As I looked he asked if I wanted to pee with him again.I joined him, but this time (I don’t know why) I stood right next to him. I stared at his coc... as I tried to pee, it was massive. How had it got so big in only a few days?He was peeing right up in the air, also he was pulling the skin off the end and it’s “head” was all swollen; I asked him how it had got so big. He replied with a question, “Does yours not get big when you play with it”.Well I had, had some morning “woodies” and a few. I never spent this much time getting ready for some guy. He wasn't just some guy though. He was older. Not by much but his position made him seem older. He was my poetry professor, one twenty eight year old Nathan Kennick. He was honestly the reason I decided to take a poetry class. As much as I longed to take a fiction workshop, I couldn't pass up four hours a week staring at him in his flannel shirts. It was an added bonus that his class would help me in getting my creative writing major. We. More

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