The next morning,
"Aaahh!" Michael yawned loudly and stretched in the bed, rubbing his eyes before glancing at the window and murmuring, "Hmmm, the sun has risen, huh? Is everybody awake?"
He saw the time on his phone and said, "Oh! It's eight already. Maybe Mom or Theresa is having their breakfast? I'll wash up and go downstairs."
He was about to get up when he noticed his morning wood and grumbled, "Oh, yeah. It's back."
He climbed out of bed and prepared himself in front of his full-length mirror for a few minutes, warming up the muscles in his legs and arms shaking off any vestige of sleep in his body. He did two sets of squats before executing jumping jacks for some time. When he saw his boner didn't recede, he thought in exasperation, 'Oh, come on, really?!'
He sighed in exasperation and headed toward his bathroom. Once inside, he took off his boxers and shirt. After jerking off and getting rid of the boner, he felt the same itch that bugged him, but this time, the feeling was highly intense.
He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he fought against the intense urge to scratch his cock off. After a few seconds, the feeling vanished, and he sighed in relief. He frowned in confusion and thought, 'This is really confusing. My cock is so weird these days because of the drug. First, it becomes hard after seeing my own sister, which is fucking disgusting, to be honest. Then, it's this fucking itch! What is this shit? What the fuck is happening? I've noticed that every time I cum, the itch returns. This is too much!'
He rubbed his neck and thought, 'I will ask Dr. Hyde about this itch. This is too much! I need to inform her because I can't sit here and hope the itchiness will disappear.'
He sighed, took a shower, and got out after a while, only to stand in front of his full-length mirror and examine his body while comparing his body with his thoughts. He gently ran his hands over his body and began poking different places to check. He spent a few seconds checking other body parts before doing light push-ups and sit-ups and moving toward his closet.
After a while, Michael grabbed a random pair of shorts, boxers, and a T-shirt and put them on before leaving his room and heading downstairs.
Entering the kitchen, he saw Florence and Theresa chatting with each other while eating their breakfast at the dining table. Theresa was drinking a glass of orange juice while Florence was reading the newspaper she probably bought while she was on her morning run.
Theresa spotted Michael and greeted him with a smile, "Good morning, bro. Today, you got up early, huh."
"Morning to you too, Sis." He returned the greeting, replied with a smile, and walked toward the fridge to get the milk.
"Good morning, Mom!" He greeted
Florence glanced in his direction before turning her gaze to the newspaper she was reading and said normally, "Good morning, Michael!"
Michael raised his brows.
'She's acting weird this morning. For some reason, I feel that something about her is slightly off. Maybe it's just me being ridiculous,' He thought as he shook his head.
He grabbed a big glass from the cabinet and poured milk into almost half a drink when his nostrils flared up, and he inhaled the wonderful aroma of cooked eggs, bacon, pancakes, etc.
Licking his lips, he put the milk packet back into the fridge and drank the milk from the glass while walking to the dining table.
He sat beside Theresa and began eating the delicious breakfast that Florence had prepared.
Everybody was unusually silent; nobody talked to each other while eating breakfast, and the only sound in the room was the occasional clang of metal cutlery against the ceramic plates.
All three had normal expressions while eating, but on the inside...
'I need to figure out what this itch is? I heard that some sophomore kid went to a strip club and fucked a prostitute. Then, he discovered he had STD because of the constant itching down there. What if... I had it? Damn! What the fuck am I thinking? I'm going to jinx myself. I stick to asking Dr. Hyde,' Michael thought and gulped down a piece of the pancake.
'And, now that I think about it, Dr. Hyde had mentioned that the drug contained natural and artificial healing substances. So... does that mean that the drug is healing my cock? Maybe... It's possible. I must watch it and figure out what it's doing to my cock. Maybe... just maybe... my cock is growing? I know it's ridiculous to assume, but it doesn't hurt to keep an eye on that, too, right? If... and I mean a big, fat, 'IF' my cock is getting bigger, my accident wasn't a tragedy but a blessing in disguise.' Michael thought.
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