Hormones won't make youbigger than you were meant to be."Brian thought about it. He figured one month at a time. "Okay, Doc. Iguess I'll see you in...a month." Brian wished he could continue the pillsuntil his next birthday. He liked the way he was feeling. He liked howhe didn't feel stressed or tense. He hadn't felt that paranoia of schoolanxiety in a long while.He knew the program wasn't a perfect success. He had grown four inches infive months, which was some kind of record. He had. He said "My dear wench, I could shag you until my John Thomas falls off." It wasn't hard for her to guess what that meant. His piston-like movements slipped in and out of her like on a slide trombone. In the end, as he blasted into her, he sounded more like a wailing trumpet.There was the short man with a surprisingly large crooked cock reminding her of Vincent van Gogh. He didn't speak English. It didn't matter because sex has it's own universal language. He humped her endlessly like a dog on. More

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