Growth is fun!

Until now, she’d barely noticed David. He was background noise. A chill guy. Forgettable.

But then came HungJerky.

Savage Size. Black Garlic & Pepper. Rich and bold. Three days of nibbling it—just a casual experiment—and everything had changed.

He was longer. Thicker. Hung like something out of a porn loop. He could feel it stretching at night. Couldn’t wear jeans comfortably anymore.

And Riley had noticed.

Now she texted him every night. Now she came over in crop tops and no bra, pretending to just “hang out.” Now her eyes lingered on his lap like she was trying to do the math on what that bulge meant.

She arrived tonight in leggings that clung to her thighs like paint, her soft hips swaying. Her hoodie barely stayed zipped over her tits. Her whole body said “natural,” but her eyes screamed hungry.

David didn’t say much. Just lounged on the couch, his sweatpants tented, the outline thick and obscene.

Riley sat next to him, trying to play it cool. She glanced at the bulge. Then again. Then longer.

“That jerky you’ve been eating…” she finally said. “The one from Bloom Wellness. Savage Size.”

“Yeah,” he said casually. “Three days now.”

Her lips parted. “Is it really…?”

He didn’t answer. Just leaned back, spreading his legs.

The outline twitched.

She gasped. Her fingers twitched. She slid to the floor like she was hypnotized, pulling at the waistband of his sweats.

“I haven’t taken anything,” she murmured. “I’m not like Tessa or Brynn. I’m just me…”

Then she saw it.

And her breath caught.

“…Holy fuck.”

It was monstrous. Even soft, it curved heavily across his thigh, veiny and flushed, the head already thickening with blood.

“I didn’t know guys could even get this big,” she whispered, eyes transfixed.

David smirked. “Most can’t.”

She swallowed hard. “I want it in my mouth.” Her voice was trembling. “I don’t care what it tastes like. Just feed me the whole stick…”

Riley was already on her knees, sweatpants bunched around David’s ankles, staring like she couldn’t believe what she’d uncovered.

“…Jesus,” she whispered.

It was real. This wasn’t a prank. This wasn’t stuffing. His cock was thick, veiny, drooling pre-cum down the length of something so massive it should’ve belonged to a different species. Her natural instincts screamed at her that this shouldn’t be possible—but her thighs clenched together anyway.

“This is from just three days?” she asked breathlessly.

David nodded, his voice low and cocky. “Savage Size. A couple bites a day.”

Her hand barely wrapped halfway around the base. She stroked slowly, tentatively, lips parted in awe as she looked up at him. Her voice was soft. “Tessa would kill to see this…”

“Then don’t tell her.”

That made Riley grin. A flicker of mischief in her otherwise reverent stare. She leaned in, tongue sliding out, and licked him from base to tip—slow and sensual, like she was savoring something forbidden.

He groaned. The heat of her tongue lit up every nerve.

Riley kissed the head. Then again. Then opened her mouth as wide as she could—and still barely got the tip past her lips. Her jaw ached immediately. Her throat tensed on reflex.

She pulled back, gasping softly. “It doesn’t fit.”

David smirked. “Try harder.”

Her eyes fluttered. That was exactly what she wanted to hear.

She dove in again, this time holding her breath and forcing herself lower. Her lips stretched. Her mascara started to run. Saliva poured down her chin as her gag reflex tried to hold her back—and she ignored it completely.

She took him deeper. Her nose almost pressed to his pelvis before her body refused to take more.

Then she choked.

Coughed.

And came off him, gasping and drooling, eyes red, strings of spit and pre-cum connecting her mouth to his cock.

“I—I can’t believe how thick you are,” she whimpered. “You taste so good. I want it all. I just—”

She dove back in before she could even finish.

Her throat convulsed around the head. She moaned around him. Her hands massaged what wouldn’t fit in her mouth, twisting her wrists slowly while her cheeks hollowed. Every few seconds she pulled back to catch her breath, only to dive back in more frantically, obsessed.

