Be Careful What You Wish For (TG Story) - Chapter 2

Be Careful What You Wish For

(TG Story)

By FemmeForgie

Mark just wanted to do his best friend a solid. Dave was a great guy—loyal, funny, but painfully awkward and still a virgin at 25. So when Mark stumbled on a dusty old lamp and a genie popped out, he figured, why not use some magic to finally get Dave laid? His wish was simple: a sexy, caring, absolutely smoking hot woman to rock Dave’s world. But the genie had other plans. Instead of summoning the perfect woman, the bastard turned Mark into her—a curvy, drop-dead gorgeous bombshell with tits, hips, and a body built for sin. Now, stuck in this insanely hot female form, Mark realizes there's only one way to make the wish come true: he has to be the one to fuck his best friend. And the more he thinks about it… the more his new body wants to.

Link for the PDF File: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1F5D6cM3OXQ0fzhG0v-Ru9m0ozTAmn7DD/view?usp=drive_link

Chapter 2

Mark leaned forward, his grin stretching wide like he had just discovered the most entertaining thing in the world. “Oh-ho-ho, now we’re getting somewhere,” he said, eyes practically glowing with amusement. “So my boy wants a submissive, always-horny little sex toy, huh? A girl who just lives to please him?” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head in mock amazement. “Damn, Dave. I knew you had something buried deep in that nerd brain of yours, but I didn’t know you were this fucked up.”

Dave groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Dude, can we not do this?”

“Oh, we’re doing this,” Mark shot back, grinning like a devil. “You already cracked the door open, and now I wanna know everything. You got all these bottled-up thoughts, all these little secret fantasies, and I know you do. So come on, let it out. No judgment. What else?”

Dave sighed, shaking his head. He hated how Mark was looking at him—so smug, so knowing. Like he could see right through him, peeling back layers that Dave had spent years keeping locked up. And the worst part? He did have more thoughts. Ones he had buried, ones he had never said out loud.

Mark smirked. “Come on, dude, don’t be shy. We both know you’re thinking about it. What else? What’s the perfect girl for you? What’s the thing that would really get you going?”

Dave hesitated, feeling his throat go dry. His fingers gripped the hem of his hoodie, his pulse hammering against his ribs. But fuck it—Mark wasn’t going to let this go, and if he was being honest, some part of him wanted to say it.

“…She’d have a big ass,” Dave muttered, the words feeling foreign and heavy coming out of his mouth.

Mark’s eyebrows shot up, and his grin widened like he had just struck gold. “Ohhh shit.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s my boy. Keep going.”

Dave exhaled sharply, still avoiding eye contact. “Like, really big. Round, soft… something I can grab, spank, make her scream when I do it.”

Mark leaned back, letting out a low whistle. “Damn. You wanna wreck her, huh?”

Dave swallowed, but once he started talking, it was like a floodgate had opened, and he couldn’t stop. “Yeah. I want her to feel it. I want her to love it when I spank her—like, beg for it. I want her to moan so fucking loud when I do it, like it turns her on more than anything else.” His voice dropped slightly, more hushed, but still heavy. “And I wanna fuck her from behind while I do it. Just grabbing her ass, slapping it, making her scream while I’m inside her.”

Mark shook his head, grinning like an idiot. “Holy fuck, dude. Where the hell have you been hiding this side of yourself?”

Dave felt like his skin was on fire. “Nowhere. It’s not like I can just go around saying this shit.”

“Well, you should,” Mark laughed. “Bro, if you just owned this confidence, you’d probably already have a chick like that throwing herself at you.”

Dave scoffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sure. Because women love desperate virgin guys with repressed fantasies.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “You’re not desperate, dude, you just don’t know how to show what you want. You keep this shit bottled up and wonder why you don’t get anywhere. You gotta let that freak flag fly, man.”

Dave groaned, rubbing his face again. “Yeah, that’s totally what’s holding me back. I’ll just go up to some girl and be like, ‘Hey, you got a fat ass I can slap while I wreck you?’ That’ll go great.”

Mark burst out laughing. “I mean, not like that, dumbass.” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “But damn, I didn’t expect this level of depravity. You wanna turn your dream girl into your own personal moaning, ass-worshipping fucktoy, huh?”

Dave swallowed hard, his face burning. He hated how that sounded when Mark said it. “Dude, don’t put it like that.”

