We sat around the beach campfire, enjoying the cool evening as the blaze warmed us. The ten of us, five male/female couples, had gotten tired of trying to sing songs as nobody could play guitar all that well. Three or four different people told Ghost stories, Bob even told the “Dangerous killer with a hook for a hand” story, complete with plastic hook prop. I figured it was my turn to tell a tale.

“Alright, alright, alright,” I began.

“Shut up, You ain't no McConaughey!”

“Bob, that’s your first strike. Don’t make me make you regret you ever met me.”

“I already do, good God.”

I threw a withering glare at him, finished my beer, and began again.

“You know. Heroes don’t always just hang around, waiting to do hero stuff. Sometimes, they are forged in the crucible. A villain appears, the people scream and wonder what to do, and suddenly, as if from nowhere, an unlikely hero arises. So it is with tonight’s hero. The most unlikeliest of heroes you will ever meet. The strangest tale ever told. How a hero became legend, and the legend became myth, and how he may, just may, be needed again in these strange times.

“And so I present to you, the Legend of Buster Gonad. It all started over three hundred years ago, in a small town not too far from here…”

It was late afternoon in a dreary looking town. Something caught Mary Marston’s eye as she helped her father chop wood.

“Oh Father. Looketh over yonder. A poor soul seemeth to wandereth towards our quaint town… eth.”

“Knock that shit off,” Bob yelled. “Talk like a regular person!”

“Okay, but that’s strike two, Bob.” I started again.

Mary called to her father. “Hey Pop. Look at this idiot coming up the road. What the fuck is he doing in this shithole of a town?”

I looked at Bob. He nodded his approval.

“I dunno, Mary. That wheelbarrow looks pretty heavy, I can hear it squeaking from here. What’s he got in there? A deer?”

They dropped their tools and wandered over to the man.

“Hi Folks!” the man called out, very friendly-like.

Mary looked at the contents of the wheelbarrow. Two large mounds piled high and spilled over the sides of the wheelbarrow somewhat. Some large, sparse hairs stuck out of it.

“Whatcha got there, mister? Is it a skinned deer? Or, is it two deers? You didn’t do a very good job of skinning it.” She picked up a stick and poked the… contents.

“Hey now! I’ll thank you not to poke those, please. Uh, You guys got a town hall or something? I need to talk to everyone. And I’ll explain everything.”

Jim Marston led the stranger and his wheelbarrow to the center of town, about a half mile down the road.

“We ain’t got a town hall,” Jim explained with a sad face as they arrived at a small building. “We ain’t even got a church. All we got is The Piss and Whistle. People should be here shortly as it’s almost sundown. We like to partake of a barley pop or two before supper.”

The barkeep, Magda Hoople, a stout woman of indeterminate age, allowed them early entrance. There was a bit of concern and then a struggle as the Marstons wondered why the stranger wouldn’t just leave the wheelbarrow outside. They helped lift the barrow and its contents over the threshold and into the tavern. The Stranger took a seat at the oaken bar.

True to Jim’s word, the tavern filled quickly as news of a stranger in town piqued everyone’s curiosity. A perfectly even twenty-six men and twenty-six women crowded into the Piss and Whistle, really just a barn that could hold about twenty people comfortably.

Jim introduced the man to the crowd.

“This is a stranger, he says he wants to talk to all of us. Alright, Stranger. We’re listening. Start talkin’. And no funny business. The last guy who tried to be cute with us left town with no clothes on, riding a rail after we turd and feathered him.”

“Uh,” the Stranger began. “Don’t you mean ‘tarred’ and feathered?”

“Do we look rich enough to keep ‘tar’ laying around? No, we turded him.” The townsfolk nodded in agreement.

“Well, alright then. My name is Buster Gonad. And these here, these boys in the wheelbarrow, they are my testicles.”

The crowd looked at each other in amazement and disgust.

