This is a true story
Follow me on my new IG: wild9ranger for sexy, silly, outdoorsy stuff. I live in the Caribbean and I love to write.
E mail: wild9ranger@gmail.com
Holler My Name By Blake Underwood
Jarraden, 16, has a good-sized dick and sex it turns out feels epic. Until his best friend shares a secret that threatens to bust things wide open...
Amit Shetty bewitched Jarraden, you might say.
Jarraden swayed awkwardly as he was introduced to the class, scanning the room for a smile. He was lanky then getting, not yet filled out from sport, but the Summer to come and basketball would eventually change all that.
Amit grinned widely, his top-knot giving him the air of a guru. He had rings on his fingers and the sun glinted off a dangling gold earring. His teeth were beautiful, and brilliant against his brown skin.
He was sitting next to a girl with long brown hair. Sayern, he would later learn to be her name.
Amit wore a red gemstone somewhere on his left hand that caught Jarraden eye and he smiled as if to say `cool look Bro'.
That was how their friendship started.
As the term wore on they got closer through basketball and soon they were meeting on weekends to practice and goof about. Some guys dubbed them Jamit,' joking The Bromance is strong, Bros'. They all just laughed about it.
Sayern wasn't part of their guy circle, but everyone knew who she was. Unreachable, almost.
She was the school's Cleopatra -- so Jarraden had been stunned when she leaned in to give him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek after a basketball win.
Summer Starts
When Summer arrived Jarraden hoped he could convince his parents to allow the pair of them to go camping. Amit was Mr Outdoors, starting fires with sticks and building himself a treehouse.
Jarraden taught Amit Tekken moves on the PlayStation. Amit showed him how to track the constellations and took him skinny dipping in the stream behind his house. Amit was also obsessed by choose-your-own-adventure books. He would get super animated talking about them and could monologue for ages about runes and spells, his top-knot bobbing away. Jarraden would watch Amit's tongue flicker, captivated that this guy was sort of adorable with his little obsessions.
On the first weekend of vacation, Amit invited Jarraden to go for a naked swim in the small secluded river behind his house. It was something they had done before, egged on by Amit saying how beneficial it was to commune with nature.
For them it was regular primal young kings behaviour.
Amit was lean, always using his defined abs as a flex. "What do you think Sayern would say if she saw this?" he said, sitting on a large bolder and breathing out to show his 8-pack. He ran a hand over his long wet hair, and in the dappled light of the trees he did look hot, like a model from a GQ photoshoot.
Jarraden watching him from the cool, steady flowing water.
"She would say you were alright," he said, with a snort, his voice cracking momentarily. The two of them caught each other's gaze and Jarraden was startled at his surge of emotion behind his words. The water passed over his thighs and he felt goosebumps ripple from his buttocks to the nape of his neck.
"Thanks Bro," Amit said, diving in and swimming over. Jarraden pushed him away with a cheesy grin.
"You know I have skills too," Jarraden said.
"Oh yeah! What?"
For a moment they bobbed, looking into each other's eyes, Amit's loose hair snaking in the water. They were like a yin and yang -- Amit wiry and ethereal, Jarraden thicker and grounded.
"Well, for one..." Jarraden started, "...I'm the brains of this unit..." He grinned. "...and the brawn." He flexed a bicep twisting his clenched fist playfully till the veins of his forearm bulged.
Amit raised his eyebrows and nodded, before he looked down through the clear water. "That's nice an all...," he said, smiling "...but I've got the inches."
They laughed. Jarraden splashed at the water between them to obscure the view. It was genuinely something he had never noticed; despite the number of times they had been naked together in the locker room.
"It's only important if you know how to use them," Jarraden joshed, knowing full well neither of them had much clue. Jarraden plunged underwater, gliding between Amit's legs to erupt behind him. With a splash he tapped Amit's head. "Tag!" he blurted, and Amit dove to give chase.
Walking back to Amit's house across the garden, Jarraden could smell the delicious curry, even over the herbal fragrance that wafted off Mr Shetty's tulsi plants as he was gardening amongst them.
Jarraden reached the kitchen door and poked his head inside. Mrs Shetty was stirring an iron pot on the stove. "Boys, you're dripping wet," she said, giving it a chastising clank with the spoon. Amit's sister was coolly slicing tomatoes. "Jaren, you staying for dinner?" Tarin said, barely looking up.
