Eric was working on his car. His waist and tan legs stuck out from under the front end of it as he banged around underneath the engine. He wore a raggedy pair of Vans on his feet, and as was customary with him, no socks. The banging stopped.

"Hey man, hand me that socket, will ya?" he shouted from under the car.

I sat near the toolbox as was customary and fished around inside it for the proper tool. I eventually found it. "Here ya go."

A greasy hand extended from underneath the car and I shoved the socket into it.

"Thanks man," he replied as he resumed working.

Eric and I had been friends and roommates for several years since we first met in the dorms. He always fascinated me with his casual attitude, and I was secretly attracted to him because of it. I was especially obsessed with his feet: He seemed to show them at every opportunity. The guy hardly ever wore shoes. When he did, he never wore socks. I always suspected there was something even more unusual about him than his casual attitude, and that it had to do with his feet.

His feet weren't especially large, about size 11, but they were perpetually tan and muscular, with long, almost finger-like toes. He picked up stuff off the ground routinely, grasping whatever object he needed or found interesting between or below those long toes. When he wasn't picking stuff off the ground, or walking, he often played with his toes, tapping his fingers on them, or cracking them like his knuckles.

"This damn starter," he mumbled as he cranked on some bolt, shaking the car. "Ouch! Shit! Gimme a 14 millimeter wrench."

I dug through the toolbox and produced the requested tool. "What's the matter?" I asked.

"Some engineer designed this damn thing with different size bolts just to be a pain in the ass." Eric laughed. "At least they used metric."

I stared at his feet, which he had now crossed. "Sounds like a typical engineer," I said, "always trying to make things seem more complicated than they really are." I started getting a boner, as I usually did about this time. I had assisted with many operations on the car: spark plugs, cv joints, oil changes, you name it. It gave me a great opportunity to look at Eric's feet without him knowing it, I thought.

I said, "They must've designed these things to be fixed by a fleet of people, or by one person with a buncha arms." I had always fantasized that Eric would be able to grow more feet, but arms would stimulate me about as much and it was much easier to joke about having more hands than feet. I worked that into the conversation whenever I could and he would always laugh. This time was different.

"You know," he said from underneath the car, "That's not a bad idea. Here, can you put this back in the toolbox for me?" his hand reached out with a wrench. I took it and stowed it in the toolbox. I looked back and he was trying, unsuccessfully, to kick off his shoes. "Uh, dude, could you take my shoes off?"

This was a new one, and one that got me extremely hard. "Uh, sure," I said and I slipped his shoes off and set them by the toolbox.

As he wiggled his toes, I felt precum oozing out of the tip of my dick. "Thanks man," he said, "that feels awesome." He stopped wiggling his toes and crossed his legs. That always got me off. I pictured him often sitting like that, his glorious feet prominently displayed at the center, growing pairs of arms like an Asian god.

After we both had a few beers I would ask him to take off his shoes and sit cross-legged. He usually would. I would thank him. He would shake his head, then I'd stumble back to my room and beat off.

I could hear him mumbling something underneath the car. His toes suddenly clinched and he became quiet.

"Ahhh," he said, "Now I can get to work." He unfolded his legs and went back to work. He seemed to work faster after that. He quickly got the old starter out and handed it to me. I took the new one out of its box and handed it to him. Then he banged and torqued and grunted away as I stared at his feet.

"Finished!" he proclaimed. I pulled my shirt down and tried to mentally deflate or hide my boner before he saw it. He unfolded his legs and started scooting out from underneath the car. "It's Miller time! I better..." he mumbled, then said, "Ahh, what the hell."

He wiggled out from under the car. "Hey dude, what'd'ya think of my new accessories?"

I watched as he sqirmed out from the car and showed me four arms. "Pretty cool, huh?"

My jaw dropped open. He grinned and picked up his toolbox with one hand, the old starter with another, and his shoes with a third.

"Meet ya inside, dude," he said and jogged into the apartment.

I sat behind the car on the pavement, confused and hard. I shook my head to snap myself back to reality. Then I ran inside the apartment.

I shut the door and looked around the apartment. Eric yelled from the kitchen, "Sit down, I'm getting us some beers."

I sat down on the floor.

I heard the refrigerator door close, then the sound of four beers being opened. Eric came walking out of the kitchen, a beer in each of his four hands. "Here ya go dude," he said as he handed me a beer. "I figured you might need an extra one." He sat down on the couch across the room from me and propped his bare feet up on the coffee table. He folded two of his arms and raised them up, his hands behind his head. His second right hand lifted a beer to his mouth, and he took a big swig. His second left hand rested on his crotch.

"Dude..." I gasped, "what the hell..."

He swallowed his beer, then smiled and said, "Take it easy man. Don't freak out on me."

"What do you mean, don't freak out? You're my best friend and you suddenly grow extra arms, which people aren't supposed to do. What do you expect me to do?"

"I kinda thought you'd react a little... uh... differently. They're cool, though. Don't ya think?" And he looked at his arms, then stared right at me and grinned. "Come on, man, you've been making jokes about this for three years. I know ya think this is cool... more than cool. But if you don't, I can always go back to two."

"No." I said quickly, "Don't do that."

He took another big gulp of beer. "Kinda turns you on, doesn't it?" He asked, grinning.

I blushed, "Uhhh, no. I mean, kinda. Ok. Yeah, it does. How'd you know? Wait a minute... first tell me how."

"You mean how I did this? One question at a time, man. First, you've been joking about this since I met you. And I've looked in the right place when you've joked about it, late at night, after a few beers. You had a big boner, dude." He grinned widely.

He continued, "Second, I just can. After hearing your jokes for a few years, I decided it would be cool to be able to grow extra arms. One night after I shroomed, my body felt all kinda rubbery. I wanted to be able to have extra arms. I got naked and sat on my bed (I always knew there was something cool about that) and I concentrated real hard. After a while, all of a sudden, I felt this surge of energy, kind of orgasmic like, and bingo, I had four arms. I don't know how it happened. It just did it. And I've gotten better at it since. Wanna see some more? I know ya do. You'd like to see feet and legs, right?"

I nodded silently and took a large gulp of beer.

"Thought so. Ok, man. Hang on. I gotta get prepared for this." He finished his first beer and set the empty down on the floor. He stood up and removed his shorts, revealing his huge cock, standing about a foot erect. "Don't wanna screw up my shorts." He said. He sat back down, naked, his feet again on the coffee table and his arms at his side. He looked at me and said, "How many?"

"How many?" I asked.

"Yeah, man, how many feet? Six enough?" He asked patiently.

"Damn, yeah."

"Ok, six." He sighed and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths, slowly at first, then faster. His dick stood at attention, and his right hand moved to it and gently massaged the tip, which was moist with pre-cum. One of his left hands massaged his thigh, the other his chest. His second right hand grabbed ahold of the armrest of the couch, tightly. I looked down at his feet. His toes wiggled quickly, then stopped. I looked up at his face. He grinned and said, "This feels so fucking awesome. Here ya go, six feet."

I looked back to his feet. They had begun to stretch, to seem slightly out of phase, then quickly, all of a sudden, he had six of them.

"Dude! Can I suck on em?"