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  1. Nineteen The first thing I see when I wake up the next day is Luke’s face resting on the pillow next to mine. We went to sleep with our backs to each other and we’ve woken up in this position. Luke’s still asleep, his eyes closed. This warmth washes through my body as I lie next to him and take in his face. His little nose. His cheeks. His hair which looks fluffy and messy like it always does in the mornings. It hits me in that moment. That everything feels better when I’m with Luke. The world feels like a nicer place somehow. It’s crazy how someone who takes up so little space in the world can have such a huge impact on what I think and how I feel. Luke stirs and I feel a sharp panic and quickly shut my eyes. And now I’m just lying here with my eyes closed, my heart beating faster, wondering if Luke’s awake and if he’s now watching me sleep the way I was just watching him. What if I were to just suddenly open my eyes without warning? Would I catch him looking at me? I’m so tempted. But I couldn’t do that to him. So I stir a little and then gently open my eyes and oh my God, I catch him. His eyes immediately veer away, but there’s no question about it - Luke was watching me sleep. “Morning!” I say to him, my heart feeling like it wants to escape from my chest. He looks back at me and his mouth curls into this happy grin. “Hey!” And now I’m smiling back. And his smile gets wider and giddier and we’re looking at each other and smiling and oh my fucking God! What would Luke do if I leaned in and kissed him? I know he’d be shocked. But would he kiss me back? Would he just lie there with his head on the pillow kissing me? His nose rubbing against mine? Would he tell me how much he’s been dying to kiss me? That he’s wanted to do it since the day we met? That he wasn’t sure if I liked him back? That he never thought a bodybuilder like me would be interested in a guy like him - just like he said on the night we went to Glasgow? And what would happen after that? Everything would change for sure. I know that much. “Happy Birthday, Woody!” he says, still smiling. “Or is it Seb?” he teases. “Just as long as you don’t call me Sebastian!” He looks like he’s about to say something in response but stays silent. Like he’s thought better of it. There’s a knock on the door and my heart suddenly drops. Because I kind of just wanna stay here lying next to Luke for a bit. When Emily pops her head round the door I feel immediately guilty for feeling disappointed. “Are you guys decent?” “Mmmm!” She walks in and comes over to the bed. “Happy Birthday, Seb!” she says, kissing me on the cheek and sitting down. Then she hands me a card and my present; a gift experience for an indoor skydiving lesson for two. Emily always gets me awesome presents. “No obligations to take me!” she says, giving me this look and glancing her eyes to Luke. What the fuck? Did that just happen? I have no idea what to do or what to say. I know it was meant with good intentions, but I can’t seem to bring myself to look at Luke right now. “Did you sleep okay, Luke?” Emily asks. Luke nods and says, “Mmmm!” “Right, get showered,” she orders, “I’m taking you both out for breakfast!” “Sounds good. Oh and Luke’s got just the outfit!” I tease, referring to the shiny pink posers hiding in his holdall right at this very moment. I look at him and he’s rolling his eyes, but smirking too. Emily looks at the two of us, smiles and bites her lip. My stomach immediately somersaults in response. I know at some point she’s going to ask me about me and Luke again. What are the chances I can somehow manage to avoid being left alone with her for the entire day? Half an hour later and I’m showered and dressed and sitting on Emily’s bed. Luke’s getting changed when my phone beeps. “Text from my dad!” I tell Luke, looking at my phone. He smiles as he puts on his Dom and Cole In The Land of Ug t-shirt. I read from my screen. “Happy Birthday, champ. Present waiting for you when you come back home. Hope you have something fun planned with your mates!” I roll my eyes. My dad knows nothing about my “mates”. He’s never asked me one single question about the other lads at Montgomery. Including my roommate. I carry on reading. “HA! Feel feel to use my Uber account!” I look at Luke and he’s grinning. “Oooh I wonder what your present is?” I shug, pull a “don’t care” face and throw my phone on the bed. “Maybe he’s got you a Bentley!” Luke teases. “Nah. I got one of those for my 18th!” Luke smirks. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not!” I just shrug and smile at him, trying not to give anything away. Luke’s expression changes as he bends down and starts rummaging through his holdall. I can’t help noticing that he even looks a little nervous. I don’t know why but I feel a sudden pinch of nerves. “Are you getting your pink posers out to put on over your jeans?” Luke smirks and shakes his head. When he stands up, he’s clutching something in his hand. A present wrapped up. Fuck! My stomach clenches as he nervously comes towards me, an awkward and slightly embarrassed look on his cute little face. “It’s not a Bentley! Sorry!” he jokes as he hands me the parcel. It’s soft and square shaped. My heart swells as I look down at it. I have no idea what to say. I’m fucking gobsmacked. I never once thought that Luke might buy me a birthday present. “You didn’t have to get me anything!” I say. Luke pulls a face and awkwardly shrugs. I can tell he’s really nervous. Which is so fucking adorable. I feel a rush of excitement as I rip into the package and Luke sits down next to me on the bed. It’s something blue. It looks like a t-shirt. I flip it round and hold it up to see what’s on the front of it. “Oh my God!” I look at Luke sitting next to me. He’s biting his lip and smiling. He looks all pleased with himself. And he should be. Because he’s only bought me a Johnny fucking Bravo t-shirt! “This is so cool!” I say, laughing. “There’s another one in there too!” Luke says, signalling to the wrapping paper on my lap. He suddenly looks a little nervous again, but excited too. I put the t-shirt aside and see the second present hiding in the paper. I pull it out and I can’t fucking believe what I’m looking it. “Harry Potter boxer shorts!” I exclaim as I lift them up. They’re similar to Luke’s, but they’re bright red. “Gryffindor ones too!” he says, beaming at me. “Can you imagine if I wore these to Posing Practice on Monday?” Luke shrugs. “What would be wrong with that?” I laugh. “When did you get these?” “I ordered them online. They came the other day!” I can’t believe Luke bought me these presents. I love them so fucking much. “No pressure to wear them! They’re just, you know … more joke presents than anything!” But it doesn’t feel like a joke. It feels like an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gesture. “Are you crazy? I am definitely wearing this!” I say, clutching the t-shirt. “In fact …” I stand up from the bed and take off the t-shirt I’m wearing. Luke looks excited. He’s also got that slight look of awe and intimidation on his face he always does whenever I’m topless and near him. God I love that expression. I put my new, navy blue Johnny Bravo t-shirt on it’s in place. It’s a little tight but it still looks fucking awesome. I can totally pull it off. It doesn’t matter anyway, because Luke bought me this t-shirt. And that makes it perfect. “I’ll wear the boxers tomorrow!” I tell him. He’s just looking at me with this giddy grin on his face. “Actually ...” I hand Luke my phone. “Take a picture!” I pose in the same way Johnny is in the graphic on the t-shirt, flexing a front double bicep and pulling a stupid face as Luke takes a picture. I expect him to be rolling his eyes at me when I stop posing, but he’s not. He’s just got this happy grin on his face. I tap away on my phone and upload the picture to Instagram with a caption. Love my new Johnny Bravo t-shirt. Check the pecs! BEST Birthday pressie ever! #muscleuniversity #lookatthoseguns #checkthepecs #woodybravo #mani’mpretty My stomach clenches as I hand my phone to Luke to show him the post. I’m suddenly wondering if the caption was too much. But his mouth just curls into this sheepish (and fucking adorable) little grin as he reads it. As we make our way out of Emily’s bedroom, I feel a surge of bravery. “Now we just need to get a picture of you in your new trunks for your Instagram!” I suggest. I turn my head to look at Luke’s expression. He’s shaking his head and smirking. Although I’m clearly joking about the Instagram thing, I’m now wondering what the chances of Luke trying on his new pink posers for me are. I mean, he tried on his blue ones for me, so why not these? But will I be able to hide what I’m thinking this time as I sit there looking at Luke’s insanely cute arse spilling out of his brand new shiny pink posers? I feel like it could happen though. That I could persuade Luke to try them on. I just need to find the right moment. Maybe tonight when we’ve come back home from our night out. Both a little drunk. Me brave enough to ask him. Luke brave enough to actually do it. And who knows what might happen then. Luke standing in front of me in Emily’s bedroom wearing nothing but his shiny pink trunks. The atmosphere changing like it did that day in our dorm room when he took a picture of me flexing topless after the gym. Who knows what I might say. What the fuck I might just do. Emily squints, looking at my chest as we approach her downstairs. “New t-shirt?” I nod. “Present from Luke!” I say proudly. She smirks, that look on her face again like she knows something’s going on between us and my stomach twists. “Very cool!” she says, nodding. “You used to love that show when we were kids!” “Oh and he bought some Harry Potter boxer shorts!” Her eyes widen in surprise. “Since when did you like Harry Potter?” I shrug. “Luke’s converted me. I bet you didn’t know that I’m a Gryffindor!” Emily turns to Luke. “Are you turning my best friend into a geek?” Luke looks from me to her with a cute grin on his face. “Hmmm. Go ahead,” Emily says, “any change would be an improvement!” Later on that evening, the three of us are sitting on Emily’s bed drinking vodka and coke and getting ready to go out. Me and Emily have been telling Luke about how we both came out to each other at school. I don’t know if it’s because of last night or this morning, but somehow Luke’s looking even nicer than usual today in his Dom and Cole t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. “Woody was actually the first person I ever kissed!” Emily tells him. “Wait - so kissing Woody turned you into a lesbian?” I laugh. “Hardly!” I reply. I look at Emily and she gives me a knowing smirk. “Emily went through a phase where she thought she was in love with me!” I explain. “It’s true!” Emily confesses to a surprised looking Luke. “I was a very confused teenager! It was only for a brief period though,” she explains. “It stopped when I watched The L Word for the first time and fell in love with the girl who plays Shane instead!” I shake my head. “Sorry. We have no idea what you just said. We don’t speak Lesbianese.” “Oh, I told my friend, Max, he could come out with us tonight,” Emily says, looking at her phone. “Is that okay?” “Which one’s Max?” “He came out with us on New Years!” “Oh - the cute ginger guy?” I ask, suddenly remembering who Max is. Emily smiles and nods. And then I look at Luke and he’s got this weird look on his face. Like something’s bothered him. Wait - is that because I described Emily’s friend as cute? Fuck. My chest swells at the thought. “So what would you guys be doing right now if you were back at uni?” Emily asks me as she pours me another drink and hands it to me. I look at Luke and he gives me a knowing smirk. “Well … we’d either be watching Johnny Bravo, that weird Dom and Cole shit or … a Harry Potter film!” I explain. Emily pulls a face. “Wow! You guys know how to go crazy!” “It’s not our fault the campus is the middle of nowhere!” “We did go to Glasgow last week!” Luke tells Emily. He says a little too eagerly, which is really fucking cute. “Woody had a few admirers in the gay bar we went to. Especially that drag queen on the door!” I pull a face and shrug. “What can I say?” Emily smirks and rolls her eyes. “That’s nothing new. Every time we go out here someone asks if they can feel his biceps!” I breathe a deep sigh. “The price of being a huge, sexy bastard!” “I take it he wasn’t always this cocky?” Luke asks Emily. She shakes her head. “It started after he competed in his first bodybuilding show!” I pull a face. “Did it? Hmmm. Can’t remember. Anyway, I don’t think of myself as cocky. I think of myself as … a realist!” Luke and Emily give each other unimpressed looks. “I’m hot! Facts are facts! I mean, look at these bad boys!” I say, looking down and bouncing my pecs. Maybe it’s because Luke’s sitting next to me, but I’m feeling extra mischievous. “Not to mention my arse!” I get on my knees, turn around, pull my t-shirt up and stick out my bum. “I mean, come on - that is one hot ass!” I say, giving it a wiggle. Luke’s rolling his eyes and shaking head but he’s smiling like crazy. “Sorry! Not doing anything for me, I’m afraid!” Emily says. I sit back down next to Luke, feeling a rush at knowing he approved of my display of playful cockiness. “Max says is it okay if he brings a mate along tonight?” Emily says, reading off her phone screen. I shrug. “Fine by me! More admirers to feel my biceps!” Emily rolls her eyes and pours another vodka and coke. “We probably should get a move on,” she says, handing me the glass. “Do you guys need to change before we go out?” Luke says yes. I look down at the blue Johnny Bravo t-shirt he gifted me this morning. I think it’s possibly my favourite t-shirt I’ve ever owned. “Mmmm. Dunno if I can be arsed to change!” I reply. But I’m not really keeping my birthday present from Luke on out of laziness. I just don’t really want to take it off. I look down at my chest. “What do you think, boys? Shall I keep my Johnny Bravo t-shirt on? Bounce twice for yes, once for no!” Then I bounce my pecs twice. I look up at Luke, who’s beaming and biting his lip. Dimples out in full force. “The pecs have spoken!” One Chinese restaurant later and the three of us are walking into a darkly lit gay pub. It’s unpretentious with a slightly older crowd with very few girls. Heads are turning. Even more so when I take my bomber jacket off. There’s a group of three guys not far away from us and all of them are literally just staring. Luke and Emily are exchanging knowing smirks. As usual, I’m fucking loving it. “Don’t you ever get bored of people staring?” Emily asks as we sit down at a table in one corner of the pub. “Nope! Anyway, this is a rarity. I get zero attention back at Montgomery. Trust me!” “That’s not strictly true!” Luke says, with one eyebrow raised. I smirk and look at him confused. “Deano and Shaun have been giving you plenty of attention