Jim looked on with distrust. “These are two dead skinned deers. Look, if I hit them--”

And he did. He slapped a testicle hard.

Buster shrieked like a little girl and fell partially over backwards. Only partially because he couldn’t stray too far from his balls in the wheelbarrow. His face blanched, and the men recognized the look. Yep, they agreed, em r testicles.

Arnold the Austrian pronounced, “Eet’s probably a toomah!”

“It’s not a toomah! I mean, It’s not a tumor. These are my balls, they’ve been growing ever since my dream.”

All the men covered their wives’ eyes as they realized how disgusting this was. Marla Hoople found a large blanket and began to cover the horrible sight.

“No, please,” insisted Buster. “Blankets make them too hot. Ball sweat, you know. Nobody likes that.” The townsfolk murmured their agreement.

“They are unfeasibly large, Buster. What’s this dream you had, why are you here, and what about your dick? Is it big, too? Where is it?” Jim stood with his hands on his hips, demanding answers..

A terrible shriek pierced everyone’s ears, followed by a large “whoosh… whoosh… whoosh”. The people poured out onto the dirt road and looked overhead. A large shape, barely discernible in the darkness, flew overhead.

“What is that!” the townsfolk cried.

“It’s Charlinda,” answered Buster as he struggled out the door with his bollocks. “She was in my dream. Every 309 years she appears after an eighteen year cycle of infertility. Nobody here has been pregnant in a king's age, right?”

“Yeah, all the kids have grown up but nobody has had any new ones,” Martha complained.

Charlinda swooped low over the street. Her large wings whooshed as she flapped them. Her throat glowed as she drew in a huge breath, and then she exhaled an enormous ball of fire which struck a small barn, demolishing it in a great ball of fire.

Jerry Lee, a lanky fellow who married his cousin, Louise, shouted out, “Goodness gracious! Great balls of… That was my small barn!”

The glow from the fire showed Charlinda for what she was, a Class Five Dragon. Her armored scales shone brightly, and no scales were conveniently missing. They all turned and looked to Buster.

“What do we do? What does she want? Can we kill it?”

“You can’t kill her. She must be fucked and impregnated with at least ten gallons of sperm. That’s what my dream said. Well, Testiclees The Great told me that. Then he threw a lightning bolt at me and I woke up with a hard on. Every time I whack off, my cock and balls get bigger. And that’s pretty awesome, except…” Buster’s voice trailed off.

Mary lightly patted Buster’s gonads. “Ten gallons? Your balls must have that already!” Mary’s hand rested on his warm nut until Jim pulled her arm back.

“No, not quite. But you see, I can’t whack off anymore. My cock has grown out of my reach. We’re doomed if I can’t whack off anymore.”

Matthew Hobart stepped forward. “I’ve invented this thing I call a ‘scale.’ It accurately measures the weight of things. Let’s weigh his balls and figure out how close we are to ten gallons.”

Jim shook his head. “Weight doesn’t measure volume, genius.”

“Water weighs about eight pounds to the gallon. Ten gallons of water would weigh eighty pounds. Let’s weigh him and see where we are at.”

“Oh… right. Sorry, Hobart.”

After subtracting the weight of the wheel barrow, a guess thrown in for weight of skin and blood, and they arrived at seventy-five pounds.

“Yeah,” stayed Buster. “I can just feel it, we are close but not quite enough. So, I need beer, lots of beer. And I’m going to need volunteers, lots of volunteers.”

“I’ll help!” volunteered Mary. “What can I do?”

Jim cried out, astonished. “Now hold on, sweetheart! No daughter of mine is going to… pull on some stranger’s pud on account of some stupid story! Back off now, Dragon Fucker!”

Charlinda, currently circling the outskirts of the town, banked hard left and flew right at the gathering of townsfolk. They scurried about and dove for cover as she swooped down not six feet from the ground. Buster stood there, a proud five foot ten, and held his hand up, his fingers grazing her scales as she sailed by.