Mark just shook his head, still grinning. “Nah, bro, own it. I respect it. You got a taste for the wild shit, and that’s fine. You just need to stop acting like you’re some monk doomed to a life of celibacy.” He leaned back, smirking. “Honestly? Maybe that’s exactly what you need. Someone who’ll just break down all those nerves and force you to stop overthinking everything.”

Dave let out a nervous chuckle, but deep down, the thought stuck with him.

Because, fuck… maybe Mark was right. Maybe he did need a girl like that. Not just someone who would let him take control, but someone who wanted him to, who needed him to. A girl who would always be there, aching for him, desperate to make him feel good.

A girl who would never get tired of him.

A girl who would never leave.

He exhaled, shaking the thought from his head before it went too far. “Yeah, well… not like a girl like that would ever go for me.”

Mark smirked. “See, that’s the problem. You keep thinking like that, and you’re gonna stay a virgin forever.” He stretched, cracking his knuckles. “But hey, you never know. The universe works in weird ways.”

Dave scoffed. “Yeah, sure. What, is a genie gonna pop out of nowhere and grant me the perfect sex-obsessed girlfriend?”

Mark just laughed. “Bro, if only.”

Mark leaned in, smirking like he was watching the best show of his life. “Damn, Dave, I didn’t know you had it in you,” he teased. “All this time, I thought you were just some awkward, quiet virgin, but nope—turns out you’re sitting on a whole-ass treasure chest of filthy-ass fantasies.”

Dave groaned, running a hand down his face. “Dude, can we not?”

“Oh, we absolutely can,” Mark shot back, grinning. “In fact, I wanna hear more. We’re already this deep, might as well go all the way.” He leaned forward, eyes locked on Dave. “So, what else, huh? You wanna grab her fat ass while you wreck her from behind, make her moan like a goddamn pornstar—what else? What’s the next thing your depraved little mind is hiding?”

Dave swallowed hard, his face burning, but fuck—it was like Mark had cracked open something inside him. Like all the shit he had never said out loud, all the things he had kept buried, were clawing their way out. He hesitated for a second, but Mark was looking at him with that expectant, smug-ass grin, and suddenly, the words were just there.

“…I want her to have a tight, pink pussy,” Dave muttered, his voice low, almost ashamed of how fast the words left his mouth.

Mark blinked, then let out a long whistle. “Holy fuck, dude.”

Dave exhaled sharply, staring at the floor. “I want her so fucking tight that I have to force my way in,” he continued, voice almost shaking with how much he had never said this shit out loud before. “Like, I wanna feel her stretch around me, struggling to take me. I wanna hear her gasp when I push in, feel her squirm underneath me while she adjusts to my cock.” His throat was dry, his fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie, but the words kept coming.

“And I don’t wanna go slow. I wanna thrust into her—hard. Make her feel every inch, make her scream for me.” His breathing was getting heavier, the intensity of what he was saying sinking in, but he couldn’t stop. “I want her to be so fucking wet for me that she’s dripping before I even enter her. I want her body to ache for me, to crave me so bad that she needs me inside her more than anything else.”

Mark was just staring at him now, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. “Jesus Christ, Dave.”

Dave swallowed, finally looking up. “What?”

Mark burst out laughing. “Dude, what the fuck?! Where has this been all your life?!”

Dave groaned, slumping back in his seat. “Fuck you, man.”

“Nah, dude, I respect it,” Mark said, still chuckling. “I just didn’t think you had all this nasty-ass shit brewing inside you. You want a tight, pink little hole to wreck? To force your way into?” He let out another laugh, shaking his head. “Goddamn, bro. You been watching too much porn or what?”

Dave muttered, “Shut the fuck up.”

Mark smirked, but there was something impressed in his eyes. “Dude, I knew you had some freak in you, but this? This is some next-level shit.”

Dave clenched his jaw, his heart still pounding from actually saying all that out loud. And the worst part? The thoughts still weren’t done. His mind was racing, painting more images, more scenarios, more fantasies—

And it made him realize just how much he wanted it.

Dave swallowed hard, his face burning, his fingers gripping the hem of his hoodie like it was the only thing grounding him. But now that the floodgates were open, he couldn’t stop. His fantasies, the ones he had always kept buried, were spilling out before he could even think about stopping them. And fuck it—Mark asked for it.

