Carefree cigars, that was what the label said. Still, they weren’t too expensive, and Tony still hadn’t really settled on a brand that he especially liked, so he decided to give them a try, and as he walked down the street he found a bar with some outdoor smoking where he figured he could sneak a smoke, ordered a beer, and lit one of them up. Carefree was right–the feeling they gave him was stronger than most any other brand he’d ever had, and they just made him…happy, and not really care about what was going on around him. His beer arrived, and he drink it down a bit faster than he’d intended, and then ordered another one, and downed that too, before starting on the second cigar in the pack.

Three beers later, Tony was feeling good–well, aside from one thing–he was horny. Hornier than he could remember being, well, ever. His cock was rock hard in his shorts, and he kept rubbing it, not really able to stop himself, or even care what people might think about it. He pulled his cock out, discovering it was bigger than he remembered, and started jacking off at the table, making no effort to disguise what he was doing, and he shot a load all over his shirt, before he came to, realized everyone was staring at him, and drunkenly stumbled up and hurried home.

Still, the privacy of his house wasn’t much better, and he stripped down to his jockstrap and started jacking off, unable to contain himself, shooting load after load as he sat on the couch, smoking cigar after cigar, guzzling beer, the other thoughts and cares taking a back seat to his raging horniness. As the night progressed, he started to change little by little, picking up some grey in his hair and beard, tattoos forming across his body, all of them crude and obscene but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting off.

By morning, it was a very different Tony who stumbled out of his apartment, covered with tattoos, wearing nothing but a leather vest, chaps and some jeans with the crotch ripped open, showing off his ten inch cock for everyone to see, and he hopped onto his motorcycle and drove off. He needed some more cigars first, and then he needed to get to the biker bar. He’d remembered seeing a piggy pipe for sale, and he figured he could probably find someone there to smoke it for him.

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