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  1. 14 points
    Before we begin, I have a couple notes: First, this story was inspired by this post from SuperWaffle over on tumblr. Second, I wrote this over on my blogger, and in transferring it here some of the formatting and whatnot was lost. For a slightly prettier looking version of this story, read it here. With that out of the way, read on and enjoy! Freak Find at the Flea Market Jonathan Riley wandered the narrow pathways between booths and tables, not really looking at the goods that were on display. The gymnasium of the local community centre was currently home to a flea market, and Jon had been planning to meet up with some friends there for a low-key way to pass some time on a boring summer weekend, but at the very last minute they all had to pull out. Jon had already been almost there when he got the texts so he figured he may as well poke around a bit on his own, but it just wasn't fun without his friends there to goof off with. On the verge of calling it quits, Jon looked up from his aimless wandering to find he'd walked into someone's "shop". It was just a couple tables of knick-knacks and a clothing rack, placed together under a collapsible canopy. The owner didn't seem to be present. Jon turned to leave, but his eyes fell on a shirt hanging on the rack and he froze. Slowly he reached out and removed the hanger from the rack. The shirt was a white muscle tee, the kind that had a neckline like an ordinary tee shirt, but no sleeves, and armholes that dipped down low to reveal the wearer's entire side. Written in an arc across the chest in bold block letters, like those found on the backs of varsity jackets, was the word FREAK. Beneath that, in the same font but large enough to take up the rest of the front, was the number 8. "Find what you're looking for?" Jon almost jumped straight through the canopy. He turned to see the man who must be the stall's owner. How had he not noticed him return? "Um, y-yeah," stammered Jon. "I mean, I think so? I don't really know..." The man looked at the tank in Jon's hands and smiled. "Oh yes, I think those are exactly what you want, young man." "Those?" Jon was confused. He just had the one item. Still smiling, the man simply reached in through the tee's armhole and fished something out. Hanging by its waistband, but hidden inside the shirt, was a plain white jockstrap. Well, maybe not "plain". Jon suddenly felt himself blushing. The pouch on the thing was huge! He didn't know why, but he wanted these clothes desperately. Needed them. He turned them over and over in his hands. "Um, there's no price on them," Jon said. If anything, the man smiled wider than ever. "Tell ya what. Nobody else has so much as looked at those things," he said. "There's no way I'll be able to sell 'em. Why don't you just go ahead and take 'em." Jon excitedly agreed, then quickly made his way to the exit. He desperately wanted to try the clothes on. As he neared the gymnasium doors, he realized that he should have at least thanked the man for the gift and turned back. He could see the man's stall from where he was, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Well, he couldn't have gone far. Shouldn't be too hard to find him again. Except... Jon frowned. For some reason, he couldn't remember what the man looked like. At all. That was weird. But then, Jon had been very focused on the tank and jock while talking to the man. That's right, the tank and jock... He should hurry home to try them on... ***** Standing in his room, stripped to his undies in front of his full-length mirror, Jonathan stared at his body and suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. Weighing a mere 150 pounds while standing at 6'5", he was a very skinny guy, no two ways about it. He was normally okay with that, but for some reason he now felt... inadequate. Despite his skinniness, Jon was not unattractive. His skin was smooth and clear, he had a strong jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes were piercing blue and his hair was full and thick. And yet... Jon took a deep breath and could see every one of his ribs. The bones at his elbows, shoulders, and knees were easily made out beneath his skin. His boxer-briefs should have clung to his thighs but were almost loose enough to just be boxers. His manhood was fairly average he knew but without the bulk of thighs to push it forward the front pouch of his boxer-briefs seemed almost empty. It wasn't like he'd never tried to bulk up. He'd gone to a gym for a while, but it hadn't seemed to help at all, and he'd been self-conscious the entire time. But he'd played basketball all through junior high and high school. His height had made him a shoe-in. Of course, that height also accentuated his slimness. Jon glanced over his shoulder at the muscle tee and jockstrap that were laid out on his bed. Why had he wanted them so badly? They didn't suit him at all. This day has been so weird. He sighed, picked up the tee, and went back to his mirror. May as well just try it on... In spite of his misgivings, the tee didn't actually look that ridiculous on him. Oh, he'd never wear it out and about, but it would be fine for just laying around the house, playing video games... Jon smiled. He hadn't gotten in his head like that for a long time, but he was through it now. As if to fully banish the negative thoughts, Jon struck up an ironic double biceps pose and winked at his reflection. He chuckled to himself and began to turn away, but stopped and looked back at the mirror. Slowly he brought his right arm back up and flexed again. There was some clear definition there, a nice little bump of a bicep. Some weird trick of the light even made it seem like Jon's arm was growing right in front of his eyes. Jon brought his other hand up to feel, and was shocked to find his arm was definitely thicker! Where he could normally almost close his hand around his upper arm, there was now more than an inch between his fingers and thumb. And the gap was widening! He stepped closer to the mirror and struck up another double biceps pose, watched for a moment as his arms thickened slowly but steadily. Not just his biceps, either, his forearms seemed to be inflating too! Jon dropped the pose to look down at the rest of his body, which had been keeping pace while he was enraptured with his arms. His knobbly knees had once been the widest parts of his legs, but now his calves made them look narrow, and this thighs absolutely dwarfed them! The once-loose legs of his boxer-briefs were now tight and pushed up by his growing quads, which were showing deeper and deeper definition between the individual muscles. The muscle tee was becoming tight now, and Jon looked back at his reflection to get the full view. Wait, was the mirror shorter than before, or... No way. Jon was growing taller, too! This had to be some kind of dream, right? When he got back from the flea market he'd probably laid down on his bed and dozed off. That had to be it. But, as long as he was dreaming, he might as well enjoy it, right? Over top of the tee, Jon ran his hands across his abs, feeling the rippling sheets of muscle. It felt like running his hands over corrugated steel. His hands rose higher to cup the heavy weight of his new, swollen pecs. Jon desperately wanted to see his muscles unobscured by the shirt, but he didn't dare remove it. This miraculous growth must have been caused by the shirt somehow. What if taking it off stopped the growth? As he marvelled at his ever expanding form, Jon realized he wasn't just packing on muscle. His skeleton had to be changing too. There was the obvious case of his greater height—he seemed to have settled at about seven feet tall!—but his hands and feet seem to have increased as well, proportionally with his height. Distinctly out of proportion, though, were his shoulders. While originally they'd been only slightly wider than his waist, they were now on their way to being twice as wide! His new bulging delts couldn't account for that width on their own. The muscle tee, once baggy, was now straining across Jon's massive, heaving chest, and was approaching skin-tight on his growing, but still relatively narrower, trunk. The deep armholes reached Jon's waist, and he gaped at the fact that his lats almost filled them top-to-bottom. Giving his lats a flex made him look like he'd sprouted wings! The tightness of the tee was now becoming uncomfortable. Maybe this was big enough. Jon reached for the bottom of the shirt, but he couldn't find it. His fingers slid down over fabric that morphed seamlessly into the deep-v of his new Adonis belt. Jon started to panic. He had to get the shirt off! It was so tight now that he couldn't take a full breath! His fingers felt all around his hips, his shoulders, his neck, searching for the hem of the shirt but it just wasn't there. Jon gave up the search and stared at his still-swelling physique in the mirror with horror that still bordered on awe. Then the shirt itself began to change. A dark line formed down the centre of the numeral eight on his abdomen. Then two more lines, one across the upper circle and one across the lower. The muscle tee began to sink into the crevices between Jon's muscles, as though he were being vacuum sealed. The now eight sections of the number shifted slightly to take on the shape and position of the eight ripped abs beneath them. A deep cleft appeared between his massive pectorals. Even the smaller waves of his obliques and serratus muscles were filled in. When the shirt was literally skin-tight, a new change began. Starting at the bottom, the white material began to disappear, or maybe merge into the skin beneath. Either way, it was vanishing. The black remains of the numeral eight faded too, replaced by the deep gutters between Jon's abs. His nipples poked through like pencil-erasers. The fabric of the shirt receded up and up until the last of it vanished from the peaks of his traps. The transformation was over, but one thing was left behind. Across Jon's powerful chest was the word FREAK in bold black letters. Wonderingly, Jon brought his hand up to feel the letters. They felt just like his skin. He'd been tattooed. But as his hand ran over his mighty pecs, Jon couldn't help but admit that it was accurate. He was a freak now. He threw a crab pose, and the letter E was almost completely swallowed in the cleft of his chest. Jon was a glorious muscle freak. He turned around and looked over his shoulder to see his broad back in the mirror. It was every bit as impressive as the rest of him was now. There were only a few things that seemed to be missing... Facing the mirror again, Jon looked at the pouch of his underwear. It was much better filled out now that his tree trunk-like legs pushed all of his goods forward, but it was clear that whatever magic had given him his new body hadn't affected his junk at all. He stripped off his boxer-briefs and stood completely bare. His cock and balls had been decidedly average before, but that meant they'd seemed relatively large compared to his narrow frame. Now that he was built like a god, his dick seemed downright puny. And when he turned to check out his ass, it was clear that it had toned up considerably and grown a little, but it still seemed out of proportion with the rest of him. Why would the shirt ignore these two parts of him? A glimpse of white on his bed behind him caught his eye in the mirror. Of course! The jockstrap! Jon quickly grabbed it and returned to the mirror to don it. The straps stretched considerably going over his thick thighs, but the pouch was still fairly loose. Jon hoped that was about to change. Nothing seemed to be happening. Jon turned slightly to view his package from the side. Still no change. Maybe the jockstrap is just a jockstrap. A shame if true, but if nothing else the straps accentuated his ass, making it seem not quite so small, relative to the rest of him. Hold on... His ass actually was bigger. And still growing. The jockstrap worked just like the tee! Jon turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder. He reached both of his hands down and gripped one growing cheek in each, giving them a squeeze. His powerful fingers sank into the soft flesh, until he flexed his glutes and the hardening muscles forced the digits back out. Jon squeezed and flexed a few more times. Each time his fingers sank in with more difficulty, and were more easily pushed back out by his inflating ass cheeks. He would have continued, but his attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. While Jon had been focused on his expanding ass, the jock pouch had been getting more and more crowded. Jon turned once more to face the mirror to get a full frontal on this new development. His manhood was now making three distinct bulges in the fabric, two egg-shaped lumps beneath a lengthening sausage. He watched, slack-jawed, and the bulges grew and grew, but a problem was becoming apparent. Just as the muscle tee had begun to compress his lungs when his upper body filled it completely, the jock pouch was beginning to compress Jon's growing goodies. The pressure on his cock and balls was merely uncomfortable for now, but if his plumbing continued to inflate it would soon become rather painful. Luckily, the pouch had reached its capacity and the next stage began. Just as the shirt had sunken into every nook and cranny of Jon's upper body, so too did the jockstrap begin to form around his dick and ballsack. The sight of his junk perfectly encompassed in the white fabric was surprisingly lewd. And it made the increased size of it very obvious. Though his softball sized nuts were held tight to his body by the clinging material, Jon's new python hung almost halfway to his knees. But it didn't hang for long. In a slow, pulsing manner, Jon's massive member began to harden, climbing higher as every beat of his heart sent a throb through its new length. The fabric of the jockstrap strained against this different kind of growth. As his erection reached maximum hardness, almost brushing the underside of his mammoth pecs, Jon felt a rush of warmth fill him and knew he was on the brink of shooting. He hadn't even touched his cock! Waves of pleasure were rocking through him, but he wasn't cumming yet. He looked down, past his colossal manhood, and saw the leg straps beginning to vanish into his skin, just as the tee had done earlier. He turned to see the waist strap disappearing above his shelf-like bubble butt, before facing the mirror head on again. The fabric over his package had begun to recede as well, beginning with his constricted scrotum. As the white material vanished, his giant balls fell heavily to the bottom of his freed sack. The diminishing fabric then began travelling up his shaft. This seemed to push Jon's orgasm right to the brink. The powerful muscles around his manhood began to pulse and flex, making his nuts rise and fall and his cock sway back and forth. Jon's pleasure climbed along with the fabric, and the flexing of his groin muscles intensified. His balls were practically vibrating against his taint now, and his dick was rebounding off of his abs with meaty thuds. The material reached the flaring flange of his cockhead. Jon was almost out of his mind with ecstasy. Finally, the fabric reached the wide piss-slit of Jon's spasming phallus and vanished completely. Jon's orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. His entire muscular body locked up except when a new wave pulsed through him, making his hips buck like a bronco. His cannon-sized cock fired off volley after volley of thick, pearly cum with such force that it was able to splatter against the ceiling. But the bucking of his body and the twitching of his dick meant that the creamy salvos hit many more targets. Thick ropes of cum burst against Jon's face, his pecs, his abs, and all over the mirror in front of him. What seemed like and hour later, the last few shots of spunk arced out onto his bedroom floor. Jon's entire body was quaking. His arm moved heavily to smear his jizz off of the mirror so that he could look at himself. His upped body was caked in his manly batter. Spunk obscured his new chest tattoo and filled his cleavage. Strings of semen hung off his nipples, and ran down the gutters of his abs. Residual cum poured from his cockhole and trickled down his shaft to drip from his low hanging balls. Jon just stood there, panting, for a moment. He still wasn't sure whether this had all been a dream or not, but if it was, he was sure he'd wake to find it had been a wet one! He was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of his phone vibrating a few times on his dresser, signalling a series of texts. He left a trail of cum drips on his way to read it. It was from his buddy Cliff. hey, it said, sorry I bailed on the flea market thing was probably lame without me, I know ? parents were being weird, needed to talk anyway I'm free now so we can hang, almost at your place find anything cool at the market? Jon didn't know what to do. How was he going to explain what had happened to him? Did he have enough time to clean up his musky mess? What could he wear? None of his clothes would fit him now. How was Cliff going to react?
  2. 11 points
    Hi, everyone! Sorry this part took so long. I was focusing on two other projects for a novel and a screenplay I've been working on for the past two weeks. This part may not be as slow-paced or edited as the last two parts, but I hope that you all still enjoy it. It's a bit longer than the last two parts just to make up for lost time. Froy won't be getting too much screen time, but he will have a lot more significance in later parts. If anyone has any comments, suggestions, or constructive criticism to help me edit or write better, no matter how subjective, I'm very open. Thanks! PART 3 “Sir, are you sure we should be doing this?” “Relax, Marcus isn’t coming in today.” “But sir, what about your boss?” I pointed at his office. “Wes? He asked me to do this.” I kept digging through Marcus’ desk, filing through his cabinets and small drawers, just to find that small damn box of tic-tacs. The original plan was to wait until Marcus came into work so I could ask him to give them to me, but clearly, waiting for Marcus was a pipe dream. I never realized how infrequently he came in to work before. Wes was still waiting for me to get him those pills Marcus gave him that night, and I didn’t want to keep the boss waiting. Froy accompanied me and joined me, like he always did, in scavenging through Marcus’ things, but neither of us found anything that even resembled a tic-tac. We did find one pill, but Froy told me it was just regular old viagra. I didn’t bother asking him how he knew that. I didn’t bother asking why there was viagra at Marcus’ desk either. I got up from the ground and wiped the sweat off my brow. “Yeah, I don’t think they’re here.” “Me too, sir. I could try calling him if it’s okay, sir?” “How do you have his number?” “He accidentally wrong-texted me a few days ago, and it sounded like he was inviting some girl named Lisa over to his condo for, um, ‘game night.’” “...So how did he get your number?” Marcus was honestly such a mystery. “Whatever, go. Ask him where he kept the pills. I’ll check online if I can find out where he’s been.” I took out my phone and opened up all his social media accounts. Maybe I would be able to find out where Marcus has been and what the hell he’s been doing. I was almost afraid to see if he grew again. The guy knew what got to me, and the fact that he was growing meant he could do whatever the hell he wanted to me because I would follow. He wasn’t wrong either. I was a sucker for muscle—a true muscle bitch, mind the language. His Facebook opened up, but it didn’t seem like there was anything new. All there was was a photo of him with his girlfriend Lisa two weeks ago at an Italian restaurant. He was still pretty small then. After finding nothing on his Twitter, LinkedIn, MySpace, Google+, Reddit, and Tumblr—yes, he had everything—I opened up his Instagram and finally found something. The most recent picture was a bathroom selfie of him with his girlfriend. Both of them were only wrapped in towels, but damn. Marcus had grown since we last met. Not by a crazy amount, but it was something. Everything was filled out more ever so slightly. He still looked how he did three days ago in his black shirt, but he was definitely at least an inch thicker all over. His pecs casted a shadow over his abs. The crevice in between them looked like they could hold a pen or two if he so much as flexed—maybe even break the pen. Not to mention his abs looking like someone stuffed stones under his skin. You could run your fingers through the crevices on his body as if he were the grand canyon. It was exhilarating. I couldn’t see his cock through the towel, but the outline proved its immensity, snaking down to his mid-thigh. He was gaining muscle faster than I would have ever guessed. Judging by his cocky raised eyebrow and wide grin expression, I could tell he was enjoying it too. His girlfriend looked like a troll standing next to this Greek statue. She was hot in her own right, but my eyes couldn’t get off Marcus. His disproportionate dorito-shaped torso was definitely something I’m sure most men envied, especially now with all the added muscle. Fuck, he was hot. I saved the picture on my phone for future reference. If Marcus kept growing, I was going to need some pictures to be able to compare a before and after, then maybe I could estimate just how much he could grow in a period of time. I doubted it was going to end up correct, but it was worth trying. It didn’t seem like Marcus’ growth wasn’t going to slow down any time soon anyway, and a part of me definitely did not want it to stop. That same part of me wanted to be a part of his growth. I wanted to see him grow. Behind me, I heard Froy sigh. “Hello?” I turned around and saw him on his phone. “Sir Marcus?” he asked. “Yes, sir, I just wanted to ask where you kept your, uh, tic-tacs, sir. ... Oh, okay. ... Okay, sir. ... I’ll tell him, sir. ... Thank you, sir. ... Oh, sorry… sir.” He put away his phone. “What did he tell you?” “To stop calling him ‘sir.’” “Besides that. Where are the tic-tacs?” “He said they weren’t here, sir. He said he brought them home with him.” “So, does he want us to come get them?” “No, sir. He said he would give them when he came in to work today.” I looked at Froy in confusion. “Huh? Why? He doesn’t have any work left to do, right?” Froy’s eyes darted side to side in search of what to say. He was just an intern. Expecting him to have an answer to my rhetorical question was just as likely as Marcus admitting he was gay. Before heading back to my desk, I wanted to see if Wes had learned his lesson. I quietly twisted the handle to his door, but it was locked. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t curious to see what he was doing. I wanted to know if he was still drinking his own cum. He might not notice it, for whatever reason, but it was still hot to think about. Especially considering how hot it would be to finally have a big boss who ruled over us—literally over us. Being tall just has a certain power associated with it. Back at my desk, Froy and I went through the usual daily paperwork. I normally hated doing it, but being with Froy made my work much more bearable than it should have been. He was undoubtedly as efficient as a regular employee, if not better, but he was still the same Froy—the same shy, awkward, unnecessarily attractive boy. I didn’t want our relationship to get stuck on work, so I decided to break the ice. “So how’s your mother?” I asked. His eyes lit up in surprise. “Oh, she’s fine, sir. She got discharged from the hospital yesterday, but we’re still working on paying for her bills.” He smiled at me. “Do you think you’re gonna end up working here when you graduate? The salary is definitely better as a full-time employee than an intern.” “I don’t know yet, sir. I’m still thinking about it.” I wasn’t sure if I was making any progress in getting him to accept me and open up. It was difficult to dig any deeper considering he didn’t talk much and never really spoke about his personal life besides his mother and brothers. The boy was a tough cookie. If he had any mental trauma or emotional disorders, I would never know. He could be a psychopath, but I’d probably still find him hot. But the argument still stands that I find most guys hot, so there’s that. When it was time for lunch, I let Froy off by himself to go buy some food. I finished up some documents and left to go route them myself around the office. By the time I got back, Froy still hadn’t returned. It was strange. I knew how early Froy liked to finish his food so he could get back, so him not being at my desk yet was unordinary. I sat myself down and began working on some more work by myself. I didn’t have the luxury of waiting for Froy to get back and do all my work for me like some companies I know and have been under. It went against my principles. Froy was going to learn and be trained well as long as he was under me. That would only happen if he respected me. No one respects a boss who dumps all his work on you. While I was lost in my work, a large hand landed on my shoulder out of nowhere. I turned around, expecting it to be Froy or Wes, but the man standing behind me was huge. He was as tall as Froy but as wide as Wes. Most of the office view was blocked out by his pelvis staring right in my face. I never even noticed his shadow around me as his body blocked out the light behind me. “Hey, bud.” I looked up, and for the second time, I was caught off-guard by his growth. It was Marcus. He looked like a morphed version of himself, wearing an extremely tight white polo in the same style as Wes’. If his arms struggled to fit in the sleeves of his black shirt before, they definitely wouldn’t fit now. They had almost doubled in size. His shoulders were as round as softballs, and his pecs were huge bloated slabs of meat almost as hefty as a woman’s tits with big, thick nipples begging to be sucked. Marcus’ neck was as thick as his head and that was something I found inexplicably sexy. Even with his new developments, he kept his disproportionate broadness and broadened his V-shape even further, bringing it closer and closer to a flat line. It was a miracle he still fit in his shirt. His upper arms were the size of actual footballs. It looked like the slightest inhale would tear off the buttons and cause his pecs to get exposed. He was undeniably bigger than his picture on Instagram. Marcus had grown even more. I looked down and saw that his usual black slacks were skintight, violently constricting his thick legs in the fabric. His package, staring right in my face, bulged as if he had stuck his entire fist in his underwear. Even further down, I saw that the hems of his pants didn’t even reach his ankles anymore. Just how big did he get? “What’s up?” he asked, grinning widely. I rolled my chair back and took in his entire body in my sight. He was huge. This was not the same fitness model-esque Marcus I knew last week. This was gym rat territory. Did he even go to the gym? At all? “Jesus Christ, Marcus!” He tilted his head and rubbed the back of his head, smirking at me as he flexed his bicep in his impossibly tight sleeve. “Jesus, Mary, Hallelujah to you too, Dory!” “What the fuck happened to you?!” “Oh,” he said, gesturing towards the rest of his body. “You mean this?” “No, the fucking Declaration of Independence—yes! This! What is... this!” He laughed, straining the buttons on his chest. “I guess I just grew a bit.” “‘A bit’ is an understatement. It’s only been three days since I last saw you, and now... this.” He walked up closer and leaned against my desk, almost pressing himself against me. “What, don’t you like it?” My heart pounded in my chest. “I, uh, I do, but—” “‘But’? What’s so bad about me having all this muscle?” “Nothing, Marcus. It… looks really good on you.” “‘Really good’?” “Yes.” “Really, really good?” “...Yes.” “Nice, that’s what I like to hear.” He got off my desk and stood back up, adjusting his undersized polo to accommodate his bulging muscles. Everything he did seemed to emphasize his new size—every bulge and curve. I pulled out my phone and stared at the shirtless picture of Marcus I took off Instagram. There was no comparison now. He had almost doubled in size. “Marcus, when’d you take this pic?” I showed him the selfie. He smirked. “I didn’t know you saved pics of me on your phone. How sweet.” I could feel my face turn red. “Please answer the question.” “It was, uh, two days ago.” “...You went from this to this in just two days?” “Yeah. It feels like I get bigger by the minute. It feels fucking amazing. I bet I could flex this arm, and it would grow.” He pulled up his right arm and stared in awe at his bicep with a glowing smile. The sleeve rolled up to his shoulder by itself. It didn’t even need to be pulled back. The sheer mass of his upper arm moved it alone. Marcus grunted, scrunching his nose. I could tell he was in love with himself. He grabbed his sleeve and pulled it back over his bicep, causing it to strain due to the extreme tightness—and yet, the sleeve couldn’t even make a dent in his bicep despite the constriction. “Watch.” He began flexing his arm, lowering it and raising his forearm, causing his bicep to peak and stretch. Every vein and striation pulsed with strength. He continued flexing, showing off his incredible mass to the entire office. As he got lost in his own size, I noticed something in his arm. It was small, but it was still noticeable. His entire arm seemed to inflate ever so slightly, causing his sleeve to begin tearing. Marcus sniggered seeing this. He continued flexing until his bicep grew big enough to tear his sleeve halfway open, leaving his bicep completely exposed. He laughed with wide eyes, grinning from cheek to cheek. The excitement on his face said everything. “Fuck, do you see this? Did you see that?!” he asked. I was speechless. “I really am growing by the second!” He continued flexing his arm and didn’t notice that his other arm had also begun to grow. As soon as the other sleeve tore open, his smile grew even bigger. He raised both arms and flexed, reveling in his new size. I was lost in my awe when I heard a shuffle behind Marcus. I didn’t know who it was. When Marcus finally noticed that there was someone standing behind him, he stepped aside and revealed it was Froy, staring at him with his mouth slightly ajar. Froy was frozen in place, just as mesmerized as I was. I didn’t even notice his lithe figure standing behind Marcus. “Oh, hey, Froy! I was wondering where Dory’s little puppy was.” “He’s not my puppy.” Froy’s mouth quaked, trying to find the words to say. “Uh, hi, sir.” “What did I tell you?” “Not to call you ‘sir,’ sir.” Marcus looked at me in annoyance. “Was he always like this?” “Yes. You just never noticed since you only learned his name a few days ago.” “Eh, it’s fine,” he said. “So, uh, Froy, I‘m heading to the gym in a bit to start working out. I just came to pick up my pre-workout shit and drop off the pills I made. Do you wanna come yet, or does Dory have to housebreak you a bit more?” Froy began to sweat, unsure of what the correct answer was. Marcus rolled his eyes. “Ugh, nevermind. I’ll go by myself,” he said. “So why’d you want my tic-tac pills anyway? Were you gonna put them in the water dispenser?” His eyes twinkled. “No! They’re just for, uh, recreational purposes.” “Erectile dysfunction?” “No.” “Porn?” “No.” “Bukkake?” “...N-No.” Marcus squinted at me. I could tell he was judging me even though I hadn’t said anything. “Fine,” he said. He pulled out the small orange box of tic-tacs from his incredibly tight pocket and handed them over to me. “Here. Don’t waste them, okay? I don’t have the recipe, so I can’t make more. I wasn’t expecting them to actually do anything in the first place.” “It’s fine. I’m a Chem major. I’ll figure it out if I need to.” Marcus grinned and gave me a noogie on the head. “Yeah, there’s our resident genius.” “Oh, and what’s with the viagra we found on your desk? Are you sure you’re not the one with an erection problem?” I asked. Marcus grabbed his junk and jiggled it in his hands, showcasing its heft and weight. “You think I have any problems getting this big boy up? I’d prove you wrong in a second, but I don’t think these pants are gonna last much longer. I’m getting too big.” I felt a stir in my own pants. “Anyway, do you have it? I’m in a hurry, so I can’t stay long or say hi to Wes.” Both of us had forgotten Froy was still standing meekly behind Marcus. Froy stepped forward and pulled the pill from his pocket. He handed it to Marcus who patted his head, messing up Froy’s spiky waxed-up hair. “Yeah, there we go. Thanks a lot!” It was during their exchange that I noticed something off. Froy had been hunched over this whole time, so I didn’t suspect anything at first, but now he was standing at full height, and… he was eye-level with Marcus. Froy and Marcus were now both 6’1”. I don’t even think Marcus noticed yet. “Marcus…” “Yeah?” “You’re as tall as Froy.” “What?” He stared at Froy and realized they were eye to eye. His face lit up in ecstasy. “Holy shit! I am! I swear this kid was two inches taller than me before. Weren’t you like 6’1”?! Did I get taller too?” He raised his hand and began measuring the tops of their heads, confirming that they were both definitely equal height. “Fuck! I did I get taller. I’m getting bigger all over!” Marcus and Froy may have been the same height, but Marcus held a considerable size difference in terms of muscle mass. Froy was still a bit of a twunk. Marcus looked like he’d been going to the gym for years. It was no contest. The width of Marcus’ torso easily surpassed, nearly even doubled, Froy’s. For anyone at that height, it would normally be pretty difficult to build up any noticeable gains, but Marcus never even worked up a sweat in the past week outside sex. He bounced in place in his excitement, giggling like a child. I could understand why he was so excited. His sleeves flapped in the wind as he jumped. There was no containing him. Out of nowhere, the buttons holding in his pecs popped off, revealing his incredibly bloated chest. They looked as filled with gas as balloons, and yet, they were clearly hard as rock. Did he grow even more? I never even noticed. It wouldn’t be long until his abs popped the buttons off as well, leaving him shirtless. Marcus has never looked hotter than he was at this exact moment—sleeves torn open, chest popping out, muscles grown, and as tall as a model. “This is so fucking awesome, guys. You have no idea how fucking great this feels. Imagine if I grew this much in college! I would’ve stayed a model. Fuck that stupid 6’ height requirement. Just look at me now! Now, I’m a big Marcus!” He put up a confident double-bi. “Aren’t you scared of growing so much?” I asked. “What if you get too big?” “Fuck, no! There’s no such thing as too big. I never want this to stop. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my life!” As Marcus fixed his hair, his phone rang. “Ah, alright, I think I’ve gotta go. It’s probably my trainer calling,” he said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?” “Wait, what about your pre-workout?” “Froy already gave it to me.” “The random viagra pill we found was your ‘pre-workout shit’?” “Well, yeah. In the gym, it’s what I like to call ‘establishing dominance.’” He air-quoted with his fingers. With that, he was off. His muscled wall of a torso took up so much space as he swaggered out of the office. It wouldn’t be long until he wouldn’t even fit through the glass door anymore. It was a scary thought—but an arousing one, nonetheless. I was left alone with Froy again, and he seemed to be just as aroused as I was, if not more. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he started drooling. “Are you still conscious?” I asked. He looked at me and smiled, showing off his cute little dimples. “Ah, yes, sir. Sorry, sir, I, uh, got distracted.” “Don’t worry. So did I,” I said. “You think Marcus is hot?” A look of surprise grew on his face. His mouth shrunk and beads of sweat formed on his hairline. “Uh… yes, sir?” “Really? Is he your type?” “He’s more of an older brother to me.” “What about Wes?” “He’s good-looking too, sir. A bit short though.” I had competition. “So who do you think’s most attractive?” He froze. “Uh…” “Come on, it’s just for fun. You won’t hurt my feelings.” I wasn’t expecting an answer I wanted to hear. Then he spoke, and my heart stopped. “I think it’s you, sir.” “...Me?” “Yes, sir.” “Why? Don’t you think Marcus or Wes are better looking than I am?” “Well, they are…” Ouch. “But Sir Marcus is more of an older brother, and Sir Wes scares me a bit. I like you the most, sir.” “So you’re not just into looks?” “No, sir.” I already knew he thought I was cute from a few days ago, but now I knew he liked me more than the hottest guys in the office. I was living a dream come true. As we looked longingly into each other’s eyes, a bleak thought re-entered my brain and snapped me back to reality: his brothers. But what was I supposed to do? I was so close to getting in his pants. As I reached out to rest my hand on his thigh, his eyes grew wide. He smiled at me and leaned back, resting his arms on the armrests and allowing me free reign over him. Just as my hand tickled the surface of his leg, my phone rang deafeningly throughout the silence of the office. We both panicked, stunned by the rude return to reality. We tidied ourselves up as I stood up to answer the call further away from my desk in case Froy overheard anything he didn’t need to. “Hello?” I asked. “Hey, it’s Wes. I need to talk to someone about this, uh, problem of mine. You know what I mean. Is it alright if you came to my office? Like, now?” It sounded like there was fear in his voice. “Oh, sure, sir. I’ll be right there.” I told Froy I was called to Wes’ office to handle some business. Neither of us said any more. Froy sat back up in his chair and brought himself up to my desk to continue working on whatever documents and memos he had been working on in the morning before he disappeared for lunch. He smiled at me meekly and focused back on the screen. I walked through the office on the way to Wes’ office expecting the worst. He hadn’t contacted me at all throughout the weekend, so I had no idea what he had done or what happened to him. I was worried about him. The last time I saw him was the Friday before the weekend, and that same day, he spent the entire time masturbating in his office and mindlessly drinking his cum. What if he spent his entire weekend locked in his room drinking his own cum? Did his wife or kids not notice anything strange? Did no one notice the new inch in height? Did literally no one notice the strange craving for cum? No? Just me? I knocked on the door, praying silently that Wes was okay. Inside, I could hear Wes bumping into his table and generally just making a whole bunch of noise inside. It took him a while to settle things down before his footsteps finally approached the door. Then, I heard his hand grab onto the handle. He unlocked it, and the door swung open. “Come in, quick.” Standing in front of me was something I wasn’t expecting. Wes was... taller than me—an inch, at least. He had grown. His muscles had bloated up even further, nearly hitting the sides of the doorframe. His shoulders were nearly breaking through his polo shirt. As he stepped forward, his spherical pecs that were so inhumanely gigantic nearly bumped into my chest from where he was standing. He could barely even close his shirt anymore, especially over his baby gut. The top three buttons had already popped off. He grabbed my forearm with a grip so Herculean that it felt like my hand was getting pulped. I was pulled inside in an instant. As the door closed, I was pressed up against his hard body. Every stone-hard curve and mound on his muscle-bound body slammed against my soft body. He was like a boulder, an incredibly muscled-up marble statue. He still had some fat on him, but even then, every muscle could still be felt shifting and flexing underneath as if it were just a layer of skin. The door locked, and the lights switched on. I was in disbelief. He definitely grew, just like Marcus did. He swaggered back to his table where he sat on the desk, causing it to tremble under his weight. He leaned forward, causing his arms to swell in his sleeves, getting dangerously close to bursting out of his shirt. There wasn’t a massive bottle of lube on his desk, but there were definitely stains from what I could only assume was once a vast puddle of lube spilled all over the table. He looked at me and sighed, absent-mindedly flexing his biceps in his shirt. “You’ve gotta help me, Dory. I can’t take it anymore.” I walked up to him and couldn’t help but get overwhelmed at the intense smell of fresh cum wafting in the air around his desk. It was intoxicatingly disgusting. If I took a step back I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a cloud surrounding this table. “I noticed. You got even bigger.” “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Dory. I’ve always been this big.” “How can you still act like nothing’s happening to you? You’ve grown like 50 pounds of muscle and 2 inches taller already. What did that meteor do to your head?” “I already told you it didn’t do anything to me. Why won’t you believe me? I haven’t gotten any taller, I’ve always been 5’9”.” …5’9”? “I’m pretty sure it did something to you, Wes. I have no reason to lie to you. You are the only one who actually swallowed any of that shit, so I’ve been thinking that whatever it was messed with your brain.” “I-I can’t believe that. Why are you even bringing that up? I didn’t ask you to come here to tell me I’m delusional.” Again, no point. “So why did you call me?” He clenched his teeth and played with his fingers. “I wanted to know if you got the tic-tacs.” Man, I did. The question was: did I want to give them to him? “Yeah, I did.” I pulled the small box out of my pocket, being reminded of my encounter with Marcus. He eyed them in my hand with such an eagerness that it almost didn’t seem human. It was animalistic. He smiled nervously, shifting his eyes between me and the box. “Mind if I… uh… had one?” “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to be, uh, enabling this problem of yours.” “Come on, I’m your boss. You have to do what I say, right? If you don’t wanna give me one, then you take it.” “What’s the point in me taking it?” “I’ll suck you off if that’s what you want. I won’t have to clean up, and you get your dick sucked. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a win-win.” “Wes, you have a wife and two kids. If your wife finds out—” “She won’t, though. Right?” Wes stood up and stood in front of me, blocking my view with his width. He loomed over me, exhaling through his nose, as he planted a hand on my shoulder and another on his waist. I couldn’t move. His grip had increased tenfold since we last met, and I was sure he was intending to crush my shoulder in his hand. He thrusted his pelvis closer to me, sticking his bulge dangerously close to my face. I could see that the zipper barely hit the top. Wes smiled at me and giggled. He reached down and pulled out the box from my hand. I couldn’t stop him. I was frozen in fear of the moment. My boss was advancing onto his employee, and I definitely could get him fired in an instant. Did I want to, though? It didn’t seem like there was anything wrong with this arrangement. He took out a pill from the box and stored the rest away in his drawer. The pill was the same dusty white it had been that night when we pulled over at what was once the clearing. I was in suspense. “Here, take it.” He presented the pill to my face in between his meaty fingers. “Should I?” “Come on, do your boss a little favor. It’ll look good on your paycheck.” He pressed them against my lips, urging me to take it. So, I did. I opened my mouth ever so slightly, and he shoved the pill straight in with no hesitation. I felt nothing at first. For the first few seconds, it didn’t seem like the pill really worked. Maybe it was just a fluke the first time or maybe it only worked on Wes. Then it hit me—not a thought, but in my stomach. I felt it churning inside me, a strange bubbling force deep in my gut. Just as fast as it began, it moved down from my stomach into my lower regions, somewhere I never normally felt anything from inside. It was in my balls. “Okay, this doesn’t feel normal, Wes.” “It gets better.” He knelt down on his knees and planted his elbows into my thighs as he unbuttoned my pants. Wes’ body was impossibly heavy despite being only two inches taller than me. The density of his muscles weighing down on me was insane. He looked in my eyes and grinned. In my balls, I could feel the strangest sensation, as if something were building up inside me, flooding and rushing inside me. My cock slowly began to rise up in my underwear too. I wasn’t as hung as Wes or Marcus, being only a decent 5-incher, but it was something I was never ashamed of. It got the job done. Now here it was, getting the job done for the boss yet again. My underwear grew tight from what I could only assume were my growing balls. There was no doubt that my balls were churning out cum faster than they ever should have been able to. Wes reached into my underwear and pulled out my cock in one swift tug. My swollen balls followed, and in an instant, my genitals were completely exposed and less than a foot away from the face of the man in charge of my paycheck. He grabbed my cock with his tight grip and pulled it towards him. “Cum for me, Dory.” In that moment, as if by command, the churning in my balls rushed into the base of my cock and began filling out the shaft like a cannon. It filled my cock in an instant. I had to use every bit of my willpower to keep it in and not blast it out on his face without warning. Those kegels were finally coming in handy. “Here we go,” he said. He could tell it was coming, so he leaned over, showcasing his muscled back, appearing like a mountain range, and wrapped his mouth around the head of my cock. His tongue made sure I was well-pleasured. I was getting close—dangerously close. With every second that passed, the more cum filled my cock, and the harder it was to build it up. With one aggressive stroke of his tongue on my head, I let go. The cum flooded out of my cock like a stream of bullets. I could see Wes visibly struggling to swallow as fast as it came in, grappling onto my thighs and grunting, audibly gulping every passing moment. By the time I was emptied and he pulled out, his mouth was still full of my cum. There was so much of it. It was a miracle none of it had spilled on the floor. He swallowed up the rest of it in his mouth and planted his tongue back on my cock, suckling on it like a babe to his mother, cleaning up the excess that spilled onto me. “Fuck, that was good,” he said. “That was a lot more than I’ve ever had before.” He wiped his face clean and licked his hand. I watched him stand up to full height, fixing up his shirt and rubbing off the wrinkles. “So are we done here?” I asked. “Yeah, Dory, you can go. Sorry if I took up your time.” “Nah, it’s no problem. Froy can do my job just as well as I can.” “Maybe I should give him your job instead?” He laughed. He could see my face freeze in fear, causing him to retract his statement. I got up from my seat as Wes accompanied me to the door, taking as much time as I could, not wanting to leave without seeing what might happen to Wes in the next few moments if anything. This was my only chance to prove my theory. As I stood by the door, I grabbed the door handle and took one last look at Wes, standing menacingly in front of me with his arms crossed across his chest. He seemed completely unbothered—and unchanged. Just like the pill, I almost thought nothing was going to happen, then suddenly I heard a tear. A part of his shirt had just ripped open at the back. “What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?” he asked. I couldn’t see anything from where I stood, so I leaned against the door to really take in the entirety of Wes. Then I could see it. I was witnessing him grow right in front of me. It didn’t seem like he noticed anything either. His already incredibly meaty torso began throbbing in certain muscles. Every pulse seemed to grow with intensity. After his body settled down, his body started to visibly expand in every direction. With every breath, his pecs retained a fraction of the growth, further pushing and stressing against his short, causing the button strands to tear. He stretched out his shoulders, causing his shirt to pull upwards. His already globulous shoulders surged outwards, demanding more and more of his already struggling shirt to cover him up. “Why are you just standing there like that, Dory? Aren’t you—ungh—gonna head back?” As his shirt tore around his lats and sleeves, his already-muscular legs popped open his zipper and pants, exposing his gigantic member poking through his obscenely tight briefs. The pants didn’t even reach his ankles anymore, riding up his calves. He stood in place, and yet his body continued to inch closer and closer to mine, confining me and cornering me against the door, limiting me against his growing body. He still didn’t seem to notice. “Dory?” He raised up a massive arm and scratched the back of his head, tearing off the rest of his shirt, dragging off the rags off his bloated chest. I had to look up over two inches now. He definitely grew at least another inch or two, 5’10” maybe, but now he was more of a tank than ever before. I could have held my hands in front of me and been able to grope the massive, bulbous sacs of muscle on his chest with no difficulty. There was definitely enough muscle in his pecs to fit three people. His arms weren’t as thick as my legs yet, but they were definitely getting there. Every bulge and curve on his body was defined and rounded to perfection. There were nearly no flat areas on his muscled-up body. It didn’t look like he could fit through the doorframe anymore with how massive his body was now. He was definitely as tall as Marcus used to be at this point: 5’11”. Only now, he was twice, if not thrice, as muscular. It was insane. It was incredible. I wanted to see more. His entire body was covered in rags, dangling onto his obscene body by the thinnest strips of fabric. He was as large as most bodybuilders now. The only real difference was his gut, but even that had flattened now, semi-revealing his abs underneath a thick layer of fat. My eyes couldn’t leave his body. “Wes… haven’t you noticed anything? Literally anything?” He tilted his head. “What are you talking about? What’s there to notice?” He scratched his nose. “There really is something on my face, isn’t there…” “No, Wes… did you really not just see yourself grow?” “Huh?” “You literally just grew bigger right in front of me! Your clothes are in fucking rags!” He looked down and saw his clothes were torn apart. “Oh, shit! My clothes broke. This is worse than last time.” “Wes, what the fuck? You still don’t think you’re growing every time you drink cum?” “No, but that sounds great! I’d love to have that.” I was speechless. Why couldn’t I get him to realize the truth? If he kept mindlessly drinking his own cum, who knows how big he would get. There would be no limit. The bigger he gets, the more cum there would be for him to drink. The cycle would never end. He stepped back and pulled off the rest of the rags off his Goliath body, leaving him in nothing but an undersized pair of briefs, displaying his fat cock through the sheerness of the cotton. His body was immense. What happened to the short and stout boss I worked for? The small tank was outgrowing himself. He was exceeding the tank status, growing bigger while still keeping his same stout proportions as he became taller. “You don’t have any problems doing this every day, right? It’d be really great if you helped me with this addiction of mine.” Fuck me. “But you can’t keep growing like this—” “Why do you keep insisting that? Do I look any different to you?” “Extremely, yes. Maybe I have to bring you to a doctor or therapist or something. How’s your head, Wes?” He smiled and winked. “Haven’t had any complaints.” I groaned as I left his office. As I headed back to my desk, it almost felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. There was no way everyone knew what just happened. Maybe I was just being paranoid. My phone rang in my pocket, so I pulled it out and read the text. It was from Marcus. “Hey, Dor. Come to the gym down the road. I’m 6’2” now.”