“I want her to scream for me,” Dave muttered, his voice thick with something raw and desperate. “Like, the second I push inside her, I want her to fucking moan—loud. I want her to feel every inch of me stretching her out, making her take it.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, but the grin on his face only grew wider. “Damn, dude. You wanna make her cry from how deep you go, huh?”

Dave exhaled sharply, his heart pounding. “Yeah. I want her begging for more, telling me how big I feel inside her, how she can’t handle it but still doesn’t want me to stop. I want her whimpering, clenching around me, barely able to take it but still craving it. Like she needs me to fuck her harder, deeper, rougher—even when she can’t handle it.” His breath hitched, but the images in his head were so vivid now that they felt real.

Mark let out a low whistle. “Holy shit, bro. That’s some real freaky shit.”

Dave licked his lips, his throat dry, his pulse hammering. “I don’t want her to be quiet, I want her to lose her fucking mind when I’m inside her,” he continued, voice almost shaky with how much he had never said any of this out loud before. “I want her nails digging into my back, her body shaking, her voice going hoarse from screaming my name. I wanna hear how much she loves it, how much she needs it—every moan, every gasp, every little whimper.”

Mark just stared at him for a second, then started laughing—loud and hard. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dave! Where the fuck has this been hiding?!”

Dave groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “Fuck off, man.”

“Nah, dude, I respect it,” Mark said between chuckles, shaking his head. “I just didn’t think you had this much pent-up depravity inside you. You wanna ruin a girl, huh? Have her screaming, shaking, completely wrecked by you?”

Dave swallowed, his face still burning. “Yeah.”

Mark let out another whistle, still grinning like an asshole. “Dude, you are so much worse than I thought.”

Dave just clenched his jaw, his thoughts still racing. Because, fuck… the worst part?

He wanted it. Badly.

Dave kept going, his voice growing lower, more intense, as if saying all of this out loud was unlocking something deep inside him—something he had always kept buried.

“I want her to have big tits,” he muttered, swallowing hard. “Round, full, the kind that just demand to be touched. I want them to be soft but heavy in my hands, big enough that when I squeeze them, I can feel them spill between my fingers. I wanna run my palms over them, feel the warmth of her skin, the way her nipples harden when I touch her.”

His throat was dry, but the words kept spilling out, his mind already painting the picture in vivid detail.

“I wanna bury my face between them,” he continued, his breath hitching slightly. “Just press my lips against her, let my tongue trace over her skin, teasing her, making her shiver. I wanna hear her little gasps when I flick my tongue over her nipples, sucking on them, tasting her, feeling her body twitch under me. I wanna hear her moan when I take one into my mouth, sucking slow and deep, like I’m claiming her with every pull. I wanna bite down, just a little, enough to make her arch her back, enough to make her grab at my hair, whimpering for more.”

His fingers clenched into fists as he spoke, his pulse hammering, his face burning, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

“I want her to love it,” he murmured, his voice almost shaking. “I want her to melt every time I put my mouth on her, to gasp every time I cup her tits, to ache for it. I want her nipples to be so sensitive that just licking them makes her squirm, makes her thighs press together, makes her drip for me. I wanna suck on them until she’s a desperate, needy mess beneath me—whimpering, breathless, so fucking turned on that she can’t even think straight.”

Mark was staring at him now, wide-eyed, his smirk frozen in place like he had just witnessed something insane.

“Jesus fucking Christ, dude,” Mark finally said, laughing in disbelief. “Where the hell have you been hiding this filthy-ass mind?”

Dave exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Nah, fuck that,” Mark said, still laughing. “Bro, you just went on a full-ass monologue about sucking tits. Like, graphic detail. That was some porno-level shit.”

Dave groaned, sinking back into the couch. “I hate you.”

Mark shook his head, grinning. “Nah, man, I respect it.” He chuckled, leaning back. “But holy shit, dude. You’re sitting on years of repressed horny energy, and it shows.”

Dave clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest. He didn’t want to admit it, but Mark wasn’t wrong.

Because fuck, now that he had said it, he wanted it more than ever.

Dave exhaled, his pulse hammering as the words kept tumbling out, no longer held back by shame or restraint. Now that he had started, it was like he needed to say it all, to spill every fantasy that had been locked inside his head for years.