He was panting now, hips twitching. Riley had never seen a cock like this—had never imagined one. Her mouth was numb, her jaw shaking, her lips red and raw—but her eyes were still hungry.

She pulled off one last time, gasping. “I’m natural,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t be able to take this. But I need it. I need to feel this stretch me.”

David’s cock throbbed, leaking against her cheek.

“Then get on the couch,” he growled. “Because if you think your mouth struggled…”

She scrambled up, trembling, face flushed and soaking.

“…wait until you feel what this thing does to your pussy.”

Riley’s face was still flushed and wet, her lips swollen, smeared with saliva and precum as she climbed onto the couch, trembling. She didn’t need to be told twice. She turned around. Arched her back. And peeled her soaked leggings down her thighs, baring her ass.

She looked over her shoulder, eyes half-lidded and needy.

“I want to know what it feels like… I want to know what Savage Size feels like inside.”

David’s cock slapped against his thigh with a heavy thud as he stood, towering behind her. His eyes were locked on her perfect, natural curves—untouched by enhancements, soft and real in a way that made him throb harder.

Her pussy was glistening. Her thighs were already shaking.

He stepped in close, guiding the head between her lips.

She gasped the moment it kissed her entrance.

“Oh my God,” she whimpered. “You’re not even in yet and I can feel how wide it is…”

David gritted his teeth. “You sure you can take this?”

“No,” she whispered. “But I’m going to try.”

He pressed in slowly.

Her body fought him. Her entrance stretched wider than it ever had—her breath catching in ragged moans as the head began to slide past her folds.

She screamed.

Loud. Gut-deep. Her hands gripped the couch cushions like she was being possessed.

“FUCK—David—it’s—it’s splitting me!”

But she didn’t move away. She pushed back.

He sank another inch.

Then another.

Every second was a battle—her pussy clenching around him, soaking him in slick heat, her body trembling violently. She was panting, sobbing, laughing—somewhere between ecstasy and madness.

“It’s still going in,” she whimpered. “How is there still more?”

David grunted, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He was barely halfway inside.

“You’re taking it like a good girl,” he growled. “Keep going.”

She cried out, her back arching deeper, her belly starting to bulge slightly with the shape of his cock forcing its way in.

“I can feel it in my gut,” she moaned. “I’ve never been this full. I can’t—I can’t even think—”

Then he bottomed out.

Riley screamed, her voice cracking. She came instantly, violently, soaking him in a gush of wetness that dripped down her thighs. Her whole body convulsed as she collapsed forward, forehead pressed to the cushion, fucked open and overwhelmed.

David didn’t pull out.

He started thrusting.

Long, deep strokes that dragged the full length of his cock through her trembling core, reshaping her insides with every motion. Her pussy squished around him, fluttering, clenching, desperate to process the size.

Her mouth hung open. Words failed her. Only broken sounds escaped—gasps, sobs, whines that bordered on worship.

She was ruined.

“Your pussy’s never had this, huh?” he groaned, slapping her ass. “No enhancement. No prep. Just raw.”

“I—it—it’s too much,” she choked out, crying and cumming at the same time. “It’s too big, I can’t—I love it—I f-fucking love it—”

Her eyes rolled back.

Her second orgasm hit harder. Violent. Her thighs clamped around him, her pussy squeezing so tight it nearly milked him on the spot. He growled, pounding into her harder, his own climax surging.

“You want it inside?” he hissed.

“Yes,” she begged, “Flood me. Fill me. I want to feel it leaking out of me all night—”

And then he did.

He erupted.

Hot ropes of cum blasted deep into her, his cock twitching and pulsing as he came harder than ever before. Her belly swelled slightly, her body limp and trembling, face buried in the couch.

He stayed inside her, still twitching. Still growing.

Her voice was a broken, reverent whisper:

“…I want more.”

“…I want you again.”

“…I want to keep up.”

David raised an eyebrow. “You’re thinking about taking something?”

She didn’t answer at first.