lately!” “Ugh!” I say, taking a swig of my drink. “Deano and Shaun are these two absolute fucking knobs!” I tell Emily. “They’ve been giving me a hard time because I … may have made a couple of flirty comments with some gay guy on Instagram!” Emily screws her face up. “And?” “Exactly!” I say to her. “Honestly, it’s like being back at school sometimes!” “You two can’t be the only gay guys at your uni!” I look at Luke and he gives me a little grin. “I really wouldn’t be surprised if we were!” I reply. “You should start an LGBTQ+ society!” Emily suggests. I laugh. “I think Montgomery might be missing a few of those letters! Like everything but the G. Although there could be a few closeted B’s there I suppose!” “Okay … a GB society then!” Emily says, grinning. “That would just be me and Luke hanging out and going to the SU bar. Which is basically what we do anyway!” A little later on and I’m re-joining the table after having used the toilets. Luke and Emily have both got suspicious smirks on their faces. Like they’ve been talking about me. “What?” I ask the both of them, feeling a flutter of excitement. Luke shrugs as if to say nothing but they carry on smirking at me. “So, er … you never told me what colour your Bentley was!” Luke says. I shrug. “Which one?” Emily smirks and rolls her eyes. “He can’t even drive!” Luke looks surprised and smiles. “Really?” I shrug. “What’s the point? I can just use my dad’s Uber account!” I turn to Emily. “Luke thinks I’m some super spoilt rich kid!” She pulls a face. “Well …” she teases. I feel a tug in my stomach. “I’m not spoilt!” I protest. Emily pulls another face. What the fuck? “I know!” Luke says, “don’t tell me - you had a job back home and everything!” Emily looks confused. “What job?!” My stomach clenches. “At the restaurant!” I say, defensively. “You quit after two weeks ‘cause you didn’t like being told what to do!” What the fuck? Okay now I’m pissed off. “Erm, actually I quit because I was prepping for a bodybuilding show and didn’t want any distractions!” Emily looks at Luke, and suddenly there’s this tension. She clearly knows she’s pushed me too far. Luke suddenly looks a little awkward. “Okay!” Emily says, with her hands up, trying to lighten the mood. But it doesn’t work. And now I’m in a bad mood. They start talking about something else, and I offer to get the next round in, not making eye contact with either of them as I go to the bar. I know what Emily’s saying about me. She’s probably telling Luke that I’ve got the hump and that I’ll snap out of it. When I get back to the table Luke’s excused himself to the bathroom. I’m still pissed off. “What’s up with you?” Emily asks. I shrug and take a sip of my drink. Then I make eye contact with her and she’s giving me this look like I’m being stupid. “Seb! Come on!” I feel myself softening. “I just … don’t like people thinking I’m this spoilt rich kid!” I sigh. “But Seb - you were the one who used those words. Not us!” “I know, but … people get weird when they find out my parents are well off. And …” I pause and shrug, “I just don’t want Luke to have that impression of me!” “Seb, I don’t think he cares!” “But why did you have to say that about me quitting my job?” She looks a little guilty. “I was just winding you up. Sorry!” She gives me a warm smile and I cave, roll my eyes and smile back at her. I look in the direction of the mens toilets to check Luke’s not coming back. “I just keep ...” then I shake my head, “doesn’t matter!” “What?” Emily asks. My stomach clenches. I know I’m veering into dangerous territory talking about Luke. “Tell me!” she gently orders. I shrug and say it like it’s not a big deal. “I just keep thinking Luke’s gonna suddenly come to his senses!” She looks at me with a confused expression but I can see her mouth starting to curl. “What do you mean?” Oh God. This is definitely dangerous territory. What am I doing? I’ve been dreading talking to Emily about Luke. About revealing my feelings for him. But at this very moment, ironically, I actually think I want to talk about it. I sigh and shrug. “Like he’s suddenly gonna wake up and realise that … I dunno, I’m a twat!” I confess, rolling my eyes. She shakes her head at me like I’m being stupid, now giving me this knowing, ominous smirk. As if she can read me like a book. Like she knows the real reason I’m so worried about what Luke thinks. Because of course she bloody does. “I never thought I’d see the day!” Oh God. My stomach twists. “What?!” I ask, pleading ignorant, though I really don’t know why I’m bothering. “You know what!” she says gently, still smiling. “You’ve got feelings for him haven’t you?” It’s totally unexpected but I suddenly feel my eyes water. I cover my face with both hands and let out a dramatic little groan. It’s like I don’t want her to see my face. Like I’m scared she’ll see my vulnerability. “You actually like someone!” she says, grabbing my wrist and giving it a little squeeze. I cautiously take my hands away and she’s giving me this warm, happy smile. I let her carry on gripping my wrist. And now I’m feeling something else. Something I definitely hadn’t expected to feel. This wave of relief. That someone actually knows. That I can actually talk about what’s been constantly on my mind for weeks. I let out a sigh. “I can’t stop thinking about him!” I confess, shaking my head. “Is that ... normal?” Emily’s smile gets bigger. “Yes!” “I go to bed and I’m thinking about him. I wake up and the first thing I wonder is whether he’s still asleep!” I don’t know what’s gotten into me. But I can’t seem to stop myself from talking. “I’m in class and I’m wondering whether he’s gonna be sitting in the room when I get back. I keep thinking of excuses to sit with him on his bed. The other day he wasn’t home and I actually did sit on his bed! I didn’t know what I was doing! I was just sat there. I knew it was wrong. But it felt … I dunno, nice, just sitting on his fucking bed!” I don’t tell Emily that on that particular occasion, I also picked up one of his pillows and buried my face in it because I knew it would smell like him. I don’t tell her that I keep wearing the Muscle University hoodie I leant him because I can smell his aftershave on it. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” I ask her, shaking my head. She bites her lip, continuing to give me that warm, happy grin. “There’s this part of me that kinda hates it though!” I confess. “Is that normal?” Emily pulls a face and shrugs. “Hmmm. Dunno. Maybe that’s just you freaking out? And maybe, you know ... not feeling like you’re in control?” My stomach twists and I breathe a heavy sigh. Sneaking around sniffing boys pillows because they smell like them. I’d say that’s out of control. I’d say that borders on pretty fucking crazy. And then Emily says something which makes my whole body feel like it’s been set on fire. “You know he likes you back, right?” Fuck! “Mmmm. I dunno!” Fucking, fuckity fuck. “Oh come on, Seb!” It feels like my heart’s blowing up in my chest. I glance around to make sure Luke’s not on his way back to the table. “How do you know though?” I ask Emily, lowering my voice. “Because he looks at you the same way you look at him!” Oh my God. Emily’s right. I know she’s fucking right. I think I’ve known that Luke likes me for a while. Whether it’s anywhere near as much as I like I don’t know. I feel this sudden rush of excitement. But I’m kinda terrified too. “So what do I do?” She smiles and shrugs. “That’s up to you!” I look around again to make sure he’s not coming back to the table. “I think half of me just wants to ignore it. See if these, you know, feelings,” (I roll my eyes), “or whatever, go away!” “And the other half?” My insides clench and I smile at her. Then her facial expression suddenly changes and I know exactly why. I turn my head and, sure enough, Luke’s come back to the table. Both me and Emily try and act normal as he sits down, but there’s this unspoken tension. Luke looks a little suspicious. And also seems a bit nervous. God - I hope he doesn’t suspect that we were just talking about him. “Luke - Seb was just saying he wants to sing you another one of our Two The Same songs!” Emily says. “Erm … no, Seb was fucking not!” I reply. I look at Luke and his mouth curls into this big, cute, dimple showing grin. God I love those dimples. “Ooooh. There’s Max!” Emily says, looking over my shoulder. I turn around I can see cute, ginger Max with another guy. Emily gets up and goes towards them, leaving me sitting at the table with Luke. That tension is still there. I’m thinking about what Emily just said. That Luke likes me. I don’t know how much, I don’t know how deep those feelings go, but I know he likes me. And I have absolutely no idea what to do. I’ve never been in this situation before. Someone likes me who I actually like back. What if I kiss him and it’s nothing like I imagined? What if we act on our feelings and we realise it was one monumental mistake and then our friendship is ruined? What if I do something stupid and reckless and completely fuck things up? But what it, just what if, I kiss Luke and it’s fucking amazing? What if it’s everything I’ve imagined and bloody more?
    11 points
  2. The phone rang again— a telemarketer. Max slammed the phone down and let out a grunt of frustration. He didn’t have the time for this and he knew it. He was a goddamn corporate manager, not some secretary with enough energy to spare to answer spam phone calls. Weren’t they supposed to filter those out anyway? Max let out a deep breath through his nose as he looked over at the framed picture on his desk. There he was, in his cap and gown, graduation from university. He still had a bright smile then, so full of hope, still optimistic. His smooth brown hair was all tousled from wearing that dumb graduation cap, yet it still looked like it was meant that way, like it was going with the flow. His entire personality fit it well. Back in his college days, Max was known to be a chill guy. He did whatever he liked and usually got it when he asked, his striking eyes and toned body were impossible to ignore. But times have changed. Things are different. What was once a six pack was now a beer belly. Beautifully styled hair was neglected in a greasy mess. He had money, sure, but he wanted his vitality back. He wanted to be powerful. The job wasn’t too bad. He had power, sure, but it wasn’t the same. Power to tell people what to do had its limits. It had its laws. But human strength, that was something he craved. Nobody could control his own body. Max stood up and stretched, pulling his arms over his head and twisting his back. “Nobody could control his body” was right. He could decide when to move or what to do; so he took a walk around the office with a stack of papers in his hands. They weren’t actual important papers, mind you, but they allowed him to move without question. Nobody asked what you were doing when you had a stack of papers in your hands. Max opened the office door and picked up his random stack on the desk parallel to his glass office wall. “Hey, Max!” Phoebe interrupted from a cubicle nearby. Although neither of them could see each other, she knew the sound of his door opening and she took her chance at his attention. “Can I get some help with this invoice? There’s some inconsistencies and—“ Max interrupted. “Sorry Phoebe I’m busy right now. Ask someone around you.” He abruptly turned to the right and strolled along the gray corridors, glancing at the posters framed on the bland walls. “Big Action Protein Powder!” “Mega Large Testosterone Booster for Men!!” ”Giant XXX Hormone Set Extreme!!!” over and over masculinity was shoved in his face. Overseeing a “men’s fitness” company was cool at first, but he was no longer 21. He was what the gay men called “daddy,” which both stung and aroused him. Unfortunately, he had been so busy with work that no men had been calling him at all for months. “Maxie! Come over here, will ya?” a voice called, this one not immediately recognizable. It was a male voice, but lower pitched than he was used to. Maybe it was a new intern. Hopefully not, however, because someone new shouldn’t be calling him nicknames already. But before Max could object, he continued. “It’s the research department! They’re having major issues.” the research department. That explained it. He nearly never had business there since it wasn’t in his jurisdiction really. He only worked on the sales floor. Nevertheless, his walk would have to wait, so he set the stack of assorted papers down on the floor and went into the elevator where the voice came from. Luckily, it wasn’t far away and the papers were out of foot traffic, so he’d be okay leaving them behind. When Max emerged from the office hideaway and through the metallic elevator doors, he nearly knocked over a poor scrawny man half his height. He must have been a little under five feet tall, and he probably weighed as much as Max’s beefy arms. His face, however, was still round and childish, defying the thinness of the rest of his body. When Max looked down, all he could really see was his cheeks and his wiry gray hair that fell past his forehead. He must have been one of those young people who were into looking like grandparents. Gray was not his color. “I’m sorry about that,” Max apologized. “What’s the problem?” the man didn’t look up but took a step back to give him more room. Then, still not responding, he leaned across the floor and pressed the bottom button on the elevator, sending it down. “You see,” he began. “Marcy had some troubles with a new supplement because the male subjects got ill at the same time and the women refuse to test it.” Max nodded along, but secretly, he had no idea who Marcy was. “Furthermore, I’ll allergic to one of the components. It’s supposed to help your...” he paused, glancing up only briefly. “Your male parts.” Max had to hold in a laugh. They worked at a male enhancing company and this man refused to say penis. “I understand sir. What do you need me for then?” ”Well,” he said. “We just need a quick trial test and then it’ll be over...” ”Fuck no. I’m not insured for this stuff! I’m not going to be stupid and agree to take whatever it is!” the man tried to stutter his way to goading him, but Max refused. When the elevator doors opened, he closed them and pressed the button to go back to sales. What he didn’t do, however, is look down at the man slipping a small piece of tape onto his black work pants. The man scuttled away into research and Max went back upstairs, picking up his papers, and finishing his walk with relative ease. He set the stack back on his desk and walked inside his office, turning the blinds so he can get some privacy, and opening up his computer. Emails. Spam. Bills. It was all the same. He looked at the clock. 