“And she’s gotta have thick thighs,” he continued, voice rough with something raw and unfiltered. “Like, soft, perfect thighs—thick enough that when she’s on top of me, I can feel them squeeze around my waist. I want to grab them, sink my fingers into them, feel the heat of her skin when she wraps them around me. I want her thighs to press against my face when I go down on her, to feel them quiver when she’s close, to hear her moan when I grab them and pull her closer, make her take it deeper.”

Mark whistled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Holy shit, dude, you are down bad.”

Dave barely even heard him. The image in his head was too strong now.

“And she’s gotta have that perfect hourglass shape,” he went on, his voice lower now, more intense. “Big tits, thick thighs, and a tight waist. The kind of body that just begs to be touched, to be worshipped.” He swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of his hoodie, his mind lost in the vision. “I wanna grab her waist when I’m fucking her, hold her tight, feel her back arch under me. I want her body to move with mine, to be so damn perfect that every thrust makes her shudder against me.”

Mark let out a stunned laugh, shaking his head. “Jesus, dude. You really thought about this, huh?”

Dave wasn’t done.

“But it’s not just that,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I don’t just want her body. I want her.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Oh? We’re getting deep now?”

Dave exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I want her to be mine,” he admitted. “Not just in bed. I want a girl who cares about me. Who’s always there, always looking after me, always wanting to make me happy. A girl who puts me first, who actually wants to be with me, who doesn’t just see me as some loser, but as a guy worth loving.”

Mark tilted his head, studying him. “Damn,” he muttered. “So you don’t just want a hot fucktoy—you want the whole thing.”

Dave nodded, clenching his jaw. “Yeah. I want a girl who’s good to me. Who takes care of me, who’s always by my side, who’s loyal.” His throat tightened. “I don’t want someone who’s just there for a night and then gone the next morning. I want someone who actually wants me. Someone who’s mine and only mine.”

Mark was quiet for a second, then let out a slow exhale. “Damn, dude. That’s actually kinda… sweet?” He smirked. “In a totally depraved, horny-as-fuck kind of way.”

Dave scoffed. “Shut the hell up.”

Mark grinned, shaking his head. “Nah, I get it. You want the perfect woman—sexy as hell, loyal as fuck, and completely obsessed with you.”

Dave swallowed, his face still burning. “…Yeah.”

Mark let out a low whistle. “Well, shit. Now you just gotta find her.”

Dave exhaled. “Yeah. Right.”

Because deep down, he knew.

Girls like that didn’t just exist—not for guys like him.

Dave let out a slow exhale, the weight of his own words settling in his chest like a stone. As much as the fantasies had poured out of him, raw and unfiltered, reality was still there, looming over him like a dark cloud.

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head, slumping back against the couch. “Not like it fucking matters,” he muttered.

Mark frowned, his smirk faltering for the first time. “What?”

Dave let out a humorless laugh, staring at the ceiling. “All of that shit I just said? It’s just a fucking fantasy. Some perfect girl who’s sexy as hell, thick in all the right places, obsessed with me, actually wants me? That girl doesn’t fucking exist, Mark. And even if she did?” He scoffed. “She wouldn’t want me.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go—”

“No, seriously,” Dave cut him off, his voice sharp. “Look at me. I’m not fucking you, alright? I’m not ripped, I don’t have an eight-pack, I don’t have girls whispering about my fat cock every time I leave the room. I don’t turn heads when I walk by. I’m just me. Just some scrawny, forgettable loser who’s spent his whole damn life on the sidelines.”

Mark’s expression shifted slightly, but Dave wasn’t done.

“You think a girl like that—some insanely hot, thick-ass, sex-obsessed dream girl—is gonna waste her time with a guy like me?” He laughed bitterly. “Nah, man. Girls like that go for guys like you. Guys who look good, who have confidence, who actually fucking matter.” His voice dropped lower, his fists clenching. “Girls don’t want guys like me, Mark. They don’t even fucking see us.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, the air heavier than before.

Mark exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Dude…”

Dave shook his head. “It’s just the truth, man. I can sit here and jack off to my own imagination all I want, but at the end of the day? I know exactly where I stand. I’m not that guy. I never was. And I never fucking will be.”

Mark was quiet for a second, then let out a slow exhale. “Damn,” he muttered. “That’s actually depressing as hell.”

Dave scoffed. “Welcome to my life.”

