It was a dead night. Travis, 24, was lying on the couch scrolling on his phone. Oscar, 23, kicked his side just to annoy him. Kenji, 25, sat on the floor leaning back against the coffee table, fidgeting with nothing in particular.

“We’re pathetic, man. Three dudes and this is all we’re doing?” Oscar sighed.

Travis shrugged. “What do you want then? Go downtown? I’m not in the mood.”

“Nothing to do,” Kenji said with a smirk. “We could… I don’t know… see who’s got the biggest feet?”

Oscar leaned forward, grinning. “Better idea. Dicks. Let’s measure them. Flaccid first.”

Kenji burst out laughing. “You’re kidding.”

“You’re fucking insane. But…” Travis lowered his phone, shaking his head. He got up, opened a drawer and pulled out a tape measure. He tossed it to Oscar. “…you start then.”

Oscar shoved his sweats down without hesitation. His dick flopped out, pale and veiny in the dim light, cockhead still soft but heavy. He measured from the base. “Four and a half inches. Not bad for a softie.” He grinned wide.

Kenji followed, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his dick. It hung thick and heavy against his thigh, foreskin loose over the head. He measured slowly. “Just over four. But wait ‘til I’m hard. Whole different story.”

Travis groaned but pushed his sweats down. His dick was already swelling, halfway hard, the head flushed.

“Look at him, he can’t even keep it soft!” Oscar cracked up.

“It’s ‘cause you’re staring,” Travis muttered with a small smile as he measured. “About six. Semi, but whatever.”

They all laughed, but none of them pulled their pants back up. The tape stayed on the floor between them.

“Alright, Travis wins the soft round. Next event: girth,” Oscar said with a smirk.

“How the hell do you measure that? Hold it yourself?” Kenji frowned.

“Nah. Someone else has to. Otherwise you’ll cheat,” Oscar grinned.

Kenji stood up, dick hanging loose. Oscar stepped up, looped the tape around the base, pulled it snug. His fingers brushed hot skin. “Four and a half around. Solid.”

Then it was Oscar’s turn. Kenji looped the tape, squeezed against his shaft. “Same. Four and a half. You’re tied.”

Travis stood last, his dick thicker now, swelling higher.

“Dude, you’re straight cheating,” Oscar laughed again.

“Not my fault.” Travis clenched his jaw.

Kenji crouched down, wrapped the tape around the base. His fingers nearly closed around it, pressing against hot skin. Travis sucked in a breath. “Almost six around. But that’s with a chub. Not fair.”

“Only one way to fix it,” Oscar said, raising his brows. “We all measure hard. No other way to compare.”

Kenji looked unsure, then smirked. “We’re fucking idiots. But fine.”

“Let’s do it. Real numbers,” Travis nodded.

They stripped down completely, sat in a half-circle on the floor. Each grabbed his dick, stroking it harder, the room filling with wet sounds and low breaths.

“You’re up,” Oscar said, standing first and pointing at Kenji.

Kenji got to his feet, dick jutting straight out, thick and swollen, cockhead flushed. Oscar crouched, pressed the tape at the base, ran it to the tip. His fingers slid along the hot length. “Six and a quarter.” He wrapped the tape tight at the base. “Five and a half around. You’re the girth champ.”

Travis stood next, dick veiny and curving up, balls tight underneath. Kenji took the tape, lined it from root to head. “Seven and three quarters.” He looped it around the base, the shaft twitching against his hand. “Six inches around. You’re a fucking monster.”

Oscar stepped up, dick flushed and hard, veins running down the length, cockhead swollen pink. Travis measured slowly, deliberately. “Almost seven.” He wrapped the tape snug, dick jumping in his grip. “Five around. Not bad at all.”

They stood there, dicks hard, breathing heavier. Nobody bothered pretending it was just a joke anymore.

“So Travis wins length and girth. Kenji takes thickness. I need a damn event to win,” Oscar said with a grin.

“We’ll think of something. Angle, stamina…” Kenji smirked.

“Or cum. That’s the real decider,” Travis’s voice was rough.

“Angle first,” Oscar laughed.

They lined up shoulder to shoulder, three dicks jutting in different directions.

Oscar put his hand on Travis’s shaft to hold it steady. “Yours is almost straight up.”

Kenji gripped Oscar’s, heat buzzing in his palm. “Yours leans left. Kinda cute.”

Travis wrapped his hand around Kenji’s thick dick, solid in his grip. “Yours is like… forty-five degrees.”

Hands lingered longer than necessary. Fingers slid. Skin met skin. None of them called it out.

“Alright, Travis wins angle,” Oscar said after clearing his throat. “But stamina? Who can hold out the longest?”

“That means we gotta jerk for real,” Kenji hesitated. “And keep an eye on each other. Otherwise someone cheats.”

“Fine. Let’s do it.” Travis smirked.

They sat again, stroking in rhythm. Travis grabbed Oscar’s wrist, sped up his strokes. Oscar groaned, precum slicking his cockhead. Kenji reached out, wrapped his hand around Travis’s thick dick, pumping slow and deep. Oscar answered by grabbing Kenji’s fat length, his nuts tightening under the pressure. The chain was complete, each of them working the next.

Their breathing turned ragged, the room thick with slick sounds. None of them let go.

“Fuck, I’m close…” Oscar gasped.

“Not yet,” Travis said, pinching his base tight.

Kenji trembled, pumping Travis harder, his own hips jerking into Oscar’s grip.

It held for a moment, then broke.

Oscar lost it first, a guttural groan ripping out as he shot. His first stream arced almost two feet, white spunk splattering across the floor. More blasts followed, streaking his stomach and thighs, dripping from his cockhead. “Distance champ. That’s mine.”

Kenji came right after, his dick jerking in Oscar’s hand, thick ropes of cum splattering heavy across the tape on the floor, dripping down over his nuts. “I’ll take volume, thanks.”

Travis held out the longest. When he exploded, it poured out of him in messy gushes. Not far, barely a foot, but so much spunk that it coated his dick, his balls and his hand until everything was slick. He leaned back, moaning. “I drown you fuckers.”

They collapsed back, panting, bodies shiny with sweat and cum. The tape measure lay between them, soaked and useless.

“We’re so fucked up,” Oscar chuckled dryly.

“Worth it though,” Kenji said, still catching his breath as he leaned against the couch.

Travis ran a hand through his hair, dick still half-hard, cum drying on his nuts. “No losers here, guys.”

“Alright, next time we’ll see who can take a dildo the deepest,” Travis smirked, wiping his hand on his thigh.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Just kidding.”