It smelled really good.
The boys went upstairs, Amit to the bathroom, and Jarraden to Amit's bedroom to change. Amit's space was so cool looking -- wall-to-wall with books and it had the vibe of a fantasy novel apothecary. The curtains were dark, and from over his bed hung a white dreamcatcher. Only one section by Amit's desk was less cluttered, a shelf with a few brass murtis arranged in rows, and crystals and metal squares with engraved geometric patterns: Amit had described the yantras as representations of energies from which one could seek blessings.
Jarraden admired a framed photo on his desk of Amit and Tarin on holiday. They could have been twins, although she was older by one year. She was pretty too. He wished that he got on better with Marcus.
Jarraden scanned some books. There was a row of grimoires and one called Goetia Pathworking. Jarraden slid it from the shelf and sat in Amit's rocking chair by a window, noting Amit's scribble in pencil by some of the sigils. The page headed Sitri' was dog-eared and Amit had drawn a smiley emoji alongside its description for sex powers'.
"Interesting, right?" Amit said, returning, his hair now tied up. He was wearing a loose white t-shirt and shorts that almost swallowed him up.
"Does it work?"
He moved to look over Jarraden's shoulder reading aloud from the page, Amit's minty breath tingled Jarraden's neck. His pores raised and a warm pulsing started somewhere below his navel. The lightness of the sensation made Jarraden's groin stir and he gasped.
"Amit...are you using this fucking magic on me?" Jarraden was agitated, a lump in his throat as he spoke. But he had no clue was he was asking, really.
Amit's came around to face him. He put both hands on the chair arms and leaned in, his dark eyes warm and inviting. He whispered: "Of course not, Bro..." His expression was steady. "...Why? Would you want me to?"
Jarraden edged back and held his breath, unsure what Amit was doing. For a moment, time seemed to stop. Then Amit laughed and put out his fist for Jarraden to give him a bounce. Jarraden reciprocated, feeling unsettled.
Why did Amit goof around like that!?
"I do have a mantra you might like though" Amit said, breaking the tension. Amit stepped over to the window to look out across the garden. "Dad says if the grace of God is yours, the vibrations will open up your system and allow the manifestation of your true desires."
It was getting late. Jarraden would probably spend the night. He had some clean clothes here.
"I dunno...," Jarraden said. He was confused. What would he really want anyway?
Jarraden slept fitfully lying next to Amit.
He had eaten so much of Mrs Shetty's wonderful food. Now he wasn't sure if it was the green chilies that were making him sweat, or if it was something else. The whole bedroom felt energetically awake.
Amit kicked his shins a few times while asleep, and in the night they both tugged at the one sheet that covered them.
At some point Jarraden found himself lying awake, staring at the dreamcatcher.
His mind flashed to the pretty loops of Amit's Samskritam -- the Kamadeva mantra that Amit had written on the corner of a notepad, and which Jarraden had slid into his pants pocket:
ॐ क्लीं कामदेवाय नमः
His mind ran to Tarin, who sometimes seemed coy around him; and to Sayern who seemed to like him. Then there was Amit's larking about by the river...
Amit was sort of sexy, with his flashy rings and his books...and those abs. Had Say ever seen Amit naked?
At times that night his mind swirled in a hypnotic loop. He watched Amit sleeping, his slim chest rising and falling like gentle ocean waves. Only when Amit flipped over his bare back almost touching Jarraden's face, did Jarraden snap out of it.
Drifting off finally, he had the wildest dream.
In the morning, Jarraden's boner was hard like diamond.
Morning Woods
Thankfully, he woke-up first. He scrambled to the bathroom and stepped under the cool shower. He rinsed his stubbly hair, and soaped up from his feet, over his thick thighs, taking time to massage his glutes. Eventually he felt his nuts begin to churn. The cum bubbled up like warm custard, lumping over his knuckles before glugging around the plughole. He moved it with his big toe, wondering if the shampoo would mask the scent.
Amit ate breakfast like he was famished. Tarin ate like a princess.
"Hungry much, Bro?" Jarraden said, watching him messily stuff his face with pancakes, and slurp down coffee.