Dave let out another bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair, his frustration bubbling up like it had been waiting to explode for years. “You know what else I fucking wish?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Oh boy, here we go.”

“I wish I had a huge, thick, fat fucking cock like you,” Dave admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. His face burned, but fuck it—he was too far gone now. “Yeah. I fucking said it.”

Mark blinked, then immediately smirked. “Damn, bro. You want my dick now? Should I be worried?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dave snapped, exhaling sharply. “I’m serious, man. Do you have any fucking idea what it’s like to walk around knowing you’ve got nothing special? That even if a girl did somehow end up in bed with you, she wouldn’t be impressed? She wouldn’t crave it? She wouldn’t be addicted to it the way girls are with you?” His jaw clenched. “Man, I hear them talk about you, about how fucking big you are, how thick you are, how you wreck them, how they want more of you even after you’re done with them.” He exhaled sharply, his hands balling into fists. “I don’t get that. I don’t get shit. And you know why?”

Mark didn’t answer.

“Because I wasn’t fucking born with it,” Dave continued, his voice raw. “I don’t have some massive fucking cock that makes girls wet just thinking about it. I don’t get whispered about in hallways, don’t have chicks giggling about how they need to try me at least once. I don’t get to own a girl the way you do, to see her shake and fucking lose herself when I thrust inside her, to watch her body completely surrender because I’m the only thing she can even think about.” His breathing was heavy now, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he had just admitted.

Mark was just staring at him, his usual cocky expression now somewhere between amused and stunned. “Holy shit, dude.”

Dave let out a sharp exhale, rubbing his face. “Fucking hell, man.”

Mark shook his head, still smirking. “So let me get this straight—you wanna be huge. Like, you wanna be the guy that girls fucking worship because of how big and thick you are? The guy they can’t stop thinking about, the one they need to feel again?”

Dave swallowed, his voice quiet but firm. “…Yeah.”

Mark whistled. “Damn. That’s real.” He chuckled, leaning back. “Shit, dude, you’re out here wishing for a pornstar cock just so you can finally feel like you fucking matter.”

Dave clenched his jaw. “I just wanna know what it’s like, man. To have girls want me like that. To have them need me, crave me, obsess over me. To be the guy who can ruin them.” He exhaled. “Instead of just… fucking existing.”

Mark shook his head again, still looking at Dave like he had just uncovered some secret side of him that had been buried for years. “Man… you need a goddamn miracle.”

Dave laughed bitterly. “Yeah. No shit.”

Dave let out a heavy breath, still riding the wave of frustration, his mind spiraling deeper into everything he wished he could be. The words kept coming, tumbling out faster than he could stop them.

“And it’s not just the dick,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I want to be bigger. I want muscles. I want to be fucking ripped.” His fingers curled into fists as he spoke, the image forming in his mind—the version of himself that didn’t exist but should have. “I wanna have broad shoulders, strong arms, a chest that’s solid as hell. I wanna look in the mirror and see a man that turns heads, a guy that commands attention just by walking into a room.”

Mark was watching him now, arms crossed, the usual teasing smirk still there, but something else was behind his eyes—something that said he didn’t expect this level of honesty.

Dave kept going. “And mostly—especially—I want an eight-pack.” His voice was low, intense, like he was pouring years of unspoken envy into his words. “Not just abs—fucking perfect abs. Tight, defined, carved into my body like I was built for it. I want them to be so fucking cut that when a girl runs her hands over them, she has to stop and stare, just to take it in.” His breathing was heavier now, his fingers gripping his own stomach, as if his sheer desperation could will the muscle into existence.

“I want her to bite her lip when she sees them,” he went on, barely aware of how much he was saying. “I want her to trail her fingers down my stomach, tracing every ridge, feeling every inch of muscle, gasping when she realizes how fucking hard they are. I want her to want me just from looking at my body, just from knowing that I’m strong enough to pick her up, hold her down, take her however the fuck I want.” He swallowed, exhaling sharply. “I want to look like a goddamn sex god, the kind of man women dream about at night, the kind that makes them ache just thinking about.”

Mark let out a slow whistle, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, Dave.”

Dave exhaled, slumping back, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, man.”

Mark chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “Dude, this isn’t just ‘I wanna get in shape’—this is full-on transformation fantasy shit.” He smirked. “You don’t just wanna get laid—you wanna be a goddamn Greek statue that women can’t keep their hands off.”

