He knew comparing himself to porn stars was the way to madness, but how could he help it? He’d measured his dick at its hardest, and according to the internet, he was perfectly average. Great.
The one joy of having small loads was the quick cleanup, as he demonstrated with one tissue, but Josh was sure he wouldn’t mind having to wipe himself more than once.
Curious, he opened his browser again, and a quick google search later, he was scrolling through results on how to increase his semen volume. Several minutes into his research, it appeared the stupid internet didn’t have an easy way for him to start producing porn star loads. Just some recommendations about jerking off less and drinking more water. Hadn’t science made a pill, or anything?
Disappointed, Josh moved from his desk to his bed, pulling his underwear back on. Laying in bed, waiting for sleep, he contemplated the advice he’d found.
‘Jerk off less’. Ha, as if.
‘Drink water’. Check, he’d do that starting tomorrow.
‘Don’t smoke’. He didn’t.
‘Stay in shape’. He was in fine shape for an 18-year-old. Not skinny, not a jock.
It seemed for whatever reason, he was destined to produce little piddles of cum. Still annoyed the internet had failed him, Josh counted sheep until sleep claimed him.
The next morning, he woke up with a new determination to jack off less, to see what it did for his load size. He was also going to drink as much water as he could.
Joining his parents in the kitchen, but not looking their way, he popped some bread in the toaster and went looking for their biggest water bottle. Finding a 2-liter one in the back of the cupboard, he filled it up at the tap and put some ice cubes in to keep it somewhat chilled. He hated warm water.
The toast wasn’t done yet, so he turned to his phone, scanning through his Reddit feed.
“Ahem,” he heard and looked up. His mom was at the table, staring at him.
“Yes? Can I help you?” he asked, keeping his face neutral.
“You certainly can. You can come give me a kiss, you brat,” said his mom, her eyes twinkling.
He grinned. He’d known that ignoring her would get her going, as she insisted on a kiss every morning. “Okay, I suppose so,” he said and walked over to plant a smooch on her cheek.
His mom, Jean, was generally ranked in the middle of the pack amongst his friends’ moms. Tommy’s mom was ranked at the top, as she was a model, followed closely by Allan’s mom, as she had big tits. Then came his mom, followed by Jeff and Mark’s mom. Josh couldn’t vote for his mom, (because he’d be biased?) but as he’d had it explained to him, she was third because while she was cuter than Allan’s mom, she had smallish tits and dressed like she was going to church every day. They didn’t talk about Jeff and Mark’s moms.
As Josh leaned over to kiss his mom, he smelled her shampoo, which was nicely fragrant without being too strong. A stray hair tickled his face as he bussed her cheek. “Looks like you have a straggler,” he said, pointing at the loose lock.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll fix it before I leave.”
His mom usually kept her long, brown hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, which had once prompted Tommy to compare her to Lara Croft. The other guys had pointed out her lack in the bust department, and the comparison never came up again.
“Anything planned for after school?” his dad asked from across the table.
“No, I think I’m going to just get my paper done. It’s due next week but I’m almost finished. If I get it done now I can hang out at Allan’s on Saturday.”
“Don’t forget the lawn needs to be mowed this weekend,” his dad said, glancing up from his tablet.
“Yeah, I’ll do it Sunday.”
“See that you do, I’ll be gone all weekend for work, so I won’t be around to remind you.”
His mom’s face fell. “Again? I thought you were going to tell them no more weekends. What if we had plans?”
Josh’s dad, Chuck, said, “We don’t have plans. If we did, I’d have told them to find someone else. You know this all leads towards a promotion, right? More money?”
Jean sighed and nodded. “I just don’t know when it’s going to finally happen. You’ve been promising me for two years.”
“Well, I’m pushing as hard as I can. Maybe by this time next year…”
“Yeah, you said that last year.”
Josh had heard this argument many times, so he went to butter his toast, tuning his parents out. He scarfed it down with a large glass of water and left for school.
His day was spent drinking water and fighting to remind himself not to jerk off later. He wasn’t helped by the girls in his class wearing less clothing as summer got closer. One girl – Jenny – wore shorts that looked painted on, which drove him crazy, and he was thankful the one class he had with her wasn’t scheduled for today.
Jenny had a killer butt, everyone agreed, but her best feature was her rack, a fact that wasn’t lost on her. She had gone without a bra at least five times he’d counted this year, and each occasion was chiseled into the bedrock of his memory.
Stop it, he chided himself. This wasn’t going to help with the plan of not jerking off.
While eating lunch with his friends, Tommy asked him what the huge water bottle was for. Josh jokingly explained it was to help his ‘huge gains’, which had prompted a half-hour conversation about whether taking steroids makes your dick small, and if it did, shouldn’t there be another substance that did the opposite? The agreed-upon answer was yes, but scientists hadn’t found it yet. Some kind of anti-steroid.
At home that night, after Josh had finished his paper, he went browsing for some PC parts. It was while he was on one site he finally noticed an ad from three previous sites. It was for some kind of supplement, which he would normally ignore, but this ad eventually penetrated his defenses with the words ‘huge’ and ‘load’.
‘You want huge load? Try scientific proven formula to show lover your care!’
It wasn’t very grammatically correct. The words were around a picture of a white lake. Not very subtle, either. He moved on.
The next thing he found was an ad in his email for ‘Huge loads!’
What.
Josh groaned as he realized he must not have done the search last night in incognito mode, and now he was being targeted for the ads. Remembering the lack of concrete solutions for increasing semen in his research, he wondered how anyone could be taken in by that stuff.
Thinking back to what the guy in the video had been able to produce, he wondered: How did he get such an impressive output? He must have a secret. There must be a way to get it done, but no one was talking about it. What if these miracle drugs did work?
The last question prompted him to click on one of the ads. A normal website opened, with testimonials for the power of the product. ‘Glazed donut!’ ‘Filled her up!’ ‘I lost weight!’