5:13. Almost 45 minutes until he could leave. He shifted in his cushy black office chair and rearranged his legs. “Fuck I need to get that AC fixed,” Max complained. It was getting hotter. He shifted again in his seat and tried to get comfortable. For some reason, his balls kept on getting in the way. No matter which way he moved, they blocked him from comfort. After minutes of trying, he stood up, rearranged himself, and tried to sit back down. His chair was a gift from his ex boyfriend. It was about four feet tall, rolled well, and was always comfortable when he laid his arms on the armrests. The same armrests which refused to let his ass slip through all of a sudden. Max grunted and tried to squeeze in, but the harder he pushed, the tighter it got. He was just in it a second ago! How could it be? He started to sweat, small pools forming at his armpits, spreading along the white button up shirt like someone left a hose on. He took off his navy suit jacket and set it on his wooden desk while he tried to cool down, but it was still too hot. Taking off his black tie didn’t help either. Neither did unbuttoning his top button. Max kept shoving himself into that seat over and over again until he heard a loud rip. Slowly, he stood back up and grazed his hand across the back, anticipating the worst. To his dismay, there it was, a giant rip in the back of his pants, exposing the bright blue Lycra underwear he had on. “It’s okay,” he repeated to himself. Over and over he whispered this as he reached for his suit jacket to tie around his waist. But as he grabbed it, he heard another rip coming from his shoulder. Then when he stood up, his shirt untucked itself from underneath his pants and his belt. Max looked around helplessly, trying to figure out what was going on. Research department. It had to be. His body started warming up even more, but he couldn’t leave before he fixed his wardrobe. There was no way he’d let himself be seen with a ripped shirt AND ripped pants. A jacket couldn’t cover it all. So, with no other options, he looked around for a blanket or sheet he could use. Rummaging around a tiny office didn’t help much because he knew where everything was. There was no blanket. No sheet. Just stupid papers and knickknacks he stashed away. If he had the time, he would have looked at them a bit longer, but he was in a hurry. It was getting hotter. Max stripped off his shoes and socks and threw them against the wall with a loud bang as he resumed scrambling for anything to hide himself until he stopped growing. “Max? You okay dear? We heard a thumpy sound.” fuck. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this. “Y-Yeah! Dropped my stapler. Thank you for checking. I’m alright!” he heard footsteps dissipate into nothingness, and he let out a sigh of relief. He had more time. Or so he thought. Suddenly, without any warning, one thought , and one thought only, entered his mind— sex. It was orgasmic. His pants became tighter and tighter as he felt his bulge start to balloon, his cock pushing against the fabric as it got harder and harder. Then, with a burst of size, another rip, this time from the front. He let his gargantuan cock hang loose in his Lycra briefs, the sensation of cool finally taking over the exasperating heat. His bulge had to be the size of a basketball now, way too big for anything natural. He was a freak, but God, his dick commanded him to love every second of it. It was like the feeling of masterbation multiplying over every inch as his cock grew larger and larger. He stumbled backwards in joy, but his giant ass cushioned his fall. He had no clue how his briefs stayed on for so long. He had a basketball in front and beach balls in the back. But that wasn’t the only thing growing. His legs started to press against each other, growing so wide that they had nowhere else to grow. Of course, this turn of events led pants to be obsolete. His legs were past XXXL now, bigger than he’s ever seen on a bodybuilder. With awe, he rubbed his hands against them and felt the sheer hardness of his body. It was unbelievable. If he wasn’t so fucking horny he would have been upset at his size. But as he grew larger, so did his appetite for more. His chest puffed outwards, slowly at first, but gaining in speed as time passed. It was hardly noticeable at first over the feelings of his lower body, but as his second most top button flew across the room and his the glass, he couldn’t help but see. Max took his big hands and squeezed his pecs, ogling how they looked like the men he advertised on poster. But they didn’t stop there. Eventually they became like the WOMEN he saw on advertisements. And then even more as his chest popped another button down the line. And suddenly, another. Then one more. Another. Another again. Over and over until his pecs covered his vision. Max let out a mighty roar as he flexed his biceps, tearing out of the cotton shirt like it was paper. His arms bulged and swelled with power as they peaked above his head and kept rising towards the ceiling at an alarming rate. They grew in every direction, his arms expanding both up and down with muscle until he could hardly move them anymore. More and more he gained, until the floor started to bend. Someone outside of his office screamed “earthquake!” And everyone yelled and ran. But not Max. Max stayed put. That is, until the floor caved in and he crashed down, his giant ass once again cushioning his fall. His briefs were long gone now. Max was a being of pure mass, tons of concentrated muscle in one spot. The building couldn’t handle it. As he inches bigger and bigger, he fell down another floor. Then another. His cock couldn’t handle the sensations. He kept it growing. What was once a rather pitiful 4 inches became 4 feet. Then 8. 10. 20. 50. 100. 1000. It stretched across the building and onto the one next to it. Fuck he would have felt awful. Max would have been traumatized. But he couldn’t. All he felt was lust as he outgrew his very office building. Over ten stories high, international news reports told of the Monster of California, wreaking havoc over the west coast. Which, luckily for Max, he outgrew in a few minutes. His cock stretched across the Midwest. His balls sunk into the Pacific Ocean. His biceps scraped the ozone layer. And God, was Max happy. “More!” Was all he could chant. And that’s what he got. Never ending, never slowing. Each time he demanded it, he got it. But hey, it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t insured for this type of thing
    8 points
  3. The intercom on his desk phone buzzed, and Tom Beck, the office manager, picked it up. “Mr Beck,” said his secretary Anna, “your ten o’clock interview is here.” “Ok,” said Mr Beck. “But why are you whispering?” “Well, he’s sort of an unusual candidate,” said Anna, still whispering. “Unusual in what way?” “His attire is a little odd, and he’s…he’s kind of a giant.” Mr Beck chuckled to himself. Anna was prone to exaggeration, and being a tiny woman, everyone seemed big to her. The first time he’d met her, her first words were, “My goodness, you’re huge!” At 5’10, 225lbs of pretty solid muscle, Tom certainly wasn’t small, but huge was a word he would not have applied to himself. “Go ahead and send him in, Anna.” “Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tom stood up at his desk as his office door opened. Even with Anna’s warning, he was not quite prepared for what he was seeing. The young man walking thru the doorway had to turn almost sideways to fit his vast shoulder spread into the room. Tom sized him up at a good 6’6” and at least 350lbs of muscle. He came across the room and extended his hand to shake with Tom. “Hello, Mr Beck. I’m Marcus.” As they shook, Marcus’s hand engulfed Tom’s with his beefy palm and sausage sized fingers. “Hello Marcus. Have a seat.” Marcus sat down, and made the office chair he was in look like it came from an elementary school. He was wearing a short-sleeved white dress shirt and black pants. He had a narrow black tie on, but it was loosened, and his top collar button was undone, giving his 24” neck some freedom to show. His huge arms strained the short sleeves, and his big chest strained the shirt buttons. His thighs stretched the gabardine fabric of his pants till it looked thin and shiny. His shirt pocket had a pocket protector in it. He looked like a monster nerd. Tom picked up Marcus’s resume and looked it over, giving himself some time to compose himself. He realized how Anna must feel around people so much bigger than her. It is intimidating just being in their presence. He saw that Marcus had graduated top of his class, and had been captain of his college’s weightlifting squad for all four years. “As you know,” Tom started, “we are a small marketing company representing mostly sportswear businesses and supplement companies, along with some gym franchises and weightlifting wholesalers. It helps to have a sports or fitness background when dealing with our clients. You certainly look like you keep yourself…fit.” Marcus laughed. “Does it show?” he said, then bounced his pecs under his white cotton shirt. “Geezus,” stammered Tom. “I gotta ask, Marcus, just how much do you weigh?” “385lbs this morning,” Marcus answered. Then he flexed his arms into a double biceps shot. The sleeves of his shirt got pushed back as his peaks rose up and up. As they swelled higher, both sleeves ripped. “Damn,” said Marcus. “another shirt ruined. Guess that’s what happens when your arm pass twenty-four inchs, Mr Beck. You like?” Marcus knew muscle lust when he saw it in someone’s eyes, and he was going to milk it to the max. “Holy….”said Tom. “Yep,” smirked Marcus. “ And they just keep on getting bigger. You wanna see my chest, Mr Beck?” Marcus stood up, his huge frame seeming to fill the office. “Why don’t you come over and unbutton my shirt?” Marcus undid his tie and tossed it aside. Tom knew he shouldn’t. He knew. But he stood up anyway, his heart pounding hard. He couldn’t stop himself. He was mesmerized by so much muscle mass right in front of him. He made his way around his desk. Marcus turned to face him, towering over him. “Go ahead,” said Marcus, thrusting his massive chest outward. As Tom reached up for a shirt button, his forearms grazed along the white fabric, feeling the solidness of the protruding pec slabs underneath. He undid one button, then another. The shirt had no choice but to spread open wide, and Tom could see a tattoo on the massive young man’s chest. He undid a third button, and the shirt opened up enough for Tom to see a big “ALPHA” tattoo, all in black ink, across Marcus’s upper chest. Marcus smiled as he saw Mr Beck soaking in his tat, and his swole chest. “Sixty-eight inches of chest and lats, Mr Beck.” He reached down and unbuttoned the remaining buttons, and spread his shirt open, exposing his powerful roidgut. Even though swollen and rounding out, his abs still showed through his tight skin. Marcus flexed his gut muscles and made the ridges deepen around his thick 8-pack. “Oh my god,” said Tom, as he stepped back and leaned against his desk. “Am I ‘fit’ enough?” asked Marcus. “Not too bulked for ya?” “No, no, not at all.” “Here, help me take my shirt off, I’m in the middle of my bulk, so it’s getting harder to maneuver this mass.” “Holy…” said Tom. He walked over behind the massive Marcus and reached up to his collar and started pulling it down. They both struggled to work Marcus out of his shirt, and Tom looked in awe as more and more of the massive landscape of rolling muscle was exposed on Marcus’s huge back. Finally free of his shirt, Marcus shook out his torso, and his muscle seemed to expand even more, and filling the office with the musky scent of testosterone. Tom was able to get his first look at Marcus’s backside. His huge glutes were mounded thick and high, making his dress pants tight as a drum. “God,” said Tom. He put one hand on Marcus’s big back to steady himself. “You ok, Mr Beck?” “You’re hired,” said Tom, feeling just how hard and thick the man’s back was. “What was that?” “You’re hired,” he repeated. “Yeah? Just like that? You haven’t even seen my legs yet.” And with that, Marcus turned to face Tom and began flexing his quads inside his dress pants. The fabric stretched so tightly that Tom could see the veins running up and down Marcus’s huge thighs. “Let’s talk about my salary,” Marcus said. And he flexed hard enough that front of his pant legs started to tear down the middle. “I’ll double it,” stammered Tom, staring at the pants as the swelling quad muscle pushed its way out. “That’s what I like to hear,” said Marcus. Then he shredded his pant legs with his huge muscles. Then he forced his big roidgut out, and the buckle on his dress belt snapped apart like a cheap plastic toy. He then sucked his gut into a deep vacuum pose, and his pants slid down his 37 inch quads and onto his shoes, exposing the black poser he’d been wearing underneath. He stepped out of his Italian loafers and what was left of his pants. “You’re looking a little pale, Mr B,” said Marcus. “If you think I’m big now, just wait until I’m well over 400lbs.” Then he started posing, hitting flex after flex, turning and showing Tom his back double bi, his lat spread, then turning back around and hitting side chest shot, then a most-muscular. Tom gasped at each pose, and his left eye was twitching as he watched the superheavyweight new hire swell with size. “Speaking of which,” said Marcus, continuing to flex, “I’m going to need a pretty big office…” “You can have this one,” said Tom. “That’s mighty big of ya, Mr B. You know, you look pretty jacked up yourself. I used to be as little as you, but then I graduated high school.” Marcus moved toward Tom, until his huge chest was only an inch away from, and level with, Tom’s face. “Suck my nipples, Bossman.” Tom didn’t need to be told twice. He went to work on the big nip jutting out of the huge pec. He put his hands on the bigger man’s pumpkin-sized delts, feeling the thin sheen of sweat coating the rock hard muscle. He sucked and sucked on one nipple till it was engorged. Then he moved to the other side. “Ah, yeah, you got a hot mouth, Bossman. I knew it the minute I walked in here. We’re going to make a great team.” Marcus pulled his new boss mouth off his teat, and went and picked up the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. He wedged the top of the chair underneath the doorknob of the office door. “But first, we’re going to break in my new office,” he said, stepping out of his poser and snapping it at Tom like a rubber band. It hit him in the face, and Tom held it there, breathing in the musk. He reached over and hit his intercom button. “Anna,” he said, “hold all my calls for….” He looked at Marcus. “The next two hours,” said the naked bulked superheavyweight.
    5 points
  4. 2 points
  5. You are always too smart for me. While the cost of the whiskey doesn't equal their status (the fact that you notice details like that makes me so happy) it was more about the Irish-ness for me. Not sure why, I just saw Mr. Dennis loving working-man's whiskey. As, always, thank you for offering tips to help me write better AND for liking a lot of the same things I do.
