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Here is the latest update on the current Patreon Story that I've been working on for the last month and a half To be Continued...

Epilogue When I got back to the room, James had made up Luke’s bed and was waiting for me to crawl into it. I got in and held James on top of me. I was used to being the little spoon, but with my new size, that was going to be unlikely. Once we were cozy under the blankets, James rolled over to look at me and said, “I want to show you something.” He pulled my phone out of his pajamas pocket, and pulled up a picture. “Remember this?” he asked. It was the picture of us in our bathrobes after I’d walked to the help desk with James trapped on my cock. “How can I forget? I think about this picture every time I walk down the stairs.” “The man in this picture is a muscle monster, right?” he asked leadingly. “Unquestionably,” I answered. “You have 85 pounds of muscle on this guy.” “He’s pathetic. Puny,” I said. “And five inches of cock,” James added. “My cock is a whole cock bigger than his. What a tiny dick he has.” James kissed my ear, glad I was pleased with the game. He put the phone on Luke’s desk, then rolled back over. I was ready to go to sleep, but James was obviously restless. “What’s wrong?” I asked him. James never had trouble sleeping. “I’m worried.” “About?” “Everything’s changing, and I don’t want it to.” “We can’t stop things from changing.” “I guess not, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.” “Is this about those internet comments? Because Dave said…” “That’s part of it, yeah, but it’s not just that. Everything is changing. I have no idea what’s going to happen next.” “Anything I can do to help?” “Walk me through tomorrow,” James said. His voice sounded dreamy; he was staring at the ceiling. “Okay. We get up. I’m going to wear what I wore to dinner because it’s the only thing I have big enough to fit me. We have breakfast from the cart as a foursome for the last time, and then go with Dave to the airport. Dave drives there. We bid him goodbye. Give him hugs. Tell him to break a leg and to write.” “I meant to get him a going away present,” James said, cursing himself. “He really likes goldfish. I meant to get him some goldfish for his new apartment.” “They wouldn’t survive the plane trip,” I said. “True. I guess I’ll have some delivered to him once he’s settled in LA.” James sighed. “What comes next after we say goodbye?” “Luke cries. We cry too, most likely,” I said. “I meant after that.” “Luke drives Dave’s car back, and we pack to go home for break. We have lunch with Luke, and if it takes us a long time to pack, dinner too. Luke’s staying on campus for the break—Charles’s orders—so we say goodbye to him once your car is loaded.” “I should’ve gotten him a present too,” James said. “Give him Dave’s goldfish,” I suggested. “Luke doesn’t like goldfish.” “Then their marriage is doomed,” I joked. Without rolling over, James slapped me playfully and asked, “What comes after we say goodbye to Luke?” “We cry again.” “After that,” James said, chuckling slightly. “Actually,” I said, “we might not cry when we say goodbye to Luke. We’re likely to see him again in January, especially if I decide to finish my degree on campus.” “That would be nice.” “Then, we find a way to squeeze me into your car. As soon as we’ve done that, for a while, it’s just you and just me. The two of us alone as we drive to my parents’ house for Christmas. They freak that I’ve gained another 70 pounds. Dad makes a ridiculous t-shirt; I tell him it’s funny even though it’s not. Mom makes me take a drug test; I pass it. We tell them I’ve maintained my 4.0 and gotten all these job offers. Mom forgets all her concerns. We go out for dinner to celebrate. Just drinks if it’s really late.” “And then?” James asked. “That’s the end of tomorrow.” “Then what comes after tomorrow?” “We have a lovely Christmas. We go to your place for New Year’s. Maybe even introduce your parents to my parents.” “I’d like that,” James said. “And sometime over break I decide if I’m finishing my degree on campus, or following Dave to LA, or something else.” “So, you really don’t know yet?” James asked. “No, I do not.” I said honestly. James sighed deeply and admitted, “Wherever you end up, I’ll end up there too. You should let that help you make your decision.” Since James was in such a reflective mood, I finally asked him a question I’d wanted to ask him since the beginning of the semester. “Why did you do it?” “What?” he asked, rolling over to look at me. “Why did you make me so huge?” James seemed confused. “You’re sexier that way. What are you even asking?” “Why did you make the magic?” “I don’t understand.” “Just before I started growing, your eyes flashed gold. And they did it a few other times this year. I mean, how else do you explain everything? The showcase, the soccer team, the calendar, the invitational. And it’s not just me. You got this sudden ability to take all of my cock, your sudden muscle gain.” “I don’t explain it,” James said. “I’m just happy it happened.” “You mean, you didn’t…?” I trailed off. “I didn’t do anything except say the magic words.” “Not even that day I was crying by the dumpster over Victor?” “I barely remember that day.” “You said that a guy like me should have his deepest wish come true.” “Yeah. I was trying to make you feel better, and I was tongue-tied because I was in love with you.” “But after that day, my deepest wish did come true.” “I had nothing to do with that, Chris.” “Really?” “Really.” “Huh.” I lay there silently for a minute. Breaking the silence, James said, “If anyone made any magic, Chris, it was you. The common denominator to all the crazy stuff that happened this semester was you.” “I guess,” I said. “You’re not just saying that, are you?” James shook his head. “Good. Because I love you. And I want your deepest wishes to come true too.” James had a shocked look on his face. “What?” I asked. “Chris, your eyes!” “What about them?” “They flashed gold.”

Chapter 70 I waddled my way down the hall to my last test, my shoulders grazing the walls of the narrow hallways. If I did well on this last test, I was going to outgrow the building. Thankfully, my seminar final was in the same building as my chemistry final, so it was just a short walk. When I got to the room, it took three tries to get through the doors. Between my shoulders, pecs, and ass, it was a logic puzzle just to enter the room. The professor looked at me skeptically when he saw my inhuman mass. He actually looked disappointed, and he made a noise of disapproval. “You were one of my most promising students,” he said. “Ever since you started to put on that ridiculous muscle, your work has taken a hit in quality. And this last month, you came to class exhausted and almost never participated. Why would you throw away a brilliant mind to chase something as transient as a physique?” “I’m not throwing away my mind,” I said. “You blew off your final for a bodybuilding contest. You scheduled the make up for a Saturday. What am I to conclude?” “If I were throwing away my mind, I wouldn’t be taking this final at all.” “Fine then. I made your final harder than anyone else’s. If you get extra time to study, it’s only fair.” He practically threw the test booklet at me. “Prove to me you’re not throwing away your mind.” “Can I sit on the floor?” I asked. “I’m having trouble with institutional chairs right now.” “Take the test standing on your head for all I care. That is the single hardest test I’ve ever written. I’d have trouble passing that test. So, a braindead roid-hog like you who’s blown off studying for workouts will likely drown in it.” That did it. I had respected this professor deeply, and now he was talking down to me, out and out insulting me. I was going to get every question correct, or I was going to die trying. The professor did not lie. It was a challenging final. On the first two pages alone, I found five trick questions. I couldn’t shake the worry that others had been trick questions too, and I just hadn’t been smart enough to spot them. When I finished the last question, I still had ten minutes on the clock, so I went back and checked my work. I went over every question thoroughly, making sure I left no crevice unchecked. “Time,” my professor said. I had been so focused on the test that I hadn’t even noticed my body once while taking it. I rose to my feet, wobbling a little as I found my new center of gravity, and handed him my work. He graded my test agonizingly slowly, looking for any jot or tittle out of place. I began pacing. Pacing with a musclebound body is surprisingly soothing. I had to focus on my legs and my arms, and it took me out of my head and put me into my body. When he finished grading, he looked up at me with a dark look. “How’d I do?” I asked eagerly. “It took me so long to grade because I was convinced you cheated,” he said, showing me my A+. “But there was no way you could’ve cheated with my noticing.” “Hell no.” “You proved me wrong,” he said. With that, I struggled my way out of the room, made my way outside, and told the guys the good news. Soon, we were all intertwined with each other in a group hug, and I leaned into it when I heard them all tell me, “Congratulations, Big Guy.” All three at once. They did that on purpose. My head spun with erotic pleasure and joy. My shirt burst off me, and my tights began to dig into me. My pecs were now so huge that when I inhaled deeply, they pressed up against my chin. That was so fucking hot I couldn’t even feel the December chill. My arms were so massive that my cannonballs had become beach balls. As Luke and David stood in front of me, I realized I was now as wide as the two of them standing side by side. I reached in as much as I could to feel my abs. They were so thick that, as far as I could reach, I could fit my finger into it down past the first knuckle. I picked up all three of my friends, spun them around three times, and put them back down. “Thank you guys so much!” “Look at you,” James said. “4.0 GPA, 18-inch cock, and 370 pounds of muscle stud.” “Let’s go see if we can find something that will actually fit you and then go out for my bon voyage dinner,” Dave said. “One thing I have to do first,” I said. My tights were digging so tightly into my legs that I couldn’t feel my feet. So, I flexed my thighs and ass as intensely as I could, and the tights snapped, flying off me like popped balloon. I exhaled in relief, completely naked in the middle of the quad. “That’s so much better. Now we can go.”