She’d brought home three guys in five nights. All of them had failed. Either they couldn’t get deep enough, or their stamina folded under the heat of her newfound appetite. One even whispered, breathless, “You’re too much for me.”

Tonight, she swore, was going to be different.

His name was Cal, and she met him at a corner store grabbing a late-night pack of gummies. Not even for himself—he was looking at the HungJerky display. She watched him from behind the shelf, her gut hanging heavy over her yoga shorts, a cropped tee riding up over her underboob. When he turned and saw her, his jaw dropped.

Harper licked her lips and purred, “Come home with me.”

---

Back at her place, it didn’t take long. Clothes hit the floor. Her body hit the bed like a dropped mattress—wide, warm, hungry.

Cal tried his best. He really did.

But he was clearly overwhelmed, trembling between her thighs, her folds swallowing him. His thrusts were eager but shallow. She groaned in frustration.

“You’ve got something to help with that?” she asked, panting.

He nodded. “I... I brought this.” From his jeans pocket, he pulled a stick of HungJerky: Bullburst—red packaging with a bulging black bull on the front. “Supposed to, uh… make things bigger. Fuller.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Stick it inside me,” she ordered.

His brows rose. “What?”

“Feed it to yourself from inside me.”

She was already spreading herself open, her wetness slick and eager. He hesitated for only a second, then pushed the strip of jerky into her heat. It disappeared with a squelch, her body clenching around it—and around him.

Then he thrust.

And everything changed.

---

It started slow. A tingling. Then a twitch.

Suddenly, Harper gasped—her body stretched in ways it hadn’t before. He was growing inside her. Thickening. Filling every inch. Her eyes rolled back.

“Oh my God,” she moaned. “Finally.”

Cal groaned, clutching her hips. His cock lengthened with each thrust, pounding deeper, slamming against parts of her that had ached for pressure. Her belly rippled with every collision, her breasts bouncing as her back arched in pure, electric pleasure.

And his balls—she could feel them swelling, slapping against her ass harder, fuller. Like they were overloading.

He barely lasted.

When he came, it was massive. Hot spurts that filled her, flooded her, overflowed from her lips. Harper gasped as she felt it gush out around him, dripping down her thighs, her body writhing in thick, satisfied aftershocks.

He collapsed against her, dazed and panting.

She giggled, breathless, dragging her nails along his back. “You’ve got more of those, right?”

He nodded, still inside her. “A whole bag.”

She grinned.

“So do I.”

He was still hard. Rock hard. Hours had passed. He hadn’t finished once. Not even close.

“I told you I just wanted a little more endurance,” she whimpered, her voice barely above a breath. “Not a fucking marathon.”

His eyes glowed with hunger—animalistic, glazed over by lust and whatever was coursing through his blood. That HungJerky wasn’t playing around. He wasn’t even the same man anymore. His cock throbbed with terrifying consistency, standing thick and ready between them.

She moaned again, her pussy aching, red and puffy, slick with too many orgasms to count. Every brush of air against her clit made her shudder and squeal.

“No more,” she whispered, throat raw. “You’re gonna fucking break me—”

But then her eyes shifted toward her bedside drawer. She reached out, trembling fingers pulling it open. One last card to play.

A single, glossy gummy in a peach-colored wrapper.

She didn’t even think. She popped the PeachyPlumps in her mouth, chewing as quickly as she could while her husband watched, panting.

“Turn over,” he growled, voice rough with want. She obeyed.

The effect was immediate.

Her ass surged outward like bread rising in the oven. Juicy. Round. Soft. Massive. Two thick, wobbling globes swelled under his gaze, jiggling as she arched her back and gasped.

“Use this,” she whispered, biting the pillow. “Fuck my ass. Give it somewhere else to go.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

The head of his cock pressed against her new plush rear, sliding between her cheeks before finding her virgin entrance. She let out a scream as he began to push in—her body adjusting fast, the gummy seeming to anticipate what was coming.

He sank into her deeper than he ever had before.