    2 points
  6. Great story so far! Of course, I'm also dying to see Mr. Dennis grow huge and more powerful, but the journey getting there is quite enjoyable. Your powers of description are just beyond compare, and there are a lot of writers here who are good about that. Might I recommend a fine Bourbon rather than Black Bush for two such discerning gentlemen? Black Bush is way too cheap in the States (around $35.00) when those with money can spend a couple of hundred dollars on a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle of something else good. (Sorry, I guess it comes from being a Kentuckian.) However, I do like how you made a plot point of it by mentioning that it's the Protestant Irish Whiskey. Very clever detail.
    2 points
  7. Adventure Number Three As I walked to the gym I began to realize that ripping a bench loaded with four big guys out of the sidewalk had been easier than I would have thought. It didn’t even register to my toothpick arms that concrete was being torn apart as I easily yanked steel bolted to the ground into the air. And then pushing the steel column of the lamppost with what people would call a wimpy forefinger had been so unbelievably simple that I went slow just to make sure I didn’t slam the thing into the ground or easily snap it in two. I was getting stronger – much stronger – just as I had noticed with the hammer in the jock’s room earlier. What did it mean? When would my power stop? When I had my first wet dream at age twelve, I woke up the next morning and threw out my arms in a big yawn and stretch – but my fist was aimed for the headboard. I pummeled through the heavy wood with no problem, but then my fist went completely though the wall, too. All the way to the outside. You could see my neighbors’ house through the big hole – I had busted through drywall and concrete. That day I crushed seven door knobs, I shoved my brother to get out my way and he flew across the back yard, I ripped two doors off the hinges and away from their frame, and then I threw a dodgeball with a little too much strength and accidentally sent our coach and P.E. instructor soaring into the bleachers when I accidentally hit him with a bad throw. Luckily, nothing was broken. That was in junior high. I had become stronger every year since then and now I was a freshman in college with so much strength that I actually didn’t know just how powerful I truly was. This day’s feats had been a breeze, child’s play for me. I could feel the fact that, even though I was very thin, my body was now so thick – so dense – that even a speeding truck would be totaled if it hit me – and I wouldn’t move a bit. What was next? Super breath, able to blow down a building. Would I get x-ray vision, be able to change into fire or grow huge and green when I got angry? All of it was still a mystery to me, but I was damaging too many things by accident. I shook the hand of my big burly mechanic the other day, forgetting to shake lightly – mainly because he’s such a handsome dude – and sent him to his knees because I gripped too hard. A mechanic depended on his hands for his job, too. Was I eventually going to get too powerful to do normal things like hug someone or give a ‘high five’? Would blowing someone a kiss send him through all the walls of the house? And then there was the fact that I still looked like a dorky shrimp to everyone else – even to myself when I looked in the mirror. But that’s not the way I felt on the inside. I felt immortal. I felt like I towered over everyone and could intimidate others just by a slight movement of my arm. But I wasn’t as huge as the Hulk – even though I was just as strong. I was this runt of a fella that could lift the back of an SUV with one finger, toss a guy high enough for him to catch the plane he had missed, and forget about memorizing combinations for bank vaults – I could rip the huge thing open with a simple tug. I had adjusted to my new strength pretty quickly when I had been younger, but now it was getting so difficult to keep up. I was terrified I’d hurt people by accident. At the same time, however, my body’s strength turned me on so much that I could probably take out a row of tanks if I allowed my ejaculations to explode normally. I had to curtail them by tightening my cock or even holding it with a firm grip when I came. I still took out chunks of my dorm room walls and ceiling, but, at least, I didn’t bust out a gaping hole three-stories up, since I lived on the bottom floor. So, here I was - a childlike guy with the strength of superman. It just wasn’t fair, was it? I didn’t really mind about my size when I was using my strength – it just didn’t seem to matter I was small when I was lifting the back of a bus or ripping massive trees from the ground. It would have been cool, though, to have a body that made people anticipate my power. Although, I might not have gotten the chance to show off as much – people would be freaked out before I even did anything. This way, the surprise was half the fun. The big glass windows of the gym enabled me to see our three bully-stooges before I even entered. I recognized them immediately – mainly because they were presently picking on the sole other patron in the facility. They had obviously put the smaller guy on the floor and placed an unmovable weight-loaded bar on his stomach so he couldn’t move. It probably had taken two of the big dudes to lift the bar. They were all standing there looking at the little guy struggling with the bar and laughing. This only made me want to teach them a bigger lesson than before. The first thing I needed to do was get the little guy out of there, so he wouldn’t be a witness to the damage I was going to do. I didn’t need him to be accused of being an accomplice or even knowing about my abilities. When I got to the door and found it locked, I instantly turned super excited because I was going to be able to make a stupendous entrance, which was always a plus. My fist plowing through the metal door must have been as loud as a shotgun blast in the big room. I’m sure it scared the hell out of everyone. It felt like I was poking through tissue and I left a hole the size of a microwave. I’m sure it took the guys a while to figure out what happened, since it was probably hard to make out my skinny arm from across the gym. I pulled my hand out of the hole and admired how I had made all the metal look like jagged cardboard. I then took the butt of my palm and slammed it against the door – lower than the hole. The entire thing, frame and all, went shooting into the gym and banged against the wall on the other side. I think that got everyone’s attention. I couldn’t imagine what it must look like to see a little guy in a white short-sleeved shirt, glasses, pocket protector with two pens inside, and loafers walk in after that. “Well look, there’s a party and I wasn’t invited. I guess my invitation got lost in the campus mail. Sorry to bust in like that fellas, but for some reason the door was locked and I don’t really like locked doors. Haven’t met a lock, yet, that can keep me out, though. Care if I join in the fun? It looks like someone doesn’t actually want to be here.” I had continued to walk through the gym as I blabbered on. There was a definite tightening of my balls when I saw that the three bullies were all huge – members of the school wrestling team, I was sure. Showing off my strength to them was going to be fun. I just needed to help their victim head home, first. No one moved because they were still trying to figure out what was going on. One guy still stared at the destroyed door – imbedded in the wall. “Oh look, someone dropped some weights. That could be dangerous. I think I’m going to have to do some tidying up in here.” I reached down and grabbed the bar that stretched across the smaller guy’s body, pinning him to the floor. I did not, however, take hold of it in the middle. I grabbed it more at one end. When I lifted, though, the bar stayed perfectly straight, my strength easily capable of handling what must have been really hard for two of the big guys to even carry. I smiled at the freed captive and motioned to the destroyed doorway in the corner. The dude was on his feet and out of the gym by the time I tilted the weight bar up in the air as easily as I would a pencil and turned toward the baffled threesome. They were desperately trying to figure out how I was managing such an amazing trick with the weights. Clearly, I wasn’t strong enough to lift the things on my own – not to mention burst through a metal door so easily. As I talked, I waved the loaded bar around like I was some kind of peppy blonde drum major with a baton. I contemplated tossing it spinning in the air, but decided that was too much showing off – even for me. The three bullies watched me, dumbfounded, and ducked whenever I swung the bar near them. “So, fellas, it’s time you picked on someone with equal strength . . . well, not equal exactly. I think you’ll come to realize that even multiplying the three of you each by one hundred men wouldn’t come near to being the same as my power. Gosh, the looks on your faces makes it clear you think this bar is pretty heavy. Did you guys have trouble lifting this, because I find it as light as a toothpick. Seriously. Here, catch.” The three men dropped to the floor immediately – scared to death that I was going to toss the heavily weighted bar in their direction. They also screamed like terrified preschoolers. I smiled and held the bar so it stuck straight up. To freak these guys out like I was doing was the best feeling in the world. They were musclebound behemoths frightened of little ol’ me. I wasn’t done playing with them, though. Not by a longshot. It was time to up the ante some and make them even more nervous. I balanced the end of the bar on my forefinger – holding it aloft by moving my hand around. “Look at that, fellas. I’m holding all this weight with just one finger. Pretty awesome, huh? I’m also thinking this gym could do with some new artwork. It’s a little drab, don’t you think?” As I spoke I grabbed the end of the bar closest to me and swung the thing with a fraction of my full strength. The weights on the other end ripped the security bracket in two and went flying across the gym at a speed so fast it was hard to follow them. When they hit the wall, however, the sound of the impact was deafening. Six metal plates slammed into the concrete so hard they just sank into it – instantly fused together by the impact. It did, indeed, look like someone had put a painting of a weight on the wall. I was impressed with my work. The three bullies, however, were terrified by what I had done. “I think we need a matching piece on the other wall,” I said smiling. This time, I let the bar slide down until my hand met with the first plate secured at the end. I then turned it sideways and put my other hand on the outside plate. Then, I squeezed. I looked like some bizarre accordion player – but when I pressed in with both hands metal had no option but to submit to my power. I compressed the weights until they were one big unit – like pressing hamburger meat together to make bigger patties. The sound it created equaled two bulldozers slamming against each other to win some mechanical battle. To say I was now erect would have been an understatement. I was so hard off of my own strength I could have punctured the compressed pates with one poke of my super strong rod. I was pretty sure the fellas didn’t notice my hard-on because they were too amazed by what my wimpy-looking arms had done to the weights. I pushed the deformed mass off of the pole – demolishing the safety bracket the same way someone rips a bow off of a present. I then held the big blob of smashed plates like a discus and flung it in the opposite direction as last time. The thing looked like a flying saucer zooming through the air. It hit the other wall with the same amount of force as my first throw and the plates sliced into the concrete like a ninja’s shuriken piercing wood. Half of the manmade contraption stuck out into the room – again, looking like some wild muscleman’s artwork. When the sound of the wall being plowed by something stronger died down, I turned to my three new friends. As I spoke I slowly took the bar, which once held the weight, and started rolling it up like it was just a towel. “Man, I love the creative process, don’t you, guys? So, let’s get some things straight. I’m super strong and you’re not. I could toss all three of you through that concrete wall with no problem, at all. But, you see, I’m not like you three. I’m not a bully. I’m simply a guy that wants to make sure everyone’s being nice – everyone’s treating each other with respect. When I got to this little party, earlier, it looked like the three of you were treating a fellow student unkindly. Part of me thinks I should squeeze a few of these machines together with my powerful arms and then rest the thing on top of you three just to show you how our little friend felt earlier, but I think I’ve already ruined enough school property – the door, the plates, and this bar that is now rolled up like a garden hose. Watch as I flatten it into something resembling a pizza.” I noticed the biggest guy of the three slowly moving his hand toward a 15 kilograms dumbbell on a rack beside him. I did not let on that I saw what he was doing. Having thirty-three pounds of iron coming at me was going to be too much fun to not let it happen. As soon as he swung the grabbed piece of iron towards my head, I turned so it would hit me square in the face. Luckily, I had taken off my glasses when I had been swinging around the barbell earlier. My nose stopped the flight of the dumbbell with an abruptness that matched a flyswatter stopping a fly with a direct hit. Iron met something stronger – my face – and the reverberations of the halted mass sent pain through the guy’s hand and arm, causing him to drop the dumbbell on the ground and scream loudly. My neck was so anchored to my powerful body that I hadn’t budged at all – the big weight just kind of bounced off my tough-as-hell nose. I reached down and grabbed the dumbbell. “What did you think you were going to accomplish with that move, dude? You knew this thing wasn’t going to hurt me at all. Did you just want to see my face easily deflect it? Look how my nose made a big dent in the iron, fellas. Kind of hot, isn’t it. God, I love how even something this thick and sturdy gets abused by my body. Now, let’s imagine this was your head, man.” I put my small hands on either ends of the big weight, not being able to wrap my little fingers around the thicker part. I then started pushing in with my palms. The handle in the middle buckled immediately and the two ends banged into each other. I kept pushing. Iron compressed together – something much stronger than it was making it yield, easily. Soon, I had the dumbbell pressed into something as thin as a small paperback book. The iron had spread out more to accommodate what my power was doing. I could have probably molded it into a plate for a bar, but folding it up like a piece of paper seemed like more fun and watching the trio of shaking wrestlers get freaked out more was worth it. “So, if I can squeeze the hell out of this iron dumbbell with the use of very little of my strength, just imagine what I could do to that head of yours. Now, I’m sure you’ve figured out I wouldn’t do that to you, but I wanted you to know I could. Like I said earlier, I’m just here to put you three on a straight and narrow path. Clearly, you three weren’t disciplined enough as children and you think your size and strength give you the right to pick on others. Now, as fun as it would be to turn each of you over my knee one at a time and give you a spanking you’d never forget – and would feel for weeks to come – I just think I can convince you to be nicer by shocking the hell out of you with my strength. I’d hate to have to meet up with you at a later date because you didn’t get my message the first time, but know that I’d do it. I’d bring a few of these bars with me and make sure I twisted them so tight around your body that’d you’d be wearing them until I thought you’d learned your lesson. So, you see my over-muscled friends, it’s the little geek that’s putting you in your proper place tonight. Now, I think there needs to be a little pain – to help you remember our little chat – so I’m thinking the four of us need to wrestle. Oh no, don’t argue about it, fellas. I’m sure you know it’s not an even match, but I promise to go light on you.” I had already noticed mats on the floor in a corner of the room nearby. With speed that surprised each guy before he could do anything, I grabbed them one by one at the front of their sweatshirt and sweatpants, powered them over my head, and then launched them into the air over a couple of machines so they all landed with a loud thud in the center of the mats. I walked slowly and with as much cockiness a little guy can muster toward them as they laid there, still wondering what had happened. I removed my shirt, shoes, and pants, carefully laying them across a bench. I then stood there in all of my short, waif-like glory – making sure they fully grasped that this little guy, this mighty mouse, was the one about to whoop their asses. “I’ll try not to forget how strong I am, gentlemen, and do any permanent damage. I can get carried away, sometimes, and forget normal guys can’t tie a crowbar into a knot, shove a cement truck a half of block down the street, or rip apart cinder blocks for fun. I can’t help myself a lot of times because I just get so turned on by what this scrawny body can do – like tossing each of you through the air as if you were just a pair of balled-up socks. You fellas look scared. That’s a good thing. It means you’re learning the lesson I’m trying to share with you. We could probably stop right now, but where would be the fun in that. I need to show off more. Here, look at my flexed twig of an arm and remember it’s what caused you pain.” I flexed my little arm and all three guys stared at it. By the look on their faces you would have thought I was a seven-foot muscled monster, which I wasn’t. It was just that they fully knew what my arms were capable of. This was going to be fun.