Chapter 71 When we got from dinner to the dorm room, James and I were glad to be alone. Dave had managed to find me something barely big enough to wear to dinner, but I didn’t want to be confined anymore. So, I stripped naked and collapsed into bed, James following suit. Luke and Dave were spending their last night together in Dave’s room because his roommate had already gone home for the break. Alone together, James shucked his clothes, and we got into bed. James ran his hands all over my massive body, so massive that James actually had to lie on top of me. A bed we once slept in comfortably side by side I now took up all by myself. His right hand fondled the mighty heights of my pecs while his lips caressed the sturdy roundness of my shoulders and the left hand explored the bulging burliness of my biceps. The attention caused my cock to wake up and crawl towards my pecs. “Can I ask for something crazy?” I said. “Sure,” James said. “Since I’m already too big to fuck you, can we make my cock bigger?” James bit my shoulder. “I thought you’d never ask.” “I just want it big enough to poke through the other side of my pecs when I pec-fuck myself.” “I already said yes,” James said. “Yeah, but you probably want to make me five feet long.” “Nothing so garish,” James teased. “Just three or four.” “I know you’re joking, but I’d still like to be able to wear pants. And if we grow my cock tonight, we can send the new pics to that fashion major tomorrow, and he’ll factor in my cock when he makes the clothes, and maybe I can have pants that don’t strangle my balls again.” “Okay. So how big we talking?” “I think two inches should do it, but let’s play it by ear.” With that, James got up and got the lube, as I leaned over the bed. I positioned my cockhead between my pecs, and stuck my ass out for James. I heard James walk back from the dresser, and then I felt one of James’s hands on each of my ass cheeks. “Your ass is a poem,” James said. “An epic poem.” Suddenly, I felt his beard all over my ass, even over the sensitive hole. James was nuzzling me. For fifteen minutes, he worshipped my ass, licking, teasing, caressing, stroking. My dick grew stiffer and fought to get its way through my gargantuan pecs. He was so attentive and thorough I was practically panting. When he was satisfied that he had worshipped every last inch of my ass, he poured the lube over his cock. “So, what’s the batting order? Do I make you bigger out of the gate? Do I wait for you to give the command?” Like a beast, I shouted, “Shove your cock up my ass and tell me what a Big Guy I am.” “Yes, sir,” he said. With great force, his cock went all the way up my ass. “Damn, Chris. You got tight. All this new muscle. You got so tight.” James was struggling to get his words out. “I barely fit.” He took a few seconds to catch his breath. “You got so big that you’re making my cock feel like it got bigger.” My cock twitched at the thought of James getting a bigger cock. “Glad to hear it.” “I bet you are, Big Guy.” I felt my cock surge longer, but it still was nestled in between my pecs. “Again,” I said. “Whatever you say, Big Guy,” James said. I again felt my cock thicken and stretch further, but the cockhead was still not through the twin masses of my pecs. “Again,” I said. “Glad to, Big Guy,” he said. As my cock swelled larger, I finally saw the head burst through my pecs. The head was the size of my fist, and purple from the exertion. “There,” I said, a note of relief in my voice. James began to fuck me as I began to fuck myself. I know James didn’t want a threesome, but we were having one: him, me, and my pecs. I matched my thrusts up through my pecs to James’s thrusts into my ass. The rhythm built, and James began to kiss the wide canvas of my upper back. I could feel his chest hair, torso hair, and beard rub against my hairless back. I was so big that the muscleman plowing his way into my ass, the one who was as big as a professional bodybuilder, felt small. With that image in my mind, I lost it and exploded, shooting a huge load into my face as I let loose a deep, primal bellow. Volley, after volley, after volley. My orgasm had caused me to tighten around James’s cock, and he began thrusting with even more force. Still I came. I could feel James swelling inside me. He began grunting and growling. Still I came. James picked up the pace. I could feel his balls slap against my ass. Faster and faster as he neared the edge. Still I came. Finally, James released a torrent of cum into my ass, guttural Ms escaping his throat as his hips took over and, on auto-pilot, he continued fucking me. Still I came. We collapsed into each other and landed on the floor. My orgasm finally subsided. “I wish we’d put a tarp down,” I joked. “We ruined the bed.” “We’ll sleep in Luke’s,” James said. His hand went to my chest to hold me, and it met a huge puddle of cum. “After we shower,” he added. James cleaned up as best he could while I went to shower. When I got to my feet, I expected to feel extra weight in my cock, but I didn’t expect it to be so much more. It felt like my cock and balls were made out of lead. I’d have to do the actual math when I wasn’t dripping with cum, but it felt like they’d doubled in weight again. I didn’t even bother with a robe or a towel—most people had gone home for the break; the rest deserved a show. When I got to the bathroom, I realized I would need to use the handicapped-accessible stall; I was too big for the normal shower now. In the shower, especially since I had some more room, I maneuvered the best I could to get a look at my massive nuts. To see if they could actually be twice as heavy as they were before their recent expansion. However, my chest was completely in the way; I’d have to do a manual inspection. Each ball could barely fit in my hand and was heavy like a boulder. But I could feel the warmth and the heat. They quivered as they produced gallons of sperm and semen, not to mention the torrent of hormones that flooded my body. Just their weight dangling from my body was erotic—even for someone of my strength, they felt immense. Back in the bathroom proper, I looked in the mirror to get a gander. They were glorious. Even soft, my cock made it most of the way to my knees, and my deep purple balls were pendulous and hefty, like coconuts. I leaned in closer to see if I should shave. And my face… I barely have the words for it. I was just starting to get used to my face being masculine and handsome and chiseled, but now the actual muscles of my face had enlarged: my brow ridge, cheekbones, jaw—all were lined with a thick layer of muscle. My face, still devastatingly gorgeous, was buff. I could still see traces of my old self, but they were just that: traces. I had a clear picture in my head of what I’d looked like in September. Now, I looked like a whole new person.

Chapter 68 Walking to the biochem final, I was so glad I was in new, super-stretchy tights. I had to practically throw my legs around each other to propel myself forward, and that was giving my ass a workout. My ass already felt so huge standing still; walking down steps and across campus made each ass cheek felt as large as a globe, but flexed into hard relief. When we got to the biology building, the front hall felt smaller. It was an older building, and I always knew it had narrower halls than the average school building, but now I could feel it. I could still walk down no problem, but I would have to turn to the side to let anyone else pass me. By myself, I took up practically the whole hallway. When I got to the classroom door, I had a moment of doubt that I could even get through it. I did get through, but I had to twist twice: once for my shoulders and once for my ass. Navigating campus was becoming a combination of a Rubik’s cube and Tetris. The biochem professor barely looked up from her newspaper as she handed me my test. As soon as I took it, she started a stopwatch and said, “One hour.” I walked to my seat, and sat down. My ass was far too big for the chair. I could only fit one cheek on it at a time. I tried balancing on one cheek, but that caused the chair to tip. I tried balancing half of each cheek on the chair, but I was pushed so far forward by the girth of my ass meat that I nearly fell forward. I tried sitting on two chairs simultaneously, but my weight kept splitting them apart, causing me to sink in between them. I used up ten minutes of my allotted hour just trying to sit down. “Professor, can I sit on the floor?” I asked, getting a little desperate about the passage of time. “Sure, whatever,” she said and turned the page of her newspaper. I sat on the floor cross-legged, and put my plastic storage box on top of my legs. I grabbed my pencil, and I finally took a close look at my hands. With all the muscle I’d been putting on, I hadn’t realized that my hands had gotten buff. My palm was thicker, my fingers bulkier. My hands looked meatier, altogether more rugged. I felt a familiar stirring in my crotch—my hands were turning me on. I had to take a few deep breaths just to prevent this whole situation from spiraling out. When I finally had myself back under control, I picked up my pencil; it felt as thick as a toothpick, and I snapped it in half. Thankfully, I had spare pencil, so I picked it up, but daintily, so I could finally start the test nearly 15 minutes after my time started. The material was exactly what Luke had quizzed me on. I cynically suspected that the professor had given Luke the exact same final one week prior, and Luke had not-so-subtly just tried to give me the answers. A lot of the test questions were long, open-ended ones that required me to draw diagrams, and my mitt of a hand and enlarged bicep made that a little slow-going. I knew what the diagrams were supposed to look like, but it was a challenge to get my body to make such fine, delicate motions. When I reached the last page, the stopwatch went off. “Crap,” I said under my breath. I hadn’t answered a single question on the last page. I turned my test in, and the professor unceremoniously graded it. She grunted and handed me back my test. “If you hadn’t spent all that time farting around, you would’ve gotten every question right,” she said. “Let that be a lesson to you.” With that, she folded her newspaper under her arm and left the room. James, Dave, and Luke came into the classroom. I looked down at my test. B. James ran into me full speed for a celebratory embrace, but with all my mass, I didn’t even wobble. Dave sauntered over and ran his hand through my hair. “We knew you could do it.” I knew what was coming, so I backed up. “Whoa whoa!” I stopped them, putting even more space between us. “A B is ten pounds. I already got those ten pounds by accident.” “We talked about it in the hallway,” James said. “We decided to treat those pounds as a bonus. You know, to keep your motivation up.” “You decided? Don’t I get a vote?” “Of course, you do,” Dave said patronizingly, quickly adding, “the vote’s three to one; you lose.” Luke snickered. “Can’t this wait until after my last two finals?” “What happened to the freedom of being beyond huge, beyond normal?” Dave asked. “What happened to getting big for me?” James asked. I gave in. “But one at a time, this time. I have two more finals to take, and I can’t take them naked. These are already my biggest clothes.” Dave and James began to move closer to me, but I quickly added, “And let’s do this outside. It was hard enough to get into this room. If I get much bigger, I’ll have to live here.” Once I’d safely gotten outside and Luke assured us the coast was clear, James and Dave stepped close to me. One, then the other, took turns calling me Big Guy. The pleasure dazzled through my brain behind my eyes, and I could feel myself grow heavier, solider, my body a more imposing, heavier mass of being. I had to move my legs further and further apart to make room for the sheer girth of my thighs. The tights were super-stretchy, so they hold well, but I was starting to get worried. When I looked down to check them or even pointed my head down just a little, my chin hit my pecs. My arms were so far to the sides that I felt like an airliner. The t-shirt cut into my arms, shoulders, and chest. It was clearly too small for me now, but it held firm and still hung loose around my waist. “You’ve earned your lunch,” James said. “Luke’s running to the cafeteria to get it. We thought we’d eat on the steps of the chemistry building to squeeze as much of a break between the tests as possible.” As we walked across the quad, my legs were so far apart that my steps had changed to a duck’s waddle, which made my ass flex and contract with every step. I was a juggernaut. When we got to the chemistry building, I asked Dave to take a picture of me so I could get a good look at myself, and the legs on me. Oh, my goodness. If my calves could get a normal distance together, they would rub against each other. I looked like a parade balloon version of myself from the invitational—I hadn’t lost any definition, just gotten bigger. I had to see if I could still do any of the dance routine Charles had taught me. When James and Dave realized what I was doing, they sat down in expectation. Dave, of course, pulled out his phone to film the whole thing. It was a little stiff, a little rough, and I had to exert triple to effort to get my biceps to their full flex because my fists and forearms were getting in the way, but I got through it. “Just checking,” I said. “What, no one-handed handspring?” Dave said, mockingly. I looked down to contemplate doing one, and my pecs crashed into my chin. “No, not today.” I heard Luke laugh from the distance. He’d returned with our lunches and had caught the tail end of the performance. “Not bad for a muscle blimp who’s twice as big as Luke,” Dave said. “Yeah!” Luke said. His tone of voice indicated he hadn’t realized that yet. “You’re more than twice as big as me now. Just over.” His pride a little dinged, he repeated, “Just.” “And you’re also just about three times as big as you were back in August,” James piled on. With all that attention an ego-gratification, I became erect so quickly that it flew out of my tights and slapped me in the chest. We were standing in the quad in broad daylight, and my 18-inch cock was sticking out, completely uncovered. If anyone were to walk by, my monster erection would be the first thing they saw. “James,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “Come here. I need you,” I added, and the two of us went off to the bushes. After a pro forma handjob that was too quick for me to even enjoy, I fertilized the bushes with my prodigious seed and returned to the quad. Lunch was surprisingly sans conversation. Between my test anxiety and Dave’s imminent departure, no one really felt like joking around.