He was amazed that such a skinny dude could chow down so much. Like, where did it all go?!
"I'm good Bro," Amit said, grinning and talking, pancake spraying from his mouth. "Bro...we should paintball later."
Jarraden glanced at Tarin who shielded her plate. "Ewww...Amit.
"Nah, Broooo..." she said mocking them, and Amit laughed, causing more mess.
At the outdoor paintball centre, they changed into the usual gear -- chest pads and a visor. There was a birthday group already in the woods.
Jarraden and Amit would be playing with some jock guys about to head out, split up by red and yellow armbands and paint colours to match; with one flag to protect.
It was a fun, scrambling about between trees. They stayed together. At some point Jarraden scrambled under some bushes to camouflage. Amit lagged behind, so when they found a cabin hideout, they decided to rest. It smelled of forest funk, but whatever.
Amit looked greasy and tired.
"Bro, you look off," Jarraden said.
Amit's bloated stomach growled. "I think I need to shit, Bro."
Jarraden rolled his eyes and started to quarrel in a whisper: "I told you before, not to eat so much." He stood up, to peer from a window space. Suddenly a pellet zipped past, hitting Jarraden square on the shoulder.
Jarraden lurched back. "Shit! What the heck!" Blue paint! It wasn't even from their damn game.
They both stood up, agitated and peered out, looking for the dick who had misfired. His shoulder legit hurt.
"You ok?" Amit said, looking around. Then Amit waved at someone and in a low voice from a few metres away the masked person called back. "Sorry...sorry..." she said. It was a slim girl hiding behind some trees.
"Say!" they both said, in unison.
Jarraden smudged at the paint. She was too cute to be mad at her. Even behind her visor, he could see her stifling a laugh. She darted off. He had never really seen her outside of school.
Amit had to leave. Jarraden decided, he would stay, finish the game. "Go get `em Bro. Report back what happens," Amit had said.
Double Digits
Say snickered seeing the posters on the Jarraden's bedroom walls -- LeBron, Mbappé, Adele. He left to go shower and inspect his bruised shoulder. She would be scrutinising his books, and figurines, he was sure. He soaped-up quickly, nursing where the paintball pellet had hit, letting the water run off his freshly buzzed hair.
Thank fuck the house was free. His parents and brother, Marcus, were probably at a Wendy's diner having gone off to check college accommodation with him.
When he returned, towel knotted around his tight waist, The Weekend came on his soft-playing radio as if timed by the Gods. Say was still dressed in her jeans and grimy t-shirt and she hummed along:
`Call out my name when I kiss you so gently...' He moved to her, parted her hair, and her lips quivered.
Say's kiss from when Jarraden and the team had won the basketball league game on the outdoor court, had been unexpected, but of course he hadn't backed away.
He had glanced around for the flex, but everybody was minding their own business, even Amit was busy packing his own bag to head home.
They continued to flirt a bit after that, but nothing had really materialised.
Now her touch was cautious, a finger gently drawing awkward circles on the bruise. Jarraden's gaze was steady -- and he couldn't take his eyes from hers.
They looked at each other for a while, and then she pulled her t-shirt off. He fumbled to unclip her bra and release her breasts.
His mind was moving so fast, but he was desperately trying to play it cool.
She presented him her neck and her moans urged him further, to kiss her, to undress her fully; and when she lay down and he rolled off her jeans, and then her panties over her thighs, the perfume he smelled was of violets.
Sayern's chestnut hair draped over the graphic pillowcase, perfectly hiding Spiderman's bulging crotch.
He knelt down still in his towel, his gaze now dancing over her smooth pussy. She eased her thighs apart and he found himself transfixed by the sound of her stickiness as her dewy lips parted.
This was fucking amazing!
True sex education was elusive -- he had only seen it done on a few porn clips; and then one time he heard his brother moaning from the next room, Jarraden had barged in thinking Marcus was ill. It turned out his brother's pound game was on point, and that Marcus's girlfriend was clearly loving being railed.
Now with Say outstretched on his bed, Jarraden leaned in and probed his tongue into her. She moaned as his licks and swirls roved over her clit and parted her swelling lips.
She giggled, and her fingers grazed his buzzed head, making his dick brick.