  3. 8 points
    Author's Note: here's another out of the archives -- this one from 2014 as well. A DIFFERENT FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH by Absman420 The texts began shortly before midnight, the buzz of his phone on the nightstand waking him, even in "sleep" mode. At first the old bodybuilder shrugged it off -- he had a fairly good idea who it was and what they wanted -- and they weren't ripe enough yet, anyway -- but when the dull banging began on the front door, he knew he could ignore it no longer. Dressed in only his flannel pajama bottoms -- cut off at the knee to expose his gigantic calves (he hadn't worn pants in over twenty-five years, he bragged) -- he walked down the carpeted stairs to the front door, his stark white hair almost glowing in the darkness. He was a large man. Even in the streams of moonlight coming through the curtains, it was easy to make out his imposing shape. He'd been a weight-lifter most of his life and carried a certain kind of thickness only sported by men who'd spent decades pounding iron -- and carried HIMSELF with the confidence of a man who'd had a superior body for decades. He'd be damned if he'd ruin that by getting old. When he suddenly turned on the outside light, the pounding abruptly stopped. "Who's there?" he growled at the door, even though he knew perfectly well who it was. "Daddy?" A weak, desperate sound. "Please. I can't stand it anymore. Please… they HURT!" The old bodybuilder opened the door, revealing the figure of a lean, young man bathed in the soft glow of the porch light. The boy was maybe 5'8"/ 5'9" about 160lbs, lean in a way that was characteristic of swimmers or long-distance runners, athletic but skinny. Somewhere in his early twenties, he probably shaved once a week, his tight, flawless skin making him look even younger. A tousle of ordinary brown hair that looked slept-on wrong topped a face that was less handsome than pretty. Sure, maybe someday it would mature into handsome, but right now it was the fresh-face of youth. Only his eyes had any fire, bright green and lively. He was dressed in sweat pants, flip flops and a tank top that exposed his lean arms -- he had an air of desperation about him. "Thank God," he said when the old bodybuilder opened the door. "I'm so sorry. I know you said to wait, but I can't stand it anymore! I can't stand it!" He collapsed on the old bodybuilder, hugging the old man's muscular torso, laying his head on the bodybuilder's massive pec. Sobbing, desperate. "I'm so sorry, Daddy! I tried to wait… but they HURT!" The old bodybuilder held the boy and stroked his head while he wept. Finally, he shut the front door and said, "It's okay, boy. The first time can be scary. C'mon inside and let's see what's going on." The boy allowed himself to be led to the living room. He babbled. "I mean, I've been horny as fuck, but I can't cum. I CAN'T CUM! It's driving me fucking crazy. I stroke and stroke… almost… almost… but it doesn't fucking happen. THEY HURT SO FUCKING MUCH!" "Lemme see," the old bodybuilder said, sitting on the hassock before the boy. "When was the last time you saw them?" the boy asked, hands on the waist of his sweatpants. "Three... four days ago? You complimented me on them…" The old bodybuilder smiled. "You have beautiful balls," he said. "Golden eggs!" "Well, they're a little bigger than that now," the boy said, lowering the sweats. Instead of his normal boxer shorts, the boy wore a runner's jock, the thin waist strap low on the pubis, barely atop the root of his cock. The pouch itself was stretched nearly to the point of giving way, stuffed full of the boy's swollen, avocado-sized balls. Between the pull of his nads and the squeeze of the pouch, the boy's cock was nearly hard, ready to bust its way out of the cotton fabric any second. "LOOK at them!" The old bodybuilder did look, and he couldn't help but lick his lips -- they were huge. "What's happening to me?" the boy asked. The old bodybuilder ignored him. "Beautiful," he mumbled, gently cupping the boy's sac in his hand, weighing it almost -- the boy gasped. "You sure you wanna cum? I think you could grow these a little more…" The boy may not've liked the idea, but his cock did -- it throbbed a bit in its cotton prison. "Aw, fuck no!" the boy moaned. "You don't understand. They ACHE… Please..." When the old bodybuilder rubbed the over-sized sac with his hand, the boy moaned loudly -- his cock got even harder, straining down the front of the pouch, the head clearly visible through the stretched fibers of the material. Holding the boy's balls in his hand, the old bodybuilder licked the material covering the boy's cock, soaking it in his spit. "Oh…. Daddy," the boy whimpered. "Please…" Guiding him by the hips, the old bodybuilder sat the boy on the hassock, sliding himself to his knees on the floor between the boy's legs. Slipping a couple of thick fingers beneath the band of the boy's jockstrap, the old bodybuilder released the boy's cock, but left his nads trapped in the pouch -- the elastic of the waistband slid up under the base of the boy's erection, tickling him. The boy's cock was significantly bigger than the last time the old bodybuilder had seen it, as well -- the boy probably hadn't realized it because his balls were so freakishly out of proportion. Their firmness and swollen fresh pinkness made them irresistible. The boy's cock stood nearly nine inches straight up, a tiny line of pre-cum stringing down to the root -- the old bodybuilder licked that up pretty quickly. Ambrosia. When he took the boy's cock in his mouth, just the flared head, he tasted another release of pre -- delicious, teasing. He played with the head for another few moments, hoping for more, then finally took the whole of the boy's cock in his mouth, burying his nose in the boy's neatly trimmed pubes. The boy grabbed either side of the hassock and leaned back, his abs catching the light from above them, highlighting his skinny-boy eight pack. His breath was already hitching, and the old bodybuilder wondered if the boy would even last ten minutes -- probably not. He'd clearly never gotten head before, not from the way he was reacting. The possibility of a virgin turned the old bodybuilder on even more and he set to work in earnest, bobbing his head up and down the boy's shaft squeaky smooth, making sure his thick white mustache tickled the boy, too -- the boy was a bubbling brook of pre-cum. The old bodybuilder would be sucking the flavor out of his white whiskers for days. Deftly, he pulled the jockstrap down and released the boy's smooth, swollen balls, cupping them in one hand until he'd pulled the strap completely off, then holding them reverently in both, stroking them and and gently pulling them down in counter-rhythm to his mouth. They were massive -- did he say avocados? Maybe he meant mangos… The boy was trying to find a balancing place between pain and pleasure -- he didn't know what to do with his hands, so he kept holding the hassock, although he'd felt an urge to pinch his own nipple. He didn't know why. The old bodybuilder rolled the boy's gigantic balls back and forth, then began running one hand up and down the back of them while the other cupped their base. He settled the moving hand at the top of the boy's sac, ran fingers up either side of the boy's taint, then began playing with the boy's tight hole, all the while sucking the boy's rock hard cock. The boy was panting now, thrusting his hips into the old bodybuilder's face. On the edge again, ready, so, so ready to blow his load. The old bodybuilder knew this and slipped his thick middle finger into the boy's hole, quickly finding the boy's prostate and pressing that button for all its worth. The boy released the sides of the hassock, grabbing the old bodybuilder's head and began to orgasm, pushing his cock deep into the old bodybuilder's throat. He didn't just moan -- he screamed. The old bodybuilder had tasted plenty of the boy's pre, but was surprised by the volume -- even HE didn't expect the boy to pack such a punch. Each of the boy's squirts nearly filled his mouth -- he had to time his swallows to match the boy's ejaculations. The boy came. And came. His orgasm lasted nearly two minutes, the most incredible, mind-blowing thing he'd ever felt. And the old bodybuilder swallowed it all, every drop, until his own belly was distended from the creamy ambrosia. But whether the old bodybuilder came or not, the boy didn't know -- he was so exhausted, he could barely focus. He passed out as his boy-cock still dribbled some remaining drops -- but don't worry, the old bodybuilder got those, too. When the boy finally awoke, the first thing he realized was that the sun was up -- it was morning. It must be hours later. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed. The next thing he realized was that his balls didn't ache anymore. Not at all. As a matter of fact, they felt totally normal. When he touched them, he found them more sensitive than they'd been -- but at least they were back to normal size. His cock, on the other hand, was definitely bigger than it had been. How about that -- the old bodybuilder had told him the truth… His rumination -- and masturbation -- was interrupted by the bedroom door opening. The boy pulled his hands away from his genitals, like he'd been caught doing something bad. "Good morning!" the bodybuilder in the doorway said, but it wasn't the man the boy remembered. The boy was sure the bodybuilder's hair had been stark white, with a matching white mustache -- but this man had hair that could only be described as "salt & pepper", even his mustache was mostly black. Something was different about his skin, too -- it was… tighter. It was the same guy, obviously the same guy, but he looked different. Younger. The boy didn't know why he'd described the guy as an old bodybuilder, when clearly, in the light of day, he was middle-aged -- maybe 45 on the out side. His eyes sparkled with mischief. "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice not quite as rough. "Really great, thank you." The boy smiled, softly rubbing his balls. "You weren't kidding about how powerful that would be. Wow." "Yeah?" the big man said, flexing his pecs. "You wanna go again?" The boy laughed, embarrassed. "I don't if I can go again right now…" he said, although his cock kind of liked the idea. The middle-aged bodybuilder chuckled. "No, I mean the peptides. Do you wanna do the injection again?" The boy realized what he meant, and self-consciously cupped his ball sac. "Will it… Will it feel like it did last night?" "Better if you let it… brew longer." The boy smiled -- he didn't even hesitate. "Let's do it." And that's how he found himself in the bodybuilder's kitchen, bent over the center island, as the middle-aged bodybuilder pulled a small vial from his refrigerator and filled the tiniest of insulin syringes. The boy knew from experience it wouldn't hurt, so when he felt the bodybuilder pinch the back of his balls, he got an erection right as the tip of the needle entered his sac. In a second, it was over. The boy slid his sweatpants on, stuffing the well-stretched jockstrap in his pocket. He could already feel the peptide working -- churning in his nuts. Damn, it felt good. The middle-aged bodybuilder smiled, his (mostly) black mustache contrasting his white teeth. "Let's see if you can go longer than three days this time," he said playfully, throwing one big arm around the boy's shoulders. They laughed and kissed awkwardly at the door, like friends, then the boy went his merry way. "I don't want to see you for at least a week," the bodybuilder said. "Seriously. You can do it." The boy blew him a silly kiss from his car. That evening, just after the bodybuilder had finished his workout and was thinking about something to eat, there came a dull pounding on his front door. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ginger boy, no more than eighteen, built like a wrestler or gymnast, big arms and no waist. He wore underarmor compression shorts which were stretched to the limit by his gigantic balls. It took both his hands to support their weight -- crazy unreal. "Ok, Coach" the ginger boy said, panting. "It's been two weeks. A record, you said. Now you gotta get me off. Please, they hurt so much -- they ACHE." The bodybuilder smiled, inadvertently licking his dark mustache. "You picked a good time," he said, drawing the boy inside, "I just finished working out and I'm STARVING…" He shut the door behind them. END
  4. 3 points
    From across the street Javier could see the big elder Hank sitting in the restaurant at a table by the front window. Even from this distance it was obvious the guy was huge. Javier could see that the senior muscleman had chosen to wear a white button down that had its buttons undone almost all the way down to his navel. This made his delicious, firm, mega-pecs visible without the aid of binoculars or any other enhanced glassware. The guy’s monstrous chest poked out so far Javier was pretty sure he could have slid his hand into the gaping chasm between the guy’s stomach and the shirt’s material without any problem. Hank probably couldn’t have buttoned the shirt even if he had wanted to. From this distance it was also obvious that the elder man’s biceps were about to burst through the sleeves. The strained cloth was stretched like tight skin. Javier didn’t think it was possible for his cock to get any harder – having thought about nothing all day except this date – but the thing managed to go much more rigid. The young man had to stop for a moment, adjust himself to relieve some of the pain, and then he crossed the street. When he entered the restaurant he had a few seconds to look at Hank without being noticed. Hank was the epitome of muscle daddy-ness. Huge was a word that seemed inadequate if trying to describe the older man. Enormous might be closer . . . or swole, but the plain and simple fact was Hank was the largest man Javier had ever met. The seams of the older man’s shirt looked to be stretched way beyond the bursting point. Javier was confused as to why the shirt didn’t just rip to shreds any time Hank moved. The sleeves of the button down bulged in that way that said, ‘no piece of clothing is going to hide the fact that my biceps are bigger than most men’s waists’ and the traps and shoulders ballooned to the point you would have thought the man was wearing super-sized pads for football. Javier walked slowly to the table and the giant man was up and placing his big hand on the young man’s lower back before a word was spoken. When he stood he dwarfed all the people around him – like Gulliver among the little people. The hand gently, but firmly, led Javier to the chair Hank’s other huge hand had pulled out for him. “Hello gorgeous, let me get your chair for you. I got here twenty minutes early just because I was so excited about being with you. Fuck, boy, you look sexier than an entire college football team bending over nude to grab their ankles. If this weren’t a respectable establishment I’d slam you down on this table and have my way with you right here and right now. Oh shit, sorry dude. It’s probably too soon for me to say something like that, isn’t it. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t I? It’s just that you turn me on so much.” During this entire exchange, Javier had sat down and Hank had basically lifted the chair and the young guy a few inches off the floor to place him back under the table. The big man had picked Javier up as if he had weighed nothing. It was so surreal to be manhandled in such a nonchalant way. It was clear that Hank used his strength and his muscles as easily as most people might flip on a light switch or wave to a friend. Hank also took Javier’s cloth napkin, opened it, and then laid it across the younger man’s lap – making sure the back of his hand brushed hard against Javier’s fully engorged cock. Hank let out an approving grunt-growl that clearly made two ladies sitting nearby get a little wet in their panties and turn dark red with lust. Hank noticed the desire in their eyes, the way both of them bit their lower lip and instantly recognized how smitten they’d become in mere seconds. As he moved back to his table he spoke to them. “Sorry ladies, this big muscle daddy is taken by that chair full of deliciousness right there. Isn’t he beautiful? I wouldn’t even let death, itself, keep me from him.” Javier felt his own face shoot red. Hank’s confidence and openness didn’t bother him – nor did Hank’s masculine way of talking – it was simply because he’d never been referred to as ‘deliciousness’ before and it actually turned him on. When Hank went to sit down, he actually just raised his leg a little and let it come up over the back of the chair – in that ‘I’m too big to do things normally’ kind of way. This simple move elicited a new, exciting feeling somewhere deep inside of Javier. The smaller man understood just how the two women sitting (and still staring) nearby felt – he was completely smitten with the huge Hank, as well. Hank was now sitting down with his napkin draped across his lap. “So, let me get a better look at you, little man. Hell yeah, you’re even more handsome than this afternoon. I haven’t stopped thinking about you for a second, beautiful Javster. I was so worked up I thought about provoking a fight with some biker gang to work off a little steam, but I just unloaded about fifty bags of sand at the site by myself to get my body calm.” “Did that work, Hank?” “For about thirty minutes and then I was all hot and bothered again. Kind of like I’m feeling right now. Damn, boy, that face of yours could launch a hell of a lot more ships than that dame from Troy. You are one good looking dude.” “And you are one freaking huge, handsome dude, yourself, Hank.” “I guess you can see I’m not a big fan of buttons. I figure if you’re this huge why hide it, right? Besides, I love it when I catch people’s gaze glued to my giant chest just like yours is right now, Javier.” “Um . . . sorry about that, Hank.” “Why, son? What other reason is there to be this huge if it’s not to show off.” “I couldn’t agree more. Tell me about yourself, Hank.” “Well, I’m a freakishly massive grampa – having sired eight children with a lovely woman that passed away about ten years ago. I got married young, cause that’s what you did back then, but I always knew women weren’t my thing. I liked young bucks who were tight and small. I waited the appropriate amount of time after Sophia died, came out proudly to my children, and then started plucking gorgeous boys from the bars - literally, carrying them home, and making up for lost time. I’ve sowed my wild oats a few times over, kid, and now I like to romance cute things for weeks or months, driving them crazy with so much muscle foreplay that by the time we actually get in bed together their entire body had turned purple from the teasing and edging. The only thing I’m better at than sex is working out . . . oh, and business. I scare people at the gym when I lift, cause I’m so powerful and aggressive. Nobody expects a man as old as me to be so strong and big. I’m confident as shit, but I try not to be cocky.” “I like cocky, Hank. I, um, think a man as big as you can’t help but be cocky. And a man . . . uh, as handsome.” “My salt and pepper hair gets your pants swelling, does it, Jav?” “Yes sir, and a little wet.” “Then I bet the white dusting across my mammoth hard pecs is making your toes curl, isn’t it.” “Yes.” And then, to intensify the situation even more, Hank leaned back, raised his monstrous arms, linked his hands behind his head, which caused his shirt to open even more – revealing more of the deep chasm between his hefty mounds and allowing the light from the candle at the center of the table to enhance the silver fur beautifully splayed across his chest. Another woman sitting nearby with her husband let out an uncontrolled appreciative gasp and Javier quickly noticed all eyes on the restaurant were on the handsome man across the table. Two waiters crashed into each other because they were looking at the elder man instead of where they were going. Dishes fell to the ground and this caused Hank to chuckle a little – clearly he was used to this kind of adoration. He quickly lowered his arms before causing any more accidents. The man had gotten the response had had wanted – both from his date and the people surrounding him. There was an intoxicating sparkle in Hank’s eye as he continued to stare at Javier. That warm feeling that had covered he and his friends when they had been in the cave with the golden orb again surrounded the smaller man. “I think we were always destined to meet, little Jav.” “I think so, too, sir.” “It’s as if some magical force has brought us together.” “You have no idea, Hank.” “What’s that?” “Nothing. I just think its fate, that’s all.” “Well, in all my years of bar hopping I haven’t landed on anyone as cute as you, Javier, and I get the feeling I’ve never met anyone so into cured muscle beef. I may be a senior citizen, man, but I’ve got the body and stamina of a huge college football player. My libido is about even with someone that age, too. I’m thinking our next date might be you coming with me to the gym so you could watch me work out.” “Oh god, yes.” “Tomorrow, I do arms – if that interests you?” “Um . . . that’s my favorite part of a big muscle man.” “Really? Then you’ve probably noticed my twenty-seven inch guns, haven’t you?” “The minute I met you. They’re kind of hard to miss.” “Wait until you see them pumped up and covered in sweat. I can get ‘em as big as mountains.” “I think they’re already that big, sir.” “I’m really glad you’re an arm man, Javier, cause that’s my favorite part of my body to show off. Well, that and my chest. But you probably have already figured that out. Why don’t you reach over here and get a good feel of my mountain, Javy-boy.” “I don’t think that’s a very good idea . . . right here in the middle of the restaurant.” “Why not? No one’s gonna say anything. Hell, you’d be getting to do what everyone else in here wants to do. Come on, kid, let me show you what a real muscle daddy feels like.” Hank’s meaty hand swallowed Javier’s smaller hand resting on the table. He squeezed a little and then tugged the smaller man’s hand, arm, and body toward his side of the table. Hank smashed Javier’s hand against the biceps and then squeezed tightly. Javier immediately noticed that his hand was puny compared to the giant mound beneath it – but it was also puny compared to the big mitt holding it in place. Hardness was the only message that was getting to the younger man’s brain at that moment. He was baffled at how skin and muscle could feel so freaking much like stone or marble. Hank was squeezing so hard that there was a little pain, but Javier didn’t mind. He loved it. He had always dreamed of a strong muscle daddy squeezing different parts of his body to show off his strength. “It’s so hard.” “Hell yeah, it’s hard, Javier. My dad bought me my first weight set when I was ten years old. That means I’ve been lifting iron for over fifty-five years. That’s a lot of time for breaking down muscle and then re-building it – stronger, thicker, and harder. You’re feeling what hundreds of thousands of hours of cranking out reps can do to a man, especially a man that was already big to begin with and took to weightlifting like a fish in water. I could beat my Pop in arm wrestling by the time I was fourteen. I used to force him to flex his arm beside me when I was in high school just so I could see how much bigger my gun was compared to his - a grown man. I think he secretly loved having a son that was huge. He also liked to make me practice my wrestling moves with him, just so he could feel how strong I was. He loved it most when I would pick up his body and toss him onto the mat. By that point a fully grown man felt as light as a feather to me.” “Um . . . Hank, can I have my hand back. I can’t feel my fingers. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that people are staring.” Hank let out a loud chuckle and then looked around, grinning teasingly at the other patrons. He applied a little more manly pressure to his grip, which caused Javier to exhale loudly, and then the big man removed his huge paw from the little hand beneath. The younger man didn’t remove his aching palm and fingers immediately; he wanted to get one last memorable grope of the unyielding mound of rock-hard muscle beneath. When he did finally remove his hand he shook it out a few times before laying it in his lap. “Hope I didn’t squeeze too hard, little fella. I sometimes forget that everyone else is not as big and strong as I am.” “No . . . no, it’s fine. I . . . um . . . actually like it when a big man uses a powerful grip with me. I . . . uh . . . like a guy to remind me how strong he is. I hope I’m not over sharing. Maybe this is too much information for a first date. “Hell no, Javier, that’s not over sharing! That’s the kind of information this old man loves to hear. It’s first date conversation when you’re with a man like me. I like a guy that appreciates and desires a little pain. I hate having to be so delicate with some guys. One of my sure ways of knowing a guy is worth dating is when he says he likes bear hugs, getting his head squeezed by a biceps and forearm, and being trapped between two huge thighs. How do those sound to you, baby doll?” “It sounds so good that if we don’t steer the conversation in another direction, Hank, there’s going to be a mess under the table.” “Whoa, we can’t have you messing up those cute tight pants you’re wearing, now can we? Let’s look at the menu to get our mind off of all things muscle, shall we?” “That sounds like a good plan.” “We can do some of those more boring first-date questions to help us both calm down a little. So, tell me about your family. Brothers? Sisters?” “Um . . . no, I’m an only child and both my parents passed away a few years ago.” “Sorry to hear that, Javier.” “Thanks. I’ve got a few cousins that I’m kind of close to, but really my family consists of my two best friends from college, Jason and Michael. Michael’s in Atlanta and Jason’s in Los Angeles, but I see them pretty regularly. We’re pretty inseparable.” “Are Jason and Michael as cute as you?” “Oh, much more handsome…” “I don’t think that’s possible.” It was one of those moments when the conversation stopped and the two men stared intently at each other. The chemistry between them was so strong you could have cut it with a knife. Javier’s stomach did flip-flops every time Hank’s huge frame moved in any way – emphasizing his enormous muscle each time. To hear the big man say compliments was like icing on the cake. The smaller man had no idea, however, that the Tank was feeling the same way. The behemoth had already ticked off so many things he usually looked for when debating if there would be a second date, he figured the sexy Javier was destined to be much more than a long-term relationship. The young dude loved muscle, older dudes, a little pain, and groping big bodies. It didn’t get much better than that. “You better watch it, little man, I’m starting to like you. I’m starting to like you a lot.” “Then that makes two of us, big guy.” “Whoa, there, we’re taking the conversation back to something a little too stimulating, if you get my drift. Let’s try some more first-date questions. How did you, Jason, and Michael get so close?” “That’s actually a very funny story – and quite appropriate for tonight. We were all three assigned to the same three-bedroom apartment in college for our freshman year. On our first night of school we had all unpacked, shared a few beers, and then made up excuses to head out separately for the night. About thirty minutes later we all bumped into each other at a bar called ‘Daddy’s Gym.’ Don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it, but it’s pretty popular in D.C. It’s a place where muscle daddies and those that love them go to meet. The three of us had individually been planning for a long time to go there as soon as we hit college. We ended up sitting at the bar and sharing our fantasies about older musclemen and bonding beyond belief. We’ve been family ever since.” “Man, the muscle gods put the three of you in the right place at the right time, didn’t they?” “Kind of like this morning, when I passed your worksite.” “Yeah, just like that. So, how long have you known you loved older muscle?” “It goes back to the man that sent me through puberty – when I was about eleven years old. I probably knew something about myself before then, but it was confirmed in a big way. I had a neighbor that was an amateur bodybuilder and strongman competitor. He was probably in his forties at the time, a bachelor that lived alone in the house beside us. Now I know he was gay, but I didn’t know of such things at the time. My second floor bedroom overlooked his back deck and one day I glanced out and caught him working out. I sat there mesmerized – watching his bulging sweat-covered muscles as he lifted weights, stretched, and then practiced some strength feats. At one point – about thirty minutes into his workout – he started doing some curls to work his biceps. As soon as my hormone-crazy body saw his big arms swell even larger I exploded like the final fireworks display for a Fourth of July celebration. It was such a powerful ejaculation that I actually passed out. I was only gone for a few seconds and when I came back to reality I finished watching my neighbor complete his exercises. That experience turned into a weekly event – since he worked out in his backyard every Saturday. My parents thought it weird that I would want to always be home by 3:30pm on that day, but I convinced them I was studying. And I was – studying my neighbor’s anatomy and learning all about beating off. By the way, years later I bumped into that guy at a gay bar and he told me he had noticed me watching him that first day. He said he loved the attention and figured he was helping me transition into adulthood. We went home together that night – he still lived in the house beside my old one – and we had a great time.“ “Was he still in good shape?” “Compared to you or me? If you, then no – he wasn’t. But compared to me, yeah, he was still big and muscular.” “That’s kind of a hot story, Javier. So, you’ve always been into older men since then?” “Older, yes, but they also had to be big . . . you know, muscular and strong.” “What is it about older musclemen that gets you so excited, Jav?” “Oh Hank, I’ve had almost twenty years to figure that out. I have perfected my answer. First, it’s security. Being with a big man helps me to let my guard down. I feel protected, safe, and able to be myself. Second, it’s the power. I know that’s related to the first, but it’s more. It is knowing the dude is powerful, but it’s also about getting to witness . . . and feel that power. That goes hand-in-hand with getting to feel the big muscles, too. And last, it’s the experience that comes with age. I dated a few big guys that were young and they just didn’t know how to please me the same way older dudes do. Younger guys sometimes aren’t confident enough or they don’t care at all about the other person. A man with some years has figured out how to please himself and his partner at the same time. An older guy that has been with numerous partners has learned many things and all that wisdom comes into the bedroom. I need a man that can lead and follow. That’s learned through experience – and doesn’t come naturally to any guy. I should also point out that in the process I have learned how to appreciate and please an elder muscleman, as well.” “Have you now? And how do you do that? What do you think a big guy like me wants?” “Honesty, for starters. A gorgeous huge man in his mid-sixties like you doesn’t want to play games. You’re looking for a guy that tells you what he likes and isn’t afraid to try new things, too. You also want someone that will let you take the lead. You’ve gotten big because you want to be in control. Yes, you can let others lead, at times, but you get turned on the most when you’re directing a younger guy and helping him to experience new things. You’re looking for a guy that will allow you to show off your body and your power at all times. You want him to let you open doors for him, carry his bags when your shopping, and intimidate the shit out of any man that dares to bully him in any way. Your muscles don’t bulge for your own enjoyment. Yes, you can appreciate them and like to look at them, but having a younger dude salivate as your biceps tease the sleeves of your shirt to near ripping is much more fun. I wouldn’t be surprised if you loved muscle worship as much as all the smaller guys that love groping you.” “How did you get into my head, Javier? I’m so jacked right now I’m scared the table is going to rise in the air and give away my excitement. Why aren’t you taken, little man? If you know all of that about big elder dudes, why hasn’t one scooped you up yet?” “Many have tried, Hank, but no one’s been up to the challenge. No one was able to keep up with me for the long haul.” “That sounds like a challenge.” “Take it as you will, sir. I’m feeling things tonight I’ve never felt before, so I’m going ‘all in’ and laying all my cards on the table. I’ve got nothing to lose because already the night has been magical. Feeling your huge gun gave me enough jack-off material for maybe a year, so even if this ends tonight, I’ll have no regrets.” “You’re either the devil or an angel – you know so much about what I like and what I need.” “Maybe I’m a little of both.” Thankfully, the meal was delivered at that moment. Both men were glad to have the rest from all the sexual banter. Little did they know that under the table were two of the hardest boners in the history of the world. Stars were colliding, continents were shifting, and herds of wild animals were stampeding for no reason – that’s what this connection of two souls felt like. Neither man could even begin to comprehend how much the other met his wildest dreams, but they were about to find out. “What do you do, Javier?” “You mean besides older men with huge muscles?” “Yes, I mean for a living.” “I sold a software engineering start-up company about three years ago. I won’t need to work again for the rest of my life, but I still go in each day and help my old company out as a consultant. I like to keep busy. And you do construction.” “Well, that’s how I spend my time between dates with cute young things, but if you really want to know, I own the company – MD Construction.” “Man, I know that company, Hank. Your signs are everywhere. You must be one of the biggest construction outfits in town.” “The biggest. Kind of like my arms.” “What does MD stand for?” “I’ve never told anyone the truth. I’ve always said it was for my two grandfathers Marvin and David, but it’s really the abbreviation for Muscle Daddy Construction. When I started the company forty years ago, I had already turned myself into a huge beast. I knew my goal, however, was to one day be a silver-haired muscled fox that pleased little dudes nightly. You have no idea how freeing it is to tell you that.” “And you have to idea, Hank, how pleased I am to hear it. Now it’s your turn, by the way, why do you like young men so much? You could have anyone you wanted.” “You nailed it earlier, Javier. I want someone I can take care of. I don’t mean I’m looking for a puppy. I want the guy to be independent, self sufficient, and his own man, but I also want him to be able to give control over to me. I want him to allow me to use my huge muscles and my experience to please him. I want every weight I lift to be about becoming more of that elder muscleman he desires. I want to make him feel so safe that all of his dreams are only about me. I want to help him not have a care in the world. I want to please him – sexually, emotionally, intellectually, and even spiritually. I’m a big man, Javier. I want the dude I’m with to know how big I am every second of the day. I want him to rely on my power and my size. You know, for simple things – like moving furniture and opening up stubborn tops to jars – but also for important things, too – like scaring the crap out of anyone that takes advantage of my boy, fulfilling his every need in the bedroom, and giving him a massive body to worship until he’s the happiest guy on the planet. How’s that for an answer.” “Now who’s in whose head! You just described most of the fantasies I’ve ever had from that first day I blasted a load to my hunky elder neighbor. Hank, I know we’ve only known each other for less than twenty-four hours, but I feel like we’ve known each other for a lot longer. And I feel like you really know me. Tell me something that you know will turn me on.” “Okay, let’s see. Oh, I know. At the end of each workday, two or three of my team come and challenge me to a wrestling match. No group has ever beaten me, but after twenty years they’re still taking me on. We move to an open area in the worksite and strip down to just our pants. That was their idea and I think some of them just wanted to feel my uncovered muscles.” “Who wouldn’t want to feel that?” “Exactly. So, they used to charge one at a time and I had a blast either stopping them in their tracks by just letting them run into my chest and abs or I grabbed their bodies and tossed them to the side. That really pissed them off because most guys do not like to go soaring through the air a few feet.” “I must not be like most guys. You can toss me anytime.” “I’ll remember that, Javy. This big man likes to toss little fellas around. Anyway, now the team has gotten smart and they all run at me at the same time. I love this even more because I either let them all jump on me and then wait a few seconds before I shrug them off easily or I grab the first guy that gets to me and I use his body as a weapon, spinning him around to knock the other guys down. We used to wrestle for about thirty minutes, mainly because I wanted them to feel like they were a little bit of a challenge, but now I usually just dispense with all of them in about five to ten minutes. They always get discouraged by how easily I defeat them, but they continue to ask me to wrestle them every day – in hopes that they’ll win. It’s cute how they go home each day like a dog with its tail between its legs, but the next day they’re all positive with confidence that this will be when they beat me.” “You know you’re going to have to let me watch that one day.” “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t asked. Turn about is fair play, Javier, tell me something that will turn me on.” “That’s easy. I’ll squirt like a fountain if you stand in front of a full-length mirror and lift me up and down over your head. Watching you get off on your own strength as you press me up and down will make me explode like you’ve never seen. If you stop mid-press, when your biceps are sticking out to the sides and flex them even higher I get an even bigger thrill.” “Oh. My. God.” “Told you, big man. I’ve got nothing to lose if I tell you the truth about everything. I know what huge musclemen like and I get the feeling I know you better than anyone else, before. Testosterone oozes out of you like a boner-causing cologne. It causes me to go wild – like a cat in heat. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” “Oh, I think I can handle whatever you have to offer, Javier. Your cuteness may make me weak at the knees, but even in my weakest state I’m stronger than most men put together.” “I’m banking on it, Hank.” By this time the two men were eating dessert. The meal had gone quickly, mainly because they were so swept up into each other. Javier was getting a little sad because he knew that soon they would say goodnight and go their separate ways. Hank had made it very clear that he liked to string a guy along for a little while, just to make him get even more excited about their eventual first night of sex. Javier had a feeling that Hank was going to go even slower this time, making sure to edge Javier in ways the little guy had never even dreamed. Hank clearly picked up on Javier’s sadness. “If it helps, know that I’ll beat off thinking about your at least a couple of times tonight.” “That does help, Hank. And I’m sure you know I’ll be doing the same many blocks away.” “Yep, and I’m pretty sure it will be the memory of touching my humongous biceps the first time that will send you over the edge.” “You know me so well. Already. I do have one favor, though.” “Name it, Javier.” “I want a really powerful bear hug outside before we say goodnight.” “How powerful? You wanna have a little backache tomorrow to remember me by or do you wanna have to have me lift you into a cab to take you home and then crawl up the steps to your place. I can control my hugs to your specifications. I promise.” “Let’s give the control to you, Hank. You decide what kind of hug I get.” The check came and Javier instinctively knew not to reach for it. It was important to yield to the big man – especially since he had done the inviting. Hank noticed the young man’s restraint and it impressed him. It was clear that Javier had taken care of himself for many years – especially after his parents had passed away. It was also pretty evident that the young man had a lot of money – his clothes, shoes, and watch screamed wealth, but not in an obnoxious way. Hank’s raging hard-on was twitching even more at the thought of this strong-willed cute man letting him take the lead. “I can make you feel like a prince, Javier.” “You already do, Hank. I can make you feel bigger and stronger than you already do, sir.” “That’s probably not possible, but I understand what you mean.” This comment made Javier smile. By this point the check had been paid, and Hank had pushed back his chair from the table. He stood up and immediately Javier noticed the unusually large outline of the big man’s hard member. It actually made the younger man gulp out loud. This, in turn, made Hank smile. “Being with you is probably going to cause me to get arrested for indecent exposure and I won’t even have to take off any clothes.” Javier stood up. He was immediately aware that Hank was looking down at his crotch – to see what was happening. Hank’s widening eyes and open mouth pleased Javier immensely. Yes, he was a smaller guy than the elder giant, but that didn’t mean he had to be small in all areas. His own super hard meat was thicker and probably a tad longer than the big man across the table. Hank gulped loudly on purpose, just to show Javier how much he approved of what he saw. “I also know how to use it, Hank. I know how to use it really well.” “I’ve never bottomed, Javy, but maybe you could teach me how.” “Oh my god, you’re kidding.” “Nope. I guess it’s still from my supposed straight days. I was married for so long that I got used to plowing. My wife loved it super hard, so I got a lot of practice for later on.” “I’ll teach you how to be a controlling bottom, Hank – how about that?” “I’d love it. I think I’ll especially love practicing.” By this time they were outside the restaurant – having caused quite a scene as they walked through the place with what seemed like logs in their pants. One lady actually fanned herself as they walked by. No, out on the sidewalk, they were still getting stares – especially Hank, because of his enormous size and muscles. Javier clearly noticed how people stared and ran into things because they weren’t watching. “You get used to it, Javier. I sometimes don’t even notice people staring, unless I’m doing something to show off. Then I love looking around and seeing their faces.” “Well, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being around your huge body, that’s for sure.” Hank took that as a cue to move in for what he knew the little man truly wanted. Hank stepped in front of Javier, bent his knees, wrapped his arms around the little guy’s torso, and then easily stood up. A guy walking by gasped out loud and almost ran into a light pole. Javier exhaled loudly – mainly because Hank’s hug pushed all of the air out of his body. Javier was surrounded by harness. Every muscle in Hank’s frame must have felt like solid rock. It was the most exciting and secure feeling Javier had ever felt. Hank started squeezing tighter and the younger man could feel parts of his body adjusting to accommodate the pressure. Soon there was a jolting pain to Javier’s torso and it caused him to let out a slight moan of pleasure. This caused Hank to smile even more and he brought his face down to give Javier a prickly goatee kiss – manly and gentle at the same time. Javier jumped at the chance to kiss the big man back – using his mouth in the same way that had always gotten him compliments in the past. Javier was known to be one of the best kissers in town – well, at least among all the people he had ever dated. It was Hank’s turn to moan – a little louder, though – as he experienced Javier special gift. After about a minute, Hank pulled his face back – worried that his body was going to erupt from the pleasure he was feeling from Javier’s mouth. “Where in the hell did you learn to kiss like that?” “I’ve had a lot of practice. Um, Hank, not that I’m complaining, but I’m beginning to not feel my legs, so when you put me down don’t let go too quickly.” “Oh, sorry, too hard?” “No, it’s perfect, I just don’t want to end up lying on the sidewalk.” Hank lessened the pressure in his arms and let Javier’s body slide down his own. The smaller man’s face smacked into the massive pecs before him and then settled into the mammoth crevice between them. Hank held Javier in this exact place for a little while – both to give him some time to recover from the bear hug and to excite him even more. He finally sensed that Javier was okay and he released him – noticing that the young man teetered a little and then strengthened his stance. Hank stepped back and looked down at the cute man, who was staring upward with a giant smile. “Not even a fraction of your total strength was it?” “Nope.” “I’ll have to work my way up to at least half.” “I’d never hurt you, Javier, but we can keep increasing the bear hug power. Maybe we can come up with a ‘safe’ word that you can use to get me to stop.” “More.” “That defeats the purpose of a safe word, little man.” “I know.” This made Hank laugh out loud. His mammoth chest bounced up and down and Javier’s gaze was transfixed. Both men stared at each other for a full minute after the laughter had ended. Somehow, each of them knew something magical was starting at this moment. Javier desperately wanted to sleep in Hank’s enormous arms that night, but he knew it was for the best to go their separate ways. Hank felt the same way. Neither man wanted to be the first to go, but finally the elder muscleman took control. “Goodnight, Javier. Meet me at Paddy’s Gym on twenty-third tomorrow at six. We could do a quick dinner after you watch me workout – if that’s good for you.” “Being around you is always going to be good for me. Goodnight, Hank, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before he turned to walk away Javier reached up and placed both of his hands on the humongous pecs in front of his face. Hank immediately tensed the muscles and everything went super hard. Javier drew his hands back and after making fists punched both pecs teasingly. Their hardness made the younger man’s fingers hurt a little and this turned him on. He looked up into Hank’s face, smiled, and then turned to walk away. “By the way, Javier, I curl about two times your weight. I just thought you’d want to know.” Javier did not turn back around. He merely held up his hand and waved goodbye over his shoulder. At the same time he shook his head, signifying he was in awe of the big man. Hank brought his fingers up to his mouth and whistled loudly – making a few people on the other side of the street stop. It even made Javier pause for a few seconds, but then he continued on. Hank called out, cementing his place as a construction worker. “Nice ass, little fella.”
  5. 2 points
    Author's Note: I wrote this story in 2017 -- a little muscle-growth, a little mind-control, and some gear fetish -- my usual tropes. Enjoy THE LUCKY JOCKSTRAP By absman420 “Gentlemen, it’s the last game of the season and you know what that means….” The boys did. Collectively eager sighs all around. Some of them murmured “lucky jockstrap” under their breath, hoping it would be them this year. Toby sat on the bench in front of his locker, shaking his head slightly -- he’d heard the rumors, but he thought they were ridiculous. There was no possible way… The Coach chuckled, his thick, muscular frame flexing as he leaned against the row of lockers. “That’s right,” he said, adjusting his own package as he spoke. “One of you boys is getting the chance of a lifetime! And with all the scouts out there looking at Goldy, you might get a free ride someplace yourself!” All of them -- Toby included -- glanced at Robbie Goldman, who was already dressed in his jockstrap and hip pads, slowly sliding his game pants up his muscular thighs. He was fucking gorgeous, built and handsome, his self-confidence radiating with the kind of casualness only possessed by the kind of guys who’d never suffered, who’d never known opposition, who’d never even had a zit. Toby hated the mother-fucker, the big muscles, the movie-star looks, the big cock that he showed off with pride in the shower. It just wasn’t fair. When he noticed them all looking, Goldy flexed his abs hard, all the grooved lines leading the eye to his big jock bulge. He winked and blew them a kiss. Most of the boys laughed -- not Toby. The Coach still had a smirk on his face -- he looked at Goldy like the boy could do no wrong. He was so obvious about it. “So suit up, boys!” he said, righting his stance to be on both feet. “One of you is about to have a helluva game!” Stuff and nonsense, Toby thought as the Coach left the locker room, glad-handing boys on the back and laughing with them. The pre-game excitement was nothing compared to the speculation over who would win the Lucky Jockstrap. “I think it’s bullshit,” said Eddie Brannigan at the locker next to Toby as he slid off his boxer shorts. “Agreed,” said Toby, pulling off his school shirt and stuffing it in his locker. “What chance would we have of winning, anyway, even if it WAS real?” Eddie bitched, picking the new, clean jockstrap left in his locker and examining it before his slid it on. “They’d just give it to one of the starters, the popular fuckers…” “Probably that douchebag Goldman already has it on,” Toby said, taking the jockstrap left for him off the hook in his locker. And then, as if he’d heard them, Robbie Goldman was standing right next to them, in his game pants and the t-shirt he wore under his pads, ripped to expose his entire, glorious core. “Did I just hear my name?” he asked, ever flexing. He saw the jockstrap in Toby’s hand and nodded toward it. “Think that might be the lucky one?” Toby barked a laugh. “Well, why not? Could be anybody.” “My guess would be you,” Toby said, pulling the jockstrap on and adjusting himself in it. “Coach has a fucking hard-on for you, anyway. Why not give your Gold Star some magical, Lucky Jockstrap?” Instead of taking his bait, Goldy shrugged -- his attitude dripped of the kind of casualness only produced by the most arrogant. “Cuz I won it last year,” he said, making his way back to his locker, “and I doubt I’d get it two years in a row. Like you could improve on this.” He motioned to his crotch. “Good luck, bitches.” With that, he grabbed his shoulder pads and jersey and headed toward the training room, muscular poetry in motion. “‘Like you could improve on this,’” Eddie mumbled under his breath as he belted his game pants. “I hate that fucker,” Toby said, stepping into his own pads. “I swear to God, I wish there WERE some kind of magic jockstrap that could make me big enough to pop that pretty-boy ass-wipe upside the head! I would fucking love that!” As he pulled his pants up and belted them, he didn’t notice his jockstrap feeling any different than any other jockstrap he’d worn in his life. He laughed to himself -- magic jockstraps! Obviously, the Coach was doing some weird, motivational thing with the team on this, the last game of the season. Maybe if they thought they were wearing a magic jock, they’d play harder or something. It was obviously a joke that had become an urban legend, thought Toby. Or maybe it was some elaborate prank on the New Kid in School -- he wouldn’t put it past this bunch of assholes. Even as a senior, maybe because he was a senior, nobody had made this new school feel like home to him -- they were all busy looking forward to college -- they didn’t have time. Toby looked forward to college, too. Sure, it meant starting over -- again! -- but this time, it wouldn’t be just him. EVERYBODY was a naive freshman. And he’d already gotten early acceptance to his Ivy-League favorite, so it wasn’t like he was worried. Just gotta get through senior year, shitty as it might be. He and Eddie grabbed their shoulder pads and headed their skinny asses to the training room along with the other boys -- all of them secretly wishing they were wearing the Lucky Jockstrap, whether they believed it was true or not. *********************************************** Things started getting weird for Toby during the very first play of the game -- the freakin’ punt return! He was a third -- or fourth -- string receiver, which automatically put him on special teams. He and Eddie were deep in the back and though the punt was clearly headed in Eddie’s direction, he didn’t signal a fair catch -- it was almost like he didn’t see the ball at all. Toby watched the ball smack Eddie clearly in the facemask, where it bounced clumsily toward him. Surprising himself, Toby caught the ball before it hit the ground and with a little twist, started running toward the opposite goal. He felt really good, easily going fifteen yards before meeting the defense -- this would be one his best return stats ever! Then, to his surprise, he passed the defenders like they weren’t even there. It seemed odd to him that such big guys moved so slowly -- he dodged them easily, almost reading their bodies and feeling their moves before they made them. He was open-running now, striding like a gazelle, feeling the strength of his hamstrings and glutes -- he felt so open and free, light and powerful. He could feel a defender approaching him from the rear, so like a rabbit, he changed his trajectory. The boy following him fell to the ground empty-handed just as Toby crossed the goal-line. Touchdown. He’d just scored a touchdown. He couldn’t believe it -- he wasn’t even breathing hard. He’d just scored a touchdown on the first freakin’ punt-return of the game! Maybe he was wearing the Lucky Jockstrap. And before he had time to laugh at his own thought, his team was upon him, cheering and smacking his helmet and his ass. “Where you been hiding those moves?” “Fuckin’ made them look like chumps!” “It’s gotta be the jockstrap!” That made someone laugh in the way of high school boys and fart jokes. “Yeah,” someone repeated. “Gotta be the jockstrap!” Then they all started in, laughing and picking at his ass. Toby, who’d never been the center of good-natured intention before, was flying high, though his own innate cynicism kept trying to rear its ugly head. He really wanted to believe that there might be some Lucky Jockstrap -- and that for some reason, HE’D been lucky enough to get it. He’d gotten the tiniest bit of wood at the thought -- his dick plumped up a little anyway -- but he kind of liked the way it felt, so it didn’t bother him. It made him feel kind of alpha male. Even the Coach patted his ass. “Good job, Toby. How’d that feel?” Toby laughed. “Surprisingly easy,” he said. “When can I go out again?” “I like your hunger,” the Coach said, “but I’m saving you. I got plans for you later.” With that, the Coach was back in the game, yelling as their punter kicked the point after. For the rest of the game, Toby wondered if he was the one. Other players were having good games, too. But every time Toby found himself on the field, he moved with strength and ease and an awareness of his body in space that he’d never felt before. He’d always been a nerd who played football because his dad made him, but now, in his last game of his senior year, he was finding a love for the game he’d never had before. And his jockstrap -- lucky or not -- felt great on his half-hard dick. It came down to the last play of the game. They were behind by a field-goal, but it was fourth down and too far to kick. Hail Mary. Coach put Toby in -- hell, ALL the receivers were in. “I need you to run, boy,” he said, as Toby, with a strange sense of confidence, trotted out to the huddle. The snap -- everybody went in motion. Like before, Toby suddenly felt like he was the only one moving in real time -- all the other players seemed to be moving slowly. It took no effort to dodge them, pass them, leave them behind. And then the strangest sensation of all -- he became aware of the ball, descending above and behind him -- he could feel its arc. And even with defenders on his tail and others crowding the endzone, Toby knew the exact right moment to break his run and leap, turning just enough for Goldy’s pass to land perfectly in his arms, like he knew it would -- right on the numbers. Picture perfect. He came down in the endzone -- touchdown! First and last touchdowns of the game, he laughed to himself. That’s when he knew he had the Lucky Jockstrap. Toby, a mediocre player at best, just scored the game-winning touchdown on the last game of his senior year -- if that wasn’t the definition of Lucky Jockstrap, he didn’t know what was! Why wouldn’t he get a hard on? His teammates were upon him, cheering and smacking him and lifting him off the ground. He even had this strange moment when Goldy ran up to him, hugging him close. “You caught it” he yelled happily. “You fucking caught that pass like you knew it was there!” “I did!” Toby replied, just as giddy. “I could feel it!” Goldy started banging their helmeted heads together. “You got the jock!” he yelled, and Toby could feel the start of Goldy’s erection pressing into his own. It was a fucking moment. The cheers and horseplay followed him all the way to the locker room -- the energy of the win had the boys at a fever pitch. Eddie danced around him like a puppy off the leash! “That was fuckin’ amazing! You were fuckin’ amazing! Gotta be the jock!” Toby had barely gotten his shoulder pads off when the Coach yelled, “Toby!” from his office door. “Toby,” he bass rumbled, an ear-to-ear smile, “get your ass in here!” A big, jealous grin from Eddie started him off. The boys cat-called him and slapped his ass as he made his way down the aisle toward the coach’s office -- it was the first time he ever felt part of the team! He was lucky -- jockstrap or not. The Coach closed the door behind them, cutting off most of the noise from the locker room -- he sat his muscular form on the edge of his desk, looking at Toby with a smile on his face. Toby stood there in his game pants and the sweaty t-shirt he’d worn beneath his pads and he felt kind of weird -- what was this all about? “How do you feel?” Coach asked, his thick, muscular arms crossed in front of his chest. “Pretty fucking great!” Toby said. “You know, for a guy who just scored the game-winning touchdown!” Coach chuckled. “Must be the jockstrap.” Toby smiled -- his dick still half-hard. He shrugged. “Must be.” “Let’s find out,” the Coach said, shifting his weight. “Take your shirt off.” And even though Toby said, “What?” he immediately found himself pulling his t-shirt over his head. “Flex for me. Let me see those abs.” Toby was more than a little confused when he put his hands behind his head and flexed his abs for the Coach. First, he was confused that he was doing it at all, and then second, he was confused as to where his abs had suddenly come from. What a rack! A tight, lumpy eight pack with deep grooves and separations -- an Adonis belt showing an obvious “V” leading into the front of his game pants. He turned to display his obliques -- why was he doing this? “What’s happening?” he asked, voice wavering, panicking -- not that that stopped him from flexing. The Coach smiled. “Relax, Toby. Don’t panic. You love flexing for me -- it turns you on.” That’s for sure, Toby thought, squeezing his abs tight and twisting his hip. If the old man wants to look, let him see. Toby’s cock thickened a little, kind of obvious itself. “Nice,” Coach said. “Lose the pants.” Toby undid the belt and the lace-front pants, then slid his thumbs behind the waistband, about to shove everything down, leaving himself naked, when the Coach said, “No, no. Leave the jock on. Never take off the jock.” And then he was standing there in front of the Coach in only his jockstrap, his half-hard cock obvious in its cotton mesh pouch. Toby calmly said, “I don’t understand what’s going on.” The Coach eyed him up and down, like he was a piece of meat, then made a motion for Toby to turn around. He obeyed, but he didn’t know why. “Very nice,” the Coach said. “You’ve gained some good size in your legs and ass. I’ll still need you to be bigger, though.” Bigger, Toby thought. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll get bigger.” And when he did, his cock twitched -- pleasure. He was so confused. “Tell me what’s going on. Please.” “Hold on a second,” the Coach said and sauntered over to the locker room door, his own massive legs swinging around each other. “Goldman!” he hollered, head through the door. “Get your ass in here!” Toby could hear the other boys laughing and joking to themselves, probably getting ready for showers. He wasn’t able to call out to them -- he just stood there, waiting. Goldy entered the office, wearing only his jockstrap and carrying a towel. “What’s up, Coach?” he asked, making quick eye-contact with Toby and smirking. “How’s our lucky winner?” “Flex for us, would you, Goldy?” Coach said. “Toby needs something to look at as I explain things to him. You don’t need to pay attention to us -- just focus on flexing.” “You got it, Coach!” Goldy said, immediately beginning his routine, flexing his abs -- his cock sprang to life in his jockstrap, beginning to stretch the pouch. Even Toby could see the guy had a big cock. He seemed to be really into posing. “You know Goldy’s going to State next year, full ride.” Toby DID know that, but when he turned to acknowledge the Coach, the Coach said, “Keep your eye on Goldy. Look at that incredible body.” Toby shifted his eyes back to the quarterback -- Goldy DID have an incredible body, so ripped and muscular. He didn’t mind watching while the Coach spoke. “Goldy’s gonna be a superstar there -- probably get drafted early -- as long as he stays focused on his game. That’s where you come in. Tell me, what do you think of him? Tell me the truth.” Toby watched the boy pose and flex, a vapid smile on the quarterback’s face. “I think he’s a douchebag,” Toby said calmly. A douchebag with an incredible body. “I can imagine,” the Coach said. “He’s a winning quarterback going full ride to State, and the pros beyond that, an incredible body, he’s gorgeous. And look at that fuckin’ cock. Imagine having a cock like that…” Toby looked at Goldman’s cock -- lucky bastard. “I can understand why you’d be jealous.” Jealous? thought Toby. Was he jealous? Is THAT what he’d been feeling? It must have been -- everything the Coach said was so TRUE. Had he let petty jealousy get in the way of appreciating Goldy for what he really was? That made so much sense. “In fact,” Coach said, “I think it would do you a lot of good to admit how you really feel, how you recognize Goldy’s natural superiority and wish that it could be you.” Toby had tears in his eyes. “It’s true!” he said, as if he were confessing. Why had it been so hard? “It’s not him -- it’s ME! I was so jealous I pushed all that negative shit on him when it was ME who was fucked up. He’s gorgeous! He’s perfect! He’s EVERYTHING! And I’m just some petty, jealous mother-fucker who’ll never be that lucky.” Goldy just kept flexing, oblivious to it all, a self-loving smirk on his face. “Feels good to get it out, doesn’t it?” And Toby did feel good, a wave of peace and ease overtook him. Everything was so clear. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve wasted so much energy hating him.” “Well, you can make it up to him. Goldy’s going to State next Fall and I need him to be focused on football, not worrying about homework and papers and grades -- that’s the stuff you like.” That was true, thought Toby. While Goldy may have been his physical superior, Toby was the brains of the outfit -- he was going Ivy League, after all. “But I’m not going to State,” Toby said. “I’ve been pre-accepted to…” “State,” said the Coach, interrupting him. “I just got you recruited to State. That’s why I put you in the Lucky Jockstrap, so the recruiter would see you making some sweet moves and snap you up. Now you can have Goldy’s back -- he can focus on football and training and you can take care of all the bullshit, the papers and the homework. Isn’t that awesome?” A smile crossed Toby’s face. It WAS awesome! It would be so much easier for Goldy if he didn’t have to get bogged down with all the stuff that Toby was so good at. Of course Toby would go to State if it meant he could help Goldy .The Coach had thought of everything. “One more thing,” the Coach said. “I need Goldy focused on football and training, not dealing with some sexual assault case or accidental pregnancy -- I don’t need girls fucking up the picture -- so there’s something else you can help out with.” “Wait a minute,” Toby said, calmly watching Goldy flex his magnificent body, “I’m not gay.” “I don’t care,” Coach said, sounding a little annoyed. “You kids and your labels. I don’t give a shit what you call yourself. My boy has needs -- you’re there to satisfy them so he can stay focused on the shit that matters: football and training.” “But I don’t want…” “Yes, you do. Now be quiet and drop to your knees.” Toby obeyed, kneeling in front of Goldy, the muscular quarterback’s sweaty jockstrap pouch right in his face, inches away from his mouth. He was repulsed.. “Look at that package,” Coach roughly whispered, squatting down next to Toby. “Look how full, how masculine.” Toby had to admit, whether it was gay or not, Goldy had a beautiful package -- he filled that jockstrap so fully. So masculine.“And look at his cock,” Coach continued. “Look how much he likes posing for us, how he gets off on it. Look how his cock gets thicker and more beautiful as it grows there in the pouch. It’s an amazing cock.” “It’s an amazing cock,” Toby agreed, and his own cock started to get hard in his own jockstrap. “Get in there close,” Coach said. “Smell his scent -- get to know it.” Toby did -- his nose was buried in Goldy’s sweaty jockstrap. He could feel Goldy’s amazing cock hardening against his face. “Kiss it,” Coach said. “Kiss that amazing cock.” Toby found himself kissing it, licking it, soaking the jockstrap in his spit. He couldn’t get enough. Goldy’s cock was rock-hard, straining the cotton webbing of the pouch to the max. Toby had never wanted anything so bad. “Feels like you’re ready,” Coach said. “Why don’t you take it out and suck it? Really pleasure him -- the way he deserves. It’s what you want.” He did -- Toby wanted it. He needed it. Frantically, he pulled the waist strap down and Goldy’s big, beautiful cock flopped out. Gorgeous. It was fucking gorgeous. As perfect as Goldy himself. Toby nearly gagged, it was so big and he was so anxious. Goldy moaned and Toby realized it was from the pleasure Toby was giving him -- that turned him on even more! Coach’s voice faded into the background as Toby worked Goldy’s cock -- he knew Coach was talking, but he couldn’t make out the words. He didn’t care. All that mattered was Goldy’s cock.. Amazing. He’d never felt anything like it -- never even considered it -- taking a man’s cock in his mouth, feeling it push itself against the roof of his mouth, the taste of his sweat and pre-cum. Giving pleasure gave him so much pleasure himself -- wave after wave coursed through him, reinforcing his desire. Nothing mattered but this -- nothing mattered but serving Robbie Goldman. Toby would do anything for him. Anything. He lost track of time as he sucked and Coach told him what he needed to know -- how he needed to feel. When Goldy came in his mouth, filling it with his salty ambrosia, Toby came himself, soaking his jockstrap in cum -- but he ignored it. He was too busy swallowing every bit of Goldy’s -- there was nothing better. No reward more fulfilling. And he wanted more. He was so lucky. ************************************************** Nine months later. State University -- the athletic dorm. The morning sun shines through the slits in the blinds, highlighting the sleeping muscular jock in striped shadows. His morning wood is quite obvious beneath the thin cotton sheets. From the darkness of the other bed, a heavily muscled young man carefully turns his alarm clock off before it rings and gingerly crawls across the floor toward the sleeping jock. Kneeling beside the bed, he carefully lifts the sheet away, exposing the jock’s glorious cock, rock hard and thickly lying across the jock’s hip. Without hesitation, he takes the jock’s cock in his mouth, gently sucking the jock awake.The jock orgasms in that moment, filling the heavily muscled young man’s mouth with his salty cum -- the first of many today. The jock has been awake for a while, but he doesn’t open his eyes or move until after he’s orgasmed. Then he casually wraps his hand around the heavily muscled young man’s head and affectionately pushes him off his cock. “Thanks, Toby,” he says quietly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “That’s how I like to start my day.” The heavily muscled young man takes the compliment and a shudder of pleasure runs through him. “As if I could resist a chance at that cock,” Toby says, standing up and adjusting his own morning wood in the jockstrap he never takes off -- his Lucky Jock. “What do you weigh now?” Goldy asks, lounging in bed, studying Toby as Toby brings him his coffee. “I was 238 at weigh-in yesterday,” Toby says, flexing seductively. “I’m getting there, aren’t I?” Goldy smiles over the brim of his coffee cup. “You know I like ‘em big.” Toby has already become too big to be an effective receiver, so they’ve made him a tight end, which Goldy thinks is hysterical. Toby’s new-found muscle size is more useful in that position -- and it allows him to train with abandon. Goldy likes a training partner who pushes him in the weight room -- and it adds to the illusion of their relationship. “I’ll get as big as you want,” Toby says, flexing his arms in a double bi. “I love being big!” “You love being anything I want,” Goldy says, chuckling to himself. “It’s too perfect!” “You deserve it,” Toby says, earnestly, kneeling at the foot of Goldy’s bed. “You need to focus on football and training. I’m happy to take care of anything else. Anything -- I’m so lucky!” “Did you get my English paper done?” “Of course. I also took two of your online midterms. I’m finishing your pottery project after practice.” “Cool,” Goldy says, rubbing Toby’s head like a dog, which makes a shiver of pleasure run through Toby. “Let’s go get some breakfast at the union and then hit the gym. I feel like pumping some chest this morning.” “You got it!” Toby says, jumping up to get changed as Goldy takes a piss in the bathroom. “You seen my yellow compression shirt?” “I did your laundry yesterday -- it’s folded and in the drawer.” “Damn,” Goldy says, coming out of the bathroom, grabbing at his crotch. “Someone’s looking to get fucked, isn’t he?” Toby laughs quietly ducking his head, sliding shorts on over his jockstrap as Goldy puts on compression pants. ”I only want to please you.” Goldy pats Toby’s butt. “Your ass in that jockstrap pleases me.” Some of the guys made fun of Toby because he never takes off his jockstrap, but he waves them off. “This jock changed my life!” he says. “The first time I put it on, I got a touchdown on a kickoff return and then the winning touchdown in the same game! I swore then that if we kept winning, I’d leave it on! It’s lucky, I tell you. It’s my Lucky Jockstrap!”