Dave swallowed, his throat dry. “Yeah.” His voice was quieter now, but just as firm. “I wanna feel like I matter. I wanna be the guy girls crave. I want them to look at me the way they look at you.”

Mark whistled again, shaking his head with amusement. “Man… you don’t just need a miracle. You need a genie.”

Dave let out a bitter laugh, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I fucking do.”

Dave let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping, the fire in his voice flickering out as reality came crashing back down on him. His body visibly sagged, and whatever heat had been driving him just moments ago drained from his face.

He stared at the floor, running a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping it for a second before he let them drop. “But… it’s not like any of that’s ever gonna happen,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, tinged with something hollow. “The only way I’d ever look like that, the only way I’d ever have any of that, is if some fucking genie came down and made it real.”

Mark watched him, his smirk fading slightly. “Dude…”

Dave let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “I mean, let’s be real, Mark. This isn’t just ‘hitting the gym’ or ‘getting confidence’ or whatever bullshit advice people always give. You don’t just wake up one day with a perfect eight-pack, broad shoulders, and a huge fucking cock that makes girls desperate to ride you.” He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping his knees. “You don’t just become the kind of guy women drool over. Either you are or you’re not. And I’m not.”

His shoulders slumped further, his body practically folding into itself. He didn’t even try to sit up straight anymore. What was the point?

“I’d need actual fucking magic to change that,” he murmured, more to himself than to Mark. “Because no amount of effort, no amount of ‘self-improvement,’ is gonna turn me into that guy.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Mark, ever the optimist, leaned back, stretching his arms over the couch. “Well,” he said with a smirk, “guess you better start rubbing some lamps, then.”

Dave let out another hollow chuckle, but deep down, all he felt was defeat.

For once, Mark didn’t have a snarky remark ready. He just sat there, arms resting over the back of the couch, watching Dave visibly shrink into himself. The guy looked defeated. Like he had just let out every dark, buried thought he had ever had, only for reality to slap him right back down.

And for the first time, Mark actually felt bad.

He had never really thought about it before—not like this. Dave had always been Dave, his nerdy, awkward best friend who never really talked about this kind of stuff. Mark knew he was a virgin, sure, knew he wasn’t exactly a chick magnet, but he had never realized just how deeply that shit ate at him.

And the worst part?

Dave wasn’t wrong.

Mark exhaled, rubbing his jaw, his smirk completely gone now. He wasn’t stupid—he knew why girls went crazy over him. He had the full fucking package. Tall, ripped, broad shoulders, pecs that looked like they were carved out of stone. His abs? Perfect. Not just a six-pack—an eight-pack, the kind that made girls bite their lip when they saw him with his shirt off. They’d trail their hands over his stomach, tracing every line, moaning about how hard and perfect he felt.

And then, of course, there was the other thing.

His dick.

The thing that had basically turned into campus legend at this point. Girls talked about it—whispered about how big and thick he was, how just the thought of it made them wet. He had heard them giggle about it in hallways, at parties, sometimes even in class. He had seen the way they stared when he wore sweatpants, how they’d lean in and murmur, Oh my god, do you see that? It’s just—right there.

And the worst part? He didn’t even have to try.

Girls wanted him just because. Because he looked good, because he had the body, because he had the cock that made them go feral for him.

And Dave?

Dave had none of that.

No abs. No pecs. No legendary cock that had girls spreading their legs before he even said a word. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t the guy women craved. He wasn’t the guy who could make a girl wet just by walking into a room.

And Mark realized, for the first time, that yeah, that probably fucking sucked.

He sighed, rubbing his hands together, unsure of what the hell he was even supposed to say. He had never felt guilty about being attractive before. It wasn’t like he had chosen to be this way—it just was what it was. But looking at Dave now? Shoulders slumped, voice dead, staring at the floor like he was completely resigned to being nothing?

Yeah. That didn’t feel good.

“…Dude,” Mark finally said, his voice quieter than usual. “I—I don’t know what to say, man.”

Dave let out a humorless chuckle. “Don’t say anything. I already know.”

Mark swallowed, his throat dry.

Because for once, he didn’t have a single fucking joke.

Just the realization that his best friend was drowning in something he had never even noticed.

Mark sat there, staring at Dave, and the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. He had never seen his friend like this before—so defeated, so done. And the worst part?