“She knows I’m here. She is impatient, she doesn’t know why you people are holding me up.”

Charlinda’s neck glowed red, scaring everyone. She expelled another fireball that hit a wagon, bursting it into flames.

Buster tried to fall to his knees, but he couldn’t on account of, well, it’s pretty obvious why, isn’t it? Still, he begged the ladies of the town.

“Please! I need your help! If we don’t do this soon she will smite all of us!”

Magda Hoople stepped up, shrugging off her husband Mott. “I will help. I want more children. I’ll become fertile again if this works?”

“Yes,” promised Buster. “The curse will lift after I impregnate her.”

She went to Buster and he opened his pants fully, exposing himself.

Magda flicked his three-inch piece of shriveled skin. “You can’t fuck a dragon with that! I don’t think you could fuck a mosquito.”

Buster agreed. “I know he doesn’t look like much now. But he’s a grow-er, not a show-er. Take off your dress, you’ll see.”

Magda turned and looked at the sullen faces, highlighted by the fires burning.

She faced the small group of folks and pumped her fist in the air.

“For the town!” she cried. She was met with a resounding silence. Shrugging, she undid the strings on her dress.

Everyone knew Magda to be a large woman, but they were stunned at her size when she dropped her dress. What they had assumed to be fat was mostly her enormous breasts. Her large udders waggled as she moved and the effect was not lost on Buster.

“Look!” he said, pointing to his lap. “Here he comes! He’s already twice as long. Magda, can you suck your nipple, please? I like that.”

It took two hands, but she hoisted up a giant tit and licked her soft nipple. Buster's cock grew more as she licked her nipple, salivating as it grew hard in her mouth. But she dropped it when she saw Buster’s organ.

Buster guzzled the pitcher of beer Magda brought out earlier as his cock grew towards the night sky like a maypole.

“It’s even more unfeasibly large than his testicles!” Mary exclaimed. She took off her dress also, mesmerized by the gigantic growing cock.

Buster rubbed the head of his cock with both hands as it went by him, but like he mentioned earlier, it soon went out of his reach.

Magda came over and wrapped her enormous tits around it, sending his cock to new heights. Precum began pouring out from the tip as it would a regular man, but with his cock at a current forty-eight inches long and 75 pound balls, the flow exceeded everyone’s expectations.

Mary hugged his cock with her bare body as the precum washed over her. She extended her tongue for a taste.

“It’s like… honey! It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted”! She licked and slurped up more of his juice.

Magda stuck her face in the flow and drank. “No, it tastes like cinnamon! Oh my god!”

“Someone get me more beer!” Jim and Mott Hoople headed back to the Piss and Whistle for some pitchers of ale for Buster.

“See what I mean?” Buster whined. “I can’t reach the end of it anymore, I need help!”

As if by an unspoken cue, all the women surged forward, drawn in by the magical scent of his pre-cum. Whispers of “Cookies… apple pie… fresh bread… lemon cakes” and more floated from the crowd as they all breathed in their favorite scent. The guys didn’t smell anything except a bit of cum, perhaps. They all turned to Gregory when his wife Alice whispered “sweaty ass”. He just shrugged. “She likes that, a lot.”

Jim and Mott returned to the clearing with four pitchers of beer each. Some of the other guys went and grabbed a few crates to build a stand so the women could properly reach the tip of Buster’s enormous cock. The gals shed their clothes at a rapid rate and soon all twenty-six naked women tried to touch Buster’s cock.

Nearly overwhelmed, Buster enjoyed the sights and feels of so many women clamoring for his cock. His precum flowed as he drank more and more beer. The women reached in to wet their hands and smear it on their faces, their bodies… their cunts.

Mary fought her way to the top of the crates as soon as they landed. More gals stood at various heights on the supporting crates, all able to fondle and rub the giant cock. One of the men had gone home and came back with a rolling pin and tossed it up to Mary. She grabbed the two ends and rolled it right over that magic spot that all men have just under their mushroom head.