  6. 2 points
    (AUTHOR’S NOTE: Friends, I just can’t write a short story -- I mean, I can’t write a story that’s short. I swear, I’ve tried -- I even tried here -- but for some reason, I get started and I suddenly realize I’m writing ANOTHER long-ass rambling. Forgive me. And if your erotic attention span isn’t long enough to get to my denouement, well… what can I say? I warned you.) BOY IN A BAG By absman420 He’d reached a time in his life when compliments ended with “for your age” -- “You’re in great shape… for your age” or “I hope I’m still training that hard when I’m your age” and the like (“the like” being “sure, you’re bald, but at least your head has a nice shape”) -- that little barb hidden inside the kindness, wrecking the whole thing. Didn’t people realize how patronizing that was? How condescending? Worse, he’d gone from desirable muscle-daddy to invisible man almost overnight. The gym, which had always been a flirty, playful place, was now a place where men practiced the art of aversion -- no eye-contact, no acknowledgement, no existence. The arc of life for the gay top, he consoled himself as he lay on the gym mat, stretching -- prostates, erectile dysfunction, man-boobs, nope… you can’t fight time. Look at those beautiful boys! There was a seeming pack of them at the gym, dim-witted and gorgeous, ponderously over-built but for their baby-faces, endlessly posing and giggling with each other -- oh, how he wished the kind of designer drugs that existed now had existed when HE’D been their age! Hell, in his day, they used to inject veterinary-grade horse testosterone! Now it was all pro-hormone this and peptide that -- they had these perfect bodies and these perfect complexions and no fucking clue how lucky they were. There they were now in their tights and their meggings showing off their beautiful asses and their full, unatrophied balls -- they lifted their shirts so often to check their abs it’s like they had to keep reminding themselves they had them. Wilson sighed -- he was envious and he knew it. It never used to bother him, but lately Wilson had discovered himself crossing some imaginary line to old man. Sexually, he didn’t seem to have “it” anymore -- no one seemed attracted to him. His body was still fairly good -- for his age -- certainly nothing like it was back when he competed, but if no other truth became clearer to Wilson as he got older it was that gravity always won. Hell, even after you die, gravity keeps pulling you back down. Suddenly, dropping down next to him on the mat -- see? gravity -- another beauty of a guy -- mid-thirties, maybe, spent too much time in the sun, but an amazing body. As he started to stretch, he looked at Wilson and smiled. “Hey, hot daddy,” he said. “Hey, hot muscleboy,” Wilson said, the words out of his mouth before he realized what he’d said -- almost by habit. The guy stopped what he was doing and met Wilson’s gaze. He smirked. “Woof,” he said. Wilson barked a laugh. “You’re too kind,” he said. “But someone like you should be flirting with those ridiculously hot boys over there, not wasting your charm on old guys like me.” “I like old guys like you,” he said as he glanced over at the pretty boys. “They’re a bunch of doofuses. Pretty… but overpriced.” He chuckled. “I don’t have to pay… yet.” Wilson sighed as he stretched his hamstring. “I don’t have to pay, either.” The guy laughed. “No,” he said. “Not when you got hunky guys like me throwing themselves at you.” “Oh? Are you throwing yourself at me?” “I think so,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Jonas. Wanna fuck?” ********************************************************* Wilson hadn’t fucked anyone at the gym in years -- and here he was slamming the fuck out of this hot muscle-guy in the posing room. Thank God everything was cooperating -- at his age, his cock wasn’t always agreeable to spontaneous sex. But there was something about this guy Jonas -- fucking beautiful body -- fucking AMAZING ass -- that made his cock proceed with confidence. Of course they were rushed -- who knew when one of the bodybuilders (or that roving gang of pretty boys) would decide they wanted the posing room for themselves? And if they DID come in, would they be repulsed or intrigued? Would they run or join? Fight or flight? They fucked facing the mirror, Jonas bent over the small bench that people normally dropped their clothes or gym bags on. God, he was beautiful! Muscular without being thick-waisted -- and his ass! A dream! A delicacy! Bubbled and round, but firm and no-nonsense -- when he flexed it, it was rock hard, but when he was relaxed, it was a cushion that Wilson loved pushin’. They both still wore their gym clothes -- and for that, Wilson could only be grateful, no need to see his saggy ass body next to this prime beast. Why couldn’t HE still be in his prime? Looking at his bald head and white beard in the mirror, he couldn’t help think he was off-season santa. No… don’t get distracted, you old fuck. Old maybe, but Wilson’s cock was still it’s big familiar self. As a youth, he learned he was a grower. He didn’t realize how big his cock WAS until he’d started having gay encounters. He thought all those guys in the locker room with big, soft cocks must get ENORMOUS when hard. Little did he know. And who didn’t love a true top? And who didn’t love a muscular top, at that? Wilson’s most exciting discovery when he’d first come to California was that a lot of the hypermuscular bodybuilders were bottoms, all of them looking for a big, strong Daddy to give them what they needed, discipline and dick. Wilson was good at both. But if there was one thing this old man couldn’t do, it was edge. He was nearly ready to cum before he’d even gotten a steady rhythm going. Or maybe it was just that this guy Jonas had some talent. “Oh fuck,” Wilson said, “I’m gonna cum! I can’t stop myself!” “Lemme have it, daddy!” Jonas grunted. “Put it deep in my hungry hole!” “Oh, shit!” sighed Wilson, and blew it. Old fucking man, he thought. When you were young, you’d have made that last longer than two minutes. Embarrassing. But Jonas didn’t seem to mind, as he set about the business of jerking off while Wilson’s dick was still inside him. Wilson reached around and pinched the guy’s nipples, tiny little small things on the swell of enormous pecs. “Oh, yes,” Jonas moaned, standing up a little straighter. When he shot his load, his cum hit the mirror, nearly three feet away. Pulling out and wiping off on his gym towel, Wilson did his best to throw off his embarrassment -- still, he tucked himself back in his jockstrap and shorts pretty fast. Nervous, he didn’t want to seem too desperate, or too grateful. “That was fucking hot,” Jonas said, wiping his cum off the mirror with his t-shirt. “I haven’t done anything like this in years,” Wilson said. “I can’t even remember the last time I was naughty at the gym. I think it was two owners ago, in the old steam room….” “You should do it more often,” Jonas said, putting the t-shirt in his gym bag. “You got a great dick.” Wilson chuckled. “Maybe,” he said, “but I can’t rely on him always performing on cue anymore. And, as you can see, it doesn’t always last that long.” “Don’t make excuses,” Jonas said, kissing him quickly as he walked past. “It was great. Not that I couldn’t get you something that would make it a little greater.” “Oh, really? I hate to step on your sales pitch, but I’ve tried just about every form and flavor of ED therapy there is, every pill and troche and injection and testicular device. Every rub and scrub and lotion from the tribal Amazon basin. At some point, a man has to accept a certain sexual inevitably.” Jonas laughed. “So I guess I should give you my card. I’m an ambassador for a local pharmacy that specializes in anti-aging.” Wilson smiled. “Is this a sales technique of yours?” “Why? Is it working?” Wilson lightly put his hand on Jonas’ round, firm ass. “Let’s say I’m intrigued,” Wilson purred. “And interested in more.” Jonas flicked his eyebrows. “Definitely,” he said. And they kissed. ********************************************************* “So, the company I work for has perfected a peptide growth-hormone variant that has shown spectacular success in testicular rejuvenation, visceral fat loss and muscle retention. They can’t call it the fountain of youth in a bottle, but it basically is. It’s still in limited release, but I have access to it -- if you want to try it.” “Really?” asked Wilson, genuinely intrigued, but nervous -- he never pictured an open conversation like this in a locker room. In his day, steroids had codewords and were discussed hush-hush in private. Nowadays almost nothing was illegal -- it was all prescribed! “I promise it’s nothing but good,” he said, standing there in just his towel, hung low over his narrow hips. “I mean, I’VE done it.” “You? On anti-aging therapy?” Wilson laughed, trying not to look like he was covering his saggy barrel belly. “You can’t be more than 30, 35 at most.” Jonas’ smile widened. “Bless you,” he said. “I’m fifty-three.” Wilson was dumbfounded. His jaw hung slightly open as he tried to take in the truth of Jonas’ statement. It was impossible -- it was some kind of weird joke. A guy he was calling “boy” a few minutes ago was only six years younger than him? Impossible! “Impossible…” “Is this the part where I show you my driver’s license?” Jonas laughed -- his good humor was unflappable. “Trust me, I was born in the sixties… and I’ve got the Bobby Sherman albums to prove it!” “But…” Wilson mumbled, making an empty gesture toward Jonas’ abs, his impossible mid-section. His youthful skin. “I can even get it for you at my rate -- c’mon, you know you wanna do it. Don’t be an old man… anymore.” They made eye contact -- Jonas smiled slyly. “Do it.” And Wilson was surprised by how quickly he said, “Okay.” ********************************************************* That was how Wilson found himself at Jonas’ beach house in Malibu that evening, watching the sun set over the ocean as Jonas explained the procedure. Wilson had done SOME research during the afternoon -- he’d read the pharmacy’s website, but found precious little about the actual compound he’d be taking. Just that it had been in trial tests and results had been promising. “It’s a series,” Jonas said, opening a small white cardboard box adorned with the pharmacy’s logo and removing an IV bag. “Four treatments -- one a week, sometimes ten days, depending on how quickly your body responds to the formula. Takes about a half-hour to do the IV. Side effect: it can make you a little nauseous, so you might want to crash here tonight. You might even just want to lay out here under the stars.” “Your house is beautiful,” Wilson said, settling into a lounge chair on the patio. “Perhaps I should’ve become a pharmacy rep when I retired.” Jonas laughed. “I’m also a pimp on the side,” he said, setting up the IV-stand next to Wilson’s chair. “Believe me, the best part of rejuvenation is the sex -- you forget how much you missed it.” Wilson was eye-level with Jonas’ thick package, proudly displayed in his too-small speedo -- Wilson licked his lips. “I can’t wait,” he said. “Let me get you set up then.” Jonas tied a rubber tube around Wilson’s bicep and said, “Give me a vein.” Wilson squeezed his fist and his forearms popped. Jonas tore the needle out of it’s sterile wrapper and inserted it so neatly and painlessly into Wilson’s vein that Wilson realized the guy had a ton of experience. He attached the IV-line and the began the transfusion. “Beautiful,” he said, removing the rubber tube tourniquet and allowing Wilson’s blood to flow. “It’ll take about a half hour.” Wilson was still looking at Jonas’ junk. “No worries. I love the view.” ********************************************************* “A little nauseous” didn’t begin to describe it. Even the slightest movement caused his belly to flip, even less to flop. His body burned, a fire raging through him -- he’d go between rounds of horrible sweating to shakes of coldness as his wet clothes clung to him. It was worse than the worst flu he’d ever had. At one point, he remembered himself on the toilet, shit exploding out of him -- everything nasty coming out. The piss, the shit, the vomit -- who knew he had so much crap inside him. He was spewing every bit of it out. There were times he was aware of Jonas hovering over him, caring for him. “You’re doing great, Willy,” he thought he heard Jonas say. Why would he call him that? Wilson was delirious. Jonas put a cold-compress on his forehead -- he thought. Did he remember that? Imagine it? Hours later, as the fever broke, Wilson passed out. ********************************************************* His morning wood woke him, insistent and throbbing -- how many years had it been since he’d had THAT problem? Absently, he grabbed his cock with his hand, mildly impressed by it, as he surfaced back to reality. He was still lying on the lounge chair on Jonas’ patio, though someone had thrown a comforter over him sometime during the night. The sunrise was behind the house, casting long, cool shadows across the beach. He vaguely remembered moments of puking and sweating and diarrhea, but there seemed no evidence of that now -- his shorts and t-shirt were clean and dry. The only differences were this blanket… ...and this hard-on. Wilson lay quietly for a moment, listening to the ocean lap on the shore as he casually stroked his cock -- which seemed a bit more of a handful than usual, but that was probably because he hadn’t been this hard in a while. This was a teenager’s erection. And it felt really good. “Looks like someone’s up,” Jonas called, coming through the patio door carrying a coffee tray -- he was dressed in only an open bathrobe and a pair of tighty-whities, tight because of how he filled them. “How do you feel?” Wilson laughed. “I feel good,” he said, smiling. “Morning wood kind of good!” “That’s what I like to hear!” Jonas said, setting the coffee service down on the table. “It’s funny,” Wilson said, still absently playing with his hard-on beneath the comforter. “I swear I was sick overnight, like it was really bad, but now I feel clean and… hell, even my breath is fresh!” Jonas poured him a cup of coffee. “The first dose tends to clean out the internal systems…. Sugar? Milk?” “Black,” Wilson said, gladly taking the cup. Jonas continued talking as he made a coffee for himself. “As I was saying, first dose hits the internal system: the gut, the liver, kidneys, digestive system, endocrine system, sex organs. This week, as your internal systems reset, you’ll continue to feel better and better, healthier, I guess you could say. By the end of the week, you won’t even get acid reflux anymore. And wait’ll you see what it does to your sex drive.” “I’m already seeing that,” Wilson said. “I haven’t had morning wood in decades.” Jonas smiled that crooked, sly smile. “Don’t lose that,” he said. “I might want it after coffee.” “That’s the only cream I’ll take.” ********************************************************* Jonas had been right -- as the week progressed, Wilson did continue to feel better. His energy was better. His recuperation time was faster. Hell, even his poops were good -- and for an old man, like an old dog, quality of poops was everything. It all contributed to his good mood -- he felt good inside, healthy, and he couldn’t help but smile. He may still be an old, bald, white-bearded guy on the outside, but inside he felt good as new. People noticed. “Someone’s in a good mood!” they’d say to him at the gym, but with his workouts improving the way they were, it wasn’t a surprise. He hadn’t gotten pumps this good in a long while. His dizzy smile made sense -- and it felt good, too. Screw them if they wanted to wallow in their misery -- they weren’t gonna drag old Wilson down anymore. And his dick kept making itself known. Hell, he hadn’t had so many spontaneous erections since he’d been a teenager. Even at rest, it seemed half-hard -- and he’d swear it was bigger. He’d swear it. And his balls seemed fuller, too - -of course, they were working for the first time in years. Hell, Wilson figured he’d killed his balls off decades ago, putting himself through the kind of cycles he had when he’d been a competitor. But now, it seemed everything was back online. He didn’t try to show it off, but he felt like his cock was obvious in everything he wore -- and he liked it. He fucking liked EVERYTHING! ********************************************************* Here they were, the next Saturday evening, back on Jonas’ patio in Malibu. “So you like it so far?” Jonas asked. “Ready for the second dose?” “I love it!” Wilson cried happily. “Bring it on!” So Jonas set-up the second of the four IV-pouches, finding Wilson’s vein a little more easily than before. Wilson was delighted by the whole thing. “So the first dose reset your internal organs and systems, at the least -- in some cases, probably started the regeneration of some things -- but this next dose will be a little more obvious externally.” “In what way?” Wilson asked, watching the flow of liquid head down the tube. “Just like with growth hormone, the decrease of visceral fat -- you know, fat on internal organs. You’re gonna lean out like you were in a competition, but you don’t have to worry about diet. Lean and hard!” Wilson laughed. “I’m already hard!” Jonas laughed, too. “So I see. You just wait.” ********************************************************* With the second bag empty, Wilson was pleased that he didn’t feel as nauseous this time. But he did feel warm. Feverish, almost. “How you feelin’?” Jonas asked, disconnecting the IV. Wilson seemed to search for the right word. “Hot,” he mumbled. “Like a fever…” Jonas felt his forehead. “Yup. C’mon,” Jonas said, indicating Wilson to follow him, “let’s get on the stationary bike.” Wilson reluctantly climbed on the bike -- he was dizzy from fever -- he slid his feet into the straps. “I don’t think…” Jonas smiled. “You don’t need to think, Willy. I got you covered. Right now, you just need to pedal. Can you pedal for me?” “Yeah…” Jonas pressed a button on the bike’s console and the pedals started moving, forcing Wilson’s legs to move with them. “You got a terrible fever,” Jonas said into Wilson’s ear. “You gotta burn it out.” “Okay…” And so he pedaled. And pedaled. And Lord how he sweat. Delirious, he lost track of time and place. Jonas had thrown a towel over his head and that wiped out Wilson’s awareness. He pedaled and sweat, pumped and dripped. Occasionally, his exhaustion would slow him, his delirium would disorient him, but then he’d hear Jonas from somewhere saying, “Keep pedaling, Willy,” and he’d obey. He couldn’t reason enough to resist. Finally, hours later when the fever broke, he passed out -- he felt himself collapse on the bike’s console. But he was also aware of someone dragging him somewhere and laying him down. That same someone squeezed his rock hard cock and kissed his forehead. Wilson heard, “Go to sleep, Willy.” And he did. ******************************************************** He woke the same way as he had the week before: morning wood — throbbing, insistent morning wood. The only difference was this time there was a mouth on it, someone swallowing his big erection to the root. Wilson opened his eyes to see Jonas’ head bobbing up and down on his swollen cock. Wilson intended to lean his head back and shut his eyes, but by then he’d seen his own abs. His own abs! He was lean -- like, competition lean -- no, better than he’d been in competition! Wilson hadn’t competed in over thirty years -- some would argue that he’d gone to seed in that time -- but to look at his body in the morning sun, his abs flexing with each deep breath he took, following the tempo of Jonas’ rhythm, you’d think he was a sun-tan away from the Stage. “Oh my god, look at me!” he said, feeling his own torso with his hands, tweaking his own nipples (and even his nipples were pert and sensitive). He flexed a double-bi. “Look at me!” And with that, he shot his load, filling Jonas’ mouth and throat with a spectacular amount of cum. ********************************************************* It was really just the start of the process. For the remainder of the week, Wilson lost even more body-fat -- by the following Friday, his waist had tightened to an unimaginable thirty inches! Wilson was pretty sure the last time his waist was thirty inches was in Middle School, nearly fifty years ago. Even as a bodybuilder in his prime, Wilson had a roid gut, his abs pushed out by his swollen liver and internal organs. But over the course of the week, his roid gut became a lean, but densely muscled core. It accentuated his upper-body’s V-shape as well as the thick mass of his thighs. Part of him wanted to wear the same kind of tights he saw on those hot muscle boys -- as it was, Wilson’s legs were bigger than any two of them put together -- but he found himself a victim of the same insecurities he’d always had. “Get the fuck over yourself,” he laughed. “You could seduce every one of those boys if you’d change your stupid attitude.” He was actually starting to believe that. Maybe it was just his relentless good mood. But how could you not be in a good mood when your hair was growing back in? Oh yeah, that was the other thing. Sure, he was working out for hours a day, recuperating more and more quickly, losing body-fat while gaining muscle, but he was also regrowing his hair! It’s true! His bald head had sprouted a new growth, a new harvest of hair. He thought he’d made peace with being bald, but the renewed growth of hair on his head gave him a sense of elation even greater than the continued growth of his penis, or the fullness of his balls. Looking at himself in the mirror -- and how he was loving what he saw -- even his sensational abs couldn’t keep his focus. Every line in his incredible torso led the eye to his substantial package. But not Wilson’s — his eyes were drawn to the hair growing back on his head. His beard, which last week was completely white, was now two-thirds white, the odd reddish-brown hue of his youthful beard fighting its way in. For a man nearing sixty, Wilson looked middle-aged. Wrapped in a towel, as he made his way to the shower, the gang of muscle boys came in the locker room. Five of them, they were so beautiful -- youthful faces with these hyper-masculine bodies, over-developed muscle with the sizeable genitals they so proudly flaunted. Groomed to perfection, plucked and preened and peacock proud, they strutted in like they owned the place, all of them smiling and giggling and showing off. To Wilson, they were silly boys. Built, silly boys. Even feeling as good as he did, even looking as good as he was, Wilson felt intimidated by them. Like they were going to judge him and laugh at him. And dismiss him. But then, the unexpected happened. One of the boys made eye-contact with him, a beautiful Italian boy with black hair and sparkling blue eyes - lashes like Bambi. He made eye-contact with Wilson then quickly looked him up-and-down, then eye-contact again. He lifted his eyebrows and seductively smirked. Oh my god, Wilson laughed to himself. I just got cruised by one of them! In the shower, he jerked off thinking about it. ********************************************************* The third dose had really been the kicker, as far as Wilson was concerned. Even the burning nausea after the IV hadn’t been as bad, certainly not in comparison with the plusses. The morning after the third treatment, Wilson woke with a full head of hair, the same shade of auburn he’d had as a young man (not the glaring Opie-like red of his childhood)! Even his beard was now mostly reddish-brown -- overnight, he’d gone from a white beard with brown highlights to a brown beard with white highlights. Weirder still was that he lost all his body hair -- all the punishing old man hair, the ear hair, the back hair, the shoulder hair -- his leg hair and arm hair, too. Hell, even his ass was smooth -- baby smooth! He had the tiniest bit of pubic hair -- nothing on the genitals, themselves -- and his armpits had the same bare dusting. He considered shaving just to be done with it. His skin was smooth and flawless. As a redhead, his skin had been freckled and scarred from the sun -- the acne he had as a teen still left its mark -- but now, it was if his skin had regenerated (maybe it had!), as if it had started fresh. No wrinkles, no pock marks, no bags, no moles -- not even calluses on his hands! Studying himself in the mirror, he couldn’t attach an age to his face. Maybe forty -- maybe thirty-five and prematurely graying? Certainly not sixty -- and that was all that mattered. He was spending an insane amount of time at the gym, but his workouts felt so good he didn’t want to stop. His muscles kept growing, his waist kept tightening -- the pumps he got were nearly as good as sex -- and he felt so fucking amazing. He couldn’t help but flex in the mirror after a set, raising his shirt if he had to. He loved when he caught people looking, especially those boys… He was doing crunches at the end of his workout when he happened to spot Jonas on the far side of the gym, joking around with some old guy -- Wilson didn’t recognize the guy, but he was surprised to find himself the tiniest bit jealous. Did he have a thing for Jonas? “Forget about that guy,” a voice next to Wilson said, surprising him. Wilson glanced over quickly to see that muscular Italian Boy with the Bambi lashes squatting down next to him on the mat. He wore neon green tights and a white sleeveless t-shirt, his overly muscular arms exposed and pumped. When they made eye-contact, the boy smiled -- perfect, white teeth beneath soft, full lips. Wilson, still on his back, returned the smile and asked, “What are you talking about?” The boy nodded toward Jonas. “That guy, Jonas,” he said. “Forget it. He only goes for the old guys.” Wilson barked a laugh. “What?” “Seriously,” the boy said, “the old guys -- the really old guys -- the grandpas. You don’t stand a chance.” From the floor, Wilson offered the boy his hand. “Wilson,” he said. The boy shook it with both his. “Hi Wilson. I’ve seen you around. You’re super-hot…” Wilson waited for the inevitable “...for your age” but it never came. The boy just squatted there holding Wilson’s hand and grinning. Wilson prompted him. “And you are…?” The boy blushed. “Oh… duh. I’m Roddy.” “Roddy?” “HOT Roddy,” the boy said, laughing. The light sparkled in his blue eyes. “That’s my club name. I’m a go-go dancer!” “Of course you are,” Wilson chuckled — the kid was so sincere. Then, as Wilson started his next set of crunches, he glanced toward Jonas, who was still working the old man. The boy, Roddy -- Hot Roddy -- suddenly stepped over Wilson’s torso, straddling him. “What are you doing?” Wilson asked. The boy smiled, squatting slightly. “Keeping your attention,” he said, and began swaying his hips to some unheard beat. Go-go dancing. God, he was beautiful. In a move he hadn’t used since high school wrestling, Wilson sat up, taking the boy’s feet out from under him, put him on his ass and then rolled him back onto his shoulders, Wilson between the boys legs, his cock pressing right into the boy’s crack. Looking him straight in the eye, Wilson said, “Now you’ve got my attention.” The boy was breathless, flustered -- delighted. “My apartment is right upstairs,” he said. ********************************************************* They were making out before they got in the front door. Roddy was an amazing kisser -- passionate, hungry -- their connection had the desperate electricity of teen-aged horniness, randy and rowdy, but with the skill and ability of men far more experienced. For someone so young, Roddy knew a lot about giving pleasure -- and he gave it his all. Hairless and smooth, an over-developed upper body with lean, cut legs (though a beautifully bubbled ass) the Italian Boy (with the Bambi lashes) had soft, pink, puffy nipples, perfect for sucking. And it soon became apparent that Wilson’s beard gave the boy as much stimulation as his mouth had. The boy went absolutely crazy when Wilson ate out his pink, hairless hole -- it tasted fresh and clean. “Fuck me,” the boy begged. “Please fuck me!” Wilson’s dick -- now almost as much a shower as it was a grower -- was happy to oblige. The boy was able to take it -- after a little bit of work -- and they found a common rhythm in no time. They fucked for hours. ********************************************************* It turned out, Roddy WAS a dumbass, but he was so ridiculously sincere (and good looking) that Wilson was willing to put up with him for a while post-coitus. And the sex had been off the charts! He owed the boy something. “I like living here,” the muscleboy was saying as he snuggled against Wilson’s big pec. “It’s easy. All I gotta do is find the gym and I’m home!” “Do you get lost a lot?” Wilson teased, tracing a finger down the boy’s massive bicep. The boy’s smile faltered for a moment, like he was actually concerned about something, then the grin came back. “Not that often,” Roddy said, sincerely. “And my phone tells me, anyway. I just say, ‘City Gym’ into it and it takes me home -- it’s real easy.” He giggled. “Just like me!” Wilson laughed, too -- this kid couldn’t possibly be for real. “You make enough dancing to afford a two-bedroom apartment in this neighborhood?” “I used to have a roomate,” Roddy said. “He moved out -- I think he married some rich daddy.” “Is that the goal?” Wilson asked. “To marry some rich daddy?” “Not mine,” giggled Roddy, sliding on top of Wilson. “I’m not done being young.” With that, he licked his way down Wilson’s torso, following the grooves in Wilson’s abs, and took Wilson’s big cock in his mouth -- it was little work before the old man was ready to fuck again. ********************************************************* Wilson hadn’t realized he’d been at the gym all day until he glanced outside and saw the sun setting. He’d intended to come in and catch a little pump before heading over to Jonas’ house in Malibu, but it felt so good -- and his pump was so incredible -- he just kept going. Seeing the sun setting outside surprised him -- and even scared him a little. That meant he’d been in the gym for over ten hours -- and he wasn’t even tired. Just pumped. And ready. He drove to Jonas’ in his sweaty gym clothes and dirty jockstrap, his cock full and eager. He’d never in his life looked as good as he did right now and it was incomprehensible to him that he might get better. How? He was better built (and better looking) than Jonas -- and Jonas had gone through the cycle already. By the time he got to Jonas’ door, he was a kid at Christmas. Jonas’ reaction was everything Wilson wanted it to be, aghast and impressed -- Jonas’ cock immediately got hard. Wilson pulled off his shirt and started to flex, his 28” core rock solid and tight, at odds with his 53” chest and even bigger shoulders. Looking at his legs, it seemed possible that each of his quads was the same size as his waist. How could he even move? When he hit a double bi, Jonas fell on him and began worshipping. They didn’t make it out onto the patio until nearly midnight. ********************************************************* “Well, here we are,” Jonas said, “the fourth treatment. The Boy Bag!” Wilson laughed. “The what?” “The Boy Bag,” Jonas said, holding it up by the corner and shaking it. “The Fountain of Youth.” “Oh,” Wilson said, forcing a chuckle. “I get it.” “You think the other treatments have had an effect,” Jonas said, setting up Wilson’s IV, “wait’ll you get a load of this!” As usual, Wilson was mesmerized by the flow of the liquid into his bloodstream. After a minute or two, he asked, “What’s this one gonna do? I mean, dude, I’m already as big as you…” Jonas laughed quietly. “True, you’re as big as me -- bigger! And your cock is bigger than mine, too. Ok? You gotta trust me, Wilson. I’ve gone through this a few times.” Wilson was confused. “‘A few times’? What do you mean by…?” As he spoke, his hand twitched slightly -- he looked at it -- then it twitched again. “What’s going on?” Wilson asked. “Nothing bad,” Jonas said. “Don’t worry.” He sat down on the chair next to Wilson’s lounger. “Each treatment has focused on a different aspect of your rejuvenation, right? The first one regenerated your internal organs and hormonal systems, the second dealt with the removal of visceral body-fat and unwanted body-hair, the third took care of the skin, the regrowth of muscle and repopulation of hair follicles. This last one regenerates your nervous system -- you’ll find you’re going to be insanely sensitive.” Wilson’s other hand twitched -- the arm with the IV. Jonas motioned to it. “That’s gonna keep up while your nerves go through their thing. Best if I secure you while you got the IV in you. That cool?” Wilson’s feet began to move on their own -- it was like his limbs had the hiccups -- it was freaking him out a little. “Yeah,” he said, nervously. “Okay.” Jonas fetched heavy velcro straps from a cabinet nearby. Wilson watched his own limbs lay there lifeless, twitching like electric jolts were hitting him. Part of him wanted to get up, pull the IV out and run, but he wasn’t able to control his body. Now he was seriously getting scared -- whether he trusted Jonas or not. Jonas wrapped a strap around each of Wilson’s wrists, securing them to the arms of the lounge chair, then did the same to Wilson’s feet. Lastly, he took a very big strap and wrapped it around Wilson’s torso, velcroing him to the back of the lounge. The IV dripped away -- half-empty. “That’s better,” Jonas said, taking his seat again. “Now you won’t hurt yourself. How do you feel?” Wilson smiled nervously. “Scared,” he said. “I’d rather have the nausea.” Jonas snorted. “This is only tough for a minute, WAY better than the explosive shit on the first night!” They laughed together for a second, remembering. “I guess I should calm down,” Wilson said, even as his hands began twitching in earnest. “I mean, you’ve gone through this.” Jonas looked confused for a second, then shook his head. “Well... no,” he said. “Personally, I never did the whole cycle. I stopped at the third dose.” “What do you mean, stopped? Why? I thought you’d done this!” Jonas shook his head -- he seemed thoughtful. “No,” he said quietly. “See, the fourth treatment… regenerates the nervous system… and with it, the brain.” “So?” “So, it’s the nature of the formula to regenerate the organ -- make it new. So it tends to… wipe out a lot of what existed before. That’s why I didn’t want to do it -- I needed my mind intact.” He consoled. “Look, some stuff comes through okay, language skills.. Mostly. Intellectually, you end up on a third or fourth grade level. Some memory, not a lot. Interestingly, physical skills tend to remain -- like, you’ll remember how to work out, though you won’t really have to. You’ll be great at sports, dancing, any proprioceptive activity. And you’ll be amazing at sex…” “What the fuck are you talking about?” Wilson yelled, trying to fight the restraints -- trying to control anything having to do with his body. His beautiful body -- the body that was betraying him. “Make this fucking stop, man…!” His torso began to twitch and move as nerves reset and came to life. The bag was nearly empty. Jonas tapped it with his finger. “The Boy Bag,” he said. “That’s what I call it -- you’ll see. When we’re done, you’re gonna be a beautiful boy. My best one yet!” Wilson was starting to twitch hard -- Jonas sat on the edge of the lounge and held Wilson’s shoulders, securing him and looking in his eyes. “You’ve already fucked Roddy,” Jonas said. “He was one of my first -- and we’ve really improved the formula quite a bit since then.” “Roddy?” Wilson asked. “Hot Roddy? The boy?” Jonas laughed slyly. “That ‘boy’ is only nine years younger than you. Last year, when he was old man Rodney, he was a fat, fucking loser looking to have a heart attack. Now as Hot Roddy, he’s just about perfect. You will be, too. You should be happy, Willy. You’re the oldest test case we’ve processed so far and you’re exceeding our expectations by margins that you wouldn’t believe. Very promising -- I’m excited to get through this.” “Those boys?” Wilson asked, having difficulty forming his thoughts. “Those boys are all…?” “Old men,” Jonas said. “Just like you. And by this time tomorrow, you’ll be just like them: a dim-witted but friendly whore who’s made a contribution to science. Thank you, Willy. You’re gonna make me a lot of money.” “No,” Wilson cried, unable to fight. “I don’t… want this…” Jonas laughed gently and kissed Wilson on the forehead. He stood up and watched as the last few drops dripped out of the IV bag. “Everybody gets what they want,” Jonas said, pretending to focus on the liquid. “You get eternal youth, a freakish cock, and I get another muscle guy in my stable -- a big, dominant top at that. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you, Willy. I promise you’ll be happy.” “Fucker!” Wilson barked. “Lying fuck!” “I never lied to you,” Jonas said, disconnecting the IV from Wilson’s arm. “And I’ll be honest with you now -- this transition isn’t gonna be so pleasant. The good news is, you won’t remember it, so just… bear with it as best you can. I’ll keep an eye on you.” Jonas went back into the house, leaving Wilson strapped to the lounge chair on the deck overlooking the ocean. He thought about screaming, but thinking suddenly seemed to cause him pain. Everything caused him pain. White pain. Blinding, white pain behind his eyes, obscuring his vision. It fried and reconnected every nerve ending throughout his entire body -- it swelled and bloomed and revealed onion-like layers of agony until he felt his head would explode. His body arched in the chair as his spinal cord conducted the lightning that completely fried him. By the time it ended, he was already unconscious -- and time wasn’t a concept anymore. ********************************************************* Hot Roddy came out of the locker room wearing only a wrestling singlet under a baggy t-shirt, his magnificent ass showcased in the spandex, so tight the thong Roddy wore was obvious beneath the material. Roddy did love to dress the part. He’d gotten a text from Jonas to meet him at the gym. Roddy knew where the gym was, right downstairs! And Roddy would do anything Jonas told him to do -- deep inside, Roddy knew Jonas had somehow made Roddy hot. And sexy. And a go-go dancer! And Roddy was super-grateful! So if Jonas wanted Roddy to meet him at the gym, well, that was right downstairs! Roddy was stretching on the mat when Jonas walked in, followed by the most beautiful muscle boy Roddy had ever seen. A tall guy with bright orange hair -- the sides shaved down to a tight buzz leaving the top long, sweeping -- and a full, brown beard. (He was lucky to have so full a beard at such a young age — it made him look more grown-uppy. Besides, Roddy thought beards were super-sexy, especially the way they felt on his hairless hole!) The beard was meticulously groomed and oiled, as perfect as the guy’s eyebrows and haircut. He was insanely muscular, way bigger than any other guy in the gym -- he wore these cotton/spandex stretch jeans that hugged his legs like tights, showing off the mass of his quads, cuffed just below his over-sized calves, ankle-high boots. But the real sight was his package, massive and surreal, a porn-fantasy given life. He wore a scoop-neck long-sleeve t-shirt on top that would’ve exposed his whole deep cleavage but for the length of his beard. The bottom of the tee just barely covered the top of his package, hinting… hinting... The guy caught Roddy looking and smiled, the light catching his beautiful green eyes and beginning to dance. Obviously, he liked to be looked at. “Hot Roddy!” Jonas said, suddenly in Roddy’s face, hugging him. Roddy hugged Jonas back, but continued to look at the big redhead. “Hi, Jonas,” he said, smiling. “Who’s your friend?” “Roddy! I’ve solved your roommate problem! This is Willy -- he’s looking for a place to live!” “It’s Big Willy,” mumbled the big red-headed hunk to Jonas. “You said I get to be called Big Willy!” Proudly, he looked at Roddy and said, “It’s a joke, cuz my dick is so big!” Roddy looked. “It sure is,” he said, smiling. Willy leaned in, conspiratorially. “It’s a shower AND a grower,” he said, grabbing it with his big hand. Roddy said, already getting an erection, “I live right upstairs.” A smile broke out on Willy’s face. “You live at the gym?” he asked. “For reals? Man, I would love to live at the gym!” Roddy laughed. “It’s super-easy! And if you get lost, you just say, ‘where’s the gym?’ and you find your way back every time! It’s great!” They laughed together, giggling like school girls. “You wanna see the apartment?” Roddy asked, with a teasing tone. “Yeah, I do,” Willy said, reaching up under his shirt and stroking his hard core. “I’d love to live at the gym.” Roddy turned to Jonas. “Jonas, can we go see it?” Willy laughed, clapping Jonas on the shoulder. “Jonas said I’m gonna make movies!” Willy announced. “I’m gonna make show-off movies and sexy-flexy videos and pose in front of guys for money. If I live at the gym, I can be pumped all the time! Can I, Jonas? Can I live at the gym, Jonas? Can I live with Roddy and be ready to flex all the time?” Jonas smiled. “Of course you can, big boy. Live wherever you want — I want you to be happy! Roddy, take him upstairs and show him your place.” “Okay!” beamed Roddy, grabbing Willy’s hand and fairly skipping out to the elevator. “C’mon!” They left together, laughing. Jonas watched them go -- he smiled. Turning to one of the old men entering the locker room, Jonas followed him, saying, “Hey, hot daddy… woof...” The old guy smiled back. Jonas had him hooked before he jerked the guy off in the sauna -- this one was gonna work out even better.