Mark had never noticed.

Not really.

Yeah, he always knew Dave wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man. He knew the guy kept to himself, that he never tried to put himself out there, that he got awkward around girls—but Mark always just figured that was Dave being Dave. He had always chalked it up to his friend just not caring that much, like he had better things to do than chase women.

But now?

Now Mark was realizing that wasn’t it.

Dave cared. A lot.

And it fucking hurt him.

Mark leaned back, exhaling through his nose, the weight of it settling in his chest. He hated seeing his best friend like this. He hated the way Dave had slouched in on himself, like he was trying to disappear. The way his voice had gone flat, drained of any energy.

Mark had spent his whole damn life taking shit for granted. His body. His looks. The way girls wanted him, obsessed over him, needed him. He didn’t even have to fucking try. Women came to him. Women whispered about him, giggled about him, fantasized about what it would be like to be with him.

He had always loved that attention. It felt good knowing that he was the guy women craved. That when he hooked up with a girl, she would remember it. That even after he was done with her, she’d still want more.

But now?

Now he was realizing that Dave had never felt that. Not once.

The dude had spent his whole life invisible. Ignored. Overlooked. Like he wasn’t even there.

And that fucking sucked.

Mark swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably. “Shit, man…” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

Dave gave him a hollow chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Nothing to say, man. It is what it is.”

Mark hated that response.

Because no, that wasn’t how it should be.

But what the fuck was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just fix this. He couldn’t snap his fingers and make Dave attractive overnight, couldn’t magically give him the kind of body that made women drool, couldn’t hand him the confidence to walk up to a girl and make her want him.

He couldn’t change the fact that life had been unfair to his best friend.

And that made him feel like shit.

For the first time, Mark wished things weren’t so fucking easy for him. Wished he could take some of the bullshit attention he got and just give it to Dave. Because fuck, if anyone deserved to feel wanted for once in their goddamn life, it was him.

But life didn’t work like that.

And sitting here, watching Dave just accept his own misery?

Mark realized he hated that even more.

Mark sat there for a long moment, feeling the weight of everything Dave had just admitted pressing down on him like a fucking brick. His usual cocky smirk was gone, wiped clean off his face. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to say.

But he had to say something.

Because this? This wasn’t right.

He’d known Dave his whole damn life. Since they were kids. They’d been through everything together—late-night gaming marathons, dumb arguments over superhero matchups, dealing with school, with bullies, with all the bullshit life threw at them. And not once had Dave ever opened up like this before.

Not once had Mark ever realized just how much his friend was fucking hurting.

And that? That didn’t sit right with him.

Mark took a breath, rubbing his hands together, before finally speaking. “Dave, listen, man,” he started, his voice softer than usual, no teasing, no smugness. Just real talk. “I know you feel like shit right now. I know you think you’re stuck like this, that you’re always gonna be invisible, that no girl’s ever gonna want you the way you wanna be wanted.”

Dave let out a humorless chuckle, still staring at the floor. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Mark frowned. “No, dude. That’s bullshit.”

Dave blinked, looking up at him. “What?”

Mark shook his head. “All that shit you just said? About you never having a shot, about girls only wanting guys like me? It’s fucking bullshit.” His jaw tightened, his hands gripping his knees. “I’m not gonna sit here and act like I don’t have it easy. I do. I get girls without trying. I know that. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have the same shit, man. You’re acting like you’re some fucking nobody, like you don’t matter. And I hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

Dave scoffed, looking away. “Yeah, well, it’s the truth.”

“No, it’s not,” Mark shot back, his voice firm. “You’re making it the truth because you’re too scared to believe anything else. You could get girls, man. You could have everything you just talked about. But you already decided it’s impossible, so you don’t even try.”

Dave clenched his jaw, but Mark wasn’t finished.

“Look, I know I can’t magically make you jacked overnight. I can’t snap my fingers and give you a six-pack or a huge dick or whatever the fuck you think you need to be worth something,” Mark said, exhaling sharply. “But dude… that shit? It’s not what actually matters.”

Dave scoffed. “Easy for you to say.”

Mark leaned forward, eyes locked on his friend. “No. You don’t get it. I can fuck whoever I want. I can walk into a party, pick out a girl, and know I could take her home. And you know what? Half the time? It doesn’t even matter. It doesn’t fucking mean anything.”