    2 points
  8. Part Three I didn’t remember much about the rest of the evening – except the way Mr. Dennis’ hand felt every time it squeezed or stroked part of my body. When he took it away to eat or do something else, I immediately missed his firm grip and loving caresses. To say I was smitten was an understatement. The man was witty, charming, brutally honest, and steered the evening like some kind of magnificent elder captain of an ocean liner and I was his number one cabin boy. He was confident in the way I had dreamed my chosen subject would be – clearly able to be the one in charge, but in a gentle way and harsh only when he needed to be. Maybe it was the Borolo, maybe it was his aftershave, or maybe it was just knowing what was to come when we got to my place – but I was able to finally relax into the evening and just – as Mr. Dennis had suggested – be in the ‘now.’ Soon, we were back in my car, his strong hand gripping my thigh again, and I was rock hard knowing we were headed towards our destiny. We would soon be linked in what I was sure would be an unbreakable bond. “So, Tommy-boy has a little muscle and strength fetish, huh?” asked Mr. Dennis out of the blue as his forefinger pressed into the side of my hard rod. “What?” I asked, swerving a little in the road because the question caught me off guard. “Whoa, you okay there, bud? Need this elder man to drive? Too much Borolo will do that to a man,” he replied. “No, I’m fine. I promise. The two coffees and dessert helped a lot. I was just surprised by your statement.” “I don’t see why, Thomas. Every chance you got tonight you steered the conversation toward muscles and strength. Methinks you might be a little obsessed.” I did not like where this conversation was headed. It reminded me that I had already revealed too much information about my desires – my secrets. I was all too close to the plan I had been working so long and so hard to fulfill and I was nervous something would go wrong. I let silence be my answer, but Mr. Dennis continued. “Hey, it’s cool, friend. We all have kinks. We shouldn’t be embarrassed by them. I happen to love dominating a guy – well, smothering might be a more appropriate word. I like the idea of leading some young buck through life – being his mentor, his guide, his alpha. Again with the swerving - are you sure you’re okay?” “I’m great, Mr. Dennis. I’m perfect, as a matter of fact.” I was suddenly realizing that maybe the inner workings of the man I had chosen weren’t going to be that affected by his upcoming outer changes. I was suddenly sweating a little from the nervous excitement caused by this gray-haired, soon-to-be massive, older man telling me he loved to be an alpha. This seemed like the icing on my already perfect cake. It also caused more trouble for me in the southern parts of my body. My already throbbing cock began to ache with anticipation – no, with a need to have the change already happened. “I detect a quickened heartbeat and an increased rise at your crotch from my little confession, cute little Tommy. You want some older man to put you on a short leash?” “Not any older man, sir. One specific older man,” I said, glancing to him with such a serious look I was suddenly afraid I might be coming on too strong. “Hot damn, boy, that mouth of yours can say the nicest things. I’ll be as stern as you want me to be. I’m not a bully, though. I’ll just be that guy that suggests what you should wear, orders your meal for you, intimidates other guys that flirt with you, and leads you through lovemaking like a masterful potter working with clay. How does that sound?” “Like heaven, Mr. Dennis. Just like heaven.” The hand stroking my thigh reached over and squeezed my full hardness and his low growl of approval made the big thing twitch. I was now officially his – even before the change. I could feel it. I wanted him desperately, as is, and knew the changes would simply make me desire him more – if that were possible. It was crazy, but I got the feeling he wanted me, as well. I wasn’t sure if it was just for one night or for a lifetime, but I didn’t get hung up about that. I simply took his desire for what it was worth – right then and now. We were two lost ships that had somehow found each other among all the oceans, seas, and ports in the world. I began to think fate was approving of my plan and just kept making Mr. Dennis even more perfect than he had been before. “Hell, Tommy-boy, I hope you like you’re plowing hard, because I’m so turned on I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to control myself,” Mr. Dennis said, running his free hand through his gorgeous gray hair. I wanted to tell him I was hoping he’d never be able to control himself again. I wanted to tell him I was about to turn him into this senior muscled superhero, whose outsides would soon equal all of the alpha manliness he felt inside. Turning into my driveway almost made me cum. Mr. Dennis told me he was very impressed with my house and when he took his hand away from my leg I immediately felt a deep void. I didn’t have to suffer too long, though, because he was on my side of the car even before I stepped out and had a guiding arm around my waist as we walked up the bricked path to my big front porch “Such a big house for one guy,” Mr. Dennis said, looking at my home. “I have a feeling it will seem a lot smaller very soon,” I said – throwing caution to the wind since I was steps away from my goal. “Yeah, two people will make it more intimate, don’t you think,” he replied – not knowing how his future size would make everything intimately small. As I unlocked the door, Mr. Dennis’s wandering hand went from my lower back down to my ass and gripped hard. I was learning first hand – no pun intended – that the silver fox had a one-track mind when it came to his interests. I didn’t mind at all. Being smothered by all of his future huge body was going to be such pleasure. God, the man’s hand knew how to please. I figured that came with age and experience – another reason I loved mature men. He firmly grasped my cheek and lifted upward, making me go up on my toes. Then, his fingers slid firmly up into my crack and teased the pleasure zone up in there, mercilessly. I kept missing the keyhole because I couldn’t focus on what I was doing. I had a feeling he’d never miss any holes. “Damn, your ass is going to turn me into a beast, boy,” he growled as he prodded his hand further forward. “You have no idea,” I whispered, smiling and finally getting the door opened. The man never let his hand leave my ass – guiding me into the house like some kind of puppet master maneuvering every part of me with his fingers. There was a quick glance around the big front hall and then the man spun both of us around and pushed me into the door he had expertly shut with his foot. His slightly smaller, elder, still pretty-tight body slammed up against mine, knocking the wind from me a little. Instantly, a hard thigh parted my legs and pushed firmly into my fully erect cock. Hands gripped my wrists and forced my arms to my sides. Then, to really send me over the top, a silver-stubbled face scraped strongly against mine as Mr. Dennis’ lips attacked me. It was a brutal love assault that made my toes scrunch up in my shoes and my fingers uncontrollably ball into tight fists from indescribable pleasure. Older men simply knew how to kiss better than anyone else in the world. Maybe it was because they had spent a lifetime of kissing frogs in hopes of making one of them turn into a prince – and ended up trying again and again when the dude just stayed a frog. Or maybe it was simply because years of practice – as well as years of learning the techniques of other men – made them pros. It was like a great, great grandmother’s perfect recipe that was improved even more as it passed down through the generations. Whatever it was, Mr. Dennis was a Grade-A, powerful, aggressive kisser in a league all of his own – I had never been forced to submit my mouth, as well as my entire body, in such a euphoric way. I immediately became putty in his hands and he could have had his way with me in any manner he chose. I even briefly forgot about my plan to come – simply awash with so much orgasmic joy I could only focus on the multiple different reactions he was causing in my body. He pulled his lips from mine and I instantly let out a moan of displeasure – clearly telling him I didn’t want him to stop. “Thought I’d show you what this old man is capable of from the get-go, Thomas. Just wanted you to know how happy I am you spoke to me tonight.” “Just kiss me, please sir! God, just kiss me,” I said, begging for him to return to what he was doing. His wrinkle-framed lips were back on mine in a flash and I went back up on the tips of my toes from the incredible sensation that shot through my body. I knew I was forever his yes-boy at that exact moment. I had never been so turned on by a pair of lips. I had never been so expertly whipped into an orgasmic frenzy. His tongue invaded my mouth in a way that caused me to feel small and weak, but at the same time it caused a feeling of pure bliss, as well. His thigh pushed against my crotch the way a linebacker might hit an opposing team’s player – hard, powerful, and causing a loss of breath. I was on sensory overload, afraid I might pass out at any second. The man sensed all of this and pulled his face back again. “You’re making me feel so powerful, son,” he growled, staring into my eyes. “That’s my intention, sir.” His hands still held my arms to my side and I imagined how it would feel when his body would not even register anything I did to try and break free – when he would easily hold me in place any time he wished. His hot mouth returned to mine, his thigh thrust into my groin even harder, and I started to wish for release. He had driven me to the point of no return. I wanted to explode. I wanted the old man to make me offer him a powerful orgasm. This time, I turned my head to speak and he simply continued to suck on my neck as I begged. “Please make me cum, Mr. Dennis. I want to cum for you.” “Aw yeah, Tommy-boy is ready to bust his nuts big time, isn’t he? Let’s not rush the evening, though, son. This old man isn’t one of those guys that needs to be in bed by eight o’clock. I can make it all night long, Thomas. Let’s hold off on that release for a little while longer. I want to have you leaking with anticipation. How about a drink?” And just like that, the senior tease released me and backed away. I stayed pressed against the door with my head turned sideways and my eyes closed for a few more seconds and then the word ‘drink’ registered in my head. Like a man that fell in a well and took hours to climb back out, I dragged myself back from the cliff of ejaculation and snapped totally present in an instant. I knew exactly where the small bottle of liquid to put this man to sleep for the upcoming change rested on a shelf in a kitchen cabinet – waiting so patiently for this day. Him backing off and requesting a drink was the only thing that could have quieted my libido at that point. I turned and smiled at the now slightly disheveled gorgeous older man. “What’s your choice of poison, Mr. Dennis?” “What kind of whiskey would a nice man like you have, Thomas?” “Black Bush, sir.” “Mmmmm, the protestant one, that shows some character. I’ll have some of that, good sir. Straight, with no chaser. Just to show you how strong I am.” My balls immediately ached more and I found it hard to walk as the man put his now familiar hand on my back and led me towards the kitchen after I nodded in its direction. To show me how strong he was, indeed. He had no idea what those words did to me or how the image of him being really strong by this time tomorrow played again and again as he went off to explore more of the house leaving me totally alone to fix his drink. Strong whiskey would more than hide the smell and taste of the almost totally bland mixture that promised non-disturbed sleep for about twelve hours. That would be more than enough time for me to inject this senior daddy with the formula I had spent most of my waking hours over three years to perfect. And it would take even less for the changes to happen. I held out the drink to him when he came back into the kitchen. I had poured myself some, as well, but mine had a little water and some ice. He took the class and we raised them in a toast. “Here’s to your health,” I said. “Here’s to you getting plowed tonight,” he responded with a laugh and then he downed the entire glass with one huge, beautiful, manly gulp.