The office of GJM can neither confirm nor deny any Suspicions you may have about this finding... that’s all we will say at this time.

Chapter 69 The chemistry final was thankfully in the lab and not the auditorium. I would never have fit into the chairs in the auditorium—maybe not even the accessible chair. The chemistry building, like the biology building, had narrow hallways, so I began calling around corners just to make sure I didn’t slam into anybody when I rounded them. My lab coat, made for a man far smaller than me, draped over my shoulders, and the sleeves threatened to tear with the smallest movement. I didn’t recognize the person at the front of the room: a nervous-looking slender man barely older than me. “This is the chemistry final, right?” I asked. I had so much more chest to resonate that, speaking in what I thought was a normal volume, my voice boomed. The nervous man stood up when he saw me. “They told me you were a bodybuilder, but damn.” “This is the final, then” I asked. “Yeah. I’m the professor’s new TA,” he handed me my test booklet, and I went to my desk. “Can I sit on the floor?” I asked. “You’d have to, wouldn’t you?” he said. I sat on the floor and put the storage bin on my lap. My pecs and biceps were fighting for space, my shirt kept riding up, and I had to hold the pencil like I was doing surgery, but I managed to finish the first section of the test without major incident. The material had been very basic—this final was more about the experiment than the objective portion. The last page had a set of instructions for an experiment to run. I stood up and went over to the lab equipment. Standing at the edge of the desk, my pecs jutted so far into the middle of the equipment, that were I to turn to either side, I would knock everything to the floor. I had to stand a safe distance from the desk just to protect the lab equipment from me. With a sigh of resignation to my physical reality, I picked up a beaker, and it shattered in my hand. I reflexively turned away from the breaking glass, and the shoulder seam of my lab coat burst open. At least I hadn’t knocked anything off the desk. Refusing to get frustrated or to give in, I grabbed a broom from the back of the room, but while I was sweeping up my mess, both sleeves of my lab coat ripped open. This was going to be a challenge. More determined than ever, I headed back to the experiment. The equipment felt like dollhouse furniture made from paper. I slowed my breathing, took my time, and managed to get the experiment completed with barely any time left on the clock, but it was sloppy. I wasn’t used to maneuvering this body, and it showed. I was a little embarrassed. The TA came over to my experiment with a clipboard to score my work. His face flushed with fear when he reached a total. “I saw what you did to that beaker. Promise you won’t hurt me?” “It’s okay,” I said, gently. “I know this was not my best work.” The TA closed his eyes tightly and looked down at the floor, like he was bracing for a pummeling, and said, “It’s a B.” Then, holding his clipboard in front of his face, he added, “Don’t hurt me!” “A B?” I said, excitedly. “Yes,” he said, tentatively opening one eye and lowering the clipboard. “Thank you!” I said, picking him up and spinning him before I knew what I was doing. “Please put me down,” he said, his voice wavering. He sounded terrified. “Of course. I’m sorry,” I said and gingerly put him back on the ground. I raced to door, came to a full stop, and twisted out of the room into the hallway. When I saw the group of them in the hallway, I threw my arms in the air and shouted, “B!” My lab coat couldn’t hold out any longer, and a large tear formed down the back. Dave collapsed, utterly relieved. I guess he was scared that he was going to let me down. The amazing actor he was, I never once suspected he was worried. James came over and tore the shreds of my lab coat off me. He placed a hand on the small of my back and said, “Well done, Big Guy.” Luke sauntered over a second later and put a hand on one of my shoulders, adding “Congrats, Big Guy.” I felt seismic activity rupture through my body as the rapturous lightning shot through me. James and Luke moved further away from me as my shoulders widened even further. I tried to look down to see what I could see, but my pecs were so huge that I was never going to see past them again. Hell, my overhang was so large, someone could use it as shelter from the rain. My pecs had stretched and pulled the fabric so much that the fabric was warped out of recognizability, not really even shirt-shaped anymore. I looked at my reflection in the window at the end of the hall; my shirt had ridden up so far that six of my ten abs were on full display. If I tried to do anything strenuous in this shirt, it would go the way of my lab coat. I could feel the sleeves of my t-shirt roll back, my arms too mighty and massive to be contained. The armpits and shoulders of the shirt felt ready to explode at any moment. My tights clung to my legs and ass so tightly that I could feel each individual seam as my flesh pressed them out. “Looking good, buddy,” Luke said, patting my shoulder. “Breathtaking,” James added, rubbing his hand up and down my abs. Dave got back to his feet and dusted off his pants. The weight of my chemistry final off his shoulders, he seemed himself again. “You ready for your last final?” he asked. “Of course, you scheduled the hardest test for last,” I said to Luke. “The prof was only available in the afternoon,” Luke said, taking a defensive posture. “Wait for me outside, guys. I’ll be too nervous if I know you’re right outside the door.” James squeezed my hand and kissed my cheek. “Ok. Good luck.” With that, they went outside.