Dave looked at him, confused. “What?”

Mark let out a breath. “Yeah, it’s fun. Yeah, it feels good. But none of those girls care about me, dude. Not really. They want the body, the reputation, the experience, whatever the fuck. But the second I stop being that guy, the second I stop looking the way I do, what happens? They’re gone.” He shook his head. “Meanwhile, you? You’re out here talking about wanting someone who actually fucking cares about you. Someone loyal, someone real. And yeah, you might not have girls throwing themselves at you like I do, but when you do find that girl?”

Mark gave him a firm look. “She’s gonna stay.”

Dave didn’t say anything, his expression tense, like he wanted to believe it but couldn’t.

Mark sighed. “I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. And yeah, maybe you don’t look like me. But that doesn’t mean you’re worthless, dude. That doesn’t mean you’re stuck like this forever.”

Dave swallowed hard, looking away. “I just… I don’t know, man.”

Mark smirked slightly, nudging him. “Well, good thing you’ve got me to keep reminding you, huh?”

Dave rolled his eyes, but for the first time in the whole conversation, there was something else there.

Something lighter.

And Mark?

For the first time, he didn’t feel like just the cool friend.

He felt like a good one.

Dave sat there for a long moment, staring at the floor, letting Mark’s words sink in. He still felt like shit, but… not as much as before. For once, instead of just drowning in his own self-loathing, he felt like someone had actually seen him—not just as the awkward, invisible guy on the sidelines, but as a person who mattered.

And it was Mark, of all people. The guy who had everything he wanted. The guy who could have laughed at him, brushed him off, told him to just “man up” and move on. But instead? He actually gave a shit.

Dave exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You know…” he muttered, still not looking at Mark directly. “If I could find someone with a personality like yours—someone who’s confident, who actually cares, who sticks around no matter what…” He swallowed, shaking his head slightly. “That’d be the kind of girl I’d want. Not just some random chick to hook up with, but someone who actually sees me. Someone who wants me, not just for a night, not just for my body or some stupid reputation, but because she actually cares.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Damn, bro, you got a crush on me or something?”

Dave let out a short, tired laugh. “Fuck off.”

Mark chuckled, but it wasn’t teasing—more like he was just happy to see Dave lighten up, even if just a little.

Dave exhaled, leaning back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “If a girl like that actually existed… man, I’d do anything for her. I wouldn’t even care if she was crazy, or needy, or clingy as hell. If she actually wanted me the way I want her…” He shook his head. “I could only wish.”

For a moment, silence settled between them.

Then Mark grinned. “Well, dude, maybe you should start wishing harder. Who knows? Maybe the universe is listening.”

Dave snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Because women like that?

They didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

…Right?

Dave let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he stared up at the ceiling. “Man… if only you were a woman,” he muttered, half-joking, half-serious.

Mark raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? You wanna fuck me now?”

“Dude, shut the fuck up,” Dave groaned, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

Mark laughed, stretching his arms behind his head. “Nah, nah, explain yourself, bro. You just said if I was a chick, it’d be awesome. What, you want me to grow tits and throw myself at you?”

Dave sighed. “No, dumbass. I just mean… you’ve got the kind of personality I wish I could find in a girl, you know?” He gestured vaguely. “You’re confident, you don’t take shit from anyone, but at the same time, you actually care. You’re loyal. You don’t just ditch people when they’re at their lowest. You stick around. You’re a real friend.”

Mark blinked, caught off guard for a second. “Huh.”

Dave shrugged. “I just mean… if there was a woman out there who was like you, but, you know, not a dude—that’d be fucking amazing.” He let out a breath. “Like, imagine that. A girl who’s hot as hell but also my best friend. Someone who actually gets me, who sticks by me, who’s always there no matter what.”

Mark smirked. “And who’s also submissive as fuck and obsessed with your dick, huh?”

Dave groaned, running a hand down his face. “God, I hate you.”

Mark just grinned. “Nah, dude, I get it. You want the perfect woman. Sexy, devoted, loyal, and actually fun to be around.”

Dave nodded. “Exactly. If that kind of girl existed? Man… life would be fucking perfect.”

Mark snorted. “Well, shit, dude. You better start rubbing some magic lamps or something.”

Dave chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah. If only.”

Because something like that?

That was just a fantasy.

…Right?

To be continued...