    2 points
  9. “Professor Hutchens, something's wrong. I don’t think it's supposed to be bubbling like this,” says my assistant Josh, a heightened concern in his voice. "Ignore it and just follow the directions. I've been working on this particular formula for months and checked the calculations this morning. Don't forget, I've been doing this for over a decade," I say in a huff. I am too busy grading my students' papers to walk over to the other side of the lab and check on his work. I had been up all night perfecting this latest batch, and had done my due diligence in double-checking the formula this morning. So what if I got zero sleep last night. I had to make my deadline. Associate professor positions pay shit money and I have to pay the rent somehow. So here I am covertly using university time and lab equipment to perfect a serum for a private biomedical company who has contracted me for a secret project. It's a project I can't truly talk about — you wouldn't believe the number of NDAs I had to sign to get the contract — but at its essence, it's a formula that will boost human potential by unlocking the confines of human strength and capability. "Alright, professor. Whatever you say. I'm just saying. It looks funny," Josh replies. Ah, Josh. Ever the simpleton. But that's why I hired him. He can follow orders well enough and better yet, has no idea that what I'm doing is illegal. He just needs the money as bad as I do. He's handsome in a boy next door kind of way — square jaw, a smattering of freckles, and sweeping brown bangs that highlight his soft green eyes. Oh, and a body that's in pretty good shape for a 20-year-old who cares more about partying than pretty much anything else. An inch or two shorter than me at 5'10", I would guess he weighs around 180 lbs. Despite the unshapely lab coat, I can tell that his muscles are developed. Actually I know this for a fact since I creeped on his Instagram late one night and saw that shirtless pic of him at the frat party. He doesn't have washboard abs, but they're peaking under a thin layer of fat and good lord does he have a bubble butt to die for. Round and juicy. Geez, I'm getting distracted. At the end of the day, he gets me what I need: someone who will take orders and ask as few questions as possible. **glass shatters** "Professor, professor!" Josh yells. I look up and a crimson colored plume of smoke is quickly enveloping Josh's work station. I run over to survey the situation, stopping to grab a fire extinguisher in case of an open flame. Josh continues to shout as I arrive at his desk. To my surprise, there is no flame, just a broken beaker. The plume of smoke has dissipated. "Josh, are you alright?" I ask. Internally I'm freaking out. Where did the smoke go? How much of it did he inhale? If something serious happens to him as a result and the university finds out... My racing thoughts are cut off by a groan from Josh. "I don't feel so good," he exclaims. With another groan he reaches out and grabs the lab counter, slightly bent over. He looks queasy. "Maybe take a seat over..." I start to say before I am interrupted by an even louder moan. "Ohh... ughhhhh, ohhh..." he groans. And that's when I noticed that Josh was sweating through his clothes. This isn't good. "Fuck, it's hot. My skin is burning." Josh exclaims, clutching his stomach. "Water, I need water." I run over to the sink and fill a sterile beaker with water from the tap, but notice that Josh's breathing has slowed and that the moans have ceased. "Hey Josh, how are you feeling?" I say with concern in my voice. "Okay now. My skin is still a little warm but it's not so hot anymore. Just a little tingly." he says. "Okay, well let's drink this glass of water and maybe get you out of that soaked lab coat." I reply. "I'm feeling really tingly now, Professor Hutchens," he says, straightening up. I start to help him get out of his lab coat and that's when I notice that we're eye-to-eye. "How tall are you, Josh?" I ask. "Five foot ten, why do you ask?" he replies as he wipes the sweat from his brow. "No reason." I reply. If I'm just over six foot, there's no way... "Fuck," he exclaims. "I need to get out of this lab coat, it's feeling really tight." **rip** The back of Josh's jacket suddenly rips along his lats. I can see his sun-kissed skin poking through the stark white of the coat. "We need to get my pants off too, fuck they're tight." **rip** Josh blows out the back of his pants. Holy shit, I think. His ass is impossibly round and firm. What I would give to... Josh cuts me off. "Ugh. What the hell is happening to me, professor? Why are my clothes so goddamn tight?" Josh asks, anger rising in his voice. It's then that I notice Josh is clearly looking down on me. He notices it too. "Holy shit, I'm growing," he says in surprise. "Ugh, it must be a reaction with the compound you were working with, I'm sure there's no cause for worry." But I'm worried the fuck out. This was an untested batch of the formula. "I'm definitely getting bigger," he says surveying his growing body. Just then, Josh's shoes make a popping noise and start to rip at the toe. First his right foot, thick toes peek through as they lengthen. Then his left. Previously a sensible size 11, he was now clearly pushing size 15, maybe 16. Bigger and more powerful, each toe grows menacingly large. Josh takes a look at his hands, and they slowly lengthen and thicken before his eyes. It's then he notices that his lab coat is now straining helplessly across his broad chest. With one fell swoop, he grabs it and rips it to shreds. He groans. Tossing aside the sweaty, ripped remains, Josh's upper body is now on full display. Thick, dark, quarter sized nipples increasingly point downward as his pecs heave forward. Rounder and firmer they grow, hovering over his abs. Whereas only a faint outline could be seen before, the top two rows of abs jut out as fat melts away. Sex lines begin to appear above the waist of his now impossibly tight jeans. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm going to be in so much trouble. But then again, the formula clearly works. Better than I imagined it to. Also I'm hard as hell. Josh was quickly pushing 6'4" and there was no sign of the growth stopping. "FUCK, this is amazing. I'm going to be huge!!" Josh yells, his voice now deeper and filled with cocky confidence. He rubs his thick, meaty hands across his broad chest. Tweaking his nipples, a guttural moan escapes his lips. Grabbing the top of his jeans, he rips them open, buttons flying. Holy shit, he's strong. Pre-cum soaks through my pants. I take in Josh's bottom half and notice that round veiny calves anchor his now inhumanely thick legs. Meaty thighs quiver and thicken as Josh's white, sweat-soaked briefs strain against growing frame. It leaves nothing to the imagination — Josh is packing. Half-hard, his cock already appears to be ten inches and thick. I can't imagine how huge it is at full mast. Actually, I can and the stain of pre-cum on my pants grows larger. He grasps his dick through his underwear. Goddamn, that's so hot. Josh turns around to take a look at himself in the mirror and I get a glimpse of his back. Wider and wider his lats spread, as pound upon pound of muscle is added to his frame. His traps, growing thicker by the minute, give him an imposing air. Triceps flaring, I'm starting to get scared. Josh is quickly turning into a god among men, and a cocky one at that. "How fucking big am I going to get, doc?" he barks at me, cupping his growing pecs as he admires his own reflection. "I want to know. How fucking big?!" "I... I don't know. This formula has never been tested before. This is... more than I could have ever imagined." I stammer. "I hope it doesn't stop. I want to grow huge," he grunts as he gains another inch in height. He turns back around. Josh's underwear is hopelessly clinging on for dear life. Escaping the confines of the strained cotton briefs and snaking halfway down his thigh, a giant cockhead the size of a small apple stares at me. Fabric taut, his briefs are looking more and more like a thong by the minute, riding up an impossibly round and juicy bubble butt. **snap** Josh's underwear gives way under the pressure of his growing muscle ass. At this point, he's rock hard and stroking his cock with his meaty hands. I'm mesmerized. Never in my wildest dreams could I picture something so insanely thick and long, coursing with raw masculinity. Two large balls the size of lemons, quiver with young stud cum. The naked jock stares down at me, a hunger in his eyes I've never seen before. He had to be 6'8" by now. "Suck my cock," the giant demands. "What... do you... mea..." I studder. "I said suck my cock. I can see that my body is turning you on. And I'm horny as hell. Suck my fucking cock." he growls. I don't know what to do. On one hand, I've never been hornier in my life. On the other, Josh's cockhead alone is big enough to fill my mouth to capacity. I don't think it's even possible to take the whole... Josh grabs my head and shoves me to his crotch. Sweaty, I'm enveloped by his manly musk. "I said, fucking suck it!" he commands. I lick the head. His pre, salty and thick, is unlike anything I've ever tasted before. I open my mouth wide as Josh's places his baseball mitt sized hand on the back of my head and shoves me onto his growing member. I can only get my mouth around four or five inches of the shaft, it's much thicker than a soda can. "Yeah, you little bitch." Josh moans. "You turned me into a god, and now you'll worship me like one." I can't believe this is happening but I'm lost in the moment. He's right: my formula has turned him into a studly beast. Even though I can tell the growth is slowly, he must be pushing 7' tall at this point. And god, the muscles. They're unreal. Josh's cock surges in my mouth. Not done growing, I guess. I work his tool as best as I can. Tears stream down my cheek as I strain to take it in. I grab his round muscle butt for leverage and realize I can't hold on any longer. I blow my load in my pants. Josh's groans from the growth slow, and are replaced with increased moans as I service his cock. I lick and suck and spit, working the 16" rod with all my strength. "Ugh, I'm gonna shoot!" Josh roars unexpectedly. **pump** **pump** **pump** Rope after rope of thick, virile stud cum shoots down my throat. **pump** **pump** **pump** His dick quivers with each pump. Holy shit, this is a lot of cum. **pump** **pump** **pump** Josh continues to moan like an animal in heat. I struggle to take it all in and cum starts escaping from the corners of my mouth and drips onto my clothes. I shoot another load in my pants. **pump** **pump** The seemingly endless stream of cum slows. Josh's breathing, while labored, calms down a bit. Two more pumps and he's done. My mouth full, I swallow the last of his load. I've never sucked down so much cum in my life. "FUCK," he exclaims, pulling out his cock and leaning his huge frame on one of the tables. The growth has stopped. "I'm starving," he says as he grabs his torn lab coat and ties it around his waist, a futile attempt at modesty given his hulking frame. "I'm going to find some food." And with that, he walks away from me and heads to the lab's exit, ducking through the doorway. I'm at a loss for words, unable to make sense of what just happened. A dull, but noticeable tingle spreads across my body and I notice I'm soaking through my own lab coat. I'm covered in Josh's cum, yes, but also soaking with sweat. I should probably get out of these clothes, I'm feeling restricted because they feel... tight against my frame. God, it's hot in here. My skin's on fire. *RRIIPPP*
    1 point
  10. Of course, I wouldn't think that man. I just happened to remember that saying from watching that show. It was purely coincidental.
    1 point
  11. Well just in case anyone thinks I'm copying anything I can confirm I've never seen that show! And yeah - there might be some hurdles to overcome but as usual I won't say much for fear of giving away!
    1 point
  12. "But what if, just what if . . . "
    1 point
  13. hey monkey i know your coping geektofreek style but you dont have to copy the part where he disappear for months leaving us all thirsty hehe, just kidding how its the story coming its everything cool with your live?
    1 point
  14. The fact that you think any tip I could give you would make you a better writer is high praise indeed! Yes, your attention to detail is a big part of what makes your writing so excellent. Now that you mention it, there is something very appealing about the very rich man liking the working class drink. I just had to take the opportunity to mention my state's most significant contribution to world culture, which I'm pretty sure derives from Irish whiskey way back the line anyway. If it's good enough for Judi Dench as "M," it can't be all bad. It's a point of pride for us in Kentucky, when we really don't have that much to crow about. Well, we did give the gifts of Muhammad Ali, Jennifer Lawrence and George Clooney to the world. So, I guess we're not doing too bad for a little state.
    1 point
  15. That's pretty obvious, Muscleaddict. Woody isn't usually the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, like he has been lately, since meeting Luke. But a part of me wonders if Woody being such a cocky twat at times is kind of a defense mechanism for him to keep anyone from getting close to him or vice versa. Is it possible Woody had an incident from his past in where he was smitten with a muscle guy, but got rejected and humiliated badly, and that's why he gained that part of his personality besides just from the bodybuilding? Because from mu analysis of Woody is that he's a bit full of himself at times, but at heart he's a really good guy, once you get to know him.
    1 point
  16. Oh my god! I don't know how much more of this sexual tension and teasing I can handle! All I would say to Seb is to tell Luke how he feels, but I know why both guys haven't come clean to the other. Both of them are ot sure of the other and are afraid to reach out, in fear of rejection. Keep it up, Muscleaddict! It's getting real now!