Caint wait for more of a continuation of this one it’s another amazing one

And now, the conclusion... Thirty-Six: Aron The day of Edmund’s bodybuilding competition had arrived. Aron walked beside him into the show venue, carrying a bag of snacks, Gatorade, spray tan, posing trunks, and, oddly, nonstick cooking spray. Aron was surprised when Edmund had asked him to pack it. “Do you plan on cooking in the hotel?” Aron had asked “No.” Edmund laughed. “Cooking spray is bodybuilder’s trick. Make’s you glisten and shine on stage like a polished bronze statue.” Edmund carried a bag, as well. It contained two 25 pound weights and some resistance bands. He had told Aron, they often didn’t have enough weights back stage for all the competitors to pump up with so he liked to bring his own. “But you can curl way more than 25’s,” Aron had said. “Light weight, and high reps is best for pumping up. I’ll probably do 50 reps on each arm. Couldn’t do that with 55’s,” Edmund replied. Aron was learning so much about this experience that he never knew. He thought you lifted weight, ate a lot, got big, then ate less, got lean, threw on a coat of spray tan and stepped on stage. In the crunch time leading up to the big day, however, Aron saw how much planning and detail went into it and how important timing was. After the club’s erotic encounter with Steven, Edmund went into very strict no carb diet. He wouldn’t even touch fruit. Everything Aron gave him had to be sugar free. His diet consisted of nothing but meat and vegetables. It was very easy food for Aron to prepare. Nothing like the intricate dishes he prepared for the rest of the club. Steam this. Grill that. Repeat. The fat fell off him. Aron didn’t think there was much fat to go after seeing how impressive he looked standing naked in Steven’s apartment, but his weight dropped and dropped. Around this time, Edmund also began eating more sodium. He told Aron it was to help fill his muscles with water, before depleting water later on. “You think I’m lean now. Wait three weeks,” Edmund had gloated. “You’ll see lean”. And Aron did see lean. After two weeks on the final, super low carb phase of his diet Edmund was completely shredded. Veins were visible all over his body, in places Aron didn’t even know veins could show. His abs! His Glutes! Aron could see muscle striations all over when he flexed. But Aron worried he was getting too small. At the peak of his bulk he was just over 240 pounds. Now he was just 215. “Don’t worry. I’ll actually gain weight before the competition.” Edmund reassured him. Aron also worried about the toll this diet was taking on him. His energy levels were very low, and he had frequent headaches. “No pain. No gain. That saying is not about bulking season. It’s about cutting,” Edmund had said after a grueling set of burpees. He collapsed on the couch, fatigued, and breathing heavy. His body fat was low single digits and with no carbs in his diet he just didn’t have it in him. Aron ran to get him food. Edmund pushed it away and demanded water. He was drinking a lot of water. A week and a half prior to the competition he stopped doing aggressive cardio, and a week before he stopped all weight training. Around this time, Edmund had told Aron to reduce his sodium content and he also began drinking less water, while upping his creatine consumption so the little water he was drinking would be forced into his muscles. Three days before the show Edmund told Aron to start feeding him carb’s again. A little bit, he specified. The last time Aron made love to Edmund before they traveled down state to their hotel just outside of the show’s venue Edmund’s skin felt thin in his hands as he rubbed them over his rock-solid muscles. All his subcutaneous fat was gone and his muscles were a little fuller than they had been. The night before the competition Edmund had given Aron some money and told him to go to the nearest takeout place. He wanted carbs and more water. “Are you sure?” Aron asked. “I’m sure. Last year I didn’t carb up enough. Not this year. And make sure they don’t put any salt on it.” Aron came back with French fries and pasta, and a gallon jug of water. “Remember I said that I would gain weight before the show. Well…” Edmund grabbed a handful of French fries and shoved them into his mouth. He hadn’t had French fries in months. “I though the cheat meal came after the show.” Aron joked. “My cheat meal will make this look like a light snack,” Edmund said with his mouth full. After Edmund finished his late-night feast Aron applied the first coat of spray tan to him and let it dry. Edmund sipped on the water for the rest of the night. The next morning, he weighed 220 pounds, right where he wanted to be. “You know I’m glad to have you,” Edmund said. “Bianca helped me last year. She was good, but your great.” Aron blushed As he walked beside Edmund into the venue, he played those words over in his head: ‘You’re great’. He had never felt so useful to anyone in his life, nor as complete as when he was with Edmund. He looked up at him and couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride. That physique was partly his doing. After they signed in and Edmund handed in his posing routine music, A young man directed them to the back-stage area. Aron had managed to get a quick glimpse of the audience. They filled the auditorium, a mix a men and women of all ages. He wondered how many were the family and friends of the competitors and how many were just muscle-obsessed fanboys like himself, there to take in the beautiful physiques soon to grace the stage. Each competitor was allowed one assistant. Aron was Edmund’s. Some bought their trainers or girlfriends. They made their way to the men’s side of the backstage area. Large dividers separated the men from the women. Aron thought his cock might poke a hole in his pants. It went so hard so fast at the sight of the room filled with muscle men. The teens had their corner. Boys younger than 18, yet so developed. Edmund was with the juniors. They were bigger than the teens but all still very young looking. There was also a section with older men, who were the largest most developed competitors. All around him men pumped up with weights and pushups, flexed for their trainers, applied tan and bronzer. Aron almost forgot he was there for Edmund until he saw a bottle of tanner flash before his eyes. Edmund dangled it in front of him. He had changed into a throw-away pair of trunks he used when applying tan so he wouldn’t stain his posers. “Time for the second coat,” Edmund said. Aron began to dab small dots of the brown, thick, cream all over him, being careful to not use too much and to apply it evenly, just as Edmund had instructed him. After he was done rubbing him down Edmund stood and let the tan dry. He looked like pure perfection to Aron, like he had been cast by an artist. The tan bought out his definition and made his muscles pop. As Edmund dried, he chatted with some of the other competitors. They complimented each other. It was apparent Edmund knew some of them from his last competition and others he was meeting for the first time. Aron caught some competitors staring. He wondered if they were jealous, sizing him up, or if they had somehow heard about the club and recognized Edmund and him. He quickly dismissed that idea, though. They were over a hundred miles from campus. The women competed first. When they were done, they called the teens first in the men’s division. A short, dark haired 16-year-old won with ease. He was miles beyond the other competitors, and that was say a lot considering they all looked good. The Juniors were to go next. Edmund began to pump up as late as they would allow before moving the competitors into position. He wanted the pump to be as fresh as possible. Aron watched as the veins on his arms popped out, as his muscles filled with blood. He seemed to grow before his eyes. When he was done, Edmund did a most muscular pose for Aron and shouted “I love that feeling! Being pumped!” Aron sprayed a little cooking spray on him and rubbed it in. Then Edmund went off the line up with the other competitors. A woman pinned a number nine onto Edmund’s black posers. Looking at Edmund and the other 11 competitors from the side Aron couldn’t say for sure if he had the biggest muscles in the group (he was too muscle drunk from looking at half naked men all morning), but he was certainly the best conditioned and best proportioned. Edmund also had the biggest bulge of any competitor. Come to think of it, Aron thought, that’s probably what some of the guys had been staring at. Aron heard the announcer speak and darted to take a seat in the audience. He wanted to see each competitor’s posing routine from the front. Each competitor was introduced, they did a posing routine and then exited the stage opposite the side they entered on. They were all smiles, waving at the crowd, and just exuded confidence all around. When Edmund’s name was called, he swaggered on to the stage. His held his arms slightly raised to accentuate his lats at all times. He bent down on one knee and lowered his head dramatically. Then the music he had selected began to play: Now We Are Free, from Gladiator. It was both epic and beautiful, and set his routine apart from his competitors. He moved with such flow and rythmn, holding each pose for a moment before moving on to the next. Many of the competitors made the mistake of moving too fast like they were rushing to get off stage. Their faster paced music reflected this. Not Edmund, though. He seemed at home on the stage, under the bright lights, a natural born showman, perhaps too much so. Aron noticed his bulge was growing. He was getting a full-blown erection on stage! Aron knew he often got sexually exited when he flexed, but didn’t think it would happen on stage. Aron slid down in his seat feeling embarrassed for Edmund, though the muscle god didn’t look embarrassed at all. How can those little posers contain that thing? Please get off the stage before that monster reaches its full size. And as if Edmund had heard Aron’s thought’s his posing routine was over. He waved at the crowd and walked off the stage. Aron rose in his seat again. Three more competitors performed their routines and then came the pose down. All the competitors came on stage and performed the mandatory posed when prompted by the judges. Now was the time to really compare their physiques. Edmund’s arms, and shoulder’s were clearly the best. Number 2 had the most perfect set of abs Aron had ever seen. Number 11 had the biggest legs. Number 5 had the most defined back. Number 7 had amazing pecs. Aron realized how hard it would be for the judges to pick a winner. To him they were all amazing. The judges then let the competitors have a little fun. They could all walk the stage, move in front of each other and flex however they liked. The audience started called out names and Aron joined in calling “Edmund! Go Edmund! Wooo!” as loud as his lungs would allow him. He wished The whole club could be here to root for Edmund, but Daniel was at his weightlifting meet 150 miles away. Brendon was his support, and Thomas was Brendon’s. Aron decided to scream loud enough for all of them. He watched as Edmund moved in front of number 11, blocking the audience’s view of him. Then number 7 did the same to Edmund. Edmund stepped from between them and looked at number 7’s pecs. He then did a side chest pose. Number 7 mirrored him. Then 1 and 8 stepped in front of them both and did a front double bicep and most muscular respectively. Edmund squeezed between them and did a rear lat spread. It was a flexing free for all. The announcer asked all of the competitors to line up in number order 1 to 6 on the left side of the stage,7 to 12 on the right. Between them a stand was moved into place with three level areas for the three top competitors. Three scantily clad women bounced on to stage each carrying a trophy for first, second and third place. The announcer walked on to the stage. His hair was gray, but be was clearly built like a brick house under his suit. The wonders of TRT. He appeared to be a retired bodybuilder. He thanked the audience and the competitors and asked for a round of applause for them. The announcer read from a card in his hand. “Third place goes to number 2, Jason Benoist!” A woman handed him his trophy. He took a bow, shook the announcer’s hand and stood on the lowest part of the platform. “Second place goes to number 7, Ezra Tyler!” Ezra jumped up and pumped his fist. He took his trophy and leaned in to the announcer’s microphone. “Thank you!” he shouted. The announcer seemed surprised by this, and pointed him in the direction of the winner’s stand with a smile. Ezra ran to it and took his spot on the second level. “And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for. First place goes to…” He paused for dramatic effect. Aron leaned forward with anticipation. Edmund looked at the announcer, expectantly. “Number 9, Edmund Moreno!” Steven jumped up at the sound of his lover’s name. Edmund closed his eyes and opened his mouth. He stepped forward and took his trophy, the biggest one, and did a most muscular pose for the crowd. They cheered. He looked like he was smiling so hard his face would spit open. He shook the announcer’s hand and slowly ascended the stand to the highest position. He held the trophy above his head and the other competitors followed suit. Aron clapped so hard his hands began to hurt. He felt like a proud father. Suddenly a little man ran on stage and whispered in the announcer’s ear. The old bodybuilder’s eyes grew wide and he hit his forehead with his palm. The little man glanced briefly at the crowd before darting off stage. What’s going on? Aron wondered as the announcer raised his hands and asked the cheering crowd to be silent. “Please, please,” he said “I’m so sorry. I still may have the body of a young man, but these old eyes aren’t what they used to be.” The audience laughed. “I’ve made a mistake with score card,” He continued. Edmund’s smile disappeared. “It seems second place actually goes to number 9, Edmund Moreno. First place goes number seven, Ezra Tyler!” He motioned to the competitors as the show women guided Edmund and Tyler to trade places and exchange trophies. Aron’s heart sank. He had never seen Ed look so disappointed, but he quickly put on a fake smile for the crowd as he held up his second-place trophy. When Aron ran back stage he grabbed Edmund around the torso and squeezed. “You’re still the best!” Aron shouted. Edmund leaned down and kissed him square on the lips. “To bad you aren’t one of the judges,” Edmund said. “Here.” He handed the trophy to Aron. It was heavy. “They must have been blind.” Aron looked at the trophy in his hands. It had a silver colored bodybuilder doing a double biceps pose on top. “Nah,” Edmund said, “Ezra had a killer physique and I still beat out 9 other competitors. That’s still something to celebrate. Last year I came in third so I’m headed in the right direction. He performed a double biceps pose, emulating the trophy. “How do you want to celebrate?” Aron asked. “We’ll celebrate with the club when we get back, but right now…” Edmund leaned in to Aron’s ear. “A blowjob would be nice.” Aron looked down at Edmund’s posers and smiled. He could see his cock was still semi-hard. “With pleasure,” Aron said. As they walked toward the restroom, a middle-aged blonde man in grey slacks and a white shirt, called out to them, “Mr. Moreno.” Aron and Ed turned. The gentleman jogged up to them and introduced himself as Darren Beaumont, one of the judges. “I just want to say you were spectacular out there. You won in every judges’ eyes.” Edmund raised an