After a while, he stood, his hard prick parting the towel. The afternoon sun reflected off his winner's trophy, creating a shimmering about them, and the scent of the lilac trees wafted in through the open windows.
She shifted, her movement beckoning him to straddle her. He reached over to his bedside draw and pulled out three coloured foil packs spreading them like playing cards in one hand. She motioned with her eyes and propped up on her elbows watching him unwrap his towel and roll a red condom down the thickness of his raging boner.
When Jarraden finally entered her pussy, he felt like his mind might explode. He imitated some slow gyrations taking his time, guided by her whimpers; and he waited for the resistance inside her to release, allowing him to penetrate deeper than he thought possible. A rivulet of perspiration trickled down the furrow of his back, drenching his nuts.
Together they writhed and he lost himself in the dark grove of his mind. As the sunlight softened and the sky turned amber they appeared as if bathed in fire. Sweaty and entangled, deeper and deeper, he wanted them to stay knotted forever.
As he bucked his hips he felt Sayern's pussy blossom around his dick. She arched her head to his Spiderman pillowcase and began to quiver. Jarraden felt like his cock had hit a power circuit inside her as she moaned in ecstasy, her chestnut hair slick to her face.
He supported her flexed back with one arm, the other held him in a press-up, and he pulled her closer, allowing her vibrations to shudder through him sending an energy bolt up his spine and over his head, starting what felt like an infinity loop between their taut bodies.
And that was when the two of them mind-merged.
His mind suddenly went vacant, or full...he couldn't tell which. Say looked like a Goddess beneath him, and he felt fucking jacked, like if he slam-dunked a basketball it would blow the whole school out of the stands with an orgasm neutron bomb exploding from his dick.
They had been at it for hours and he still hadn't cum.
If Jarraden hadn't experienced this for himself...he would never have believed this was his life.
Outside cicadas chirped. It was cooler now. They were spent, the both of them buzzing with ecstasy.
"You were amazing," Say said, dazed, almost struggling to form her words. "You swear you never did it before!?
Jarraden propped up too, a smile creeping across his lips, but he said nothing. She gave his chest a playful tap. He felt giddy, his mind blown wide open. He swore steam was rising from his head.
He had had no idea he could do that!
Her milky body, entwined in his dark sheets, emitted a glow that was almost unwatchable. Her cheeks were flushed peach. "I should go...before your folks get back," she said.
He nodded, admiring her, that she had opened up so fully, totally mesmerising him, and suddenly he wondered if he was actually her first. He flopped back, and stayed there until he heard the front door latch click and then erupted into exuberant laughter, admiring his plump dick. `The perfect fit,' was how she had described his body inside hers.
Jarraden reported back to Amit about the paintballing.
But he said nothing about leaving the game with Say; nothing about taking her home; nothing about the epic, epic fuck. Forget popping his cherry -- they had fucked it to jam.
He just wasn't sure how to talk about it.
Girl Gone
Weirdly, after that one truly awesome night, she just dropped off the radar for the rest of the Summer. She had literally said they were `the perfect fit': he was a fucking...sex...God, it turned out.
Then she vanished.
He didn't try to call her. Instead, he checked his WhatsApp, obsessively.
He resorted to Reddit and blogs to make sense of what might have happened that night. But honestly, he couldn't fully explain to Amit what had happened -- sex, yes... but the fucking weird energy thing. What even was that!?
He and Amit never really talked about this stuff.
Amit was a virgin too, right? His goofy sex magic spells just a laugh, Jarraden figured. The topic had come up just a handful of times, and mostly Amit seemed weird about it, or uber-flirty, or secretive. It always seemed to be for a joke or a tease.
So why would Jarraden share his stuff?
But something had changed in Jarraden after being with Say...something he couldn't fathom...
After the cosmic sex, some nights he would scroll through his media feeds till the early morning. Staring up at his phone, his face would look ghoulish in the blue light as he drooled over girls with dark hair, his dick hard like a steel pipe in his hand.
This was simp behaviour and he knew it.
So he hung out with Amit more. He decided to work out harder, see if he could get defined abs. He found the matra in his shorts pocket, and he bench pressed, seeing the intricate letters in his mind. This image stayed with him at nights too. Amit had even sent him a YT clip so he could hear the mantra recited while Jarraden fell asleep. He would wake up from it, feeling empowered.