    1 point
  17. When you Bitch Upon a Star Absolutely nobody cheered. There wasn’t one smiling face in the audience. Everybody in Hemingway Conference Room D was disgusted at the way that Lucas acted on stage in front of all his coworkers. There he stood, slurring all his words at the podium and rambling about how Garrett from Corporate had a penis unlike any other. His short black hair was oily and ruffled. His freckled face was flushed with liquor. His tailored brown suit was ripping at the seams of his muscled frame. Anyone with eyes could see that he was drunk and disorderly, hence why the police arrived shortly to escort him back home. Lucas was raving. He thrashed with the officers and yelled at them to put him down. He wasn’t going to have any of their bullshit today. But he didn’t have much of a choice. When he entered the back seat of the police car, he passed out and slept the whole ride home. He awoke to being jostled by the bigger policeman. He had dark skin and darker sunglasses, making his silhouette look as if it was from a dream as the sun shone behind the man’s body. Unable to tell a dream from reality, Lucas didn’t respond to the man and remained limp. “Sir! Your boss, among many others of whom you offended, has agreed not to press charges for making sexual remarks during their meeting. However,” he continued, his gruff voice coming off harsh, “you’re suspended from work for an indefinite time. Please get out of the car and into your house before we have to force you” Lucas groggily slumped out of the car and leaned on the door to his city apartment, passing by the officers without passing a glance. “Lucky son of a bitch.” Lucas whipped his head around to see what they were talking about. “If that was our boss,” the main officer said, “we’d be fired on sight.” The other one chuckled, his voice less masculine and intimidating than the first. “If that was our boss, we’d be SHOT on sight!” The two men got in the car and laughed as they drove away, leaving Lucas on his own. He rustled for his keys and opened the door and walked up the stairs to his tiny little apartment he could barely afford. And now with his job gone, he’d likely be evicted any day now. There was no way that things could get any worse. So, to numb the pain, Lucas drank even more. He drank until his pain went away. He had nothing left to live for. His boyfriend, Jeremy, dumped him for a better-looking man four whole months ago and he still wasn’t over it. He worked out every single day to try to bulk up to match Jeremy’s new man. Then, when that didn’t work, he went to steroids. He bulked faster than anyone has ever seen. But when we asked for Jeremy back, he still said no. So he grew even more. And more. And more. Never stopping until he ran out of cash. But, like anything, his cash supply was finite. Jeremy still didn’t want him back. He was broke, jobless, and drunk. Lucas was a pathetic excuse of a man. People gawked at him on the street like he was a muscle-bound freak. His proportions were off. His biceps were too big. His waist was too small. And his ego was shattered. Every ounce of manhood he had left faded away along with his consciousness. When Lucas woke up again it was nighttime. His head pounded nails into his skull. His stomach churned up a storm. But nevertheless, he stood up and tried to walk outside for some fresh air, his suit feeling constricting on his sweaty body. He tumbled his way down the stairs and opened the front door to the outside world. City smog and the growling of raccoons greeted his unshaven face and he immediately turned around into an alley to avoid the shrieking noise of cars passing by. It was dark, gloomy, and dank, much like how he was feeling. So, like any hopeless man did, he sat down on the ground and leaned his back against the grimy brick wall. Lucas lifted his head up and watched the stars above. They twinkled in the midnight sky and put a small smile on his face. “I just wish that I could teach them all a lesson. I wish that I could be bigger than all of them combined, that I could finally let them know what a mistake they made fucking with me!” And with the final words, Lucas started to cry softly to himself. He felt powerless. But, little did he know that as soon as he slumped his head down, a shooting star went by and heard his plea for help. Lucas cried himself out and wiped his eyes when he was done. He wasn’t just going to sit around and wait for life to destroy him! He was going to get even! Lucas stood up and hailed a cab. The woman driving looked just as tired as he did, her long red hair puffing outwards with knots and her face drooping like a bag. He told her Jeremy’s address and waited for her to arrive, but on the ride there, he realized that he didn’t want to end the ride there. He had some more people to teach a lesson to. “Miss, can you wait for me outside his house? I need to go somewhere else after.” The lady grunted and shrugged her shoulders, not really caring what she did as long as she got paid for it. Lucas grinned maliciously and stepped outside Jeremy’s house. He rummaged through his pockets and took out his key ring. He never did get rid of Jeremy’s key. It was a memento. But now, he realized, it was literally the key to revenge. Lucas opened the door and barged inside, stepping over discarded beer cans and pizza boxes to go up to Jeremy’s bedroom on the second floor. His house was a mess. It was the perfect cover-up. All Lucas had to do was deny ever being there and the sheer mess of his house was a water-tight excuse. He’d say that Jeremy must have fallen and hurt himself or something. When he got to Jeremy’s door, he slammed it open with all his might. “Wake up, you little slut!” Lucas roared, his aggression only rising as he saw his ex-boyfriend sleeping in the same bed he slept in when they were still together. Jeremy fell off the frame and stood up, his tiny pale naked body wrapped completely in his sheets, his brown hair messed up from sleep. “Lucas! Get out of my fucking house! What the hell do you want?” Jeremy cried. Lucas stomped over to him, his six-foot frame overshadowing Jeremy. He then grabbed his neck and lifted him up in the air like the men he’d seen in movies do. Then he started to squeeze. “What do I want?!” Lucas bellowed. “I want you to go to hell!” Jeremy’s eyes went wide as he saw Lucas’s biceps begin to swell with power. His already-torn suit began to rip even more. One by one his muscles started to bulge outward and surge his body with strength. The sound of cotton ripping echoed around the room. Lucas didn’t notice. His rage was too uncontrollable. He just kept squeezing and squeezing Jeremy’s writhing body as his life began to drain away. “You made a fucking mistake dumping me for that slut, wherever he is! I’m gonna teach that bastard a lesson RIGHT after I finish you, you pathetic little ant!” Then with a final grip, Lucas smashed Jeremy’s neck and left his bloody body on the messy floor. There was no explaining that one to the cops, but he didn’t care. The power felt so good! He needed more! Lucas slammed open the door and heaved his way down the stairs, everything left of his clothes cutting off his air flow. He was huge. Even bigger than before. Now there was no denying that something wasn’t natural with him. He was bigger than any bodybuilder. Closer to the Incredible Hulk, really, except even bigger. Lucas opened the cab door outside and stepped in, having to lean down and squeeze into the middle in order to fit in the tiny vehicle. “Where to now, love?” The cab driver asked, not looking back at the monster before her. “Lamplight Insurance. It’s my office,” he replied. As they drove down to his old job, Lucas started to feel the adrenaline slow down. Then, with newfound clarity, he looked at himself in the rear-view mirror. He was fucking GIANT! His pecs extended at least a foot long. His arms bulged like beach balls. His legs looked like tree trunks. Even his bulge was noticeable through his pants, which were now completely torn off except for his pelvis line, making him look like he was wearing a speedo and a tank top. You could hardly even see his face behind his mountains of muscle. But if you did, you’d see it smiling with lust. The cab finally stopped outside and let him out, still not understanding why it felt like the drive had such heavy cargo inside. Lucas gave the lady all the money he had left and let her drive off. After all, he wasn’t going to need money anymore. He had much bigger plans. As the sun began to rise, Lucas smashed open the glass doors to his office and sauntered inside, not caring about the alarm blaring around him. With each pounding step, Lucas grew more and more. He felt each vein pumping more and more mass into his already giant body. But as he approached the elevators, he realized that he was too big to go up. And he was too wide to go through the staircase. That made him very upset. And with his anger came more growth. Lucas let out a fierce roar as his body bubbles up taller and wider than ever before. The vaulted ceiling wasn’t too high anymore compared to Lucas. And he loved every second of it. He would show them all! He would make them pay for mistreating him and getting him suspended! They would all pay! The sound of police cars joined the symphony of alarms. As Lucas heard the sound of doors slamming, his pecs overshadowed his face and he couldn’t see anything. But he felt the ceiling above him, his biceps pressing into the stone. “What the fuck is that?!” An officer yelled. “I don’t fucking know, man, but we have to fucking stop it!” Lucas heard gunshots, but only felt pebbles bouncing off of his naked skin. His clothes were obliterated. There he stood, a fifty-foot-tall mass of Lucas, his body filling up the lobby of his office building. But as he stopped rising, his muscles pressing into the ceiling, he started growing outwards. “Oh...fuck YES!” Lucas cried. His cock started to rumble. The pure pleasure of growing bigger than anything else was immeasurable. The ecstasy of becoming more powerful than modern weaponry was pure bliss to him! And it showed well. As Lucas started to moan, his cock began getting bigger. It stretched out with so much force that it barreled through whatever was left of the front entrance and started crashing through buildings. To Lucas it felt like the worlds biggest fleshlight. “More!! I need More!!” He yelled. He heard the officers call for backup. That was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to feel more bullets. He wanted to feel them TRY to stop him! “I’ve found a weak spot!” Someone cried out. Then Lucas heard dozens of men running around back past his swimming pool-sized balls and to his back. “Fire!” Lucas got an ass massage like no other. With the heaviest weapons they had, an estimate of a while police force laid raid to his bubble butt. But luckily for him, it only stimulated the growth more. He felt his ass begin to inflate like two giant balloons, crushing all the men underneath like mere insects. But the pleasure was too much. Lucas’s body responded too well. With the sound of cracking, the ceiling collapsed and Lucas exploded through the next few floors of the building, his growth only gaining momentum. “MORE!! FUCK YES! HERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING OFFICE, OR WHATEVER’S LEFT OF IT! HAVE FUN IN HELL, BITCHES!” Lucas flexed his biceps and demolished the entire skyscraper in one go, each floor crashing onto his body. But with every stimulus that he got, he only grow exponentially more. His pecs soon covered the whole block. His biceps reached to the clouds above. His ass lifted him dozens of stories high. His legs practically grew into one as they expanded outward. His cock stretched all the way across the state. Then soon, all of that doubled. Like he was growing against sandpaper, hundreds of buildings were crushed by his weight almost instantaneously. Then hundreds became thousands. Millions. Billions. Then soon he felt the pull of the earth fade away. Slowly but surely he was outgrowing the whole planet. He was his own gravitational force. And as science states, gravity attracts things to large objects. Lucas felt giant objects start to squeeze onto him like magnets shot from a gun. With each new celestial body, Lucas’s body bursted with more muscle. His cock ripped through galaxies. His ass stopped black holes. His biceps hit the edge of the universe. Exponentially faster and faster Lucas grew until he no longer felt anything all all except his pure muscle. He was the biggest thing in existence. He was the whole universe. Even as he kept flexing, he felt his muscles start to grow into each other with nowhere else to grow. That was it for Lucas. He had to cum. As his muscle started growing around his cock, jerking it ever so slowly, Lucas let out a final roar and let out immeasurable loads of cum. Cosmic galaxies of sperm exploded and covered any remaining gap in the hot, white liquid. Lucas was going to be very happy. After all, nobody could stop him now. He was all power incarnate. And who wouldn’t wish for that?
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  18. The Prologue is found here: The Orgone Accumulator : Prologue The Orgone Accumulator: Part One He finished his three articles about Portland Waterfront Pride and sent them to the news-site editor per e-mail. Brad Taurus. He smiled. If your name is John Smith, and your occupation is freelance journalist and writer, you have to use some eye-catching alias to stick out in the crowd, even if it sounds silly. He scratched his hipster beard, took a sip of green tea, and clicked on one of the files that contained one of the chapters-to-be of his new book about the history of gay subcultures. Stud of Dakota ... One of the models of Robert Mapplethorpe's artistic black-and-white photographs back in the late 1970s and early 1980s. The guy had been huge and muscular long before working-out became fashionable. At a time, when other men allowed their hair to grow long like Peter Berlin did, Stud of Dakota went from a rockabilly hairstyle to a crewcut, like he had predicted the approaching fashion-changes of the 1980s. Stud was surrounded by urban legend: Had he lived among the San Francisco leather scene before it became publicly visible? Was he devoted to kinks too extreme to describe in words? Was his disappearance from the public eye in the mid-1980s caused by AIDS? No-one knew. The New York art scene was probably where to sneak around, if you wanted answers. Mr. Smith booked himself an airline ticket. His guilt-stricken conscience told him, that his travels would be bad to the environment, but the thought of a coast-to-coast railway journey caused him to shudder. He compensated his carbo-dioxide emissions with a click, and prepared to pack his bag. * * * It was days later. He had presumed, that he would enjoy New York, but he was wrong. The streets were sticky of some unknown dirt, the air smelled funny, the cabdrivers were impolite, and there were beggars or psychos in the streets. "Brad! Darling! So this is how you look in real life! I've wondered who the mysterious Mr. Taurus behind all those articles is. No-one told me, that you are a bear-cub." The Queen was overwhelming. The art dealer known as The Queen was in his eighties, and remembered the Stonewall riots and days long before these. His suit was luxurious, he wore androgynous wristbands, and his arms gestured in a manner reminding of someone's aunt, in a way that didn't feel natural, but seemed like a skilfully rehearsed act aimed at provoking bystanders, which it probably did. The comment surprised John, and it felt like it dissolved and evaporated all the polite stuff he had planned to say. Startled, he answered: "I'm not a cub, and 'Brad Taurus' is a pseudonym." "You don't say?", The Queen answered waspishly. "I would have guessed, that your inventive and creative parents came up with the name before your birth. You can never be too careful when you select your parents. My parents had the grace to bestow unto me independent means, and they tended to pretend not to understand, that the vagina business was way outside my comfort zone, just as the upper classes of their generation used to do." The elderly man's eyes glittered of mischief, and he gave the impression of being considerably younger, despite his silver hair. "Anyhow. Come in, come in, and let me give you something to drink. Something bubbly perhaps?" A few minutes later, John was sitting in a chair constructed to look artistic, but it wasn't particularly comfortable. In his hand, he was holding a flute of champagne. "So what brings you to the doorstep of my humble abode? Chin chin!", The Queen asked and toasted. "I mentioned my book about history ..." "Indeed you did, darling. Did I tell you, that those puppy eyes of your's suit you very well?" "One of the chapters will mention, how some gay men in the past behaved effeminate, in order to mock the prejudice of straight society ..." "Oh, honey! I have no idea what you are talking about!", The Queen shrieked in falsetto, but his eyes glittered of intense irony. "However, I ask for your advice about a different matter, since you are knowledgeable about the arts scene in the 1970s ..." The lustre in The Queen's eyes changed from flippant to businesslike. Even his gestures became more restrained, less studied. His body language went from a stereotype to a real person. "One of Mapplethorpe's models, the alias 'Stud of Dakota', disappeared in the 80s, and I don't even know his real name." The Queen let out a low whistling sound. "Those young boys were in an entirely different league than I or my late husband were. Beside being younger than me -- he must have been born some time in the 1940s, I guess -- Stud and his handsome friends hang out with an entirely different circle than mine: Nice to watch at a distance, but only watch, no touching! It doesn't probably come as much of a surprise, that most of my friends belong to old families with old money, but one of the benefits of moving in artistic circles is, that you encounter men from many ways of life, including some gorgeous working-class and lower middle-class men. I encountered them a few times when Mapplethorpe arranged something, but I don't know much about them -- neither Stud nor his friends." John's facial expression must have revealed the wave of disappointment, which began to well up inside him, because The Queen continued: "But have no fear. I have a fairly good idea which ones to ask. You'll have to ask the older patrons at The Eagle NYC." "The Eagle?" "A leather bar. Not my personal cup of tea, as you might guess, but the oldies over there would possibly know something. You wouldn't be able to enter dressed like that ..." The Queen evaluated John's hipsterish attire with critical eyes. "... but if you wear well-polished boots to those jeans, the men at the entrance could possibly sell you some suitable gear to wear at the bar. Better ask them first. It's not my type of place." * * * The story continues in The Orgone Accumulator : Part Two