  7. 2 points
    You can be my grand muscledaddy any time amigo!
  8. 2 points
    super sexy story. It reminds me of a number of roleplays I've done.
  9. 2 points
    Ahem! *I* became a Granddaddy in November, thank you very much! And I couldn't be happier! She's a doll! I always told my kids that, yes, of course, I *wanted* grandkids, being baby-obsessed as I am, but it was totally up to them. On the other hand, I saw no need to become one BEFORE age 60 -- and June Elizabeth arrived when I was 59 1/2! Also, here's what (one version) of 60 looks like. I really think I could be doing a lot worse!
  10. 2 points
    As long as I don't become a Grand-DADDY!!!!
  11. 2 points
    If I had to compile a list of personal favorites, KAKE & PEKKA would top it. As a concept piece, it's one of the stories I'm most proud of. I had a "guy wakes up in TOM OF FINLAND world" story floating around in my head for several years. It wasn't until I read Tom's KAKE cartoon collection that I conceived the plot. KAKE & PEKKA is chock full of ToF references -- plus it's narrated in Second Person! It's not the best known of my work -- almost the fewest number of reads -- but it's still something I hold up proudly and say, "I got it right this time!"
  12. 2 points
    Ok, so, first story…. I’ve been thinking about writing one of my own for a while but haven’t had the guts to do it until now. I apologize if there are errors in syntaxes, at school teachers don’t really specialize on cursing or sexual interaction. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 1 Well, it all first started pretty simple, when you think about it, most things usually do. First things first, name´s Christian, Chris for friends (if any). I’m a med student, top student but average in other aspects: 5’9’’, not athletic but not slim, hairy and I love it, and…. gay. However, schedules don’t really help my love life, nor my physique. That’s really frustrating since I’m attracted to muscular guys, but an average guy doesn’t attract much attention. I do get an occasional hook up, usually guys who are into hairy guys, but not anyone I yearn for. Then came one fateful afternoon. I got a call from an old friend. I was actually taken aback at first, and really tempted not to answer at first. You see, Jim, who I had once considered my best friend, hadn’t called me for at least 5 years. So, I was really surprised to hear his voice when I picked up the phone: -Hey Chris! What’s up man! -Well, life goes on you know? But I doubt you can notice that… -Come on, I know I’ve been a bad friend… -You can say that again -Jeez, I forget how ironic you can be when you’re mad. -Jim, anything else you wanna talk about besides my sarcasm? It’s already annoying having you talking to me as if it was yesterday when we last saw each other, but, it’s been 5 years. Five fucking years Jim! Where were you when I needed you the most?! -Easy man, I know I deserve this and more… -Really? -Let me talk, just as you tell other people -Fine – I hate when I’m stuck with my own morality – What do you want? -As I was saying before Mr. Resentful interrupted me, don’t say a word Chris –damn, he’s still got that ability to know when I will protest even before I try–, I know I’ve probably been the worst of friends. And I wanna make it up to you, or at least try. -Go on… -I know you’re a fan from Scheherazade’s stories. So, when I travelled to the Middle East… -You didn´t even leave the country! Filming a documentary in a Moorish building doesn’t count… -Shut up and listen man, you’ll make me loose the point. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted -he said this with a playful smirk while I could only turn my eyes on him-, in my journey I found a picturesque scenery for my film. As I was about to enter a local café, my attention was drawn to an old woman who was selling junk in the street. At first, I thought it would be the classical useless stuff and when I was about to leave, the old woman asked me: -Looking for something in particular young man? -Not really, I’m just filming here, and all this scenery reminded me of a friend. -Oh, I see. Good friend of yours? -Him? Absolutely! Me, well I’ve neglected a little -that’s when I almost killed him with my eyes-, …fine, I’ve neglected a lot our friendship. Would you let me continue instead of enjoying this “I am totally right” moment??!! -Sorry -I said with a malicious smile. I won’t deny I was enjoying where this was going. After clearing his throat, he continued: …and when I saw you I thought you might have something my friend would like. He’s a fan of the One Thousand Nights, maybe I could find an “I’m sorry present” for him. -Are you really sorry young man? -I truly am, I know actions speak louder than words, and I’ve really been inactive. That’s my major problem, and the main reason I want to do something to make it up to him! At this point, I wouldn’t have cared if he got me something or not, his speech was heartbreaking, at least from my point of view. -Interesting. I may have something that fits him. What can you tell me about your friend? It will make it easier to find the right choice. -Well, Chris is a really nice guy. Always taking care of people and, as he says, “trying to make people see their true potential”. I don’t know how he manages that though. But, as a matter of fact he’s been hurt for that same reason several times, as people don’t appreciate him. They take him for granted, just as I did… -I’ve got to admit Chris, I told her that with a lot of remorse, but let me continue- -Have you ever read Mardrus’ version of Scheherazade? -Nope, probably Chris has. -No wonder why this place reminded you of him. Well, as a matter of fact, it is said that Mardrus’ version is actually pretty accurate, as Scheherazade did live among us a long time ago. Obviously, he made changes to the story and he never found out everything -that’s when she got out this little box-. May I present you the magic ring that once belonged Scheherazade. You won’t find this story anywhere, as only Scheherazade, in her wisdom, kept many secrets from the world. As you know, Scheherazade was a young woman who told stories every night to her king, as she wished to save the women in her kingdom, as the king married a new wife every night and executed her in the morning as a punishment for his first wife, the late queen, who had cheated on him. The detail that no one has ever talked about is this magic ring. It is said, that Scheherazade asked the magic ring for a solution to stop the executions. As a result, she acquired the knowledge to tell amazing stories and devised the well-known plan. -Wow! Does it really work? -Of course, young man. There’s a requirement though: the person who attempts to use the ring must acquire it fair and square, have a pure heart and have a strong will. If not, the ring will lose its power forever. -Incredible! That would be an awesome gift! Can it really do that? But how? -Have a strong will, think about what your heart desires and it will come true. But if it doesn’t, it was a very nice story, wasn’t it? So, if you’re interested, it would be $20.00 young man. -And that’s how I got your gift! -Ok…… I’m not really sure about it though. Besides, how are you sure it will fit? -Oh come on, you are the person with the strongest will I know. You never gave up, not after all the troubles you’ve had: mean classmates, that crazy girl that stalked you, …the loss of your parents. Come on man! At least try it on! It’s blue…. Your favorite color… That was the moment when I opened the little box he was giving me. It contained a silver ring with a blue stone, a sapphire maybe, or at least intended to be one. It had writings all over it, seemingly in Arabic. It looked nice, and I couldn’t name it, but I felt a connection to the ring. Wait a minute, a connection?! What was I thinking?! It was a weird moment, but then I tried it on. To my surprise it was the perfect size, just as if it was custom made. -See? I told you it would fit. Are you going to wish something? -The only thing I wish right now is that you and I go out and have some fun. The evening wasn’t remarkable: movies, dinner, a few beers. By the end of the night Jim had completely forgotten about the magical ring stuff. I, on the other hand, was giving it a serious thought from time to time. I’m not going to lie, as an avid reader of course I has read Mardrus’ version of the One Thousand and One Nights, or The One Thousand Nights and One Night to be more precise. It was a very interesting approach to a classic tale. But if it was true, there were a few things I had really given a thought to wish for if a chance like this would appear. I found myself arriving home thinking about this. The bright side of being an orphan is that you have all the place for yourself. Don’t get me wrong, I practically raised all by myself. Both my parents worked, so I was left alone at home after school. I learnt how to spend time by myself, even though I really cherished the time with my parents. When they both died at the accident, well, it was as if they had permanently gone to work. I do miss them, but I was already used to be alone before they died. When I arrived home, I hurried to leave all my stuff I had. Still with the ring in my hand, I went to my room in front of the full-body mirror I have. One of my biggest and wildest dreams is to be a muscular guy, a pretty muscular guy. However, I don’t want to lose control or get permanently too big I can’t go back a little. So, a while ago I had came up with a plan: if I ever got the chance to wish for something, it would be to have the power to alter my body in any way I want, as well other people’s bodies with a little bonus: I decide who gets to know a change has taken place, that is if I wish to get as big as Craig Golias I would be able to do so and everyone around me would think I had always been that big, unless I wished otherwise. With that in mind, I closed my eyes and thought: if your power is real (and I really want to believe it is) please grant my wish: to be able to change my body and anyone’s body for that matter in any way I want just by thinking it but apart from me, no one can remember the changes ever occurred, and only if I want, certain people will notice the changes. At first nothing happened, but then, there was a bright blue glow coming from the ring. I could only think: Yes! Finally! Something nice has happened! Part 2 I couldn’t believe it. There were so many things going in my mind: first of all, did I really have a strong will and a pure heart? Apparently so, as for the glow the ring gave a few moments ago, its magic had worked. Believe me, people mess up with your mind when they try to hurt you. That moment really cheered me up, I wasn’t the bastard I had been led to believe. Secondly, oh my, I can’t wait to try my powers! Where shall I begin? My first goal: be 7 feet tall. But how was I supposed to do it? The powers didn’t come with an instruction manual. Think Christian, think…. That’s it! Think! I started to think how amazing it would be to be 7ft tall, to be able to look above most people’s head. That’s when I felt it: I felt how my balance was changing and saw the floor from a higher view. And oh reality, my mirror wasn’t 7ft tall, I would miss everything! Unless… I wish the walls of my room had big mirror each covering them. A blue smoke appeared, and my wish came true. This was easy, maybe it would be useful to do other stuff…. In the meantime. Now I could see myself from every angle. Ok, let’s start. 5% fat…. Wow, so that’s why everyone at the gym said I had the shape for bodybuilding, let’s take advantage of that. But some other things first: full beard, no scars on the face, baritone voice, shoulder-length hair and more hair in the chest and in my treasure trail. By the way, full clothes on, though now my t-shirt and pants seemed small. To think I’m not half from done… Ok, let’s make it to size 48 without putting muscle, just bone structure. Now, a ten pack…. Oh yes that feels good, a brick wall. More shredded… yes, totally loving to feel the grooves between my abs. now, remain all the way long with a 30in waist. Mmmmm loose jeans…. Not for long. Bubble butt, bigger, that’s it (oh yes, I can be a total bottom) and able to take any dick but at the same time, as tight as possible. Now the front: 12in soft and 8in wide, also in a soft state, proportional when fully erect. Ops, on my way to find out which proportions will be. Focus, focus, pomegranate-size balls, able to produce a gallon of cum with orgasm. Oh my it’s getting harder to focus but I can make it. Before I completely loose it: I wish this ring fits me no matter the physical changes I go through. With that checked, where were we? Oh yes, restraining jeans. Tree trunks, so big it gets difficult to get my ankles together. All the leg muscles de….. oh yes….. defined, sartorius muscle visible, diamond cut… ugh calves Rrrrriiiippp, there go jeans. I’ll get of my shoes for this one: feet size 15. Wow, new balance, I almost fell down. Impressive, if I may say so. Well taking the whole picture it looks ridiculous: pieces of jeans hanging for their lives to two impressive tree trunks, a bubble butt with boxers that now look like a thong and a big cock begging for release. All of this attached to a skinny broad-shouldered torso. Best for last. But first things first: cock release. So much pre, I shall resist the urge to drink it… that give me an idea, but for later. Now, big pecs, bigger, that they block my view, perfect. A glass can rest over them, and my shirt’s neck is so stretched it now gives a sexy view of the shelf I now own. Back. Big, awesome back, that puts any pro bodybuilder to shame. Big lats, as wings, that force me to have a permanent 45 degree angle. Talking of which: big biceps, 24in arms for starters, with triceps resembling hooves. Big hands, long fine fingers, able to manipulate a scalpel, but also able to crush anything I want. Also, smooth fingertips but a callous palm, to be intimidating at a hand-shake but capable of caressing a lover. Rrriiipp. That’s when I lost it: so much power, so much strength, so manly, I had to cum. The best and biggest orgasm ever, it felt like a thousand of a regular orgasm and that still feels short to describe. I could only feel myself flexing and cumming. My instructions were accurate: I was cumming about a gallon after every orgasm, it took about 50 shots to finish each orgasm. What I never took in consideration was that I tend to have 4 or 5 orgasms. It was a mess, a really manly mess. That’s when I had an idea: I wish for my cum to be nutritious, for anyone who drinks cannot starve by only drinking my cum. I want it to be delicious for everyone and, at the moment I desire, my cum will act as the best aphrodisiac ever. Well, right now I have a lot of cum to drink/clean. But I can also pump it directly from the source to my mouth. It’s gonna be a long night. Imagine how awesome this is going to be when I have sex and use my new powers. I can’t wait, but I’m also hungry. Bon appetit! ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Well, here’s my story for the time being. Hope you guys like it and have as much fun reading it as I had writing it. I hope to continue it soon. My exams area near so I’ll try to make time for writing. It’s my first story and my first post ever in this forum. I’m a little nervous about it. Any feedback will be appreciated!
  13. 2 points
    Just as promised, Friday has ended, but I’ve brought you the next part of A gift to remember. It’s nice to see people liked it, specially after a rough day. Enjoy! (Any mistake done, I blame the iPad and my lack of sleep ) Part 3 So, now I’m the 7ft tall masculine hunk of my dreams… now what to do? My cum was totally delicious, and with a little help from the ring I got everything clean again. With that taken care of, what shall I do now? I’m totally horny, but also want to talk to Jim about this. Besides, as far as I know I now possess an all-powerful ring… man I sometimes hate my own morality code. I’ll think about how to help other people after having a little fun first. Also, a 17in hard-rock cock is a little distracting at the moment. Let’s see… Grindr, here it is. Now, who do I want to come over? Decisions, decisions, who do I want to fuck with? First question, top or bottom? …I have an idea, where is he? After looking through several conversations here he is, Kevin: hot latino guy, copper skin, dominant, and the possibility to turn that 5’3’’ lean guy into a beefcake. This is gonna be fun. -Hey there! -What’s up man? Want more cock? -Maybe… just relaxing here at home and bored -Yeah right, you’re a total man-whore you know that? -Me? Yes, why shall I deny it. But you liked it, didn’t you? -Yes dude, it was totally awesome to fuck you -I’m still challenging you to hold yourself from cumming as long as you can while having your cock in my ass… and repeat at least 2 or 3 times -Little bitch, you don’t want me to be merciful, do you? -You’d be surprised… (and will be hehe) Want to come over or not? -Can I make you moan again by getting my cock inside you ass with just one thrust? -You promise to cum inside me? -Deal Now the awful wait before fucking begins, I just hope he comes. In the meantime, I’ll check my wardrobe. Hmf, the boxers don’t go up past my knees… right now a little impractical, but it’s getting me turned on. What a moron: I wish all my clothing fits comfortably and skin-tight. Now, before I get too excited, I’m taking off the ring and keep it in a safe place. Except from Jim, I don´t want anyone else to know about it. Also, I don’t want to depend a lot on it. Before he arrives, let’s get dressed. Wow, this magic is amazing, it barely goes up, but it doesn’t rip. So soft and tight. Now jeans…. As usual, these things are more difficult than they seem. I can barely get my feet inside the jeans, and my cock doesn’t get enough room at the front. Cool, I’ve always wanted to squeeze my cock through the leg of a trouser. That thought had a side effect when I pulled up the zipper: a python started crawling through my leg. Now the t-shirt: god, the cloth fibers are hanging on for their dear life to my pecs, delts and bis. Wow, even the v-neck looks hot, all the way down showing my hairy chest. At last but not least, just for a little fun, a jacket. As I suspected, arms barely fit and it doesn’t go past my pecs. I was about to start jerking off myself when the doorbell rang. -Come in! It’s open! -Chris? You sound different… are you ok? -Just a “little” different, I hope you’re not too surprised. -Why would I be sur… whoa! Who the hell are you and what did you do to Chris, you behemoth!?! -Kev, relax for a moment…-I said while I grabbed his shoulder, I could sware I saw a hard-on in his pants- look at me carefully -Chris?!? But how?! -This is going to be fun, but I don’t want to break his mind- -Let’s not worry about that right now, come on and kiss me -But… That’s when I planted my lips on his. No one h ever complained about my kisses, it’s exactly the opposite. Everyone wants more. It’s just about going a little deep, and a lot of passion. Like I always say, try to do an endoscopy with your mouth. However, this process wasn’t easy being 7ft tall and crouching to 5ft. Also, I want him to remember the whole process, but I don’t want to go too fast, at least not at the beginning. While he started to put his arms around my bull-neck, I tried to concentrate to make him taller at a slow pace. I say try because I was starting to get lost in those almond eyes that looked at me with lust and desire. I slowly started to straighten up my body as his got bigger. -Man, I really enjoyed that kiss. I’m getting you undressed stud. But what….. I’m looking you in the eye now?! -Kev, relax and enjoy. You always wanted this, didn’t you? -he just nodded- Then leave logic behind and tell me what is your desire. -I want a blowjob, to face-fuck you and try to chalk you with my cock. -Your wish is my command. By the way, I can be a cock-driven slut when I want to, and right now all I crave is cock, big, fat delicious cock. I got on my knees and got started. I heard a little moaning, but I also had other plans…. While I was sucking cock I started to picture it bigger and wider. It felt great to accommodate such a big mushroom in my mouth. At the same time the moaning coming from Kev got louder, I was going well. I decided that, for the moment, I would leave him at the 15in mark. That’s when he started to be the dominant Kev I like: he grabbed my head and pushed it all the way in. I almost chalked but took it, I could only feel it making its way toward my esophagus. -Yet this big but still a professional cock sucker. We’re not done yet you know? I’m breeding you until I’m satisfied. Yeap, dominant Kev was getting over rational Kevin. I’m not complaining though. Just making adaptations to get all that cock and being able to breathe, suck and enjoy. You’d think in all this process I left Kev a tall skinny pole? Absolutely not. When I felt his cock stopped getting longer, I gave him a bubble butt I could easily grab. That only got him more excited, gotta hurry. Now, big balls the size of pomegranates able to produce one or two gallons of sweet cum with each orgasm. Not sooner had I thought of that when I felt the warm cum going down my throat at an accelerated pace. -I’m not done yet Chris, you became the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, now you get all the cum I can give you. He came again and again. I could only feel my belly growing. I guess I have a roid-gut now, or should I say a cum-gut hehe? I don’t know how long we were like that, but at some point he pulled out. That’s when stood up and started kissing him, getting all messy with the cum. After a few kisses, he pushed me against the wall, grabbed my by the neck gently but firmly at the same time and said: “Time to open those legs for me stud". No sooner said than done, we were on my bed, I was on my back with my legs wide open giving Kevin a perfect view of my hole. -I didn’t think it was possible, but it looks tighter than the last time, ready Chris? He hadn’t even finished the sentence when I felt all his monstrous cock all the way inside me, I could only squeak in pain an start moaning in pleasure. -Oh yes! So fucking tight! Such a big ass with such a tight hole! You like it? -I was drooling and could only nod in approval- I asked if you liked it! -and with that question he pushed himself all the way in, until all of his cock was engulfed by my ass and I was starting to see stars. All what came out of my mouth was a loud moan- That’s more like it Chris, moan for me! Here’s when my plan comes to life and Kevin’s body begins to change: a perfect V-shape, with lots so wide he has to make a 45-degree with his arms too, delts like cannonballs, to continue only with powerful arms that are at least 30in wide. That magnificent torso has to be attached to a 28in waist, just o be continued by tree-trunks that have a 20in cock right in the middle. That’s right, I said 20in while he is still inside me. I cannot describe how amazing it felt a growing cock in my ass. Also, Kevin’s pounding became stronger with every new change. What began as a lamp-post fucking a muscle beast had turned into two muscle beasts fucking like animals. Now it was my turn to get some fun. I started moving my hips to get his cock even deeper, if that was even possible, grabbed the back of his head and started kissing him until, after a few minutes I got the response I was looking for: -Chris, I don’t know how you fucking do it, but I wanna cum. You have such a grant ass and use it so well, that I don’t want this to end… Please Chris, a little long…… Ah fucking bastard! I’m cumming!!! Still got it, a few moves and gripping at the right moment to milk a top. The warm cum started to flow inside me and my gut just got bigger. I could see the ten-pack going further. After a long time, Kev finally finished. -Dude, you do it every time. I can’t last long inside you! Your ass is incredible! -Tell me something I don’t know Kev…. You know I like to milk tops with my ass. -But who says I’m done with you? -I’m not saying that by any chance. Ready for round 2? -Of course man! Just do me a favor, get all that cum out of your ass and let me see it. I got on my belly and gave Kevin a perfect view of my ass. I started taking out all that cum. All I could hear was Kev moaning and encouraging me to continue. I turned around a little and saw Kevin jerking off furiously. I resumed my task and suddenly felt the full weight of Kevin on my back at the same time I felt full again. I let out a long loud moan. -Bastard, couldn’t resist shoving all the way…. agh… right….agh…… in, could you? -You know what I like. And now that I’m as big as you, you’re mine, you know that? -he said while grabbing my hair and pushing deeper into my ass. I was shivering with all that pleasure. I also gripped his cock as hard as I could- Oh, Chris wants to play dirty? He grabbed my shoulders and started pounding my ass again, in and out, all the way out, only to get it all back in at a fast pace. I was drooling, almost totally gone from an overwhelming pleasure. He turned me around and, while still fucking me, engulf my cock. That’s when I lost it: I started cumming. Stream after stream down Kevin’s throat. He was now getting a gut attached to yah small waist. I also began to feel the warm cum inside my ass. I lost track of time. And before I knew it, I fell asleep still impaled with a huge cock. Best sex ever, and it’s just the beginning…. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ That’s it for now guys, I’m probably getting more plot for the next time, specially what will Chris do besides having sex and be top next time (not that I would complain if I were in his place). Maybe I'll get him to talk to his crushes and try to make a move on one of them. Hope you enjoyed and see you next time!
  14. 1 point
    Here is the second part of Camjerk. I hope it's as good as you expect! Please let me know what you think, even if it sucks. Part 1 ______________________________________________ My cock twitched, and I felt a surge of cum shoot into the shaft and launch from the tip into the air, landing on my keyboard, and then more spurts, hitting my face, my shirt, and even more on the keyboard. I shot volley after volley, until it was just dribbling down and onto my hand. I sat there, out of breath, panting, looking at my dick as the remnants of my cum-fest drooled down my hand and my dick. That was a huge load, surprisingly so, after the load I already blew so short of a time ago. I looked back at the screen on my desk, and there he was, the person responsible for my ejaculation. My heart was thumping in my chest. I didn't know how to respond to him. But then it occurred to me that he had the wrong person. He must have me confused with someone else. That's gotta be it. There's no way he's my neighbor. I finally removed my hand from my dick. Everything was a mess, but at this point, I was fully invested in this dude. Nothing would stop me from enjoying this. But what do I say? I wanna see more, and if I tell him he's surely thinking of someone else, he might disappear. But he spoke first. "Dude, you there?" He was simply sitting there now, a concerned look on his face. I didn't like how I couldn't see his entire body anymore, but it was still so hot seeing him from the abs up. His arms were bulging, and he wasn't even flexing. His pecs were jutting out, nipples pointing down, and they had such hot pec cleavage. His abs were clenching as he would lean forward and back in his chair. His obliques were prominent, too. So fucking hot. "Dude?" He called for me again. I looked at his face and he was so cute. He looked worried. I let out a sigh, and I guess I had to say something. Me: i'm here. "Oh okay, you had me worried there for a sec," he said. "Thought maybe you logged off." Me: no i'm here. "Well then don't leave me hangin' dude! How 'bout it? Wanna come over?" He was smiling, and his traps were bulging. I don't know if he was flexing them on purpose, but they were looking pretty big just then. And I felt my dick beginning to plump up again. But I had to come clean. Me: I have to be honest with you, i don't think i am who you think i am, i have no private info in my profile and there's no way you could know who i am. you mustve gotten lucky with my name. It was harder for me to care about my typing and spelling with my hands still covered in jizz. But I'm guessing he didn't mind my less formal style. "No, Mike, I know exactly who you are. I've passed you in the hall a bunch of times and I think you're hot. And uhhh... I hope you don't get mad but... funny thing about ground floor apartments is I can see inside your place. I swear I was just trying to learn more about you to see what you like, and I happened to catch you on this site. Sooo I decided to make my own account and hoped you would join my room." What. The. Fuck. He fucking watched me looking at dudes on this site? Which means he most likely watched me jerk off, too. "Please don't be mad, dude." What the fuck do I say? I mean, I'm definitely putting up better goddamn window treatment, for sure. I looked around and had to make sure no one was watching me this second. I sighed. I looked back at my computer screen and saw his cute face. All the anger I was initially feeling washed away. Well, his cute face AND his big bulging muscles made me rethink my emotions. Me: ok prove to me you know i am who i am. what do i look like? He grinned. "You're about 7 feet tall, have a mullet and a beard, and you like to dance naked listening to Toby Keith." I couldn't help but laugh at the last part. He had to be joking. And then he chuckled. "I'm kidding. You're around 6 feet tall, you have hair kind of like mine... wavy, but a darker brown. Not long, but not exactly short, either. Green eyes. Kind of athletic looking, but hard to tell because you often stay pretty covered up. The few times I've seen you wear shorts your lower legs look pretty thick. You tend to wear button-down shirts, and I believe you were wearing one even today when I saw you earlier." He stopped, keeping that smile on his face. Fuck, though. He was right. And I was wearing a button-down shirt today. Me: how'd you know about the Toby Keith thing? He laughed. "Well, guess I got lucky with that. But dude, was I right about the rest of it?" Me: yeah, i guess you do know who i am "Awesome! So, then, how about it?" Me: i guess this is all a bit too surreal though, i mean how could i believe a dude who can literally grow muscle and get huge would just happen to live in the same building as me AND want to meet me? "Dude you just watched it happen multiple times, and as for seeing how real I am, I guess you'd have to come over to find out." He winked. I pondered the situation for a few seconds. My heart was pounding, in truth. I knew already that I wanted to go meet him, to see how real this all was. Watching him grow in person would be infinitely better than just seeing it on a screen. But I also wanted to have some additional fun, first. Me: alright i think i might just take you up on that offer. but first... I sent that message, and I watched him read it. He sat in that chair, reading his screen, and I was still in awe looking at his muscled body. His round, bulbous shoulders rose and fell as he breathed, his arms bulging at his sides. His triceps really stood out, and it was so hot seeing how much they bulged and how I could see them even from the fronts of his arms. And they still had that vascularity, both arms had a prominent vein running down each that really stood out. "But first what?" he said, but immediately after that there was that telltale "DING" noise. I tipped him again. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. His dick was only semi-hard now, but I expected it to grow and harden soon. He grinned. "So you do want me even bigger, huh? Watch." Just hearing him speak now was making my dick harden up again. He stood, arms at his sides, and I watched as his abs clenched. "Ohhh yeah..." he moaned a little. His pecs started to inflate some more, pushing out, growing bigger and bigger. His obliques became even more prominent, really making that V line stand out even more. That V line was so hot. And fuck, his abs. I watched as two new bricks etched themselves out, and he had a perfect 8 pack. He flexed into a double bicep, and I watched his arms rise up into huge boulders. "Watch this," he said. My dick throbbed. He turned around so his back was facing the camera, and holy FUCK. His back was a sight to behold, now covered with muscle. His arms still flexed, I watched them growing and throbbing, pulsing bigger and bigger with each of his heartbeats. "Unnghhhh!" I heard him moan, and his lats were widening more. His wings were flaring, and his V-taper was becoming more and more pronounced. "Oh fuck yeah, this feels so fucking good, dude!" And wow, I've never noticed glutes before, but with his back to me, I could see his ass growing. I could actually see the striations in his ass muscles, and he was even flexing them occasionally. I watched them bulge and contract as they grew. My dick was throbbing so hard, and oozing pre again. AGAIN. His ass was so amazing to look at, and I just wanted so badly to... well, I had to be honest with myself. I wanted to fuck him. "AHH!" My attention snapped back to his growth and I saw him suddenly shoot upward another inch in height. "Oh fuck yeah," he said, softly. FUCK. And his legs were swelling. He dropped his arms and turned back around, and I saw his arms hanging at an unbelievable angle from his body. Those lats were huge, even unflexed. I could now see his quads again as they grew, each head of the muscle clearly defined. His legs were pressing into each other now, and he had to widen his stance. And then... "Ahhhhh" he mostly sighed, and I watched his amazing dick starting to harden. It pulsed bigger and bigger and BIGGER, growing in time with his heartbeats, until it was standing up and hard as a steel pipe. And then it continued growing, thicker and longer. "Fuck yes, I love when my dick grows..." he said. His dick grew at least another two inches longer, and amazingly thick, and it was even beginning to leak pre. He flexed into a most muscular, and even growled a little for me. "Grrrrr!" I didn't even have my hand on my dick, and I came. I exploded. My dick suddenly throbbed harder than I'd ever felt before, and a huge volley of hot white cum shot out and straight up, so high it almost hit the ceiling, but dropped back down and splashed onto my keyboard. And then another shot, hitting my chin. It splattered all over. And then several other shots that continued coating my computer area with my spunk. I relaxed and just let it happen until it was just a slow dribble running out of my tip and down my shaft. He continued flexing on camera the whole time I was cumming, seemingly aware that I had reached my limit of sexual arousal. Or maybe not. I'm guessing flexing is what I'd do, too, if I'd just grown huge muscles, regardless of who was watching or what was going on. I was breathing hard, almost out of breath from my explosion. I could only sit there and watch him flexing those amazing muscles. But then he turned to the camera and walked back to his desk, pulling his chair back behind him and sitting down. Again, his frame took up considerably more space in the video shot than it had before. His shoulders were so wide now they were off the screen. He adjusted the camera upward since he was too tall to stay in the frame after that height increase. "So dude, did you enjoy that?" He said, smiling that smile. His face was even cocky, now. And that made this all that much hotter. Me: what do you think "Sweet! I did too, I love growing so fucking much. I bet you made a mess, huh?" I was becoming overly aware of how much of my spunk was everywhere. I'd probably have to buy a new keyboard altogether. I love how he already knew I loved watching him grow again, and what happened as a result. "So, how about it? You wanna come over?" he asked again. Me: hell yes i wanna come over "FUCK yeah!" he exclaimed. He even pumped his fists into the air. It was cute. It also made his arms flex, which was hot. "I'm on the next floor up in 2C. When can I expect you?" Me: uhhh as much as id like to run to your place right now, i think i ought to clean myself up first. ive made a big mess. give me some time? He laughed a hearty laugh. "Alright alright, but remember I know where you live so you better come over." He flexed his big gun right in front of the camera to emphasize his "threat," and then laughed some more. More of a giggle that time. And god, have I mentioned he was still cute, even as a muscle beast? Me: yeah i know where you live now too ill be there asap "Sweet, dude, can't wait!" He flexed a double bicep one more time, then clicked something with his mouse. The screen went blank and it said "The model is offline." I sighed. My dick was hardening, yet again, as I thought of going to see him for real. Plus that final flex he did before going offline made my heart flutter, too. FUCK! What was I waiting for?! I jumped out of my chair and started removing my clothes. They were covered in jizz. I used my undershirt to wipe off what mess I could from my desk and chair. I'd have to clean it all for real when I could, but I didn't want to waste any more time. I threw my clothes onto the floor near my hamper. I'd have thrown them in, but it just felt strange mixing them with my "normal" dirty clothes. Completely nude, I walked to my bathroom to shower. I didn't want to go see this dude all dirty and sweaty. I turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up. I looked into the mirror, and thought back to what he said about my being "athletic" looking. I guess my own time in the gym has paid off. I had a bit of a chest formed, pecs that were kind of full and pushing out. My arms weren't big or anything, but they were defined. I flexed an arm for myself, and I guess I could admit I had a nice ball of a bicep. And I did have abs, so there was that. Barely a 6 pack, but they were there. I looked down at my calves and remembered how he said I had "pretty thick" lower legs. Yeah, I guess my calves might even be my best muscle, really. I ran a lot, even before starting going to the gym on a more regular basis. I loved how they would bulge when I walked. I always thought big calves were sexy. Steam was permeating the air, and I realized the water was hot already. I flexed for myself once more, thinking about how great it must feel to grow. My dick twitched and started to grow a bit, but I went and adjusted the water temperature so I could shower. I stood in the shower, feeling the water washing over my body. My dick remained in a semi-hard state. My mind was picturing... wait, I never even got his name! Well, whatever his name is, I kept picturing and replaying in my mind the times that he grew on my computer screen. I had to keep refocusing on the task at hand; showering quickly. My dick kept twitching and pulsing, wanting to grow hard, and then I'd be tempted to jerk off again. No time for that. I washed all the jizz off my body, and made sure to shampoo my hair really well. I'm sure I got some cum there, too. And then the image of him when he was still skinny as a rail popped into my head. Watching him throw his head back as his shoulders broadened for the first time, and flexing his skinny arm and watching his bicep take form and swell. FUCK my dick was growing fast. Soon it was standing straight up. I shuddered, and kept my hands away from my dick as I rinsed off the remaining soap from my body. I hopped out of the shower, my dick bouncing as I did, and toweled off. I needed to get moving. I didn't want my "date", for lack of a better term right now, to be kept waiting. I went to my bedroom and quickly got dressed, pulling on a simple black T-shirt and cargo shorts. I went back to the bathroom and fixed my hair so it wasn't all over the place, and I couldn't help but notice that I did look pretty athletic. My shirt was hugging my body quite nicely. I never bothered to really check myself out, but my "date" made me start thinking about it when he said I looked athletic. I was actually really happy that the gym was doing me some good. I put my shoes on and left my apartment, being sure to lock the door behind me. I headed up the stairs, and then made my way to the end of the hallway where 2C was. My heart was thudding in my chest, pounding faster and faster as I approached the door. I wasn't sure what to expect. I mean, I had an image in my mind of what would be standing in the doorway when the door was opened, but this all seemed too surreal, like I was dreaming. I was so nervous. I took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. I couldn't believe what I saw when the door opened. It was him. But, it was... pre-transformation him. He was shorter than me, maybe around 5'9", and he was super skinny. "Hey," he greeted me, smiling. He was fully clothed again, wearing a black T-shirt, like mine, and another pair of red gym shorts. My mouth had to have been hanging open. I was expecting the muscle-bound guy who I saw on the Camjerk website! "Come in, dude!" he said as he stepped aside. I tentatively stepped forward, entering his apartment. His place was similarly laid out. The kitchen area was just inside the doorway, and beyond was the living room area. To the left was a short hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom. His place was pretty clean for a guy so young. I mean, I wasn't much older, but usually 21 year-olds aren't so focused on cleanliness. "I, uhhh, suppose you might be wondering why I'm this size again." I nodded. "Funny thing about my ability is when the source is cut off, I begin to shrink back to this size. Which is okay! I love to experience it over and over again." He grinned at me. That face... up close, and real... it was even cuter. He was so attractive. I felt my dick twitch. I started to wonder what his plan was, if he had one at all. Was he going to grow again for me? Was he going to have me on cam with him while he got tips from other people? I realized just then that I was making this awkward. I hadn't even said anything to him yet. "Yeah! I mean... I'm sure it does feel great. To grow, I mean," I finally blurted out. I was stuttering. "I'm Zach, by the way. I realized earlier that I never told you my name. Come on, let's go sit. Want anything to drink?" he asked. "Nah, man, I'm okay for now." "You sure? I've got beer, now that I'm old enough to buy it," he chuckled. I smiled, and laughed a little with him. "No, man, I'm good. For now, anyway." He gestured towards the sofa in the living room. It was pointed at a surprisingly large TV that was mounted on the wall. We both walked over to it, and he sat down. I sat down next to him, and we both didn't say anything for a few seconds. I didn't know what to say, really. I just stared at the blank TV screen as though there was something on. I had to say something, though. This felt too awkward, and I wanted to see where things went. "So, what's the plan?" I asked. He giggled. "I don't know, dude. I wasn't even sure you'd come over, to be honest. But, uhhh, I just wanna finally say it in person. You're hot." He blushed just then, his face turning bright red. I chuckled a little. "You know I think you're hot already. I came like, three times watching you on cam. Made a mess of everything. Didn't even touch myself for at least one of those times. And you're super cute." I felt the blood rush to my face and knew I was turning red as well. He grinned. "So, I have to ask, are you gonna try to grow again?" He smiled a mischievous, almost evil smile. "Of course, dude. Like I said before, I wanna see how much fun we can have without computers separating us." "Well, then, do you wanna go to your computer so you can get back on cam?" "Oh no, dude, that's just one way. A tip is like appreciation, right? So, there's other ways I can feel... appreciated." The smile that followed that statement was definitely evil. I felt my dick stir. He then said, "Have I mentioned yet that you look really hot? I've never seen you wear such a tight shirt before. Nice pecs." He nodded towards my chest, and I guess my chest was pushing it out a bit. And then he put his hand on my leg, and slowly slid it down toward my knee. Oh god, my dick was definitely growing and pulsing now. I leaned toward him, and he toward me, and we kissed for the first time. It was a soft kiss, light, but it felt so nice. My dick responded with a throb, and butterflies entered my stomach. We smiled at each other. "Ready?" he asked. Fuck. I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep from cumming too soon. "H-how are you gonna do it?" I asked in response. "Just play along, and you'll see," he said, almost in a whisper. "You're already hard," he said, definitely in a whisper that time. He nodded toward my crotch. He lightly brushed his hand over it, and it made me shudder. He took his hand away, and flexed his skinny arms. There was barely a mound rising up on each. It was almost something you'd expect to see as a joke, and I felt ashamed for even thinking that. "Feel them, Mike," he said, still whispering. He said to play along, and my heart was pounding. I reached my hands over, and placed them on his biceps... or what would usually be considered biceps, had there been any there. I rubbed them, squeezed a little, and let my fingers slide along the length of his arms. "Now feel my chest," he commanded, a little louder this time. I put my hands on his flat chest, and felt it through his shirt. I let my hands run from one side to the other, and even ran them down to his stomach. His abs weren't there anymore, but his stomach wasn't exactly soft, either. My hands ran back up his torso, and I let them graze his shoulders. Then up to his traps and neck. "Oh fuck, oh fuck... yeah, this feels amazing, dude. I'm picturing it, what it'd be like if I was bigger, and you feeling me up, and I can feel it. Oh fuck, it's happening... unnghhh." And holy fuck. He threw his head back, like he did when he first grew on Camjerk, and I saw it happening again. For real. His shoulders were widening, growing, rounding out. They were getting bigger. And his traps were slowly taking shape, rising up slightly, swelling. I saw some movement under his shirt, and his chest was beginning to push out. Two mounds were slowly taking shape under the fabric, and I could feel my dick throbbing in response. FUCK! He raised his head again, looking at me, smirking. "This feels even better than before, dude." He straightened his arms out, and started flexing them again. This time, though, his biceps were taking shape. He flexed, and then unflexed, then flexed again. Each time, his biceps bulged up bigger than before. "Fuck yeah, oh yeah," he'd grunt with each flex. He squeezed out one final flex with his arms, and they stopped swelling. "Oh god, dude, that felt so good." My dick was throbbing so hard in my shorts, and I could feel the wetness of pre leaking into the fabric. FUCK I didn't want to cum so soon, but I didn't know if I could take much more. I didn't want to soil my clean shorts already, although the pre was already kind of doing that. He kept his arms flexed, and they were already pretty hot. Nicely shaped, bulging up, and I could already see those veins from before. But then he took his right hand and placed it under my chin, and pulled my face to his and kissed me. Hard. "Mmmmf" I gasped with his mouth on mine. His tongue entered, and I attempted to wrestle it with my own. I felt his hand running up my leg, and I mean up, not down like last time, and I shuddered. If he touched my dick, I'd probably cum. Luckily he pulled away, and broke the kiss. "You ready for more?" he asked, somewhat cockily. "Dude, I don't know if I can keep from cumming..." I bashfully responded. He glanced at the tent I was pitching, and smirked. "Duh, dude. That's the point. If I'm not making you cum, then I'm not doing my job. And, uh, I'll tell you now, it helps." And then he grabbed my wrists with his hands and placed them on his newly formed pec muscles. "Ohhh yes..." he breathed. I took the hint and let my hands press and feel his now harder chest, and let my hands roam over his newly formed muscles. I made my way to his arms, and they felt way better than before. They were harder, and felt muscly. I moved my hands to his legs and prodded them through his shorts, and they too were more muscled. I heard him gasp. "Shit, dude, I can feel it coming again. Oh god, yeah, here it comes, it's happening!" He closed his eyes, and his mouth was hanging open as the sensation washed over him. God it even looked like it felt good. My dick was oozing pre, throbbing, and my shorts were getting wetter and wetter. And then I saw it happening. He was swelling all over. His shoulders were growing bigger, wider, and I could see his traps rising up again. This time they became more pronounced, pushing the collar of his T-shirt up. His chest was pushing out of his shirt, creating definite outlines in the fabric. His eyes snapped open, and he grinned. "Fuck yeah, dude, I wanna grow so big for you," he said, and I felt my dick spasm. I was so close to exploding into my shorts. I could feel it. And then I saw his lats taking form again, pushing out against the sides of his shirt. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and his abs were taking shape again, getting back some definition. And his legs, I saw them pushing up against his shorts as he sat there. Then, he flexed his arms. They bulged, bigger than seconds before, pushing up into the fabric, filling the space that was left in the sleeves of his shirt until they tightened. He straightened his arms and flexed again, grunting, and the sleeves were even tighter, digging into his skin. I felt the pressure in my crotch reach its peak as he flexed his arms, and I felt the sharp sensation of an ejaculation erupting from my balls and into the shaft of my cock, shooting through its length and out of the tip. "FUCK!" I yelled, as I felt shot after shot of cum shooting into my shorts, a hot wet sensation expanding throughout. "Oh fuck," I said again. I shuddered, and I heard Zach chuckle. I looked over at him, and he had an evil glint in his eyes, and a smirk on his face. "Dude, you just came for me, and--oh fuck--this is about to get--ungghh--really fun!" His neck thickened and his voice deepened a little. His traps swelled upward again. He stood up from the sofa and planted himself in front of me, and I caught a glimpse of his calves swelling and bulging. He caught my gaze and said "It's only just beginning," and flashed that smile again. "Unnghhfuck" he moaned, and he started growing. His chest was really swelling fast, pushing out, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, causing stress lines to form. His shoulders were broadening again, growing bigger and bigger, and his sleeves were riding up his arms. What little space left in his sleeves was gone, and now even unflexed, his arms completely filled them. And fuck, his legs were pressing into his shorts, now. Once again, he looked like a junior bodybuilder, and was still growing. And then I felt my dick starting to harden again. Jesus, I wonder how much I could cum in one day? My balls were producing cum just for Zach. "Ohh yeah, I love this part, don't you?" My attention was brought back to Zach when he spoke, and I quickly realized what he was going to do. He had his arms raised, and I was excited to see it happen. "Unghh" he grunted suddenly, and he grew upward by maybe an inch, surprising even him. Small tears could be heard as his shirt was giving up the fight to contain his torso. "No fair! I'm flexing out of this shirt!" he exclaimed, and I guess I had to agree, it's hotter to see him flex out of a shirt. My dick agreed with a throb. He raised his arms up, and then BAM! Flexed into a mind-blowing double-bicep, his arms exploded with size, and the enormous sound of tearing cloth resounded through the apartment. RRIIIIIIP!!! The sleeves exploded, ripping all the way to the collar of his shirt, the sleeves reduced literally just to shreds. "FUCK YEAH!" he exclaimed. He took the remains of his shirt and ripped the rest from his body, leaving his torso bare. "Fuck that shirt, dude. I want you to see these muscles!" "OH fuck, Zach..." I gasped, my dick throbbing, pitching a huge tent in my shorts. "Yeah, dude. Fuck yeah. Getting fucking huge, right?" I nodded rapidly, feeling pre leaking from my dick again into my already soggy shorts. He grinned, but shook his head. "No, no I'm not. This is small. You wanna see me get huge? Come on, we're not behind keyboards anymore. Make me huge, dude!" He bent down and flexed his arm in my face. The bicep bulged up, huge, with a large vein running its length. I felt my inhibitions disappear with that muscle bulging in my face, and I moved my face closer and gave it a kiss. I kissed his bicep, and then sucked a little on the peak. I licked it, and then ran my tongue all around it. I heard Zach chuckle a bit, which then turned into a small moan. "Ummff..." I stood up, grasping his arm with my hands, and stood face to face with him. He kept his arm flexed, and I squeezed it with my left hand. But then I took my right hand and started rubbing him all over, starting with his pecs. I poked the now larger muscles, feeling the rocks they'd become. So fucking hard. I ran my hand to his abs, and traced my finger along the crevices between the bricks, and I could feel them clenching with his breaths. My hand wandered back up to his lats, and then to his back, where a vicious terrain of muscle had developed. My left hand never left his hot bicep, the muscle pulsing under it. My right hand wandered up to his traps, and fuck, they felt so amazing. I loved traps, and I knew Zach did, too. "Oh god, yesssss..." Zach breathed. And then I bent my knees and put my face near his chest, and ran my tongue up his pec cleavage. "Oh fuck, dude, FUCK!" I could feel Zach shudder beneath my hands, and I knew I had to be doing amazing things, priming him for an epic growth spurt. I brought my hands down, both of them, and put them on his ass. His glutes had grown a little, and I squeezed each cheek. I felt him flex, and my dick throbbed, squirting more pre into my shorts. "Oh god, yeah, fuck yeah, bro it's coming, get ready... watch me, look at what--unnghh--you've done to me...." I stepped back, and got a good look at him as he stood there. His mouth was hanging open again, almost like he was moaning with no sound. His arms were hanging at his sides, and I noticed his triceps were bulging. I saw his chest heaving from his heavy breathing, and then I saw something else. His chest was growing. His pecs were ballooning outward, swelling, as his nipples pointed more and more downward. And then I saw his traps rising up towards his ears as his shoulders broadened even more. "Ohhhhh yeahhhh this feels so good!" he moaned. He started to flex his chest, bouncing his pecs. His abs were developing further, becoming more and more defined, and it was definitely an 8-pack again. Watching his abs clenching with his breathing and movement was so fucking hot. And his obliques were becoming more defined as well, making that V-line really stand out, and fuck, who doesn't find a V-line sexy? But then I heard a soft rip. I looked toward the source, and I realized his legs were growing, too. His quads had gotten so big his shorts looked painted on, and then I heard another rip. "Fuuuuck..." Zach whispered. "Gonna flex, dude, make these shorts disappear..." he whispered again. And then he did it. He flexed his quads as hard as he could, and his shorts exploded all the way up to the waistband, his legs bulging with pure muscle, huge defined quads exposed to the air. His shorts were just flaps of cloth hanging from an elastic band around his waist. And his legs were still growing. He then took a moment to flex his calves, and they too were growing bigger and bigger. But then I noticed his arms. They were being pushed farther away from his body by his growing, swelling lats. And what lats they were! FUCK! They were becoming wings, and his arms were growing, too! He flexed his right arm, looking at it lustfully. It exploded with size, peaking high into the air, veins wrapping all around. He flexed his other arm, and it was even bigger. He was beyond bodybuilder big, now, and I felt a strong compulsion envelop me. I stepped forward, pressing my body into him. My hard dick pressed against his abs, and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his back muscles. I placed my hands on his ass feeling the insanely hard muscle. I squeezed like I did before, and his ass was rock hard. FUCK! I was grinding my dick into his body, and I felt the cum welling up from my balls as an imminent ejaculation was developing. And then my dick exploded, shooting more cum into my already wet shorts, and I continued pressing my dick into his hard body. Shot after shot of cum squirted into my shorts, and I moaned. Zach chuckled. "I love how much you're enjoying this," he said. He flexed his arms, and I reached up and felt them. "You just came again, and--fuck--I can feel it coming." Butterflies entered my stomach again as I realized he was going to grow more. "Ahhh! AHH!" he yelled, as he shot up several inches in height, soon towering over me. His body was expanding in every direction now, growing more and more, packing pounds of muscle onto his frame. "Oh god, this is bigger than I've ever gotten before!" His height was continuing to increase, and his muscles continued growing. The waistband of his shorts snapped off, and the remains fluttered to the floor, and he now stood completely nude. He turned around, and flexed his biceps, making his back bulge, and his ass was phenomenal. His glutes were so muscled and big, and I realized now that I wanted nothing more than to stick my dick into his ass. I dropped my shorts, finally freeing myself of the mess I was wearing. My dick sprang out, hard again already. Or maybe I never went soft. It's hard to be soft around this much muscle. Zach had to be around 6'5" now, and considerably taller than me. And definitely more muscular. But he stood there, flexing his biceps, with his back to me. He then straightened his arms and finally flexed his triceps, and holy shit, they were amazing. His triceps were perfect horseshoes, and absolutely humongous. And yes, from behind, his traps were really evidently huge. He almost looked like he had no neck. But, he kept his back to me. I could hear my own breathing as I looked at him and lusted after his body. My eyes drifted back to his ass, and I could see striations in his glutes, and I felt my dick throb. I stepped forward, and pressed the head of my dick into his crack. He gasped. "There's the fuckin' tip I want, dude," he said, gasping again, as I pressed harder. "But I need more than just the tip. Give me all of it." I didn't hesitate, and pressed myself all the way into him, and it felt amazing. It felt like we were two puzzle pieces meant to fit together. His hole was so hot, and I could feel his muscles clenching around me like a loving caress. I started fucking him from behind, ramming myself into him. The waves of pleasure radiating around my body were like nothing I've ever felt, and Zach started grunting and moaning. "Oh fuck, dude, yeah, fuck me, unghhhh," he moaned. "This is--oh fuck--the biggest tip I've ever--nnnggggg--gotten!" And then I saw it. Every time I thrusted into him, he grew and bulged all over. Another thrust, and his muscles swelled. And then again, only this time his height increased more. I was already getting close to cumming, and I increased the fervor of my fucking. More and more I fucked him, and he continued getting bigger and bigger, grunting with each thrust. I felt the unmistakable pressure building up in my crotch, and I knew I was gonna cum. "Fuck, Zach, I'm gonna cum!" "Do it, dude. Fucking cum in me," Zach breathed, his massive body heaving. And that was it. He clenched around my dick once more, and I felt the explosion take place that launched cum through my shaft and into his ass. I continued thrusting into him, feeling shot after shot of cum leaving the tip of my dick. And fuck, it was a lot. I noticed there was even some dribbling out of his hole. I've never cum this much before at once, much less in an entire day. My dick was wild for Zach. "NNghhhhhaaahhhhh!" Zach moaned loudly, and from behind him I saw his own cum launching into the air as he shot his huge load all over the room, hitting the walls, furniture, even the ceiling. He had to be over 7 feet tall, much taller than me now. But then I heard a familiar noise. A "DING" sound. I heard Zach chuckle. I looked around, and saw a red light. It was attached to a fucking camera! I looked at Zach, who'd turned around to face me. "Zach, what the fuck..." I started, but he spoke over me. "Mike, dude, that tip was for you." And then I felt my entire body throb, and immense pleasure surged through my limbs. I was growing.
  15. 1 point
    "Vintage Oscar, Jason, very nice.” “And I see Sebastian chose Tom Ford, sexy as hell.” The two men had met out in front of the concert hall. Even in the big crowd Jason had been able to find Sebastian quickly. The man’s gorgeous silver hair stood out among the crowd – especially in a sea of black tuxes. It was as if there were a hundred spotlights on the tops of neighboring buildings all pointed at the elder man. Also, there was the mustache. That pornographic weapon of lust, which, alone, made Jason’s cock ache like hell. The elder man was clearly manicured and cultured, but in a way that was still rough and sexy in what was a definite masculine way. He wasn’t a Botoxed plastic doll, he was all natural. And then there was the way his obviously muscled framed filled out even a tux. You could still tell he had muscles under all that glorious clothing. He bulged in all the right places and moved in that slow, determined way that bodybuilders moved – clearly thick and heavy from all the meat he was packing. When arms bulge noticeably through the sleeves of a jacket you know a guy is jacked. When it was an elder man jacked to the hilt; that only made the younger man happier. When Sebastian saw Jason walking up he broke into the sexiest grin the younger man had ever seen. White, white teeth popped out among the sea of people and Jason’s knees felt like wet spaghetti for a few seconds. It also seemed like all the massive bulges beneath the tux grew bigger, which made another bulge in Jason’s pants get bigger, too. “Good evening. You know, Jason, you looked very handsome today at work and now you’re even more good looking in your tux. I have a feeling you look hot in anything you wear.” “And any man that still looks big and hard as hell in a tux, must have a super fine body underneath, Mr. Sebastian.” “I do love tuxes – especially on dates. They make for good foreplay when you return home. It takes so long to take them off and it can increase the appetite, as they say. Shall we go in, sir?” Sebastian held out his arm so Jason could loop his within it. It was a simple move that somehow made the younger man extremely comfortable and protected at the same time. The more mature man taking charge of the situation and letting everyone know he had a cute young man as his date. As he reached out, Jason squeezed Sebastian’s arm just to cop a feel of the hard muscle underneath. The elder man immediately noticed and tensed his biceps at the same time to give Jason a thrill. “Are you into muscle, my friend?” “Only when it is on a hot daddy.” “It took me a while to embrace all of my daddy potential, Jason. I think it was because I associated being older with being put out to pasture. It wasn’t until I got the perfect mustache that I realized how hot an elder man can be.” “That, sir, is one freaking sexy strip of daddy fur. I bet it feels real nice in a passionate kiss.” The young man taking tickets glanced up as the two men approached and the kid’s mouth dropped open wide in clear and unashamed lust for the silver-haired fox that was walking up with his date. The poor guy didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at Sebastian’s huge body – his hand outstretched and open. The elder man placed two tickets in the open palm, but the ticket taker still did not move. He seemed to be in some catatonic state – caused by the handsome senior muscleman in front of him. Sebastian reached back out, tore the tickets in two and then placed half of them back in the still unmoving hand. It was clear that Sebastian was used to this kind of reaction. He led Jason into the magnificent lobby of the opera center and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. “Maybe you’d like to find out sometime.” “I think you already know the answer to that. Have you always been big and muscular, Sebastian?” “No, I was rather sickly as a child and all the way through high school. In college I met a guy that changed my life. My dad thought it would be important for me to be part of a work-study program in school – even though he paid cash for all four years. He was just always into me learning the ‘lessons of life’ - as he called them. I wonder to this day if he actually planned what assignment I would get – knowing it would change my life. He’s a very perceptive and sensitive man. You wouldn’t know it from working with him, but he really is gentle and a good father. Anyway, I was assigned to Jackson Peters – head of maintenance for the entire university. I was there to help him do his department’s budgets and finances – since I was going to be an international business major. Well, when I went down to the guy’s office in the basement of the administration building I got the shock of my life. Jackson Peters was actually called ‘Jocko’ because he was about six feet three inches tall and built like Lou Ferrigno – you know the professional bodybuilder who turned into an actor? “Trust me, Sebastian, I know who Lou Ferrigno is. The man has caused me to lose more loads than I can remember.” “Well, Jocko, took an instant liking to me. I’m sure it had to do with the way I helped his department get their books in order and look really good for his bosses, but it probably had more to do with the way I stared at his body all the time. He could tell I was smitten with his size and his obvious strength. He used to bend stuff just to entertain his staff. Well, long story short, Jocko decided to take me under his wing and show me how to work out. But the dude wasn’t just into weightlifting, he was also into martial arts, tai chi, meditation, and so much more. I learned more about life in the basement of the administration building over those four years than I did in all my classes put together. I’m pretty sure Jocko knew that I was gay right from the start, but our relationship never strayed in that direction. He was married with about eight children, and although I know he grew to love me, it was more like a son or a protégé. He helped me turn my body into what you see today. I owe him a lot. I get back to the university every now and then to visit him. He still works out and visits the campus, but he retired years ago. I’ve worked hard to maintain a healthy lifestyle ever since my time with Jocko.” “I’d say you’ve done a good job. And kudos to Jocko.” That’s when the lights dimmed and the opera began. Sebastian reached over and grabbed Jason’s hand, holding it through the entire show – even during intermission when the lights were up and people noticed. The big man’s thick fingers intertwined in Jason’s did something to the younger man. It made him calmer than he could ever remember being before. He wasn’t nervous about the date in any way. He also felt really empowered in some way – to be more himself than he ever had been in his entire life. He laughed more freely, spoke more honestly, and showed his appreciation of the older man beside him more openly. He stroked the man’s hand with his own fee hand. He leaned his head on Sebastian’s shoulder during the really sad parts of the show. And he allowed the larger man to lead him without any hesitation. Sebastian would put his hand on Jason’s lower back to lead him through the crowd and Jason followed the lead like they were in some kind of incredible dance. Every now and then Sebastian would bring Jason’s hand up to his face and kiss it, making sure the sturdy bristles of his sexy mustache brushed against it firmly. It was clearly a sign of what was to come. When the opera was over, they both agreed that it was not the season’s best, but that being there with each other had probably made it one of the most memorable. “I have an idea, Sebastian. I know we were planning to go out to dinner, but I happen to be an excellent cook. I’m not bragging, I’ve just been obsessed with the Food Network for years, and it’s taught me a lot. Maybe it would be more fun if we went to my place and I made you dinner.” “That sounds perfect, but my loft apartment is two blocks away, so it might be more fun if we went there. I’m sure I have everything you would need to cook us a wonderful meal and it would be a lot faster. And right now, I’d like to be alone with you as quickly as possible. What do you think about that plan?” “Lead the way, sir. Lead the way.” Again, Sebastian held out his arm and Jason joyfully linked his through. There was the now obligatory groping of the hard biceps, which was, in turn, tensed even harder to give the younger man some pleasure. They walked in silence for a about a minute as Jason continued to massage the hard mound of muscle under the tuxedo jacket. When Sebastian spoke next he didn’t look down at his date, he stared forward and continued to walk. “Will you kiss it later, Jason? I love it when guys kiss my biceps.” “Kiss it, lick it, bite it, massage it – whatever you want, sir. I hope you’ll kiss it, too, Sebastian. That turns me on.” Jason had not hesitated at all when answering Sebastian. He hadn’t needed to. The question had seemed so natural, so normal, and almost as if the younger man had expected it. Sebastian smiled at the answer – and the fact that there hadn’t been any hesitation. He had a very good feeling about the young man attached to his arm. He had a better feeling about the fact that Jason was trying desperately to squeeze – even slightly – his big hard tensed biceps. “I’ll be glad to kiss it. That big thing’s no giving in at all, is it? No matter how hard you squeeze.” “It’s like someone put cloth over marble. I can’t wait to see the thing free of all restraints and flexed hard.” “Well, you won’t have to wait too long - here we are.” “Um . . . this isn’t a loft apartment, Sebastian, it’s an entire building.” “Well, yes it is . . . but it also houses my office, a gym, and a yoga center, so technically only the third and fourth floor are my apartment.” “I need to take note of how you hide the full truth, sir. It might help me understand you more fully in the future.” “Fair enough, but know that if you ever ask me a direct question I will always answer truthfully.” “Yes?” “I promise.” “Then here’s one – do you like to flex your hard body for younger guys?” “I find it the most stimulating foreplay I’ve ever experienced, Jason. Why do you ask?” “Because I find almost nothing in the world as exciting as worshipping a big older muscleman as he flexes.” “The yoga studio and the gym have floor to ceiling mirrors.” “That news almost made me cum, but first I feed you, so you’ll have stamina to keep up with me throughout the night, Sebastian.” “I look forward to the meal, Jason, but – trust me – I have the stamina of a hundred men put together. I think you make me that way.”
  16. 1 point
    And speaking of grand muscledaddies, WOOF Richard!!!
  17. 1 point
    Awesome writing! My theory that their growth is caused by the thing that comes natural to them. For Wes it's being the boss (and drinking cum), for Marcus it's being in the centre of attention. And for Froy, I'm guessing it might be submission, which was being denied ("don't call me sir") up till now. If I'm right, I'd be delighted if Froy's growth would overshadow the other two afflicted.
  18. 1 point
    My guess is I will do something similar. And, like you, I have had a very lucky and less than typical life: marriage, kids, coming out, true love, widowhood, love again. Lots of anecdotes!
  19. 1 point
    This is a fantastic story. You've got a great set up and character development going on. The characters are well fleshed out with their attitudes and intentions. I also appreciate the chapter length! Not too short and not too long, just about perfect. And of course, the best part...hot GROWTH! I love muscle and height growth so you got me excited, lol! And you are keeping it fresh and interesting with the characters being influenced differently by the strange meteor. We still have yet to find out how it is affecting Froy. He mentioned in the first chapter about the meteor giving them superpowers and I wondering if he is hiding something. I love the character of Marcus. He's such a fun bro and has a great attitude and charm. I think we would all love to have a big, jocular, muscular friend to hang around and he fills that role. I love how boyishly excited he is by his growth and how he playfully teases Dory with newfound muscles. So hot. The only thing I'm confused about is the tic-tacs. I don't understand the significance and I don't recall any clues or anything from the first two chapters. Also, in this latest chapter Marcus says he made them? I hope we find out! Great stuff, keep it up!
  20. 1 point
    Oh, it's you who are you! My memory is very bad, but now I understand. Thank you so much for The Facility and The new adventures of Kake and Pekka. I have no idea how long time it was, when I read them the first time. I'm so glad that you are active on this forum. You and Arpeejay both influence my writing -- Londonboy and Jaypat do so, too -- but I had forgot your username, the name of the stories and where I found them. I suspect there is a fifth writer I read many years ago which also attracted my attention, when I was new to the genre, but I can't pinpoint name, titles of stories or where I found them. I have to re-read your stories. My past reading-experiences tend to blur, but I know I had fun.
