You decide that it is best if you keep your ability to grow under wraps. You begin to walk out the door when you notice you are in your thin and now tight boxers and your penis is seeping out of the easy access hole. You scratch your head and begin to turn around to ask the woodland creature if he could grant you the ability to make clothes larger when you realize he is gone. You sigh and wonder what you are going to do now. You glance at your appearance one more time envisioning friends who are your size when your mother raps on the door. You quickly grasp the item that is closest to you, which is a tissue box.
"Jacob Alexander Davis," your mother states as she opens the door. She remains at the frame of the door her mouth ajar
"Mo-m," your voice thick. You press the tissue box against your flaccid member.
Your mother expeditiously removes herself from your room afraid.
The tension in you shoulder vanishes and you are thankful she didn't question your sudden growth spurt. You scratch your scalp with your free hand still in need of some clothes. You close your door and remove the tissue box from your member. You smile envisioning the candidate who owns the best clothes.
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