Eda slumped back on his bed, the damp waistband of his grey sweats clinging uncomfortably. The itch and ache, his constant companions for the past week, were a raging inferno in his ass. He grumbled, scrolling through his phone, trying to distract himself. Another wave of slick pre-cum oozed out, and he clenched, fighting the urge to just shove something – anything – up there. Just then, a BANG echoed from the hallway – someone slamming a door.

'Who the hell is that?' Eda thought, irritation flaring. He wasn't in the mood for company. But then, a familiar voice.

"Eda? You in there, little cuz?"

His eyes widened. Leaning in the doorway, bathed in the hallway light, was someone he hadn't seen in years.

"Lean?" Eda blurted out. Three years. Three long years since he'd seen his cousin.

The figure grinned and pushed the door open further. It was Lean. Older, but with that same damn mischievous glint in his eyes. Eda forced a smile, shoving down the desperate throbbing in his ass.

Lean stood there, the complete opposite of Eda's hulking frame. Where Eda was all quiet and contained power, Lean, at 27, was a live wire. Short, sun-bleached hair, a face that seemed permanently stuck in a half-smile. Lean was all lean muscle and nervous energy. A good foot shorter than Eda, and probably weighs in at a featherweight 120 pounds. Smooth skin, where Eda imagined his own was rough and calloused. Cousins, sure, but they looked like they came from different planets.

Eda: "Dude, Lean? What the hell? I haven't seen you in forever!" Eda managed, trying to sound welcoming, trying to ignore the screaming hunger of his hole.

The second Lean stepped into the room, the tattoo reacted. As Eda looked at his cousin, the details of Lean's cock flooded his mind, just like it had with every other guy. The tattoo didn't hold back, showing it all, details Eda desperately wanted to unsee.

He prayed, begged for it to stop, but the tattoo didn't give a damn. Its only goal: is to trap Eda in a web of lust.

Lean might be small, but the tattoo showed a different story. Lean's strength wasn't in his overall size; it was all concentrated in his cock.

The image in Eda's mind was hyper-realistic, like Lean was standing there, naked. The tattoo spared no detail, showcasing Lean's dick like it was some kind of trophy.

It was massive. Ten inches long, two inches wide, circumcised, with a flared, smooth head that got thicker towards the base. It curved upwards, a thick, rigid weapon. As long and thick as a child's forearm. The shaft was strong, a thick vein pulsing down its length. The head was huge, swollen, a deep, angry red. The texture... smooth, but with a slight roughness, warm and inviting. It was... breathtaking. And Eda's mind was already conjuring up fantasies, fueled by the tattoo's graphic display. He could practically feel it, imagine the weight, the heat...

They shot the breeze, catching up in Eda's dorm room. Lean was on a work trip – lucky bastard, it was practically in Eda's backyard. So, of course, he had to drop in on his favorite (and only, as far as Eda knew) younger cousin after all these years. They cracked open a couple of beers, the condensation cold against their hands, talking about everything and nothing. But for Eda, it was a goddamn torture chamber.

Eda's pussy had been reacting to Lean the instant he walked in. Throbbing, desperate, aching for something to fill it. And it was only getting worse. The throbbing intensified, a relentless pulse. More and more of that slick, clear lube poured out, soaking the back of his underwear. It was a constant, humiliating reminder of what he'd become.

He tried to fight it. He really did. But the hunger... it was like a physical force. A hunger for cock, for cum. The craving for Lean's monstrous cock was overwhelming, consuming his every thought. He could feel the heat building, a burning pressure that threatened to consume him. His body trembled, every inch of him screaming for release.

Then, something snapped. Eda's mind... changed. It was like a thirst, a primal urge that took over everything. His straightness, his masculinity, his reputation, his thoughts of girls... they were all gone, replaced by one all-consuming need: cum. Fresh, hot cum, pumped directly from Lean's massive cock. This wasn't just a desire; it was a necessity. The only way to ease this agonizing pressure was to give in. To take what his body was demanding. He was no longer in control. The tattoo had won.