  21. 1 point
    NSFW Art Stream https://picarto.tv/MyFaceIsItchy
  22. 1 point
    Two years ago, a kid with a weird fetish for power fantasies wrote something inspired on a nerdy kid slowly turning into a god in front of his bully. Part 1: Part 2: Part 3: Part 4 Is he going to bring us down?!” “I don’t know, he was pretty upset earlier today so he might not even come and get us tonight” I said. I was used to this kind of treatment from Johnny now. As time went by, Johnny kept up his appearance as the hero of the world, flying to other countries sometimes to save a city or two from an earthquake or to blow a tornado in another direction. His powers had reached new heights and, to compensate, he performed at higher levels and newer spectacles. However, although he did his best to keep up with his powers to keep them under control, there were some incidents where the power was too much to keep in check if Johnny got too excited. Doors he’d open in the tower would be sent flying across rooms from him just pushing doors a little. Doorframes would crumble if he moved too quickly to squeeze through them as he grew wider and taller. His head was now mostly above the 8 foot tall, giving you the impression that he had a bird’s eye view of things below him. The truth was, even though he was a moving pillar of power, his pecs had become large proportionally, pushing out over a foot in front of him, making it hard to say whether he saw the people below him who were just too short to keep up. I was careful to make sure he saw me when he passed like a bulldozer down the hall way in fear of my comparatively tiny body being sent through the wall and out of the building, sent to my doom acres below to concrete. Furniture was bent easily towards him when we watched TV and he would give the occasional yawn. Much of the pieces of decoration had to be glued to the walls or bolted to the floor as most objects that weren’t got sucked towards Johnny before flying off to the walls and shattering, bending, or simply breaking. Johnny used to apologize for this but, as time passed, he began to simply laugh, giggle, or even give the occasional joke as his power made all of his surroundings his domain. Once he’d tried to use his x-ray vision to look through the building for me and, instead, his ever increasing powers shot a huge beam of light through the walls, so intense that the walls would first melt and then instantly disintegrate. “Oops, guess I accidently turned on my high beams, hahaha” he would boom before laughing heartily and make the walls shake. Most would think that, after so long having shown such a strong sense of justice, Johnny would be terrified of hurting a feeble non-human being. They didn’t know Johnny like I did. It wasn’t till his sudden mean streak of bordering the gray area of saving things or fucking shit up that I realized that it wasn’t the idea of a superhero that he would take from his comics and superhero movies. He didn’t want to be like superman or batman or any lawful good person. He wanted to be better than ALL the heroes in his own way. His favorites weren’t listed as Superman, Batman, and Doctor Strange. No, if I had to guess from his usual free lectures of superhero lore he liked to give me, his favorites were more than likely the Batman, Deadpool, or Wolverine. Superheroes that did things the smart way, their way. Characters that got it both ways: the hero’s glory AND the delinquent fun. Last movie we watched was a surprisingly serious movie that even I started watching with interest called “Watchmen”. On the topic of a doctor known as “Dr. Manhattan” who had retained the knowledge of the entire universe and had god-like power, I’d said that he was my favorite. That was the wrong answer for Johnny. “Nah, he’s the worst of them all” he said. “He had the power to make the world a better place if he wanted, he just fucked it all up for that one woman he ended up with.” Johnny stood up and turned his thick and powerful neck to look down at me in limited view between his pectoral and his shoulder and he grinned a little. “If I had his powers, I would have chosen to use at least a little power to show some REAL intimidation to those bad guys.” I’ll admit, even I was surprised by that answer. I’d never heard him say anything like that before. Not even before he became such a famous celebrity as he were. I knew what caused the change in dialogue though; it had to have been that night we had where he’d destroyed the home movie theater with his cum alone half a year ago. After that, it was like he no longer had to hold the façade of being sweet and innocent little Jonathan near me anymore, he’d fully transformed into this new fair yet uncomprimising Johnny. One who felt he could tell me his deepest, most honest thoughts without feeling judged. And also, one with superhuman confidence, superhuman needs, and a superhuman presence. Humanity was shrinking in his presence daily and it showed in every little thing he did. Johnny stopped wearing the custom fit, full body outfits that the many clothing lines desperate for his name on their brand tried to put together to please him and simply walked around at all times in his favorite spandex. Johnny demanded that they stop making him bigger versions of his old outfit and, instead, work on a simple pair hero like, spandex boxer briefs. I could hear the strain as he walked from room to room as each thread struggled to contain his unyielding leg and butt muscles. The press had a field day with Johnny’s new image and any censoring companies quickly went to confront his new wardrobe. Yet, it took one quick visit from Johnny, literally 5 minutes after he’d read the article at his hyper speed reading level, for the CEOs of every company to accept his new look. Everyone else didn’t go against it either. Johnny’s presence made many weak at the knees now, even some men who’d probably be described as extremely straight on the Kinsey scale. He didn’t really give off the energy of someone who didn’t want critique, his appearance simply made people who would normally debate outside his presence silence themselves and work to please him. I was concerned for the fabric of society as Johnny’s “little accidents” often were the things that caused earthquakes and volcanoes to erupt. He’d told me actually had to hold back to the lower Mach speeds after he’d uprooted an entire rain forest trying to test his speed limit. At that speed, even mountains shook when he passed by. His techniques to save people had also become much less prepared and careful also as he seemed to have gotten bored of the traditional and save procedure to do things that were considered...... more creative. Literally yesterday, he’d gone out of his way to save a little growing town someone had the bright idea to build in Equador, next to the Sangay, one of the most active volcanoes in history. You’d think, with Johnny’s powers, the key to stopping the volcano is to blow it out softly with his powerful breath, right? Not today’s Johnny. He simply pulled down his pants, aimed his cock, and attempted to show off his new power to turn the liquids he took in to pure water. Water splashed over the surface and began to crust the steaming lava into a solid but Johnny didn’t calculate how much liquid had actually been converted to water in his system and, instead, began to release urine like a normal human. Unlike a normal human, though, Johnny’s body produced as much if not more heat than the center of the earth. Thus, creating an even more terrible urine-lava that even scorched more land than the lava could beforehand. Of course, he was able to save the village regardless by simply returning to the logical plan of blowing the super-lava to an iron like solid and his image agency carefully wove the story as another heroic showing by the amazing Johnny Poundstone. Still, Johnny wasn’t afraid to tell me the unabridged story with all the excitement attached, wearing nothing but his tight and nearly pointless calvin klein briefs. “Seriously, Sam, I really didn’t mean to do that but it was so much fucking fun. I’m glad no one was hurt but you should have seen how hot my piss was! If I hadn’t solidified it, I think it would have probably melted through the surface of the volcano and created another eruption! I didn’t even know it could get that hot!” I could see his excitement but he couldn’t see the horror I was wearing on my face. I knew from his tone of voice that he was only half serious about being glad to save those people. His cock even bounced a little as he explained it. I felt so disgusted in the fact by the sound of excitement and the power he released on a whim but I was more disgusted by the fact I was hard the entire time he explained it. The walls I’d built up to hide my sexuality were rapidly ebbing every day as Johnny continued to bend the rules to his whims and power through obstacles that would have taken decades, if not centuries, of human research and development to duplicate. It was still only a few years ago since he’d fucked most of the young women of our town the month after having terrorized today’s most impressive athletes at the last Olympics without even trying. The current strongman who’d been allowed to keep his title beneath Johnny was still horrified from the time Johnny had come to train with him only to nearly crush him beneath a 18 wheeler truck he’d used as weight on his back during a push up session. Johnny told me the guy had even peed a little after he’d tried pushing the weight with just a little more force and had actually sent the truck flying up and toward the stunned athlete, catching it within several yards of impact. I couldn’t take it anymore. Johnny had to be stopped. So, I did attempted the most basic kind of measure to try and neutralize him. I called his parents. His family had heard about his actions and were as horrified as I was when I told them the truth of each situation, even the time a passing helicopter covering traffic had caught him and a small entourage of women having sex on the top floor of the Empire State Building during one of its closed nights. His mother had thought Johnny was just a sweet kid with a big heart that wanted to save everyone, not the egomaniac I’d described to her. I’d asked her if she’d wanted to see for herself but she’d had a better idea. I truly believed was prepared to take on the equivalent of a god as I tried to play it cool around Johnny after the call for help but I feared how this would turn out. I was inside Johnny’s “weight room” looking at his equipment as I waited. The room was simply an extremely large square room similar to the inside of a factory. The “weights” in question were so heavy and large that this room had to be made on the basement floor or else too much weight in one spot could have easily caused the floor to cave in on itself. Each one was the size of a person and made of materials that a mere human had no hope of ever lifting in their wildest dreams. I’d watched Johnny lift the weights that scaled from the size of a human to the size of semi-truck but after that, but he’d insisted I never come down when he was working out again after he’d gone up the weights the size of aircrafts and ships after I’d fallen from the impact of the ground quaking when he’d attempted to deadlift one of them for the first time and had caused me to hit my head on the concrete floor, knocking me unconscious. I dared to touch one of the many magnetic weights some scientists had built to further test his strength. Johnny had outgrown them now but, from my perspective, they were unfathomable creations as each grew up from the size of a house and went up from that to the size of an aircraft carrier, each one was crafted to multiply the weight by the force of magnetism toward the ground. If dropped from the right height, one of these weights had the potential to cause a portion of New York to sink into the ocean with few traces left. Still, Johnny was more powerful than this. Johnny had a monitor built into the room for me so that, when I was bored, I could change one of the TVs in the building to this room so that I could see him without actually being put in too much danger. I’d watched him lift this weight over time and it had taken him a month to go from dead lifting this monstrous behemoth for a single rep to curling it as easily as an expert bodybuilder would a pair of 10 pound weights. I was mere seconds into questioning if I was in over my head when I heard the elevator ding, rattle a little from the weight of its occupant, and then slowly open to reveal the body of a god. Johnny was last measured at 8’8 and so his head and part of his neck couldn’t even be seen at the 10 foot tall elevator. His trapezius muscles glistened with a sheen of light that would make you think he was constantly glowing like a soft glow stick at all times. Shoulders broader than the doors of the elevator stretched out and hulked from this god’s body, most definitely farther apart than I was tall. Johnny’s pecs were so big that they seemed to dominate a lot of his upper body wherever you couldn’t see biceps and lats so large that they collided with each other. Johnny’s long limbs made it possible for him to move but it was something unnaturally beautiful the way Johnny moved so gracefully regardless of his overgrown form. One could stand under Johnny and protect themselves from rain, sleet, and snow the way his limbs bulged and seemed to hover due to their girth and defiance of gravity. Johnny’s legs went outward from his tight waist and were currently terrorizing a new XXXXXL sized pair of briefs as they were pushed apart from each other by their own thickness. Even with the help of Johnny’s gratefulness, I doubted his knees would ever fully touch again. The girthy weight in his shorts clearly wasn’t helping as it looked like even an extra one or two inches would cause them to simply deconstruct themselves and fall flimsily to the floor, defeated by the godly body they’d dared to cover. I could see that it wouldn’t be long before he’d have to up his size again once I saw how stretched the spandex had become. If there had been any hope of the tiny article of clothing maintaining itself, it would be on the borderline of being see-through in a very short amount of time. The calves beneath the powerful thighs Johnny’s owned were clearly diamond hard, the separation in muscles deafening and bordering on unnatural the way they were so steely hard and used this power to hold the titanic weight that was Johnny on two big feet that even showed a few veins to display their unbelievable power. Johnny looked like a morph of a top-condition fitness model blown to the maximum with extreme proportions the way his body fit together and yet still filled an unbelievable amount of space. I was so mesmerized trying to admire his body in the light of the elevator that I wasn’t prepared from him to move one of his titanic feet forward and step closer. He bent very low to make the dive into the room, revealing his head, grown to fit proportionally to the rest of his body while still appearing somewhat small. Johnny tested the boundaries of masculine beauty as even I, someone who saw him almost constantly, struggled to pull my gaze from that amazing face. His cheekbones were high and powerful, giving him a kind of dimple form just before his powerful lantern jaw. Eyes currently neon blue glared into the room and seemed to absorb all light nearby the way they glowed from behind his long blonde eyelashes. His eyebrows were thick and manly although they were tamed well to his manly, arching brow. Hair like a golden mane was done up in a stylish hairstyle for appeal with single curl hovering over his forehead, making him look older than he was thanks to the added masculine charge from his facial hair. His strong nose pointed down to a pair of soft looking, red lips that were almost as red as ripe fruit and hid teeth I knew had the white sheen of the sun when Johnny grinned. It was almost impossible to find a flaw when you saw Johnny coming towards you. In that moment of watching that demanding being come towards me, I had no ill will of any kind towards him as his eyes focused on me from his height perch. If anything, his gaze made me feel guilt over anything else. I knew he was using his eyes to gauge my mood as he’d told me he could now recognize the movement of heat in my body with infrared vision and even tell what I’m feeling during a conversation. The police force had hired him recently after he’d revealed he could make out the electrical waves through the body to tell lying and not. God, borderline mind reading. I was definitely over my head. One of his beautiful eyebrows raised and he performed a cute, confused blink, clearly from seeing my anxiety using his powers. “What’s up, Sam? You don’t look so good.” “I’m fine” I said as I practically braced myself against the flat head side of one of his weights, I could feel him shake the ground a bit with each movement. The words fell out of my mouth like lead. “Johnny, I really don’t think how you’re doing these things is OK.” “What?” “I mean that you aren’t putting people first. I’m a biology major, Johnny, I’m supposed to care about the objects of nature and to take into consideration how they work. I want to be able to use that knowledge .to help save endangered species and prevent the human race using up the planet. But what you’re doing puts everything in danger. Just yesterday, you nearly made Bengal tigers extinct by attempting to using fire breath to burn the poacher. You JUST told me that you had to be careful with your breath because it could become a laser if you didn’t maintain the heat! That’s not OK!” Johnny was looking down at me with an intense gaze and I feared for my life as his eyes shifted between colors. Normally, this many colors were a sign he was analyzing a criminal or an asshole stupid enough to walk up to him and insult him to his face on the street. He was probably analyzing me to make sure I didn’t have a bomb or a hidden gun in an attempt to kill him. Or even more likely, he was analyzing me on different wavelengths to be sure I wasn’t being controlled or if I was sick. Before he could open his lips to pass judgement, the elevator rung and opened. I remained immobile as Johnny turned to face it, blocking my view with his tremendous back and gravity defying butt. His muscular cheeks were undisguised in any if not all clothing made to try and cover him now. I felt privileged to be so tiny at 5’8 to be graced with the man’s muscular glutes in my vicinity. Had it been a normal day, I would have kept my eyes glued but, instead, I turned up to the hulking mass in his back and tried to gauge his reaction based on what little of his head that I was able to see. “Whoa” I heard a deep voice say, followed by steps from heeled shoes. Johnny turned back around and looked down at me with an unreadable look. “Did you call him here?” he asked as he backed and turned to reveal a new face. A man with dirty blonde hair and dark blue eyes were turned to face Johnny, the man clearly trying to comprehend Johnny and his very existence. It was none other than Johnny’s brother, wearing his marines captain uniform. If Johnny himself weren’t here, he’d be the second most impressive presence as he had to stand at around 6’4 and was broad shouldered from his time in the marines. I was too afraid to look at him for too long as Johnny was in the room and whatever aggression he may have had was most definitely pointed at me. “No, mom called me, idiot” croaked Tanner, attempting what I assumed was his idea at trying to rein his “little” brother back to his role from years ago and retake the dominant place as the eldest sibling. Johnny had an older brother, Tanner, who’d been in charge of him during their childhoods. He’d been the one who’d gotten Johnny into the idea of being a hero after he’d gone to join the marines. He was currently on leave and had said he’d be able to get on a flight in short time. His mother had told me that there was no doubt in her mind that Tanner could keep him in check during his time off. I gave her credit for trying to pit this large man up against his younger brother but I knew almost immediately looking into Tanner’s eyes that she’d miscalculated a bit. Still, Tanner gave his best. “We spent all our childhoods talking about wanting to be heroes and look what I’m here to see. You actually got powers that can make a HUGE difference in the world. What the fuck were you thinking going around putting mafias and drug lords in the hospital and messing with the world like this? You fucking pee’d on a volcano and only made shit worse! You’ve even been having sex with random women all over New York! Have you lost your fucking mind?” I was silent as Tanner went on his rant to try and throw Johnny’s accidents back at him. I hesitantly went back and form from Tanner to Johnny as I tried to gauge the atmosphere. Tanner went on and on, listing what he’d been told by word of mouth, from me to his mother to himself. It was near the end that I heard the end of Tanner’s attack that I tuned back in. “You should fucking learn from your mistakes, shit head. Didn’t I teach you better than this half-assed shit you’ve been pulling? Get it fucking together!” For a moment, there was absolute silence. The room echoed with that last sentence as if even the room were having trouble swallowing them. I wasn’t breathing as I braced for impact. I didn’t expect anything that came after those words. Johnny, however, showed absolutely zero fluster and spoke calmly with his bellowing voice. “You know, you’re right.” “What?” I said as I looked up at Johnny. I was too close to see his mouth, only being able to see his powerfully straight nose and piercing eyes as Johnny looked down at his “big” brother. “I said, Tanner’s right.” Tanner had been sweating through his uniform trying to cling to his history with Johnny as he knew that there was no other chance of survival if Johnny didn’t take to his sermon. I could actually hear him breathe a little relief as Tanner continued. “Maybe I’ve been too careless. I’ve been using my powers like their toys so much, I’ve been neglecting the proper way of being a hero in the eyes of my big brother.” Johnny seemed to turn his massive body toward the elevator as if to leave. “I should go and apologize to the people of the world for my actions and promise to do better” he said as he started walking. Tanner and I shared a look of shock and victory as we thought we’d taken control of the situation. Tanner had verbally beaten the equivalent of a god on earth. “Oh wait, I forgot.” Tanner turned to look up at his brother but collided with what had to be a freight train as he was knocked back and sent skittering across the smooth floor toward one of the weights. Johnny had come back and body slammed his brother, his face colliding with the larger brother’s hulking pec muscles. I turned back to the giant form of Johnny to receive his red, flaring gaze. His look alone had told me to remain silent and speak only when told to. He passed me without a moment’s breadth, closing in on his brother. “I just remembered, they asked me to do all of that. I fucking did all of it because someone asked me to.” Tanner’s hat had fallen to the ground as he’d flown to collide with one of Johnny’s massive weights. Johnny continued the movement by grabbing his brother’s collar with only a finger and a thumb as if lifting a kitten but doing it with the ease of lifting stationary. He and his brother made eye contact and I could see that he was terrified of what his super being brother planned to do to him. “Nobody told me how they WANTED me to do it. I just did it, no questions asked. Do you think I do this because I want to earn their fucking gold stars? I guess you haven’t heard about how I just gained the ability to survive in space. I can collect enough stars to hide for easter egg hunting.” Johnny let go of his brother and re-pressed him to the wall of the weight with his index finger. Tanner appeared to struggle to breath as the finger was pressed against his solar plexus. “I do this because I fucking want to do it. Nobody questions how I choose to save the world. You know why? Because I do it on a daily basis. I’m so smart now that I can hack a quantum computer within a minute and have enough time left to hack half a dozen people’s Netflix accounts for kicks. I understand any if not every possible way to save someone within half a second of witnessing the situation.” At this, Johnny raised his arm and flexed his massive arm, now so large that it was easily taller than me and over twice as long around as my chest. With every other word, he flexed a little harder and the muscles would swell a bit bigger and become more veined and dense looking, the striations deep enough to stick a finger into. “I have the muscle now to play ball with the fucking moon. I can destroy buildings that are stories high with just a flick of my pinkie finger. I can cause earthquakes across North America by just flying at 1/10th my top speed. And every day I have to make sure my powers within my control or else I could sneeze a mile deep crater into Manhattan.” Johnny looked beside Tanner and threw a massive fist almost the size of his head with the speed of a military jet. The fist collided with the surface of the weight Johnny was holding Tanner and instantly went through as if it were liquid metal. An explosion of shocks went out and flew around Johnny’s body. He remained unfazed and unaffected by the high voltage shocks but Tanner shut his eyes at the intense heat. Even I was stunned by the intensity as I’d never seen Johnny play with so much voltage first hand. “But still, even with all of that, I’m still getting stronger and growing bigger. Mountains become easier and easier to push around daily. I’m so tall now that, even with sitting, I’m almost as tall as little Sammy-boy back there. I can’t fit through any doors that are built for humans to pass through, even double doors. They have to let me in through loading docks for trucks now or car garages that I have to crouch in to get through. Literally every moment is a test on my ability to stay under control and remain unexcited regardless of the fact that I have enough power to fuck up the world if I use more than 5% of my power. People who run into me are sent flying just like you did only seconds ago even when I’m not trying to walk past them.” Tanner yanked his hand from the weight he’d stabbed and pulled out a hand that was still sparking with electricity. He was controlling all of the energy he’d taken from the herculean weight he’d punched into and holding it in the palm of his hand with what looked like the ease in which someone would hold a pencil. I dared not question how Tanner wasn’t barbequed. It had simply been Johnny’s will that he’d remained uncharred and possibly wetting the slacks of his military uniform. “The funny thing is, when it comes to people who don’t actually know me, I get nothing but thanks and congratulations. They talk about how amazing it was for me to do something that had taken only a hundredth of a hundredth of my power to move. Like the meteor that closed in on Ohio a few months ago or the Chrysler building from 1 month ago. They ask the world of me and I give them the effort I can barely allow myself to use. I fly in like a fucking circus for their television shows and they give me their thanks only after I endorse their products. Can you imagine how irritating it is when you do everything you can but people only want to thank you after you’ve done something for them? Like they only appreciate you when you give your help, not out of genuine happiness to see you? Even at the last reunion, half of our cousins were slobbering over me and just barely kept eye contact.” Johnny pulled his comparatively tiny brother up and off the steely surface he was pressed on and held him in the air, giving the image of what I thought Zeus would look like holding a tiny mortal. I didn’t see it coming as Johnny moved like a blur toward me and had my collar before I could speak, my body easily raised to match Tanner’s. “That moment when the only two people in the world who can possibly look me in the eye can’t appreciate me like I want either, huh? What a fucking hassle I must have been putting you both on pedestals like I did.” Before I knew it, we were in the elevator heading to the lobby room of Johnny’s tower, the machine struggling to hold his bulk and raise it. When we reached the lobby, Johnny walked out and left the ground too quickly for anyone else to react fast enough. All of the people below on the ground who’d come to do business with Johnny looked up to see a massive man holding two smaller men like dolls as he flew through a window that shattered instantly. He landed below in a crowd of unsuspecting by standers and simply held us over them like dogs who’d crapped on someone’s shoes. I was holding the steel hard muscles and striations of his forearms so tightly that I was quick to notice something. It didn’t feel right. The surface was still unbelievably hard but the size wasn’t the same. I assumed it was just the same feeling I always got every time I saw him, the feeling that he’d gotten just a bit bigger than the last time, but I was wrong. It was more certain than ever. Johnny became farther and farther away as his arms lengthened and grew thicker. His body was actually growing at different parts at different intervals. His head, though still getting farther away, was now bigger than before and was slowly climbing the tower as we were. I felt a rush of wind as it seemed Johnny kicked himself into a new gear and started to soar higher up and up and up into the sky. I could hear Tanner’s screams as we rocketed up with Johnny, his grip on us changing before he simply dropped us both in a growing palm. The g-forces were holding us down but I could raise my head up easily enough to look up at Johnny’s growing face. His gaze seemed to have magnified with the rest of him as both his blue eyes were now a shining white, almost resembling two suns as they nearly blinded me. That was less of a problem as Johnny grew even taller and eventually had his massive, house-sized pecs shield us from the light as a small token of mercy. Buildings shrank below as we became climbed the tower quickly like a figurative rocket ship to the top. “DON’T WORRY. YOU GUYS STILL GET TO BE ON A PEDESTAL. I’VE GOT IT COVERED.” My ears were rattling with the sudden force of Johnny’s larger, even more commanding voice. I imagined his voice box must have been the size of a restaurant building by now as he grew up and up and up, our view of him filling every corner. Soon, he was wider than the building as his body growth became more stable and his growth tried to stabilize his proportions to one similar to the original form. Before me or Tanner knew it, Johnny had stopped growing and all I could make out were two expanses. One was the expanse of the blue sky. The other was his massive godly form, now blown to hundreds of times their original size. Johnny’s tower had to be looking over all of New York, taller even than the Empire State Building, and it was completely out of view! The expanse that was Johnny’s hand now almost had the width of a parking lot. Veins the size of sewer pipes with up his monstrous biceps, still quite large proportionally at his bigger size. His pecs both could have rivaled a baseball stadium in size as they each stuck far away from their master’s rib cage. I could barely make out the sound of cars panicking and drivers honking their horns below, all probably looking up at Johnny’s massive frame unimpeded by his big hands unlike we were. I wondered if there were any human buildings in world big enough to compete with Johnny’s size now. I never thought I’d have to ask that question. “A NEW POWER I LEARNED TO DO FROM THAT MOVIE, WATCHMEN. NOW I CAN DO MORE HEAVY DUTY SHIT WITHOUT ANY FUSS.” I covered my ears to blanket the sound coming from Johnny’s voice but it was going through my entire body. Tanner was looking up just as I was, terrified of the power his brother was displaying. I wondered if he could still recognize Johnny as he was now. “IT’S SAFE TO SAY I’VE OUTGROWN YOU GUYS, HUH?” Johnny bellowed. I didn’t see it coming when Johnny’s hand suddenly fell from underneath us and we were plunging to our deaths. I screamed at the top of my lungs with a part of my mind and waited for death with the other. Then, suddenly, I was saved by what felt like something going under my shirt and holding me in place like an ornament. I’d glued my eyes shut as I’d fallen but opened them to see the view of the entire city. I recognized this from the terrace at the top of the tower. We were on the spire at the very top of the tower, high above the city. I Johnny looked down at us with his still bright white eyes and I still waited for death. Johnny, on the other hand, had other plans. “WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE FUCKING APOLOGIZING, I’LL BE DOWNSTAIRS. CAREFUL THOUGH. “ With that, Johnny pointed to the sky and, in a flash, the weather went from sunny to cloudy in short time. A cold chill arose as white flakes came from the sky. Tanner and I quickly began to shiver as we felt the chill run up. Even I didn’t know that Johnny could control the weather now. “IT’S A LITTLE CHILLY. YOU MIGHT WANT A COAT.” As Johnny shrunk down the building, I felt a chill both outside and inside myself as his massive frame zoomed out of our view. I’d lost the faith and trust of a god who’d thought of no one’s opinion other than mine. Absolute failure didn’t even cover a portion of our defeat. Johnny was above any human’s control. ---
  23. 1 point
    <i>Old, old thing.</I> Four boxes. That's all it had taken to completely wipe me the hell out. Four boxes out of a two-bedroom house with full basement, that still needed to be moved. This was going to be a hell of a day. Let's go back a bit. James, this guy at work with whom I'm pretty good friends, had asked me to help him move. I did, with the understanding that there would be about five of us there. The whole thing didn't sound so bad - James has a nice little house out in the country and hanging out, lifting a couple of couches and drinking some beers on a mild day sounded fine. That was my mindset at 5 pm Friday. Come 9:17 am, Saturday, I got to James' and found the other guys had punked out, the heat index was supposed to peak at 90 and he didn't have a chance to hit the store before coming home to finish packing last night. And there's the four boxes out of what seems to be hundreds that kicked my ass, only a half-hour into the move. Plus furniture. Plus god knows what else in this place. James was in the same spot. "I'm sorry man, I thought I had those guys nailed down. And I had no idea it was going to get this hot today. The forecast said upper seventies at the most." I stifled my real response. "No, it's cool. Shouldn't take too long." To die of heat exhaustion, that is. "Listen," he said. "This isn't going to work." Yes! I expected a free pass- he'd hire some guys to do it for him, or we'd wait until a better time - say the middle of January. "I'll be right back, I have something in the refrigerator that will help." He left the room. Refrigerator? What, was he expecting Gatorade or something to help us move two million tons of his junk? He returned from the kitchen, holding what looked to be a glass of Gatorade. Of course. "Here, drink this. A friend of mine at the university's been working on it in his spare time. It'll help with your, um, stamina, that sort of thing," he said as he handed me the glass. I looked at the lime green liquid. "This? This is your solution?" He looked a bit anxious. "Trust me. Actually, I'm glad the other guys didn't show up. I didnt' have enough of this for everyone. I drank some a few minutes ago and I'm already feeling better." He looked at his watch. "Actually, can you excuse me for a minute? I'll be right back." He headed upstairs into the master bedroom, leaving me there with the glass of whatever the hell it was. Smelled like your basic lime-green sports drink. Oh well, it was cold, I was thirsty and I'm much higher up on the beverage food chain. I downed it in one gulp. It wasn't bad, pretty good, actually, with a nice warming sensation on the way down. At the time, I chalked it up to some kind of placebo effect, but I was beginning to genuinely feel better, when I heard a noise upstairs. It was some kind of crashing, with a small yell. I rushed up- it was the room James had gone into - the master bedroom. The door was partly open and I brushed it aside. What I saw still- well, I- I still have trouble describing it, though I've visualized it over and over, with the rest of that whole weird, hot day. What I saw was James. Covered in sweat, completely nude with his back to me. His clothes folded on the bed, in a neat pile. That alone would be strange enough, as I usually don't strip down when I have folks over, much less when I'm moving everything I own to a new house. That wasn't the strangest part, though. Now, I'd never see him with his shirt off, much less his pants, but I could have sworn he was bigger, somehow. More muscular and, well, growing. His whole body was this surging mass of muscle. His back looked like he was flexing it- every muscle was throbbing, swelling and contracting, but retaining size with every cycle. It was bizarre, I could have sworn I'd heard his skin stretching. He was kneeling alongside a dresser, using it to support himself. With every deep strained breath, his arm flexed a bit more - his fingers were even getting bigger, making indentations into the mahogany. I caught myself being hypnotized- no, that's not right. No, I was getting turned on by the whole process, watching his glistening body swell bigger and harder, imagining the power in those increasingly dense muscles. His breathing wasn't that of someone going through some painful change. It was closer to the type of breathing you did when you discovered exactly what your body can do right around age 13 and did it over and over again, for the sheer pleasure of it. Then the breathing changed to an occasional grunting, as his body shuddered. He just stayed there, his massive back heaving, our breathing the only sound in the room. "Matt?" I was startled as he cut the silence. "James? I, um.. God, man, what- what the hell is this?" "Don't worry, don't freak out. It's cool. Can you come over here and help me out?" I'm not sure, but I think I said something in the affirmative, because I found myself walking over to him. He just seemed to look bigger and thicker and wider as I got closer- the smell of his sweat, his something, his maleness just got to me. I touched his back- it was hot to the touch. "Yeah, you might want to wait a second before any contact. Side-effect. Push that metal stool over, could you?" I could and I did, just staring, without a single coherent thought in my head. There was a clicking ound, as he took his massive fingers out of the grooves they'd made in the top of the dresser. He placed both hands on the stool - it bend under his massive bulk. It seemed this wasn't the first time he'd had to do this, there was a bit of a ritual to it. First he leaned forward, causing the muscle in his arms and back to bunch up even more. Then the legs bent, flaring calves outward, causing thick veins to rise to the surface. He rocked back slightly and put those powerful legs to work, getting the rest of him upright. As he went up with a grunt, that ass- that amazing damned ass - just hardened into strips of deeply striated marble. Then he turned around. Oh man, did he turn around. I had to back up a bit, you see. It wasn't just muscle that had grown. I had to back up to avoid the roughly thirteen-inch erection as thick as my forearm James was now sporting. Up to that point, I had always considered myself straight, with the chance of going bi after a heavy night of drinking. At that moment, I would deny even knowing what a woman's breasts looked like, if it meant I could get a chance to touch that thing. "Matt? Matt? Matt, up here." I looked up - he'd gained about four inches on me in height, too. There was James' face, on a head, resting on a neck packed tight muscle sitting atop the thickest, beefiest, densest torso that had ever existed. "James, what..." I trailed off, looking over the thick pecs, pusing hard brown nipples downward, the deep eight-pack of abs leading to that incredible area where the legs join the torso and the aformentioned massive erection. "Matt, you need to listen. This is normal. That will become apparent in," he looked at the clock on the nightstand, "about five minutes." Five minutes? What the hell was he talking about? "That fluid we drank is a temporary growth serum. In a few minutes you'll be feeling the effects and - up here, Matt, that will stil be there once you've changed- and I decided to go first to give you an idea of what will happen. Now the first thing I'd suggest is trying to relax and maybe removing your clothes, though shredding them is fun and I do have extras if you need an outfit." "Wait- What? Serum? What? Why?" "Well, there's no way we're going to move this stuff today by ourselves, so I thought I'd help things along a bit. Besides, I haven't changed in a couple of weeks and wanted to do it with a friend." "But that's insane! I- I don't know what to think. Listen, I have to get out of here. I don't know what you're talking about - experimenting on me, growth... I don't know." I was confused, I had no idea what he was talking about. What happened? Why did I all of a sudden feel like fucking one of my friends? One of my friends that had grown into a 6'7" behemoth covered in layers of dense, cut muscle? I had to get out. I was panicking, it was too much to handle. I turned to leave the bedroom, when it hit - I was on fire, felt like I was burning up, sweating all over. James bounded over to catch me as I fell. I could feel his huge arms and chest through my damp t-shirt. His massive cock rested against my leg, throbbing with each beat of his heart. My dose kicked in. It had started. I slumped back to the bed and sat down, the room began to waver in front of me- I felt like I couldn't move. As hot as I'd been earlier, things became warmer, stifilingly so. My stomach was where it started- it felt as though I was going down a very steep hill, but wasn't anywhere near reaching bottom. James knelt in front of me and put his massive hand on my shoulder. "Matt? You have to listen to me. Just try to relax and don't fight it. It hurts at first, but gets better, okay?" All I could do was nod, I tried opening my mouth, but all that came out was a grunt as the first wave hit and my body stiffened. "Here, man, let's get you out of these - easier for your first time." I felt weird, almost swimming, as he grasped my t-shirt and tore the thing in half. I looked down and saw my chest and stomach covered in sweat. The skin was alive, writhing, pulsing. I found it harder to breathe, my heart was beating off the scale. Another wave and another groan. "It's okay, Matt. Focus-- I'm right here, just relax," he said, as he made quick work of my shorts and boxers, before bending down to slide off my shoes. I laid back on the bed. My body felt like it was exploding, burning. Everything felt tight, I closed my eyes and saw colors as the falling sensation in the pit of my stomach became more intense. I vaguely felt James' huge hand on my leg-- I couldn't make out what he was saying, the roaring in my head was deafening. Though his rubbing my upper thigh felt comforting somehow. Then it hit - the final phase, where most of the growth happens. Later, James told me that the first time is usually a bit overwhelming. Once you've done it once or twice, it becomes a bit more, well, pleasurable. Me, I didn't have a problem with my first time. I felt like my entire body was in a constant state of flex, with no control over any of it. Wave after wave of this strange sensation came over me. The first effect was I got a huge erection, I felt like I was going to tear the skin off of my cock. Instead, it just kept stretching, getting bigger. Then this tingling sensation hit in my feet and moved up. I lifted my head off the bed as much as I could to look in the mirror and could see it happening- I was fucking growing! Veins were popping up all over my legs, cris-crossing, thick and hard, carrying serum-charged blood to my muscles. I could feel my skin get tighter in my calves and looked in the mirror to see them plump up. The tingling moved up my legs, as I felt them getting heavier, thicker-- god, it was the hottest thing I'd ever felt. I looked over at James. He was just watching me grow, while stroking that huge cock of his. I watched his arms and shoudlers bunch and flex and found myself wanting to touch them, feel them as the tingling hit my groin. Oh my god. I could have cum gallons. I felt my balls stretch, my cock's growth accelerated and left me a moaning, writhing mass of swelling muscle on the bed. James looked over and smiled. I wanted to touch myself so badly, start stroking, but hadn't quite regained that much control over my body yet. I felt my ass rise off the bed a bit and harden, my stomach receeded then pumped into a thick, riged eight-pack. My arms were pushed away from my body as my torso thickened and I felt my back spread out liek a pair of massive wings. My whole body was tingling now, felt like electric shocks were hitting me all over as the process refined itself, added more mass and strength. The whole thging felt like an endless orgasm. I moaned and bucked my hips. I was able to finally move my arms and instantly started stroking the huge erection that was now as thick as my wrists used to be. This was too much for James, as he finally shot his load, the stream of thick white supercharged juice blasting ina straight stream across the room, covering the mahogany dresser. Seeing him lose it triggered my own orgasm, which intensified what I'd been feeling the last five minutes about a thousand fold. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever felt in my life. Once I stared coming, I just couldnt' stop - it felt almost endless. I just lay there, caressing my new body, feeling every muscle in my chest and arms, fully flexed as this hot white fluid kept shooting up to the ceiling. After a couple of minutes, it finally ebbed. With two or three spurts, it was done and I just laid there, trying to wrap my mind around what just happened. James, who had finished just before me, broke the silence. "See? Good thing I got those clothes off." "Oh my god. James, I-I-" He came cover and offered a thick arm. I grasped it and he pulled me up, effortlessly. He put his arm on my shoulder, as I was a bit unsteady and my center of gravity had shifted somewhat. It was so weird- my legs- I couldnt' have put them together if I'd wanted to. And everything felt so light. I mean, I must have been a hell of a lot heavier, with this added mass, but I didn't notice it. James saw the confusion in my face. "Come on, let's take a look at you," he said, as he led me to the mirror. "Holy- that's. Holy shit." "Yeah, not bad for a first-timer man." I'd ended up about an inch shorter than the enhanced James but made up for it in other ways. Everywhere was thick, striated muscle-on-muscle. It looked like I'd been training for a competition for months. Juststanding there, it looked like I was in some kind of freefall, every muscle was huge and hard and pumped. And I was hung like noone's business. As soon as that thought hit my head, my cock popped up to its 14-inches and a clear drop of precum formed at the tip. I felt James shudder behind me and his monster expanded up along my hip. "Woah." "Yeah, a bit of a side effect, there. It has a hair trigger. It'll be hard the whole time we're like this, but it only has to be worked off every half hour or so. Trust me, that won't be problem." I hit a double biceps. I couldn't believe this was me. This huge, thick-- and it felt incredible. "James, what the hell is this? How is this possible?" I turned to him and put my arms out. "What is this? What did you do to me?" "First of all, don't worry. You'll go back to normal in a few hours." "I figured. You don't usually look like this." "No, just when I want to, every couple of weeks or so. I have this, well, friend. Hm. That's not exactly right. When we're like this, we're a bit more than friends." I felt a vague feeling of anticipation in my balls when he said this. I absently ran my hand along my lower abs above my hard cock. "Yeah? You've done this with someone before?" "Like I said, it's an old friend of mine who works at the university. He'd been working on this supplemnent for the military. He broke about a thousand ethics guidelines by testing it on himself when he was sure of the results. I happened to come over when he had changed. He trusted me, so he let me in on it and gave me some of the stuff. He later faked failed results for the government while he refined the process and decided what to do with it. Every other month or so, we get together for a weekend and well..." "Ah, that's why you live out in the middle of nowhere." "Yeah and am moving father. It'd be hard enough to explain one massive nude guy walking around once in awhile to some neighbors, but two fucking like rabbits? Nah, too tough." "So, why me? Why'd you give it to me? I'm not gay." "Neither am I. Eh, maybe a bit. That's mostly come on after starting on this stuff. Well, I was hoping the other guys would cancel. Hey, I'm the IT guy at the office. I know you hit the bodybuilding sites. Oh I know, I've seen the logs for the other sites you hit. But come on, you kind of wanted to be like this, didn't you?" He put his hands on his hips and thrust his thick chest out to make the point. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know. I sort have wanted to know what having a body like this was like. As for the other... it's weird. I don't mind telling you that I find you so damn hot right now." I felt an odd flutter in my chest as I said that. It was the truth, but still felt weird to admit. "There you go," he said, as he moved closer to me. "Now, we have some moving to do. Like I said, we could buy ourselves a solid half hour or so of work until we get distracted by the side effects again." "What do you-," I started as he moved even closer. I could feel his heat, radiating onto me, mixing with mine. He put his right hand on my hip and my cock slid against his thigh. I felt this electric shiver travel from my balls up to my chest. The falling feeling was back in the pit of my stomach, but it was different this time. Way different. I started feeling up and down his arms, tracing the ridges and striations, feeling the tightly packed power just under the taught warm skin. He reciprocated. Neither of us spoke, just feeling each other's huge, pumped bodies, breathing heavily. We moved even closer, tight against each other, muscle sliding on muscle. I knew what I wanted next. I looked up slightly at him, my lips open, wet with anticipation. We kissed. I felt his tongue meet mine. I remember thinking that even those had been enhanced by the supplement. As we kissed, long and hard and wet, we explored each other's bodies, groping, grasping. We fell to the floor, causing the whole house to shake, two 400 lb massive muscle men in the throes of passion. I was on top, reflexively grinding against him, wanting release. I opened my eyes and looked down at him. His arms were up on my chest, huge, thick pillars etched with striations and veins. I put my arms on his pecs, feeling their heat and thickness. "I want-," my voice was barely above a whisper. "Are you sure?" he asked, concern in his eyes. "I mean, I've had more experience at this than you. Maybe we should switch around." "No. If that's as strong as the rest of this," I put a huge peaked bicep in his face. "Then I should be just fine." I leaned forward and laid another deep kiss on his thick soft lips. I felt his body shudder in anticipation as he grasped the base of his massive member and started to maneuver it into position. I tensed my arms and closed my eyes. I could feel my thick fingers diffing into the hardwood floor. I felt my whole body flex a bit and I'm pretty sure I was shaking slightly, which seems a bit silly now. 398lbs, covered in huge muscle and strong and dense enough to be some sort of comic book character and I was afraid? Well, that's what happens during everyone's first time. I tried to relax, but I couldn't help tighten up as he eased into me. As soon as the head entered, I let out this deep, guttral yell from god knows where within me. My fingers dug deeper into the floor. I opened my eyes and looked down at James' face. He told me to just relax, but I couldn't, it hurt like hell going in, but I wanted more. The head passed and I squeezed with enough force to clamp a steel pipe in half. I strained, I grunted, as my body adjusted to having part of another person inside of me. Finally, I was able to take in about 3/4 of his length. "I-ngghhh-don't know if I can do this. It feels kind of good, but kind of uncomfortable." James looked confused for a moment, then a smile crossed his face. "God, I'm sorry man. Here, just a second, this should make it easier-- another benefit of this huge thing." He closed his eyes for a second and I felt him flex and swell a bit inside of me, then I felt a warm, soft sensation, as he began to pull out-- I went nuts, I almost came right there. "Oh- oh god... what did you... is that--" "Yeah, I can control the amount of precum I produce... well, I mean, you can, too -- is it more comfortable?" "Oh yeah... It's--" he thrusted into me again, deeper and smoother this time. "Agghhhh... bett.... nhhhhh... better." He kept moving in and out, driving me insane. I couldn't think straight, I just started thrusting my ass into him, helping him go in farther. There were a couple of times he got in to the hilt - it hurt again, but in a much better way this time. He took his right hand and pressed my cock in the cleft between his pecs. He nodded to me and I knew what to do. I strained a bit and felt the clear fluid start to flow. My god, that felt amazing, it slid so easily and felt so sensitive-- even that had been enhanced by the supplement. All of this was beginning to be too much-- being filled by a thick thirteen inches, surrounded by huge muscle, being pec-fucked-- I already felt myself getting close. I could feel my balls beginning to swell again and my body tense up. James could tell what was coming and he stepped up his thrusting. Pretty soon, he was close to the edge, too. I could feel mine cresting, building-- I could feel him swell inside me slightly. We locked eyes for an instant. Then we exploded. I screamed and my whole body shook-- every muscle flexed huge and hard. I blasted a torrent of cum right into James' face, as he opened his mouth to take some of it in. I felt a flood of his juice fill me inside, then flow down and out, around his shaft. I looked down, he was flexed, too, every massive muscle standing out in relief, every striation. I just kept cumming and cumming, I couldn't shut it off and I could feel James still going inside of me. If anyone had walked in, it would have been insane-- two huge bulging masses of muscle, conencted, yelling and grunting and shooting thick streams of milky liquid. Finally, after about five minutes, it stopped. I collapsed on his chest. I felt him slowly draw out of me, the head emerging with a slightly wet quiet pop. I rolled off of him onto the floor and on my back, spent. It was quite some time before either of us could speak. "You do this often? With that scientist guy? "Every two weeks or so." "Holy shit." "You like it?" "I'm still trying to get my mind around this, but, um, yeah." "I thought so. Well, let's get to work, we have about half an hour before we have to take care of things again." "What?" He got to his feet then helped me. "Yeah, makes the whole process not very practical. My friend's working on it, though." I got to a standing position, still a little unsure of my footing. I was already getting hard all over again. "Okay, what's first?" The rest of the day was incredible. I was lifting piles of boxes, stacks of stuff like they were nothing. I carried the refrigerator out on my own. A freaking refrigerator. I was so turned on, I had to jack about three times afterwords. We loaded up his heavy-duty truck, threw on some way too small extra clothes he had for modesty's sake and went over to the new place and moved everything in. It just felt so good, using this new body, feeling every muscle flex and bunch up, feeling the sun on my naked body-- god, it was amazing. Oh, there was the four more sessions of hardcore sex with James, too. Three more at his place and another at the new one, to christen it. Around nine that night, I was helping him rearrange some things, feeling him up, when I started feeling weird, shaky. James helped me to the couch. I could see the same thing was happening to him. "Don't worry," he said. "The stuff's just wearing off, it'll pass in a minute or so- unhhh.." He dropped to the floor. This feeling of fatigue hit me, I couldn't move anything. Then, I tensed up and could feel myself deflating-- my skin sliding against the couch, as my body returned to normal. The heat from the dissipating energy or mass or whatever filled the air around me, it was almost stifling. Then it was over. Just like that. I pulled myself up and I ached all over, covered in sweat. James was sitting there, next to me. "You okay?" "Yeah, I think so. Just kind of sore." "Well, your body's been through a lot. Just drink lots of fluids. Actually--" He got up and went into the kitchen, sidestepping huge boxes that seemed small only minutes before. I felt kind of cold and self-conscious. I wrapped myself in a nearby blanket. "Hey," he yelled from the kitchen, "were you going home tonight? You can stay over, you know? If it's too late and you're tired." "um, well-- I don't know. I mean, what we did--" "If you're uncomfortable, you can sleep on the couch, that's cool. Or--" He came into the room, with two glasses filled with what looked to be fruit juice. "We can stay up a little longer."I shrugged off the blanket, took a glass and smiled. "I guess I could stay for a nightcap. So, when's the next time you and your scientist friend are getting together?" "Next weekend. I already told him about you, said you'd probably be interested after this weekend. He'd really like to see the effects on another person." "Well, anything for science," I said as I downed the supplement. I could already feel myself getting hard...