eyebrow at that. “Then why didn’t he get first place?” Aron asked, in an irritated tone. “You’re name.” Darren said. “What about it?” Edmund looked at him confused. Aron, too, had a confused look on his face. “One of the judges has a daughter that goes to your University. He heard about your, uh, club, on parent’s day and recognized your name the second you were called out. He didn’t agree with it. He said such a person would be a bad ambassador for the sport and would get no high score from him. Most of the judges rated you first and Ezra second but his low score bought your average down just enough that Ezra won.” “I haven’t seen the official score card yet,” Edmund said. “How far behind was I?” “One point behind,” Said the judge. “I’m telling you just so you don’t lose faith. Your loss had nothing to do with your physique, which is exceptional. Bodybuilding is a subjective sport and sometimes a competitor fails because of someone’s poor opinion. Not all judges are like that. Most of us, like myself, believe it should be all about the physique. You do have a future in this sport young man and I know you’ll go on to win many competitions. Don’t give up.” Edmund smiled. “I’m not. My goal is to be the biggest and the best bodybuilder in the world and I’m going to do it.” Darren nodded his head. “Lofty goal. I like it.” He and Edmund shook hands and parted ways. Aron had thought the club was done with the consequences of Steven’s actions, but some people make waves that keep on going long after they, themselves, have stopped. Thirty-Seven: Brendon He put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and squeezed. “You got this,” he said. “I got this.” Daniel repeated the words, slowly, in a low tone. Brendon wasn’t sure his friend believed them. Daniel held his head low. His eyes were closed. Was he praying or just mentally preparing himself? It was the day of the powerlifting meet. The day Brendon had prepared to walk into The Carson Weightlifting Center a competitor, side by side with Daniel. Instead he entered as Daniel’s trainer and moral support. Brendon had missed two months of training after his back injury. When he started to feel better, he had hopes of putting his name back in the lineup and going on an aggressive training regimen to make up for lost time. He realized that was a pipe-dream however. He was too far behind in his training and the signup deadline had passed. He had lost so much strength during his recovery that he was sure Daniel was nearly as strong as him. He decided it wasn’t worth competing if he couldn’t bring his A-game. Thomas had voiced his disapproval of the idea as well, saying Brendon should take it easy and come back next year to ‘obliterate the competition.’ Brendon had decided if he couldn’t win, then it was Daniel’s job to win for the both of them, but he didn’t tell Daniel this directly for fear of putting too much pressure on his shoulders. Instead he pushed his friend to the limits, every training session. When Daniel said he couldn’t lift any more weight Brendon added ten pounds. When he said, he couldn’t do another rep he told him to go for two. Daniel kept up his eating as well and grew to an impressive 250 powerful pounds. In the weeks leading up to the meet Brendon was Daniel’s coach, physical therapist, dietician, and cheerleader. All the work he had put into himself he began to throw at Daniel. He made him test his one rep maxes with regularity and decided they needed to stop their old practice of doing it all in one day. That was skewing the results. Each day was devoted to a different lift. One week out from the meet put Daniel on a deload to insure his muscles were fully recovered before the competition. During that weak they did foam rolling, mobility work, core exercises, and bodyweight exercises. Daniel’s squat went up to 520. His bench was 475. His deadlift was 650, and his clean and jerk was 325. Was it enough? Brendon hoped so, but he knew Daniel would be competing against some of the best college-aged lifters in the state. He hoped Daniel would find some hidden strength deep inside of him when the time came. Daniel entered the Carson center first, followed by Brendon and Thomas. They each carried a bag. Daniel’s was the largest since it contained his clothing and equipment. All three carried an assortment of snacks, sandwiches, and beverages. The meet would take all day and no one wanted to leave the center to get a meal. Danel signed in at a table setup in the main lobby. He was competing in the Junior Men’s, age 20-23, 264 lb (120 Kg) weight class, raw division (raw meaning no use of a squat suit or bench shirt). Brendon had voiced some concern about his weight class early on. Since Daniel was between the 231 and 264 weight classes Brendon suggested that he try to shed as much water weight and fat as possible before the weigh in so he might make it into the 231 pound weight class. “What if I fall just short of 231?” Daniel had asked. “If I’m just one pound over 231 they’ll put me in the 264-weight class anyway, then I would have put myself through the stress of cutting weight for nothing.” “I’m sure I can get you down,” Brendon replied. But Daniel was adamant. He didn’t want to risk it. “I feel stronger when I weigh more, anyway,” he had said, and that was the end of that. After signing in Daniel went to the men’s room and changed into his lifting clothes: Black Converse All Stars with high socks to protect his shins, and a black singlet, or as Brendon liked to call them, a wedgie suit. They were uncomfortable, but required for all competitors. Daniel kept his gear (a weightlifting belt, wrist straps, and knee sleeves} in his bag. He would put those on when needed. Thomas pointed to the list of events. “I don’t see clean and jerk up there.” “That’s ’cus it’s not one of the events,” Brendon replied. “Only squat, bench, and deadlift.” “Then why do you two practice it?” “It’s a full body workout, and it’s hella fun.” Brendon laughed. “Besides it’s an impressive lift to do so I don’t feel right ignoring it.” “I’m going to eat a little something them start warming up. First event’s in 1 hour and 15 minutes,” Daniel said. Brendon and Thomas joined him, eating one of their sandwiches, while Daniel ate a power bar with a Gatorade. Then it was off to the warm up section. The event planners had setup a large open area with stations for stretching, squatting, bench press, and deadlifting. Despite the size of the room it still felt cramped with all of the big, burly men and their teams jostling for space at the different stations. Some of the men in the highest weigh classes, must have weighed over 300 pounds. They made even Brendon feel small. It wasn’t often that Brendon got to be around so many men on his level or greater. Brendon looked at Thomas and could see his eyes had grown wide at the sight of this many powerlifters in one spot. The clanking of massive weight interspersed with the sound of aggressive grunting. The thick, wide bodies, with their muscle guts and hairy chests. Thomas must be in heaven. Brendon saw his lover adjust his cock and immediately knew he was. The first event was going to be the Squat, so that is what Daniel warmed up with. After putting on his knee sleeves, he stretched and, starting with a very low 200 pounds, performed 12 reps. When the blood was flowing Brendon helped him up the weight to 400. Daniel performed 5 reps at that weight. “Want to make it 450?” Brendon asked. “Yeah,” Daniel replied. He performed three reps at that weight. “Ok, that’s it,” Brendon said. “Now you rest until they call you.” A half an hour after warm-up the Squat event was called. Competitors and their teams filed into gymnasium one. There were six gymnasiums and two auditoriums in the center, as well as 4 stations setup outside to accommodate every weight class, age group, sex, and division competing that day. Brendon and Daniel got their first good look at the competition as they all gathered around the squat rack. There were seven competitors in Daniel’s weight. A few were his height, but most were shorter. Brendon worried the shorter competitors might have an advantage over Dan with their thicker bodies and shorter limbs. One by one competitors made their first squat attempts. The crowd cheered after each attempt. “So how does this work?” Thomas asked, clearly confused. “It doesn’t seem like their struggling.” “This is just the first try,” Brendon said. “They have two more. Everybody starts out low and works their way up.” “And those lights.” Thomas pointed to an array of lights on the other side of the room. “Those represent the judges scores for each lift,” Brendon replied. “Red means it was a bad lift. White means a good lift. There are three judges so you need at least two white lights for the lift to pass. I though you heard them explain all this.” “I guess I was too busy ogling the competitors.” Thomas snickered. When Daniel’s name was called sixth, Brendon whispered in his ear, “40 lbs less than your last max.” Then he patted him on the back. “Go Dan!” Daniel performed one squat with 480 pounds. “That was easy,” He said as he walked back. It was easy as well as on the lighter side. Most of the competitors first attempts were closer to 500. After 20 minutes, it was time for the second attempts. Most competitors added 20 to 30 pounds for this lift, but Daniel added 40 bringing his second attempt to 520 pounds. That number put him in the middle of the pack. Another 20 minutes passed and the third attempts were called. “This is where you really push yourself,” Brendon said. “How high do you think I should go?” Daniel asked “Depends on how you’re feeling.” “I’m feeling strong.” “Then aim high,” Brendon said. “but remember don’t get hurt.” Daniel went for 550. He crouched down under the bar and rested it on his shoulders. He rose and walked forward with slow steady steps. His body swayed slightly. Brendon looked him dead in the eyes and nodded. Then Daniel lowered himself and the weight down with perfect form. As he rose, however, Brendon could see his knees quake. Oh God, don’t fall. Daniel seemed to pause half way up. Brendon glanced at the judges. Their faces were stern, their stares were intense. It looked as if Daniel might tip to one side but with a quick jerk he locked out the lift and re-racked the weight. His face was red from exertion. “Yeah!” Brendon shouted. “Go Dan!” Thomas exclaimed. After the third attempts were completed it and the final competitor failed to squat an impressive weight it was clear which competitors were going to be Daniels main competition. There was an Asian guy with huge legs who squatted 585, the highest number. Brendon took to calling him ‘Tree Trunks’. There was a tall red head who managed 560. Brendon called him ‘Red’. Then there was black guy with a huge gut, but ripped arms who managed 575. Brendon called him ‘Tubs’. There was one and half hours before the next event, bench press, so the three club members ate again. This time it was Daniel who had a sandwich (he had worked up an appetite), While Thomas and Brendon ate a power bar. As they ate, they discussed the competition, and the next event. “I think the Asian guy is your hardest competition,” Thomas said “Definitely on the squat,” Brendon said. “Possibly on the deadlift due to how short he is, but not on the bench. His upper body is not that impressive. He looks like he carries most of his weight in his legs. For the bench it’s Red you gotta worry about. His chest is very developed. I can tell he benches a lot.” “What about the black guy?” Daniel said. “Did you see his arms. Benching is almost as much about arms as it is chest.” “Tubs is definitely second after Red,” Brendon said. When they finished eating Daniel warmed up and then they heard the announcement for the Bench press. The competitors filed into gymnasium three and took their seats off to the side. Brendon had been right about Tree Trunks. He was all lower body and only managed 460 on the bench press, making for one of the less impressive weights. He walked away from the bench shaking his head, clearly embarrassed that he had performed so poorly after such an impressive squat. Red managed an impressive 490, and Tubs pushed 485. On Dan’s first attempt he pushed 440. On his second attempt, he did 475, and for his final attempt he managed 495. Daniel had managed the highest Bench! Brendon grabbed him and shook him with excitement. If he didn’t win the overall, then at least he would walk away with the award for benching. “I think I could have got 500,” Daniel said. “Maybe, but 495 is 20 more than you’ve ever done,” Brendon said, reassuringly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” The final event was the deadlift and that was the event where most lifters carried their most weight. It was still anybody’s game to win. Brendon took out his phone and did some quick calculations, adding the highest bench and squat for each competitor. Dan was tied with Tree Trunks at 1045. Red had 1050, and Tubs had 1060. Brandon was impressed how close the top four competitors were. After another 1 and a half hours, a third snack, and the final warmup it was time for the last event. The most Daniel had ever Dead lifted was 650 pounds. That would get him the top prize if the other competitors all did 20 pounds less than that, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Daniel was going to have to go much higher than 650 to win this. The Deadlift was held in Gymnasium Four. The competitors gathered around the deadlifting platform. Brendon caught Tree Trunks staring at Daniel. He must know they are tied. Most competitors pulled 600 or less on their first attempts, except for Tree Trunks, who managed 630. For the second attempts, they began to show their true strength. Tubs pulled 630. Red managed 640, and Tree Trunks pulled 670. Daniel pulled 650. “I told you the Asian guy was going to be your toughest competition,” Thomas said. “Yeah,” Brendon said. “What he lacks on the bench he makes up for with his deadlift. I was expecting you to top out at 680, but now that won’t be enough. If his second attempt was 670 he should be able to pull 690 on his third attempt.” “690. Damn!” Daniel exclaimed. Daniel paused and shook his head, then he looked Brendon dead in the eyes. “Whatever he pulls, I’m pulling more, that’s it.” “That’s the spirit,” Brendon said. On his third attempt Tree Trunks pulled 695. That was a full 45 pounds more than Daniel had ever done. Tubs did 660 and Red pulled 685. “695,” Brendon said. “Five more than I thought.” “I’m putting 700,” Daniel said as he walked to the bar. Brendon and Thomas looked at each other. Thomas mouthed out: 700 pounds. Brendon nodded slowly. 700 pounds. Daniel stood behind the bar. He stared down at it with a look of pure determination. He clapped his hands together and a cloud of chalk formed in front of him. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. He took several deep breaths which Brendon felt like he was sharing with him. Daniel bent down and grasped the bar in the standard reverse grip, one hand over the bar and the other under the bar. His back was level. His legs shoulder width. His arms straight. Perfect form. Daniel pulled the weight up, but it was no good. He was struggling to pull himself straight and lockout to finish the movement. Thomas erroneously began to celebrate, thinking Daniel had succeeded, because he lifted the weight. “No!” Brendon shouted. “He has to do the complete movement and he has to do it right.” Thomas immediately stopped clapping. “Come on Dan!” Brendon said. “You can do this!” Daniel’s entire body shook, veins and tendon’s in his neck popped out. His skin was beet red. Then his legs began to straighten and he pulled his back up into a completely upright position. Daniel had locked it out! “Yes!” Brendon jumped up. He felt like he was out there on the mat. Now don’t drop it. Lower it. Daniel lowered the weigh back down to the mat keeping his hands on the bar until it was completely down. “That’s it!” Brendon shouted. He grabbed Thomas and kissed him. Daniel collapsed to his knees and threw his hands up victoriously. The crowd erupted into cheers. Tree Trunks had a frown on his face but the other competitors looked impressed. That lift gave Daniel an overall number of 1745 pounds, to Tree Trunks’ 1740. Daniel ran to Brendon and Thomas. They embraced him. There was one more lifter to go but he didn’t matter. Daniel had won overall in his weight class by 5 pounds. He received two trophies at the Awards ceremony, one for bench press, and one for highest total. As they left the Carson Center all of their phones vibrated at the same time. “It’s a text from Edmund,” Daniel said. “He came in second out of 11.” “Not bad,” Thomas said, looking at his phone. “He was third last year. That’s a win for him as far as I’m concerned.” “The Muscle Gut Club is unstoppable,” Brendon said with pride. He threw one arm around Daniel and the other around Thomas. Together, they walked to the train station, excited, and ready to celebrate with Edmund and Aron. Thirty-Eight: Aron He sat in his dorm room, phone in hand. His father was on the other end. “Can you put mom on.” “I’m sorry son, she’s still upset. She still can’t get over what she saw online.” Aron felt like he should be crying. He could. He was absolutely alone in his dorm room. If he wanted to burst into tears no one would see, but he didn’t. Aron wasn’t sad enough to cry. He was angry. The last time he spoke to his mother was that windy April day when she visited for Parent’s Day. He couldn’t believe a mother would reject her son the way she did, though he had heard the coming out horror stories of others. His father, while unapproving, was nice enough to at least try to have a normal relationship with his son. “Did you try talking to her,” Aron asked. “I did. You know I did. I told her we could go to family counseling,” Mr. Ocampo said. “She said no amount of counseling would-” Aron heard silence. “Would what, dad?” “Would take the devil out of her son.” Aron heard his father’s voice crack. Was he about to cry? Aron wanted to throw his phone to the ground right then and there. She thinks I’m the devil. “And there’s one more thing son. She doesn’t want you living here anymore. But don’t worry. I put my foot down to that. I told her at the end of the school year I was going to pick you up, alone, and drive you home-” “No!” Aron said. “I’m not living with her if she doesn’t want me there.” “But this is your home.” Mr. Ocampo pleaded “Home is with people who love you. I have a home here at school.” Aron hoped he had a home at school. He wasn’t sure what would happen to the club house when the school year ended, but hoped he could live in it over the summer. He would ask the club at that evening’s celebration cheat meal. “Son-” “Goodbye. Please don’t come to pick me up. I love you, and if you want to, tell her that I love her too.” He put his phone down. After he said the words, he wasn’t sure if he loved her or not, but it felt good to say them. Aron arrived at the club house at 5:30pm that evening. The sun high on the horizon and though it was still spring, summer was in the air. It was 85 degrees F and not expected to dip below 70 that night. He opened the door with his key and entered the living room. He found the club seated, having a casual chat. They were dressed nicely in their standard going out fair, Dark jeans, and tight shirts. Their hair was perfectly combed and groomed. They looked good. Very good. Aron couldn’t help but notice how much bigger they all were compared to the first day he met them. It seemed like years ago. They had been through so much together, but it had only been 10 months! “Are we walking?” Aron asked. “Nah,” Said Brendon. “We called a cab. We’re going all the way across town.” “What place did you guys decide on?” “Miss Ling’s, that new Chinese buffet,” Edmund said. “It’s supposed to be amazing, and the selection, well Brendon could eat 12 plates and not try everything.” “Then I’ll just have to go for 13.” Brendon laughed, but he clasped his hands together in such a way that Aron knew he was 100% serious. “We got something for you,” Edmund said. “You’ll need it tonight.” He held out his hand. In it was a card. Aron took it and looked it over. It was a fake id. “We going to a bar?” Aron asked. “Hell, yeah, I haven’t had alcohol in four months,” Edmund replied. The club laughed. The cab came and picked them up and in 20 minutes they were being seated at Miss Ling’s. They requested a spacious private booth in the back and were readily accommodated. Miss Ling’s was like no Chinese buffet Aron had ever been in. It was fancy enough in décor to rival a five-star restaurant and the food selection could rival a Las Vegas casino. Thomas raised his shirt revealing his chiseled six-pack. “Hey Ed let’s say good bye to them right now,” He said with a grin. Edmund raised his shirt as well and they ran their hands up and down their washboards. “Good bye guys.” The club wasted no time filling their plates at the buffet. Aron worried their shirt’s might be too tight. He imagined them hulking out of their clothes at the table as they ate more and more. Then his cock became hard at the thought of how sexy that would be. The club used their usual method of getting two plates at a time. Aron found he was eating more now than the first time he went to a buffet with the club. He was no longer a skeletal 100 pounds, and his new 120-pound body could take in more calories. The club made little time for talking as they ate. The only sounds coming from the booth were the sounds of chewing, forks and knives on ceramic, mm mms, and the occasional seat creaking. Finally, when they were done feasting and they sat, rubbing their distended bellies it was time for conversation. Aron was first to speak. “Guys. I have an announcement.” All club member eyes were on him. “I won’t be going home at the end of the semester.” The club members looked at each other. “Oh,” Edmund said, adjusting himself straight in the booth. It looked like he wanted to speak, but he rested his hand on his belly instead and groaned. “Looks like someone’s stomach shrunk during their cut,” Brendon said. “Where will you be staying?” said Daniel. “Well, that’s why I’m bringing it up,” Aron said. “I was wondering what do you guys do with the club house. Do you stop paying rent and move out-”? “Let me stop you there,” Brendon said. “If you want to stay at the club house over the summer that will be fine. You can keep me company.” “You stay there over the summer?” Aron said, surprised. “Yeah, and the rest of the club comes by and visits from time to time.” “Is this about your parents?” Edmund forced out. Aron nodded in reply. Edmund nodded back. “In a way, you’re part of the club,” Brendon said. “Our house is your house.” The club member’s all patted Aron on the shoulder and shook him, playfully. He felt like he had a new family. “Well!” Edmund exclaimed. “Sitting here is no good. I’ll fall asleep. Let’s go for a walk before heading to the bar and let this food settle. They left Miss Ling’s at 8 and walked into the crisp night air. After walking through the downtown area for two hours, talking, and horsing around they decided it was time to drink. Aron hadn’t done much drinking this past school year, but he imagined he’d be getting drunk that night. Brendon suggested The Phoenix Nightclub, citing their extensive bar, and the rest of the club agreed. They lined up at the door, were carded by a fat, bald man in leather who hardly looked at the IDs. Inside the music was blasting. “Bar’s upstairs. It’s a little quieter up there,” Brendon said in a raised voice. As the club reached the stairs a black woman appeared from behind the curtain. She embraced Brendon in a hug. “Guys this is Jada,” Brendon said. “And Jada, this is-” “They need no introduction honey!” Jada exclaimed. “This is the rest of The Muscle Gut Club.” She offered her hand to each of the club members and Aron. “I have seen some of your videos and they are smokin’.” She fanned herself with her hand in an exaggerated manner. “And might I say you all are as fine in clothes as out of them. Even you, cutie.” She poked Aron on the nose. “I like this chick,” Edmund said. Jada did a slight curtsy. “So, what brings you celebrities to my establishment?” “Celebrating.” “Alright, now. I have ecstasy, weed, women, men.” “That sounds great but we’re here to drink-” Edmund began. “What kind of women?” Daniel asked. “Oh yeah, you’re the straight one. I’ll hook you up later, but first let’s go up and get some drinks.” Jada sat the club at the end of the bar and told the bar tender to start pouring. She placed a full shot glass in front of each club member. “So what are we celebrating?” Jada asked. “Weight lifting victory,” Said Daniel. “Bodybuilding win, kind of.” Edmund flexed his arms. “My back is finally back to normal,” Brendon said. “A sponsorship,” Thomas said. “Coming out and finding a place I belong,” Said Aron. They all raised their glasses and clanked them together before downing them in one gulp. Aron didn’t know what he was drinking, but it burned. For the next hour or so the club drank and chatted with Jada. They went into detail about Steven. How he revealed them to the campus and then how they got him to admit his homosexuality. Jada seemed to really enjoy that part. They each discussed their personal struggles and accomplishments as well, in bodybuilding, weightlifting, coming out and more. Jada was a great listener, and master conversationalist. By midnight the club was quite tipsy, but not drunk. Jada had moved on to schmoozing with her other clients, but not before sending up two girls to make-out with Daniel and give him a hand job. Jada did it free of charge, because Daniel was Brendon’s friend and she felt sorry for him losing his girlfriend the way he had. Edmund even got in on the action as well, making out with one of the girls. Aron didn’t care. He accepted his lover’s bisexuality, and besides, after his competition he deserved a little extra-curricular fun. After Daniel and Edmund had their fun the club left The Phoenix. Aron was light headed, and thought they were heading home, but Brendon said “The night’s still young, where to now boys?” Then Aron had an idea. Something he had always wanted to do, but never had the nerve to. He figured with the club as company, now would be as good a time as any. Might as well make this night one I’ll never forget. “Are there any Gay clubs around?” Aron asked. “I know a good one,” Thomas said, looking around at the other club members. “Hell, I’m game,” Brendon said. “Me too,” Edmund chimed in. “I’ve never been to a gay club before.” Daniel looked at the other club members, nervously. Brendon placed his arm around Daniel and said “Well, buddy, there’s a first time for everything.” Thomas lead them to an inconspicuous looking club not far from The Phoenix. A sign on the front said “The Peacock”. The only clue to the club’s true nature was a double Mars symbol on the bottom left corner of the sign. Inside, there was nothing inconspicuous about the place. It was colorful, it was bright. It was loud, and it was packed. Men in cages wearing nothing but boots and briefs danced in cages. Men in costumes lined the catwalks overhead sipping colorful drinks and chatting. Shirtless men with beautiful physiques and flawless skin served drinks behind the bar. The dance floor was filled with men fully clothed or half-naked of all shapes, sizes, and ages. They gyrated. The kissed. They seemed to be having a ball. “Well, what do you think?” Thomas said. “I think I’m in heaven,” Aron replied. The club laughed. They made their way to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. “Do I know you?” The bartender, a short well-proportioned Latino, asked Edmund. “I don’t think so.” “You all look familiar.” The bartender continued. “You come here often?” Edmund smiled. “Maybe you’ve seen our videos, online.” “Videos?” “Yeah, we’re The Muscle Gut Club,” Edmund said proudly. The bartender’s mouth dropped and his eyes grew wide. He turned around and tapped his co-worker firmly on his bare back. The co-worker spun around. “Whaaaat?”. Then he caught site of the club. He paused for a moment then blurted out “Holy shit! I masturbated to you guys last night.” “My name’s Juan,” Said the first bartender, as he extended a hand. “And I’m Sammy,” Said the second, also offering his hand. “Aren’t you guys hot in those shirts,” Juan said. The club members looked at each other and immediately took off their shirts, revealing their thick muscular bodies. Their bellies were bloated from a night of eating and drinking, but it only served to accentuate their powerful frames. The club drank and schmoozed with revelers who came by to meet them. They were invited to dance, but were very popular, and hardly got to dance with one guy for a minute before being pulled in the direction of another. Even Aron found himself the center of much attention when four burly daddy types began dancing around him all at once. Then Aron heard Edmund say “Holy shit!” He turned to face him. Edmund pulled Aron close and pointed to the other side of the bar. “Look who it is!” “Aron peered through the crowd of sweaty, pulsating bodies and saw Steven on the other side of the room. He was shirtless, kissing a muscular guy with dark features, much like his own, on a couch. He seemed oblivious to the world around him. They called Brendon, Daniel, and Thomas over to watch. “Well, someone’s certainly enjoying himself,” Brendon said. “Let’s go surprise him.” “Nah, he looks like he’s got his hands full,” Edmund said. “And mouth full,” Daniel japed. “You guys know Steven?” Juan seemed to appear out of nowhere. “We’ve hung out,” Edmund said, sharing a knowing look with the club. “He’s been a regular here for a few weeks. Hey, Steven!” Juan darted over to him, and pulled him over to the club. “You never told me you were friends with The Muscle Gut Club.” Steven smiled and averted his eyes from the club. “I don’t like to brag, Juan.” “How’s it going, buddy?” Brendon said, with a sly grin. “Great.” Steven said, and Aron believed him. He looked genuinely satisfied with life. The muscular guy he had been kissing stepped up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are these the guys you told me about, babe?” He said. “Yes,” Steven said. “Guys this is my boyfriend, Jesse.” “Boyfriend, Good for you?” Edmund said. “You look happy.” “I am,” Steven said. “We are,” Jesse said, “and I hear we have you to thank for that, all of you.” “He told you what went on between us?” Brendon questioned, apprehensively. “Well he didn’t go into much detail,” Jesse looked at Steven, lovingly, “and I didn’t press him, but he did say that the Muscle Gut Club bought him out of his shell, and made him confront who he really was. If he never accepted who he was I wouldn’t have him now.” “Aww, how sweet,” Juan said. “Why don’t you all come over to the bar. Rounds on me.” Steven and his boyfriend sat and drank with the club. Then they all danced into the night. Before they left Aron offered up a final toast for the evening. “To new and old friends, to love and being true to yourself, to continued growth, both of body and spirit, and most of all to The Muscle Gut Club!” They clanked their glasses and drank. The End (Or maybe not. I have an idea for a sequel, but I have some ideas for fantasy stories I want to work on first)