She shook, clawing at the sheets, her face contorted in agony and bliss as he began to pound into her—slow and deliberate at first, then harder. Faster.

The room was filled with the sound of slapping skin and feral grunts. Her ass jiggled violently with every thrust, her moans turning into hoarse sobs of pleasure as she lost track of how deep he was. Her belly pressed against the mattress, hips lifted high, feeling every inch of his endless, aching cock stretch her wider than she’d thought possible.

And then—he grabbed her waist. Froze. Growled.

And exploded.

Hot, thick cum burst into her ass in waves. She felt it. Splashing deep, flooding her until it spilled back out around his shaft. She could only groan as it filled her, her body accepting all of it—her newly plumped rear milking him like a vice.

When it finally stopped, he collapsed beside her, gasping, drenched in sweat. She was shaking. Stretched. Stuffed.

“I should’ve read the fucking label,” she muttered, staring at the ceiling.

“…I still didn’t finish,” he said after a moment, cock twitching.

He hesitated.

Then pulled the sheet down.

Her eyes adjusted to the soft glow of the bedside lamp—and widened.

“…What the fuck?”

It wasn’t just big. It was thick.

She sat up, blinking at his swollen cock, veiny and flushed, curved upward like it wanted to fight gravity. A clear bead welled at the tip, clinging, heavy. It looked warm, alive. Like it pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

“I dunno,” he said breathlessly. “I took something earlier. A new product. Jerky.”

“Jerky?”

He grabbed the wrapper off the nightstand and tossed it to her.

HungJerky: Original Breed – Hickory Smoked Bourbon.

“I had one around lunch, another after dinner. It… didn’t kick in until a couple hours ago.”

She stared at his cock again. Then at her hands. Like she wasn’t sure they were enough.

“Jesus. I mean… it looks good, but... that’s not normal.”

He chuckled. “You wanna touch it?”

She bit her lip. “...Yeah.”

Her fingers wrapped around it slowly—testing. Exploring.

He twitched in her hand, thick and hot. She used both palms, moving up and down, the skin slick with his arousal. Her strokes were slow, deliberate. Every squeeze made him grunt, hips shifting beneath her.

“You’ve definitely gotten bigger,” she whispered.

“You think?”

“I know. This is…” She trailed off. Then leaned down.

She didn’t suck—not yet.

She kissed it first. Just under the tip. Then lower. Then a long, slow lick from base to crown.

Her lips parted after tasting him. She blinked, caught off guard. “It tastes like bourbon.”

He groaned. “That’s in the name.”

“No, I mean… like the jerky. Smoky. Sweet. A little heat at the end.”

She licked again. Slower this time. A little deeper. Her tongue slid over the thickest part of his shaft, gliding in tight circles as she stroked him with one hand. The other caressed his inner thigh, squeezing gently as his cock pulsed against her cheek.

“Your whole body’s like... simmering,” she murmured. “You’re hot to the touch. Alive.”

He just nodded, lips parted. Sweat gathering along his collarbone.

Then she spotted it.

Another stick. Still sealed. Resting on the nightstand like a loaded weapon.

“…Is that your last one?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled. “Didn’t know if I should.”

She looked down at his cock—slick, pulsing, leaking across her hand—and then back up.

“Eat it,” she whispered. “I want to see what happens when you go all in.”

She knelt over his thighs, hands slick with precum, lips tingling with the lingering taste of heat and smoke.

“Eat it,” she whispered again, eyes flicking to the last stick of HungJerky.

He didn’t hesitate.

The seal tore with a dry snap, the smoky scent flooding the room like a furnace had been lit. He bit into it slowly, chewing, eyes locked on hers. She watched the muscles in his neck work as he swallowed.

And then—he exhaled. Shaky. Deep.

A tremor rolled through him, starting at his chest, down his abs, straight into her waiting palms.

She felt it before she saw it.

The pulse—a low, deep throb that made his cock twitch violently in her grip. Then another. Stronger. It jerked upward against her lips as her hands instinctively tightened.