  24. 1 point
    The sun burned through my closed eyes and I slowly woke up. I turned slightly and my body screamed in protest. A low moan escaped my lips and I shut my eyes tighter, trying to close out the light that wanted to wake me. A huge hand wiped the hair from my forehead and gently whispered, “Are you awake?” I slowly turned towards the voice, my body bawling in pain. I opened my eyes and let them adjust to the light. When they did, I saw a dream lying next to me. It was Aphex, but not Aphex. There were differences between the guy that laid next to me and Aphex, enough that you wouldn’t think they were the same guy, but the cock that was rubbing against me was more than enough proof that this guy was Aphex. “I’m glad to see you’re alright, my big Aphex,” I moaned. “I’m glad you’re ok. I was worried after I woke up from my haze and saw you sliding off my cock,” Aphex said as he gently rubbed my face. “I really hoped I didn’t hurt you. I flew you straight back here and washed you up and let you sleep. You slept for almost 2 days.” I groaned and leaned into his massive chest. “Mmmm, if I could sleep on this chest all day, I would never want to wake up.” He chuckled, his muscled chest moving up and down as he said, “You know, I’ve never brought a guy home before.” I could feel his meat swelling as it rose to the occasion. Looking down at it, I smiled and said, “Well, let me thank you for the honor.” And with that I slowly moved toward it, ignoring my sore body and started to service that wonderful meat with my mouth. That was about six years ago. I had moved in soon after that fateful night. Aphex of course was worried about my safety now that we were intimate, so he demanded I be closer to him. I couldn’t deny him anything, and I still can’t. He told me his secret identity of Brad Hollins, amateur bodybuilder and lawyer. I fit into his life like a glove. I became his assistant at his home office. I did all the typing, faxing, setting up appointments and stuff, plus it gave him someone to cover for him when something would come up. I kept a TV in my area so I could keep an eye on him. When I would see his lust kick in or when my “lust-beeper” would go off, I would simply jog to the woods and wait. He would always arrive with his eyes burning red and fuck me with reckless abandon. We found out that me drinking his cum and being fucked by him slowly improved my physical being, gradually making me more like him. I became more adaptive to his cock when he was in his giant form, plus I became bigger and stronger myself. I still lift at the gym, showing off my new husband every now and again. The guys there are amazed and proud of the gains I’m making along with the luck I had finding a man. Just yesterday, I figured out how to hover a few feet off the ground. I’m getting hard just thinking about flying sex. I know my big man will feel the same way.
  25. 1 point
    Aphex was the greatest super hero of our state. Everyone loved him. And who could blame them. He was beautiful and gentle, heroic and respectful. He had everything a guy could want and women loved. He was 6’6’’ tall and had to be at least 400 lbs. He was ripped beyond all definition. You could see his abs and chest strain against the sleeveless spandex he wore as he flew across the city. His back was wider than most doors, and he had to be careful entering rooms because he could easily take chunks of the door frame out. His arms were like bowling balls, huge and powerful, squirming like living creatures when he lifted a bus that would be in danger. His legs were like the columns of city hall, thick and titanic, bulging against the pants he wore, threatening to rip them to shreds every time he squatted. And I loved him. Not the kind of love that passer byes had, enjoying his feats of heroism. No, I loved every inch of his body. I loved the way his jet black hair flowed in the wind as he flew. I loved the black stubble that constantly adorned his face. I loved how his muscles rippled with power as he did nothing more than breathe. I loved his beautiful green eyes as he gazed into the video camera. And I loved how he saved my life one night. I’m just a normal guy and, long ago it seems, I had no life. I went to work, went to the gym and went home. And I was so very lonely. Some people, myself included, couldn’t understand how you could be alone surrounded by people, but I was. I never connected with people at work, I was shy and timid around the guys at the gym, and I was gay and afraid to admit it to myself. I trudged about my daily life, each day the same as the last, and I became more and more lonely, more and more depressed. Finally, after spending tons of time in the gym, making no progress, and reflecting on what there was for me in life, I decided to end it. I made my way to the roof of my building, 20 stories above the city streets. Sighing my last breath, I stepped off the roof and closed my eyes. My story should have ended there as I plummeted to my death, but fate intervened. Aphex flew by and caught me about 5 feet before I would have hit the ground. I didn’t know what had happened and opened my eyes to see the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He had me cradled in his giant arms looking gently at me with his sparkling green eyes and said to me, “Why did you do that? Don’t you know you have a lot to live for?” I couldn’t look him in the eyes after that. I just started crying. Me, a grown man, 25 years old, was in the arms of this walking, or should I say flying, dream crying like a baby. He stopped flying along and began to hover. “What’s wrong?” he asked me. I didn’t know if I could tell him the truth, but as he hugged me tighter, pressing my head against the pillow of his hard chest, I felt more safe and loved than I ever did in my life. I told him of my problems, my thoughts and most importantly, my deepest fears. He listened and hugged me closer and I felt as if nothing else mattered. He whispered in my ear “Sometimes everyone feels like that. Even I do sometimes. But the biggest thing is that you can’t give up. You have to be strong because there’s someone out there for you, someone that would miss out on you if you ended your life here.” “But I’m not strong!” I cried. “I’m weak and pathetic, a fat slob with no one in my life to share it with. All the things that I do each day for what I want seem to do no good. What’s the whole point?” He loosened his hug and again I felt weak and unprotected. But he drew me up towards his eyes, holding my 270 bulk as if I were a feather. “You really are sad, aren’t you? Why is that? Why don’t you have anyone in your life, why do you do things that don’t bring you joy? What is the real reason behind it all?” I gazed into his eyes, then down his square jaw, over his humongous traps, his giant arms, his beautiful chest and his amazing legs. A couple of tears fell from my eyes and I shut them out, trying to keep the pain away. He drew me in closer and whispered, “Ahh, I see.” He rubbed my crotch which was by this time throbbing with such fury, it would’ve hurt if I hadn’t been spilling my emotions everywhere. “And who have you told about you sexual preference?” I didn’t respond. “Ahh, are you really that scared of what people might think?” Again, I couldn’t respond. We began to gently float downward to a nearby building. “You know, there’s tons of people that are like you out there. A lot of guys that you might not even recognize feel just like you. You’re not alone.” He set me down on a roof, floating gently above my head like a muscled angel. He flexed his arm for me and said, “Some are a lot closer than you think.” Taking my hand in his massive paw, he guided it down his ripped chest and let it settle on his meat. I never noticed, but it was swelling against the pants he had on, pulsing like an angry snake, stretching down to his knees and there I realized that there were people out there like me, and here was one of them. Sirens began to blare in the distance and I turned to see smoke on the horizon. “I haffa go now. Promise me you won’t kill yourself.” I looked up into his blazing eyes, and feeling the throbbing of his crotch, I muttered, “I won’t.” He smiled at me and started to float back a bit, “That’s a good man. Well, I’m off to save the day again.” He chuckled and few off like a rocket. I stood on that roof for hours watching the blaze in the distance. Even though I felt cold and alone, I had made a promise to him. Plus, I came to the realization that I’ve never felt so protected or warm as when I was gently floating with him, wrapped him his strong masculine embrace. It was then and there that I decided I wanted to have him or a guy like him. And I would have to live and adjust if I were going to be able to get one.
  26. 1 point
    And here is the Redux of Aaron and Tank -------------------------------------------------------- Aaron and Tank had worked together for almost eight years. They both were in construction and good friends, but they looked the exact opposites of each other. Aaron was around 5’2’’ tall and chubby, weighing in at around 225 lbs. Tank was massive, 6’3’’ and 250 lbs, but unlike Aaron, Tank was all ripped muscle. Unbeknownst to Tank though, Aaron was gay. Tank was a proud musclebear and he worked nightly at the local gay strip bar, ironically called “The Cave”, but Aaron held on to the illusion of being straight, fearing ridicule and isolation from those he admired. Each day coming into work, Tank would stride up wearing close to nothing and he and Aaron would start to work. “Morning Aaron,” Tank says with a smile. “Morning Tank,” Aaron turns slightly to catch a glimpse of Tank’s body. It’s massive and hard, befitting a man of his genetic gifts. Tank is wearing no shirt, allowing his massive arms, swollen pecs and cut abs to be warmed by the morning sun. As he walks, Aaron sees Tank’s muscles bounce and flex, glistening in the light. Aaron adjusts himself slightly, trying not to get aroused by the sight of his fantasies. Tank stands next to Aaron, stretching out his massive muscles, preparing for today’s work while Aaron begins the conversation. “So how are you doing today big man?” “Pumped and hard as usual. Had a good night at the Cave last night.” “Really? I hear some interesting stuff happens down there.” “Yeah man, the stories I could tell you. You should come down and visit one day. I know it might not be what you’re into, but I guarantee it’ll be fun.” Aaron laughs, “Maybe one day man. I usually just go home after work and hit the gym at my house, then cook and stuff. I don’t go out much.” “Really? You’re working out now? How long have you been at it? A couple of months?” Aaron looks away from Tank and sighs. “What’s wrong man?” Tank leans over to his friend. “Oh nothing, hey man, you want a soda? I don’t drink them anymore and I have a ton.” “Sure man, I’ll take one. Why don’t you drink soda anymore?” “I got some advice a while ago and I’m trying to stick to water and protein shakes.” Aaron pulls out a pre made shake and a Mt. Dew and tosses it up to Tank. Tank’s chest ripples a bit as he reacts to grab the soda. The two unlikely friends chat and work until they hear the lunch bell for their section. Tank is up and out like a flash, leaving Aaron behind. Aaron looks around and quickly picks up a sweat-stained towel used by Tank. Aaron sniffs the musky man-scent of Tank and sighs, instantly becoming hard. He quickly stuffs his treasure into his pack before grabbing his lunch and following Tank. Tank is already at the machines trying to decide what to eat. He’s dripping with sweat and is scratching his head, flexing the beautiful ball of muscle that resides in his arm. Aaron’s cock throbs a bit as he takes in this beautiful specimen of man that stands before him. Aaron looks around and notices no one else is there. He remembers that it’s Wednesday and today most of the crew heads out to eat. Aaron quickly shuffles to his seat, taking care to not expose his meat to Tank who’s busily mumbling about not enough meat in the vending machines. Aaron starts unpacking his lunch which consists of a few well grilled steaks and a protein shake. “Hey Tank, you want some of this?” Tank turns around and sees the huge slabs of cow sitting there and responds, “Sure man, if you got extras.” “Yeah man, I had left-overs from last night so I brought them to work. I know how much you eat so I knew I could give ‘em to ya.” Tank sits down opposite of Aaron as he slides over a paper plate and another soda. Tank tears ravenously into his hunk of meat while Aaron eats and drinks a little slower. “So, what kinda things happen at the Cave?” Aaron asks. “Oh you know,” Tank mumbles in response with a mouth full of beef, “you got your little guys, swimmer type builds, then your average guys, then people like me.” He flexes his right arm in an amazing single bi. “Some of the guys there like the twinks, you know hairless, smooth and ripped, and some of them love my type, big, hairy and muscle-bound. But I’m not the biggest one there. There’s a guy that’s called Hammer. Dude’s friggen amazing. He’s almost 7’ tall and outweighs me by almost 75lbs. He’s saved me from a few ‘situations’ before.” Aaron looks at Tank as he goes through his tale. His modest 5’’ cock is throbbing hard, but is not visible beneath the loose clothing he wears. “What do you mean situations?” “Well, in clubs like that, you have a back room area. Well there was a guy bigger than me. I doubt he was stronger 'cause he did have a bit of fat, but he was incessant about getting me back there. He probably would’ve had his way if Hammer hadn’t stepped in. They eventually made their way to the back room. Boy, did they make some noise too.” Tank laughs and Aaron thinks about two mammoths fucking like that. If it was possible, he was getting harder. “I bet you make tons of cash between the floor and the back room.” “Oh no man, I don’t do the back room much. I know I could make a lot of money screwing the guys, but I’m just not into that. Besides, I make a lot just by waving the big guy around.” He smiled as he adjusted his package. Aaron remembers that The Cave is a full nude bar, and once again, his erection became painful. Aaron tried to focus on his meal, tearing away small pieces of the steak. “So what do you do after you leave here man?” “Hmmm?” “Well, you don’t hang out with any of the guys here, and I never recall you talking about a chick or anything. So what do you do with the rest of your time?” “Oh, well, I usually go home and cook up some food. Then after that I hit the weight room in my house. Then I shower and hit the bed around 9.” “That’s all man?” “Yup, that’s been the routine for a while now.” “Fuck man, you should get out and do more stuff. You have got to be bored out your mind.” “Not really, I just decided a while back that I was going to work toward a goal and not let myself get distracted.” “A goal? What is your goal that you can’t relax every once in a while? Aaron looks at Tank and sighs internally. Quickly changing the subject, Aaron asks, “Hey Tank, you want to come by my place this afternoon? I’m going to be grilling some more steaks and I wouldn’t mind sharing some with you. I know you got to go to the Cave tonight, but I could offer you a free dinner.” Tank scratches his head once again, absent mindedly flexing the huge 21’’ ball of muscle in his right arm. “Sure man, that sounds good.” “Good, I can get rid of some more of those sodas. 7:00 sound good for you?” “Yeah man, that sounds great. We better get back to work soon.” Aaron finishes up his steak, then tosses the two plates in the trash and washes out his glass. Tank was already walking back to their station and Aaron turned around to catch the beautiful bubble butt bounce back and forth, teasing him so much. “God, he is so perfect. I wish I was worthy of having that. But I’m too much of a fucking fat ass.” Aaron punches his left palm, but regains his composure and follows Tank back to work. The rest of the day is occupied by Tank’s stories of his time at the club. One particular story that keeps Aaron aroused is how Tank comments on how a large portion of the club follows him to the restroom every time he goes to take a leak. Aaron laughed at the joke, but internally lusted to see how thick the meat Tank was packing. His tight shorts revealed much, tracing an outline of a cock bigger than Aaron’s when he was fully hard, but Aaron was curious to see its full majesty. At then end of the day, Tank pats Aaron on the shoulder and leaves his station. Aaron sits and thinks a little, looking around for anything left by his dream muscle guy. Seeing nothing, Aaron rushes home to clean up, prepare the grilling supplies, change and start his workout. Tank arrives early, around 6:30. He knocks on the door, bellowing his hellos. Hearing no response, he gently pushes the door. It is open, so he enters the house. He remembers how the house looked from the Christmas party Aaron held the year before, so Tank works his way to the living room, constantly saying, “Aaron, where are you buddy. He hears some music coming from a nearby room. Tank walks toward the sound and enters the doorway of Aaron’s weight room. He stands there as he watches Aaron lying on the bench press, attempting with all his might to eek out a couple of reps with a weight of 135lbs. Tank hears Aaron grunting and screaming, “Damn weights! You will not beat me! Fuck!” Tank speaks up a bit saying gently, “Aaron?” Aaron focuses on the voice of his idol and loses concentration on the weight he’s struggling with. The weight starts coming down and he is unable to steady it. “FUCK!” he screams as his arms give out to fatigue. In an instant, Tank is behind the rack and has a hand on the bar, curling it up. Aaron lies on the bench, exhausted and dejected. “Thanks man. I didn't want you to see me like this.” “It's fine...I'm used to seeing guys like this all the time,” Tank says as he easily racks the weight. “Yeah, but I bet they're not struggling with a weight you can lift with one hand.” “Nah, I've done this more than one time. Not all the guys are as big as I am” “I'm probably the weakest guy at work. You just don't know how that makes me feel.” Tank shrugs, “...I guess I don't...” He steps back a few paces. “I didn't mean to lash out at you man, it's just I saw Don, you know, little Don, at the gym the other day and he was benching 300. He's a fucking 18 year old and I'm 25 and can't do half that.” “It’ll be ok man, you’ll get up there eventually.” Tank pats Aaron on the shoulder and says, “So what’s for dinner man, I’m starving.” Aaron perks up a bit and says, “Got some nice T-bones man, the grill should be nice and warm right now.” The duo goes out to the kitchen, then to the backyard. Tank notices that the weight room seems to have more stuff in it than the other rooms combined. There’s a full set of dumbbells ranging from 5 lbs to 130 lbs. Tank notices that everything from the 40 lbs up has a light layer of dust. There are a bunch of free weights and a couple of benches for various exercises, some straight and e-z curl bars and a few expensive machines. “This is where he spends his money, it must be. This place has more stuff than my gym,” Tank thinks to himself. They chat and grill four large steaks, and Aaron leads them back into the house. He places the seared slabs of mean on his round oak dinner table that seats four people, and then heads to the fridge as Tank sits down. “Care for a brew or a soda?” “I’ll take a soda man, better stay away from the brews until after work” Aaron grabs a soda from the fridge, and another pre made shake before sitting down to dine. Tank engages in most of the conversation, continuing his many tales from his job down at the Cave. “Want another steak man?” ”Sure.” Aaron slides the plate with the remaining two T-bones towards Tank, and then he gets up and places his plate in the sink. Before Tank can ask, Aaron states, “I know you’re a big guy, I made extra for you. One steak and one protein shake are enough for me.” Tank nods and goes back to eating as Aaron says, “I’ll be in the weight room, feel free to come in when you’re done. “Such a huge guy. I want him so bad, but he could never want me,” Aaron says to himself as he enters the weight room. He picks up the 20lb dumb bell and start struggling with bicep curls. Tank finishes eating and puts his plate in the sink. He then goes towards the weight room to join Aaron saying, “All done.” Aaron is too focused in struggling with the weight and talking to himself to see Tank at the door, “Gotta get big. Gotta be stronger. Gotta lose this fucking gut and put on some muscle. No one wants to fuck a fatty like me. Gotta get big…” Aaron continues to chant the little mantra as Tank walks in slowly, “I finished...” Aaron looks at him with his eyes slightly watering, trying to curl the weight some more. “...are you okay?" Tank walks toward Aaron. He drops the weights on the floor then drops to his knees. “Aaron?” “I can't do it,” Aaron mumbles. “...do what?” “I can't get big. I can't get strong.” “Yes you can...” “No Tank, I can't. I've been working out for 9 years now and haven't made any progress. You said it yourself, it looks like I've only been at it for a month.” Aaron lays his head on the floor. “I'll never be muscled and I'll never be able to get someone like you.” He starts to cry slightly while kneeling on the floor. "...what?" Tank quirks his eyebrow a little, walking toward Aaron again. Tank kneels in front of Aaron, lifting his head up to meet his gaze. “What have you been doing here man?” “Look at me. I'm just a short fat guy. You're like a god, huge and muscled. I've always wanted you but I'm too fat, you could never want me.” “...oh, why's that?” Tank smiles a little “Ever since I met you and saw you lift that huge pallet up, I've wanted to be with you. So I started to work out, trying to get a little stronger. I knew I wouldn't grow like you, but I could get near there.” “Then when I saw little Don at the gym, remembering the little kid that I helped get his ball from the tree lifting more than twice what I could, I knew I couldn't do this anymore. I didn't want you to find out like this man.” “Dude...you don't haffa impress me to get me to like you...” “Look at me though,” Aaron takes off his shirt. “There's nothing here but fat. I can poke my finger in my gut and never hit muscle.” Tank pokes Aaron’s stomach, “Well I think it's cute.” “You're just saying that to make me feel better.” “No, I'm not,” Tank says as he smiles at Aaron “Really?” Aaron looks Tank in the eyes. “Yea, really.” Aaron wipes away the tears a bit. “Thanks. But I still want to have more than what I have now. I just don't know what's wrong. When I said that all I do is lift and work, I was serious. I come straight home from work and work out until past 9, but I have yet to see results.” "Well it's not all about working out..." Tank comments. "Can you think of any reason I can work out for 9 years and not see any improvement?" “Have you been going out and having fun regularly? Not to mention ya gotta make sure your little buddy's getting some playtime,” Tank smirks a little. "Well no. I haven't even had sex or jerked off since I've started working out." "Dear lord!! No wonder..." "What?” “It helps to get the testosterone flowing, builds up the muscles bigger.” “I've never thought about that. I just lifted every day and tried not to think about you.” "Yeah, that's why yer not getting any progress," Tank laugh a little. “Boy do I feel silly. I've been trying to keep the little man down all these years.” “Well, now you'll hopefully start getting progress,” Tank smiles and laughs a bit. “Ummm,” Aaron looks down at the floor. “...yes?” “Well, I don't know how to really say this...” “Go for it.” “It's just that I, you know...” “...yes?” “I...um....I...fantasize about you.” “You and all the customers down at The Cave...so what?” “I seriously doubt they are like me.” Aaron says as he points to a back room in the gym. “What?” Tank looks at the closed off and locked room. “I don't know how you are going to feel about this when I show you,” “You have to trust me when I say that I won’t think any less of you unless you have a bunch of dead bodies hanging back there.” Aaron leads the way into a large back room, opening it up and turns on the lights. Inside the room is an abundance of photos of Tank doing various things and a collection of items that Tank owned or had used. “I...I...uh...” Tank looks around, a bit taken back and stunned. “I knew I shouldn't have shown you,” Aaron quickly exits the room and heads back to the gym area. "Wow..." Tank stands among his shrine, shocked. Aaron sits on the bench and places his head in his head again. Tank turns back and looks at Aaron, “Trust me, you aren't the first.” “I saw that look, you were horrified. You must hate me now." “Dude...I don't hate you. And believe me, there have been worse pictures of me,” Tank laughs a little and walks toward Aaron. “I've always have been into you. I tried not to show it, but I have always been enthralled in your muscles. I would collect things you had, like this towel.” Aaron reaches in his bag and pulls out the towel he acquired earlier. “I would just sniff it, smelling your wonderful scent and then I would put it in the back. But I wouldn’t jack off. I wanted to grow huge so I would be deserving of you. I’ve never told you all this, but I’m gay.” Through the whole conversation, Tank listened intently. Aaron poured out his heart to him, telling him secrets that he had kept inside for years. After listening to him, Tank pulls him closer, embracing him in a huge hug. He feels Aaron rub his face into his barreled fur covered chest and he says, “It’s ok man, I know. I’ve always have liked you and I kinda suspected you were bi or gay. Don’t worry. I don’t think anything you’ve said is weird. I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.” “I didn’t think you would want me. Look at you. You’re a muscle god. I’m just a short fat guy.” Tank stands up and rips off his shorts, revealing his massive throbbing cock, then leans to pick up Aaron, “If I didn’t want you, would I be doing this?” And with that, Tank thrusts his tongue into Aaron’s mouth. Overcome with a wave of emotions ranging from fear to joy to lust, Aaron succumbs to the pleasure he found in Tanks massive grip. They explore each other’s mouth, Tank’s tongue overpowering and wrestling the more passive tongue of Aaron. After about five minutes of overwhelming passion, Aaron pulls back a bit and whispers, “I want you.” Tank lets Aaron go and sits down. Aaron goes up to Tank and ravenously begins to attack his muscles, licking and nibbling on them. He starts at the arms, licking the thick layer of hair that covers them, enthralling himself on the marble like muscle found beneath. Tank flexes a few times, making the muscles jump and Aaron whimpers in delight. Aaron then works his way to Tank’s chest. Aaron kneads the mounds of flesh like soft dough until Tank flexes, turning the flesh into hard muscle. Aaron gets even more aroused and starts to gently bite the beautiful quarter size nipples. Aaron’s cock throbs as he hears a moan escape Tank’s lips. Aaron continues to nibble as he runs his hands around Tank’s body, exploring his shoulders, arms and abs. He uses his fingernails to erratically scratch various parts of Tank’s physique and Tank shows his pleasure with low moans and grunts. Aaron looks up at Tank and sees the pleasure in his eyes. Aaron decides that he wants more of this muscle god and goes to grip the iron shaft that he possesses. Placing one hand on it, he realizes he can barely grip the throbbing piece of meat. Not to be denied from his fantasies, Aaron grips the fuck pole with both hands, sliding them up and down. He thinks in his mind about how long the shaft is and comes to a conclusion that it has to be around 11 or 12 inches. He looks up and sees Tank enjoying himself greatly, so Aaron decides to continue. He places the tip of the head in the mouth, and clumsily at first, begins to work the head with his tongue. Aaron uses Tank’s moans and grunts as a guide and works hard to pleasure his muscle bear. Aaron is leaking pre cum in amazing amounts and his dick is throbbing relentlessly. He takes off his pants and shirt and resumes working on Tank’s cock. Tank leans forward and rubs Aaron gently and approvingly. Aaron tastes the sweet pre cum leak from Tank’s cock and he stops sucking long enough to say, “I want you to fuck me please.” Tank looks at Aaron, naked and begging to be fucked. “Are you sure you want this?” Aaron whimpers and nods. Tank gets up and picks up Aaron, lifting him off the ground with a passionate kiss. “I’ve wanted you for a while too. I’m glad you feel the same way.” Tank lays Aaron on the couch. Sliding him forward, Tank positions Aaron so his ass is facing up and his crotch sits over the arm rest. He slowly works the butt muscles, loosening and relaxing them before slowly sliding a finger into his waiting hole. Aaron moans a bit, never experiencing anything like that. Tank slides two, then three, increasing the pressure and stimulation. Aaron wiggles slightly, his cock throbbing from years of pent up sexual repression. Tank then slides his fingers out and rubs his cock a bit, smearing his pre around for lubrication. Slowly but firmly, Tank guides the giant mushroom head into Aarons waiting hole. Aaron feels the huge meat penetrate him, and while it’s painful, it also feels so wonderful. Tank pushes his huge cock about an inch in and stops, letting Aaron recover from it. Aaron catches his breath after a moment and begs Tank to continue. Tank continues to apply the perfect amount of pressure to slowly stuff Aaron full of his fuck stick, one inch at a time, careful not to hurt his little buddy. Soon, Aaron’s virgin hole is completely filled and Tanks massive balls rest upon his cheeks. Tank leans forward and kisses Aaron gently, whispering into his ear, “How does that feel?” Aaron leans back into Tank’s massive chest and whimpers delightful murmurs at Tank before Tank gives him another passionate kiss. Tank then grabs Aaron by the shoulders and slides his cock out slowly, before forcefully ramming it back into Aaron. Aaron’s cock, which has been leaking this whole time, stands even firmer as the thickness and length of Tank pleasures him in ways he’s never felt. Tank spends an hour, slowly working over Aaron, fucking him in ways he’s never felt before and Tank could take no more. With one giant thrust and a roar that shook the walls, Tank shoots his massive load into the waiting ass of Aaron. Feeling himself fill with Tank’s super manhood, Aaron could no longer hold back the dam that has been building for 9 years. Aaron roars similar to Tank and tenses up, unleashing an enormous torrent of built up sperm. Tank pulls Aaron back to him, hugging him tightly as he shot load after load. Aaron shoots for almost 5 minutes, covering the couch with such a thick coating of jizz that it looked like someone spilled gallons of cream colored paint on it. Tank leans over and whispers in Aaron’s ear, “Just because you don’t look like me doesn’t mean I can’t love you.” Aaron’s cock twitches in response and a smile creeps across Aaron’s face. From that point on, Tank was Aaron’s husband, lover and friend. Tank moved into Aaron’s house a few months later and together they added more weights to the weight room and a larger bed to the bedroom. Aaron continued to keep the shrine to his husband as a joke and together, they added more items depicting their new life, towels they used after they showered together, pictures of the explosive results of their sex, vacation shots of people gawking at the two of them on the beach, and other items. They worked out together, and while Aaron didn’t get huge like he wanted to, he did lose some weight and built a reasonable amount of muscle, thanks to Tank’s training and two times, sometimes three times a day sex. In addition to the training, he got to enjoy his lover work out and flex for him every day. Aaron also went to the Cave each night to support Tank, and every night Tank would wink and dance for Aaron on stage, much to the chagrin of the other patrons. Constantly, Aaron would express his disbelief of his worth and Tank would prove his love and desire of Aaron, usually with a thick cock into his ass. Everyone who knew the two said the same thing: True love does really exist still because Aaron and Tank were proof of it.