Close Encounters with Joshua Banks - Chapter I He was my neighbor, had been since I was a little boy and his family moved to our city but we have never really been friends because we were pretty much opposites. I was your typical video game addicted, friendless nerd, while he was the jock superstar of our high school. The fact that we were never really friends quickly changed during our last summer break before we went off to college. Both our parents were gone, we were home alone and thanks to some miracle, we became very acquainted with each other. It was a fateful summer afternoon when I decided to leave my natural habitat, my basement, and go to the balcony. I didn't leave because I wanted to get some fresh air or maybe a tan in the beautiful sun, but because I wanted to marvel at the beautiful view. And, wow what I view I had from the balcony. I could stare straight into Joshua's garden and watch him in all his 200 pound glory as he sat on a lounge chair, eyes closed and enjoying the warm sun. His muscles heaved, massive balloon like pecs moving up and down with every breath, veins snaking all the way from his massive neck over his huge guns to his thick forearms and tree trunk legs which could barely be contained by shorts that were about two sizes too small. I sat there for what must have been an hour, just staring at him, admiring every single part of his glorious body. But then after some time I could not take it anymore, my dick was begging to be released and so I did. I took it out and began jerking off, keeping my eyes on Joshua the whole time. Suddenly his eyes flashed open and looked directly at me. I was startled, frozen, unsure of what to do. My heart stopped for a second, fearing what would happen next but then flashed a killer smile and ran his hand through his brown hair, flexing his massive bicep. That was more than I could take and I blew my load right then and there. Ashamed and confused, I ran back inside, into the shower and just sat there, trying to figure out whether I had just imagined that smile and he was actually plotting a way to kill me or not. The thought of his massive biceps bulging out as he choked the life out of me actually aroused me again which triggered me to start another jerk off session. After showering I decided to go to the living room and watch some Netflix in order to get rid of all thoughts related to Joshua. That became nearly impossible when I heard a knock at the door. I took a deep breath, braced myself and opened the door. Joshua stood there, now with a shirt that did little to hide his hulking physique, but to my surprise he wasn't here to kill me. Instead he had a friendly smile on his face. "Hey, sorry to impose but I just lost my measuring tape so could I maybe borrow yours," he asked, acting as if he hadn't seen my jerking off to him earlier. "I-I-erm-sure," I stuttered back. "J-just wait a second." I rushed into the kitchen and fetched it for him. "Here you are," I said, trying to force a smile. He grabbed it and gave me a very strong handshake with his massive hand as a thank you. He turned around to leave and I was about to close the door, before he turned back around. "Actually, could I ask you for one more favor?" he began. "I need the tape to measure my biceps but it's a kind of hard to do that on your own. If it's not too much trouble, I'd really appreciate it if you came over and helped me measure them." I don't think that I have ever agreed to anything as fast in my life as to that. We walked over to his house, where he led me the home gym in his basement. My hands were visibly shaking, as he flexed his right arm. It just looked so marvelous as it squeezed against the fabric of his shirt. Then I put the measuring tape around it and God did his arm feel god. I only got to touch it with a few fingers for a few fleeting second but it felt so warm and hard. 17 inches was the number on the tape. "New record for this bad boy.," he smiled. "But we're gonna have to top that today. You mind waiting as I pump up these guns? It's not gonna take long. I just need you to measure one of them afterwards." That was a lie. It took long, he worked out his arms for an hour, but I was more than happy to wait and watch him. I felt like I was in heaven, watching him move weights up and down, pumping his biceps to new heights. My favorite part of his workout was when he did bicep curls. It was such a beautiful exercise to watch because you could his biceps or his thick looked as if they were about to rip out of their beat red skin. Luckily they didn't rip out of the skin but out of Joshua's tight shirt. The shirt had fought long and well but it proved no match for Joshua's arms, as it slowly ripped at the seams with each curl. After the hottest hour of my life (up until that point), Joshua asked me to lay on his back as he did push ups. "I always do a hundred or so push ups after each workout but they've become too easy so I need some extra weight." By then, my boner was unbearably hard but I didn't care and I doubt he did either. He took off his shirt and dropped to the ground, in perfect push up position. I slowly got his wide and shredded back, my boner pressing onto his hard, round ass and awkwardly holding onto him by his shoulders, because I was too shy to touch his arms. "What are you doing? You know you can hold onto my arms, right?" he said, seemingly reading my mind. So I did as I was told and if I hadn't reached heaven yet, I had now. It is a miracle that I didn't blow my third load of the day right then and there. In the entire 18 years of my existence, I had never felt anything so arousing. His biceps were like warm granite, pulsing with power and flexing and unflexing with every push up. I burrowed my fingers into his arms as they were unflexed, but they immediately pushed my fingers away once he went down and no matter what I did, once they were flexed, they were impenetrable. Finally after going up and down 200 hundred times at an unbelievable speed, I was instructed to get off him back and pull out the measuring tape. He gritted his teeth, growled and flexed his arm, somehow pumping up his already pumped to the max bicep even more, as I put the tape around his arm. I am not the most knowledgeable person when it comes to bodybuilding but I am pretty sure a two inch pump isn't normal, yet that is exactly what the tape showed. A staggering 19 inches. As I read him the number, Joshua raised his arms into a breathtaking double-bicep pose and roared: "I'M A BEAST." That was just the first of my many encounters with Joshua...