Buster guzzled more beer as women rubbed their tits on his cum-covered slick shaft, now approaching five feet long. One managed to wrap her legs around him and humped it with her pussy. A couple others just massaged his unfeasibly large testicles with their pussies as they couldn’t get in there to reach. Alice somehow managed to work her way under Buster so she could lick his sweaty asshole.

Charlinda roared as she swooped overhead, obviously the scent of big dick energy reached her flaring nostrils. She shot fireballs down so that they encircled the group, bathing them in a fiery orange glow.

“Come on girls,” urged Buster between pitchers of beer. “Work together, up… down… up… down…”

All the naked ladies (All the naked ladies!) got in a rhythm, pushing their hands and bodies up and down the five-foot length of his monster cock. Mary and three other girls worked the head now, mashing the giant cock head while Mary continued to use the rolling pin on that special spot.

Some of the gals faltered as their own orgasms took them. But their shudders and tremors only helped Buster in his climb. Several of the men came over with their dicks out and began fucking the women nearest them.

Buster’s cock began pulsing, surging in girth. His behemoth balls expanded and contracted regularly. The gals all pressed harder and worked in unison as their hedonistic wishes were about to be fulfilled, they all wanted to be covered in Buster’s magical cum.

Charlinda screeched and launched a fireball that landed very close, shaking the very earth and sending Buster right over the edge. He felt every single breast, every single pussy, each hand and mouth on his cock, all the women wanting him so bad…

Buster’s inhuman roar split the night as his orgasm arrived. White cum shot twenty feet straight into the air… and fell back down on the gals, Buster, and some of the men. As one, every woman orgasmed hard as his sperm contacted them. They relaxed their grip on his cock, many falling into the grass as they writhed with pleasure.

Buster felt so amazing, his balls emptier and lighter than they had been in weeks. He stood up straight, surveying the damage he dealt the townswomen. He was about to shake hands with Jim when a terrible pain shot through him. His testicles seemed to fill even fuller than before and he felt his cock growing, stretching right before his very eyes. Buster’s wheelbarrow burst into pieces, torn asunder by the sudden orgasmic expansion.

Charlinda landed in the clearing.

“Everyone get back!” warned Buster. “It’s going to get ugly!”

The men dragged the women towards the Piss and Whistle, trying to get out of the way as Charlinda trudged towards Buster.

Buster shrieked inhumanly again and trembled like a leaf in a hurricane. The townsfolk looked on in horror as Buster’s body jerked, grew longer in painful spurts, grew taller, grew thicker, then sprouted wings from his back. His face transformed into something demonic and his skin turned into bright red scales now covering his huge, impossibly muscled body.

The people cowered in his presence as he rose to his new height of over thirty feet tall. His cock and balls remained the same size, over six feet long and 80 pound balls, but they looked more in proportion with his new demonic body. He roared at Charlinda, extending his wings and his clawed hands.

Charlinda stopped in her tracks, then turned and started to take off. Buster caught her by the tail and flapped his own wings. Climbing together, they battled in the air in a twirling and furious dance. Charlinda launched fireballs randomly as they fought for control.

“Look!” cried Jim. “He’s mounting her!”

And he was. In the firelight they saw Buster taking the dragon in mid-flight for all she was worth. Both Charlinda and Buster crashed to the ground and disappeared in a sheet of flame, less than two hundred yards from the Piss and Whistle. Roars and shrieks resounded as the two mated furiously, the occasional fireball sent out randomly.

The flames died down a bit and Buster appeared in the middle of them, larger than before, ramming his ten-foot long cock into Charlinda, dragon-style. A little different from doggie style due to her long tail, Buster hitched up one leg so he could gain full access.

