100

The protagonist loved quiet moments in a café, a rare escape in a place packed with hyper-muscular men. Everyone boasted chiseled pecs, bulging biceps, and relentless stamina, each equipped with cocks so long they could reach their heads and thick as logs. Here, erections were as natural as breathing. He settled into his usual corner, opening a book. Dressed in a tight white short-sleeve shirt and short shorts, his broad shoulders strained the fabric, and his thick thighs overwhelmed the chair. His cock, even flaccid, was a beast the size of his torso, spilling out of his short shorts and dangling past his knees. The heavy slab of flesh, faintly veined, swayed loosely, its tip brushing the hem of his shorts.

Amid the coffee’s aroma, he tried to focus on his book. But soon enough, his cock stirred, pulsing to life. The slack mass twitched, growing firmer. Veins bulged as the skin stretched taut. From dangling past his knees, it lengthened, creeping up his thigh toward his abdomen. The log-thick shaft swelled, rigid enough to rival his head in height, straining his shorts to the breaking point. The swollen red tip glistened, oozing sticky precum that trickled down the shaft, dripping from the exposed tip onto the floor in thick, wet drops. He closed his book, muttering to himself, Ugh, damn… it’s hard again.

The café’s air grew heavy. Eyes around him locked on, unapologetic. The jacked barista fumbled a cup at the counter, staring openly, while the hulking guy at the next table set his book down, gazing shamelessly. Their shorts and pants betrayed them, massive cocks twitching in response. One man’s shorts outlined a log-like bulge, stark and obscene, while another spread his legs, not bothering to hide. His cock stood rock-hard, throbbing against the fabric. The protagonist felt their stares, his body heating up. They’re all getting hard just looking at me. He reopened his book, feigning calm, but a smirk tugged at his lips.

His gaze wandered. The barista’s tight ass and chiseled pecs, the next table guy’s thick biceps, the man in the corner reading a newspaper with bulging thighs—each one’s shorts strained with pulsing cocks. The sight sent a thrill through him, a quiet arousal tightening his chest. His cock throbbed harder, precum flowing relentlessly, coating the exposed shaft and dripping in sticky streams to his thighs, leaving wet trails. These guys… those bodies, those cocks… He took a sip of coffee, marveling inwardly.

The café buzzed with raw heat. The collective arousal left the floor slick, soaked with precum from countless sources. The barista’s cock dripped thick drops, the guy at the next table leaked a sticky trail from his shorts, and the newspaper reader’s tip oozed clear beads, all pooling into a slippery mess on the ground. The protagonist closed his book, leaning back in his chair, thinking, If I hit the bathroom now… things could get interesting. His cock pulsed, harder still, precum streaming down the exposed length in glistening lines. Standing calmly, he resolved, Finish this page, then deal with this raging cock. The café’s eyes shamelessly tracked his massive erection, and he reveled in the electric thrill of their heated stares.