https://i.gifer.com/1vMf.gif Perfect. This journey was perfect and im glad i read it.

Whata perfect way to end this masterpiece. A new begginign for everyone and mostly for our two guys. Thanbk you man for writting this. It was a lovely hot ride

<< de-lurk >> Quite the best series I've read in a long, long, long time. And I like to think even after everything this craptastic year has brought M-G my connoisseur cred is still, in fact, in tact. Many thanks for a memorable ride. << lurk >>

Easily the best story I've read in a very long time. I have nothing but admiration and appreciation for all the effort you put into this creation. Thank you very much!

Something I did notice. The changes are on the same date.

Masterpiece

Isn't that the goal!

Long time lurker. Had to finally post just to let you know how hot this was. That reveal at the end was something!

Amazing work as usual!

Chapter 67 The calculus teacher looked genuinely surprised that I showed up. “You know you don’t need to take this test to get an A in my class, right?” she asked. “Oh, I need to take this test,” I said. I sat down at my desk. Thankfully, I had the room to myself, for I now took up 75% of a table meant for two people. The professor told me to begin, and I put the test on top of my plastic storage box. I did a quick once-over the test and realized it was far easier than I expected it to be, especially since I hadn’t really studied for this one. I whipped through the test in half the time allotted to me. The teacher took the test, graded it quickly, and handed it back to me with an A on top. I left the room excitedly dancing. Dave, Luke, and James were waiting for me in the hallway. “Well?” Dave asked. I showed him my A, and they burst into cheers. James came in for a celebratory kiss, and I felt Dave and Luke put their hands on my back. “Wait,” I said, but before I could extricate myself, they all said, “Big Guy” at the same time. My knees buckled the pleasure was so intense. I saw silver fireworks dance before my eyes, and my swelling body loosened James’s grip on me. They all had to back up a few steps to make room for my expanding girth. My pecs bloomed firmly forward; my arms lifted further from my sides. My shoulders were so wide I couldn’t see where they ended in my peripheral vision. As far as I could see, my shoulders went on forever, and then my arms stuck out past that. My shirt, the loosest shirt I’d ever owned, now fit perfectly. Maybe just a little tight at the shoulders and chest. Even kneeling, my legs pressed more firmly together and my ass jutted outwards. The color of my tights began to lighten as my legs stretched them further. I heaved with muscle. “What the hell, guys?” I asked, getting back up on my feet. “Did you forget?” “Forget what?” Luke asked. “That’s a yes,” I groaned, and my chest quaked mightily. “The day we first discovered this, all the way back in September, when you and Dave were getting me ready for the senior showcase, and you Big Guy’d me both at once, I put on fifteen pounds, not ten.” “I vaguely recall that,” Dave said. Luke cursed under his breath. “So how much did you just put on?” “If the pattern holds?” I did some quick mental math, already primed to think mathematically. “25. I am now 325 pounds.” “You carry it well,” Dave said. “Couldn’t you have waited until after I finished all four of my finals?” “No, we couldn’t. Not even a little,” Dave admitted. After a pause, he added, “Why would we?” “My muscles get in the way of delicate work, like doing a chemistry experiment or taking a test.” My voice grew rough in mock-anger. “You know, things I might have wanted to do today unencumbered.” I spoke plainly now; I was more vexed than angry. “I still have three finals to take.” “I thought this was the plan,” Dave said. “To motivate you. What isn’t motivating about ten extra pounds? You’re welcome, by the way.” I flexed my arm, and my cannonball was practically exploding. “It’s not just going to get in the way. I’m one sexy motherfucker. All this meat is going to distract me.” James rubbed me up and down, feeling the severe and impossible taper from my lats down to my waist. “You deserve the reward. And you’ll do fine on the other finals. We studied. You’re fine.” I saw a ghostly reflection of myself in a window; even standing over 100 yards away, I was too wide for my reflection to fit. “I’m definitely fine,” I said. “That’s my Chrissy!” Dave said, slapping me on the back.

I love this story reminds me a lot of my rps. great job to the author