“Holy fuck,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to watch.

It grew.

Visibly.

Like time-lapse footage of something blooming—but this wasn’t flowers. This was bourbon-thick, vein-laced, cockflesh expanding under her palms.

An inch. Then another. The head flared, the shaft darkened with pressure, glistening as another bead of precum rolled down the side. Her fingers lost more and more surface area as the girth swelled between her hands.

“I can’t—” she gasped, eyes wide, “—I can’t hold it anymore…”

She let go, overwhelmed, but her tongue didn’t.

She needed to taste it as it changed.

She kissed the tip first—just a flick—and it twitched again, rewarding her with another taste. Deeper this time. Salt, smoke, something darker underneath. It burned at the back of her tongue in the most intoxicating way.

She moaned against it.

“I can taste the jerky,” she said breathlessly. “It’s inside you. Your cum’s turning into bourbon.”

He groaned. His thighs flexed. His fists gripped the sheets like he was riding something out—every muscle tense, flushed, barely holding back.

She lowered her head and dragged her tongue up the length again, slower this time. Worshipful. Her hands followed underneath, cupping his balls—which felt heavier, swollen with something hot and potent, like he was backed up with fire.

“You’re not done,” she whispered. “You’re still changing.”

“I know,” he choked out. “It’s like—fuck—like I’m being filled from the inside out.”

She giggled, lips brushing his tip again. “I wonder how full you’ll get.”

And then she licked again. Deeper. Greedier. Her mouth open, tongue wide and wet as she explored his new size. Not sucking—not yet—but circling. Mapping. Savoring.

Each pulse made her gasp.

Each twitch had her thighs rubbing together.

And all she could think was: he’s still growing…

She could barely recognize it anymore.

The cock pulsing in her hands was no longer just his—it was something more.

Thicker than her wrist. Flaring with power. Hot, dark, bourbon-slicked desire made flesh. The room smelled like sex and smoke and spice, and her lips were drenched in him. She couldn’t stop licking. Couldn’t stop tasting. Couldn’t stop feeling every hard, trembling throb under her tongue.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make me blow—”

“Not yet,” she whispered, pulling her mouth away just long enough to pump him with both hands, her wrists straining to keep up. “You owe me more than that.”

She spit in her palm and stroked faster, leaning in, teasing the head with her tongue again—swirling, flicking, drawing little gasps and shudders from him like she was playing an instrument.

“You’re soaked,” she whispered, lips brushing the crown. “You’ve been leaking like a fucking bottle of bourbon left in the sun.”

His hips jerked upward. “God, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” she purred. “Let it build. Let it boil. I want the first real taste of what this jerky’s been doing to you.”

Her lips parted.

This time, she took him in—just the head—but even that made her jaw stretch. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked slowly, wetly, swirling her tongue around the crown like she was draining a thickshot of liquid heat.

He howled.

His thighs tensed under her. His back arched. She pulled back, letting the head pop free with a wet gasp—and then kept stroking, faster now, her eyes locked on his, her face a portrait of raw anticipation.

“Cum for me,” she whispered. “Let it out. Let me taste what it’s done to you.”

That’s all it took.

He roared—loud, primal, uncontrollable—and erupted.

The first shot hit her lips.

The second hit her cheek.

The third blasted across her nose and forehead, thick and hot and endless, ropes of bourbon-scented cum marking her face as her mouth opened wider in shock and delight.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped between bursts, trying to catch some on her tongue. “You’re—God—so much.”

It just kept coming. Splash after splash. His balls clenched with every pulse, draining what felt like a week’s worth of tension into her, onto her, everywhere.

When it finally slowed, she was a mess.

Eyes glassy. Mouth dripping. Cum slicked across her cheeks and chin like war paint.

She licked her lips, dazed.

“That was…”

He panted, chest heaving.

“...the entire stick,” he muttered.

She laughed softly, kneeling between his legs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Then licking it clean.