Then Say started positing IG pictures from a family holiday in Italy. A cropped image of her from the Colosseum contained the unmistakeable tanned arm of a guy. She had cut him out of the picture, which was something positive though. Right?
He and Amit swam some days, had to make do with camping behind Amit's back garden, and Jarraden tried to hang more with Marcus who would be leaving for college.
His dreams got more vivid and sexy -- him winning a muscle show his body so defined even his abs rippled with veins; fucking Say until she squirted, impaled on his juicy rod; seeing Amit soaping up in the shower. It got a bit confusing, but somehow Jarraden liked it all.
Still, he said nothing to his friend about Say.
Afterglow
The night things...evolved...came like a bolt from heaven.
Jarraden startled awake in the dark, feeling his usual throbbing night boner. But from his chest he felt a surge of energy, pulsing out in every direction. It was if his heart was a fist-sized urn that had been cracked open and love was pouring out of him. It was like being with Say only a zillion times stronger; the energy pushing against him felt the way idiot weathermen looked on TV news when standing in a hurricane.
And there was something else... From his groin he felt the heat and pump of his engorged dick, against the full length of his thigh...
The night was hot, his curtains barely parted. The air was still. Yet lying down Jarraden could feel a vortex around him. In a sliver of moonlight, he flung the sheet to the ground revealing his prick.
What the fuck!
It had grown...massive...pudgy against his leg it writhed slowly like waking python...
He moved to the edge of his bed with it resting on his legs, his hand trembling as he reached out. He touched it and a wave of pleasure pulsed so hard through his cock, he flinched. He snatched back his hand as though from an electric shock as the pleasure rocketed through his nervous system, from his helmet to his head, and his eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
With that touch, the emanating energy or whatever this feeling was, pumped from his heart and his groin, and it felt amazing.
And as the feeling pulsed through his dick he watched in a sort of awe-struck horror as this monolith gradually arched up before him like the neck of a water serpent. He looked at his bulbous nuts splayed out on his thighs either side of his monstrous erection, like grapefruit in a mesh bag.
Jarraden's breathing felt shallow. He thought he might faint. Panicked, he tapped his chest and arms, felt his face. Shit, shit, shit!?
He forced himself to stand, padded to his desk against the hurricane of energy within him, his oak-thick slab rearing from his pubes, his foreskin peeled from his raging, engorged helmet, and he flicked on the lamp.
He peered into the mirror over his hulking member. "Thank you, God," he whispered. His face was normal.
But his dick fully lit, gilt edged, was ribbed all the way up, the shaft like a stack of tribal bangles, and it appeared darker but in a healthy way, riddled with veins that made it look almost vulgar.
He couldn't quite take it all in.
And perhaps for the first time in his life, Jarraden looked at dick and felt totally beholden to it.
Glory Be
When morning arrived with birdsong, Jarraden felt sweaty and confused. He was back covered with his bedsheet. His eyes were sticky, and his groin ached mildly as though he had been wanking all night.
That dream was totally fucked-up!
He recalled the details, his heart racing.
He snatched off the sheet, like a pole-dancer releasing her skirt, and gasped in awe -- his flaccid cock was the length and girth of the kitchen towel tube. His dick was so long it lolled between his legs and rested on the mattress. It's colour was normal like his regular flaccid dick, only it was Spider-sized! Jumbo!
Fuck me!
And seeing it now, he felt instantly aroused.
Breathe, slooowly...
If he didn't calm down, he could never skip out his room unnoticed.
Jarraden got up, his dick swinging like a boat's hefty mooring rope. It slapped his thighs as he walked, his nuts jostling like two peeled boiled eggs. He locked his bedroom door. He tuned his radio to slow jams, and tried on every pair of baggy shorts and sweatpants in his closet -- he had no underwear that could contain him -- before self-consciously skipping downstairs, avoiding Marcus in the kitchen.
"Jaren, we shooting hoops today?" He heard Marcus call out, but Jarraden was already out the front door.
He messaged Amit to say he was coming over.
"Bro!!! Is this normal?" he wrote.
Without waiting for a response, he sent a WhatsApp softie selfie, in which he looked utterly bewildered. "You have got to see this bricked!!!"
...to be continued...
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