Suddenly Buster stood straight up and roared again as he beat his chest. A bolt of lightning from the heavens struck the two of them. Buster manipulated the bolt, sending sparks from his hands into Charlindas body. She fired off a constant stream of fire as Buster emptied his balls deep into her.

Rain began to fall, putting out some of the fires. Buster collapsed on top of the dragon, and she turned to him, giving him a nip on his shoulder.

Mary pointed with excitement. “She’s smiling! Look! She’s smiling!”

The townsfolk watched as Charlinda took flight again, with Buster trying to hang on. But his demonic form diminished in front of their eyes. She snapped her tail which unseated his grip, sending him spinning back to Earth.

The people found him naked in a pile of hay, only about ten feet tall and still shrinking. When he returned to normal, Mary noticed his cock remained a good ten inches in length. Still naked, she crawled on top of him, kissing him and reviving him.

“Daddy, I am marrying this man. Right now!”

“Uh… I now pronounce you Man and Wife, I guess?”

And the town rejoiced in the new bond. Within three weeks, most of the women felt sick in the morning. The areas where Buster’s sperm hit the ground began growing enormous trees and plentiful crops. Indeed, it was discovered that a teaspoon of his cum mixed with a yard of soil was enough to cover a half-acre of land. Buster gave his sperm freely for the next month until the magic seemed to have run out. Still, the town prospered and became the center of citrus production in what became known as Florida.

The End!

A very small round of applause greeted me in the firelight.

“Not bad,” Bob said. “But you didn’t have any props like I had with my hook. Therefore, I win the story contest!”

“Au contraire, mon ami!”

I stood up with my hands on my hips, trying to adopt a hero’s pose. A horrible shriek pierced the air from far off. Everyone looked at me.

“I told this story for a reason. You know, my mother’s maiden name was ‘Geux Naude D’Grande,’ and when I was little they used to call me Buster.”

“Hey, asshole,” called Bob. “Why are you wearing that kilt? You aren’t Scottish or Irish or whatever.”

I smiled enigmatically, then I unwrapped my kilt. The crowd gasped as I stood in the firelight, my fourteen-inch cock hanging next to my unfeasibly large testicles the size of grapefruits.

“I can’t wear pants anymore.”

My girlfriend stared the hardest. “You, you weren’t that big this morning!”

I stroked the length of my long cock, producing a dollop of precum. The five ladies all looked at me in wonder.

“Caramel cheesecake.”

“Cinnamon rolls.”

“Dad’s prime rib.”

“Warm cookies.”

“Sweaty ass.”

That last one was my girlfriend. A dragon flew several thousand feet over our heads, shooting a fireball across the sky, which eventually fell into the ocean with a hiss and a steam cloud.

The guys looked at me. I nodded. They came towards me.

“Go back into town, buy all the beer you can. It’s going to be a long night. And, here.” I held up my hand, my precum on my fingers. Each guy high-fived me before heading out. They would come back with a truckload of beer, and probably two truckloads of females, attracted by my scent.

Charlinda swooped low overhead, the wind from her wings scattering the beach chairs and disturbing the fire.

My girlfriend pushed her tongue in my asshole as the others stroked and played with my cock. My first orgasm was already building. My length allowed four mouths on it, four hot and wet mouths stroking and sucking me.

I grabbed Bob’s girlfriend’s hair and dragged her in front of me; I wanted her to get the first shot. She barely encircled my large mushroom head with her lips when I fired off my cumload.

At least eight ounces of sparkling sperm overwhelmed her, it splashed back out of her mouth and down her front. The other girls tore at her clothing as they sought to lick and swallow my juice.

My cock grew another half a foot as the girls then tore their own clothes off, entranced by my magical cum. My balls ached as they grew also. I looked around for a wheelbarrow but couldn’t find one. Damn.

Charlinda launched another fireball into the surf, shrieking and calling for me. I stared up into the heavens.

“Oh, I’m coming for you, Dragon-Bitch. I’m cumming for ya.”