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  19. Okay, guys, here's the rest of chapter 18... As our train gets closer to Bristol, the nerves I felt this morning start to kick in again. I still don’t really know whether this whole thing is going to work. I have my friendship with Emily, and then I have my thing with Luke, both of which feel incredibly special to me. And now those two worlds are going to collide. I tell myself it will be fine. That Emily and Luke will get on great. That it will be a fun weekend. But by the time the train’s pulled in and me and Luke are walking along the platform, my stomach is in fucking knots. Jesus. What is wrong with me? I hardly ever get this nervous. It’s a familiar feeling I get when I’m backstage at a bodybuilding show, tanned up and shredded in shiny posers and waiting to go on the stage in front of an audience of hundreds of muscle loving spectators. I’m pretty sure I know the main cause of my nerves. I’m still scared that Emily will see that I have feelings for Luke. In theory, that shouldn’t be such a bad thing. I mean, she is my best friend after all. But I’m not sure I’m ready for Emily to see that side of me yet. I can’t explain it. The thought of telling her makes me feel exposed. Maybe even vulnerable? And I think that once the words are out there, that I have feelings for Luke, it will make the whole thing seem so much more real. When I spot Emily standing on the station platform behind the barriers my nerves ease a little. I usually get this feeling when I come to visit Emily in Bristol. Like, after weeks of being at Muscle University surrounded by the likes of Deano and Shaun and all of those other testosterone fuelled muscle lads and spending all of that time by myself in my dorm room, I can breathe all of a sudden. Like I suddenly feel safe again. But it’s funny, because I don’t feel that now. This time it feels different. And I know why. Because now my life at Muscle University is different. And that’s because of Luke. God - I think I’m starting to realise just how unhappy I was at Montgomery before he came along. And, I guess, if I’m being honest, how lonely I was too. I fucking hate admitting that. I mean, I’m Woody; cocky, handsome as shit, attention loving bodybuilder whose biceps everyone wants to feel. Guys like me aren’t supposed to feel depressed. And they’re definitely not meant to feel lonely. I mean, I have twelve thousand followers on Instagram for fuck’s sake. I feel this warm, happy twinge as I approach Emily’s smiling face. She says hey and gives me a hug as always. Judging by the surprised expression on Luke’s face, he clearly didn’t think I was the hugging type. “This is the new roomie!” I tell Emily, my chest tightening. I’m nervous to introduce Luke, but I feel a surprising warmth with it. Fuck it - it’s almost a rush. I’m pretty sure I’d have been more nervous if I’d have introduced him by his name. By the way, is it me or does Luke have the cutest fucking name? Luke! Lovely, little Luke. My little Lukey. Christ, I need help! “Hey!” Emily greets him. Then she moves forward and gives him a hug and seeing Emily embracing Luke so easily, I feel a sharp twist in my stomach. For fuck’s sake. Am I seriously getting jealous because my best friend just got to hug the boy I’m completely crazy about? Luke looks a little taken aback by the unexpected hug. We make eye contact and he shoots me a little smirk. I can tell he feels a little shy around Emily, but he doesn’t seem nervous or uncomfortable. I really like that about Luke. He’s shy but he’s confident. I have this feeling that the two of them are going to get on fine. “So, Luke ... what’s it like sharing a room with Seb?” Emily asks as we walk from the station to her student house. Luke looks at me with a knowing grin and I feel a pinch of excitement at hearing his response. “Mmmm. It’s good!” He looks at me with this slightly bashful smirk and ARGH - I feel like my insides are melting. “Well … mostly!” he adds, looking at me again with a mischievous smirk. I give him a wide eyed look. “What do you mean mostly? I’m a good roommate!” I protest. Luke continues to smirks and raises an eyebrow at me. “Is he constantly reminding you of how sexy he is?” Emily asks. “YES!” Luke exclaims. Ha! I love it. I casually shrug. “Facts are facts!” Emily smiles at me and rolls her eyes. “He’s always bouncing his pecs too!” Luke teases. “Oh God. He does that in front of me!” “Erm … are you two just gonna gang up on me the whole weekend?” I cry, even though I don’t really mind. Even thoughI actually kinda love it. “Awww!” Emily says, with a teasing smile before linking her arm with mine. “How long have you two been friends?” Luke asks. “Since we were four!” Emily replies. “Oh wow! Does that mean you’ve got some embarrassing stories about him?” “LOADS!” Emily exclaims, excited. “Erm … shall I just go back to the train station now?!” We order pizza when we get to Emily’s and hang out in the living room of her student house. Me and Emily on one sofa, Luke on another. The conversation’s been flowing. Luke seems fine with Emily. Things don’t feel weird or uncomfortable like I thought they might. I’m probably a little less relaxed than I’d normally be in front of Emily, but it’s actually really nice being with the both of them. “So … when do I get to hear one of these embarrassing stories?” Luke asks Emily, before shooting me a cheeky smirk. “Oh yeah!” Emily says, excited, practically jumping in her chair. “Oooh. Erm. How about never?!” I cry. Emily looks at me, biting her lip. Like she’s debating whether to relay whatever she’s got on her mind. “Okay … this one’s kind of embarrassing for both of us!” I shoot her a confused look, intrigued and admittedly pretty excited at what she’s about to tell Luke. Because despite my protests, I really don’t mind her telling Luke embarrassing stories about me. In fact, I actually kinda love the idea. Emily takes a deep breath and looks from me to Luke. “When we were in year eight, me and Woody formed a pop group!” “Oh God! NO!” I cry. Luke has this excited and surprised look on his face. “Well it was more of a duo!” Emily explains, “we were called …” “I can’t believe you’re telling him this!” “Two The Same!” I put my hands over my face and groan. “Soooo cheesy!” “So what did you guys do?” Luke asks, grinning. “Basically just made up our own songs!” Emily explains. “They were sooo bad!” I say, glaring at Luke and shaking my head. “Can you still remember them?” he asks, with this hopeful grin on his face. Oh God. Emily looks at me with this knowing smirk. We definitely still know the songs. We even sing some of them occasionally. Usually when we’re both pissed. She’s got this look in her eyes. Surely she wouldn’t subject herself (and me) to the embarrassment of letting Luke hear a song we made up when we were twelve years old? I shoot her a wide eyed look, almost begging her not to go on. “I think Luke wants to hear one of our songs, Seb!” she says. “Sorry! Can’t remember any of them!” I say, casually. Emily shoots Luke a look. “He’s lying!” “Come on, Seb!” Luke says, with this teasing grin. The little fucker. “I wanna hear Two The Same’s best song!” “Well that would be the Monday morning song!” Emily announces. Oh my GOD! “Come on ... let’s sing it!” she says, nudging my arm. “Erm … let’s not!” “Fine, I’ll sing it by myself!” she says. “I’m seriously cutting off all contact with you after this weekend!” Emily starts to sing. “On Monday morning, I’m thinking ‘bout you ...” Oh God. I put my hands over my face and curl up in a ball, groaning for effect. “When Tuesday comes, my head is spinning ...” Despite my embarrassment, I feel the same warmth of nostalgia I always do when I hear this song. And now I’m smiling behind my hands. “By Friday night, I’m going crazy …” I take a peek at Luke and he’s biting his lip and grinning and I feel a pinch in my chest. Okay I’m embarrassed, but I also kind of love that Luke’s getting to hear this song. That he’s being let it on this part of mine and Emily’s childhood. “‘And every day, I’m falling more in love with you.” “Oh my GOD!” I groan loudly. “That’s brilliant!” Luke exclaims. “It’s soooo not!” I say to him, both of us smiling at each other. And now Emily’s looking at me, her eyes lingering on me with this suspicious expression and a slight, knowing smirk on her face and my stomach clenches. “You know what the song really needs though?” I say. They both look at me confused. “Some dance moves!” Emily’s looking at me, her eyebrows furrowed and smirking. I straighten up my back on the sofa. “Come on. Sing it again!” She looks at Luke and back at me. “Erm … okay!” As a baffled Emily sings the first line of the song, I look down at my chest and start bouncing my pecs up and down in time with the melody. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” Emily cries, rolling her eyes and stopping the song. Luke’s beaming at me and shaking his head. “See what I have to put up with?” he says. “YES! I’ve been putting up with it for sixteen years!” Emily says, turning to me again and giving me a knowing grin. “He’s soooo nice!” shes says to me enthusiastically once Luke has left the room to use the bathroom. This warm feeling washes over me. I try and act as casually as I can. “He’s pretty cool!” I say, nodding. “Well ... apart from the fact he wears Harry Potter boxer shorts!” “I was kinda surprised when you asked if it was okay for him to come and stay!” Oh God. She’s got that look on her face again. Like she knows. And there goes my stomach clenching again. “Well … it was kind of a spontaneous invite! And then I couldn’t really take it back!” I lie. Emily nods, not looking completely convinced by my response. “You obviously like him enough to have invited him in the first place though!” I just shrug, not saying anything. She can see straight through me. I know she can. “He’s cute too!” she says, glaring at me wide eyed. Oh God. Make it stop. I look anxiously at the door. Maybe in hope of Luke reappearing and saving me from the conversation I’ve been dreading all day. But I know there’s no escape. Emily lowers her voice. “Seb, is there something going on with you two?” she asks, with an excited smirk. “NO!” I cry, but I’m failing to stop myself from smiling. She doesn’t look convinced. “Has something happened?” she asks, still excited. “Definitely not!” “Okay! Just checking!” And now Emily’s just smirking at me, clearly not convinced that things are completely platonic between me and Luke. I roll my eyes and shake my head at her. But I’m smiling too. Luke walks back in the room. “I vote for Chinese!” I say, thinking on my feet. Emily looks confused, then realises that Luke’s re-appeared. “For tomorrow night!” I say to her, my chest clenching. Because, despite my protests, Emily clearly knows that something’s going on and it’s probably only a matter of time before she gets me to confess that I have feelings for Luke. A few hours later and we’re all still hanging out in the living room watching something on TV. Emily leans her body into mine and rests her head against my shoulder. “I’m knackered!” Without thinking, I lift my arm up and wrap it round her shoulder. She leans into my side and wraps an arm around my waist and snuggles into me making an, “Mmmm!” sound. And then I look over at Luke and he’s watching us and fuck - what is that expression on his face? He looks a little awkward. But there’s this kind of longing there too. Like maybe, and this might sound like a bit of a reach, Luke’s looking at us and thinking about how much he’d like to be where Emily is right now. Snugged into my body with my arm wrapped around him. Fuck. My heart starts beating faster. My insides are suddenly doing weird things. “Seb, did you get bigger?! Jesus! You’re just like a mountain of muscle!” Emily says, squeezing my chest. I look over at Luke again. He still looks a little awkward, but his expression relaxes a little and he gives me a cute, knowing smirk. “Wait ‘till I become the next Blaine Holton!” I say. “Luke’s gonna be as big as me soon too!” Luke rolls his eyes, smirking still. “I don’t know why you boys are so determined to get bigger. You’re both so cute already!” Luke pulls a face and looks embarrassed. But I couldn’t agree with Emily more. At least on the Luke front. I really can’t imagine him getting any cuter. “I think I’m gonna have to go to bed soon!” Emily announces, still snuggled into me. “Sorry to be boring! You two can stay up if you want!” I feel a jolt of excitement at the thought of being alone with Luke again but I don’t look over at him. “Oh, have you got a sleeping bag or something for Luke?” She shakes her head. “No need. It’s all sorted!” For some reason my stomach clenches. “What d’you mean?” I ask. “Mmmm. Katie’s gone home for the weekend so I’m sleeping in her room!” Oh fuck. I think I know what’s coming next. Holy fucking, fuckity … “You two can sleep in my bed!” … fuuuuck! My stomach somersaults. Sharing a bed with Luke? Okay, I did NOT plan for that to happen. I didn’t even consider that it was a possibility! I try and act casual, but for some reason, I can’t seem to look over at Luke right now. “Cool!” I say, nodding and looking sraight at the television, completely covering up the fact that my heartbeat’s going crazy and my head is spinning at the thought of sleeping in the same fucking bed as Luke. Next to each other. Barely clothed. For the whole night. A little while later, Emily kisses us both on the cheek and goes to bed and I’m left alone with Luke. It feels a weird but nice being with him in a different setting to our dorm room. In an actual student house. Would we still hang out as much if we lived in a house like this? I’m guessing we would, we’d just have more rooms to choose from to sit in and watch Harry Potter films together. “Emily’s really nice!” Luke says to me. I nod. Maybe I’m imagining it, but it feels like there’s this awkwardness between us, and I think I know why. It’s the fact we’re about to share a bed. “Not sure why she’s friends with you!” he teases. I smirk at him. “Probably for the same reasons you are!” Maybe I should suggest that I sleep on the sofa and he can take Emily’s bed? But wouldn’t that be weird? We’re friends. Why the hell wouldn’t we share a bed? There’s nothing weird or awkward or strange about two friends doing that after all. “Is it too late to watch a Harry Potter film?” I joke. He grins at me and then his expression turns serious and neither of us are saying anything. There’s that awkwardness again. What if I accidentally wrap an arm around Luke in the middle of the night? What if he does it to me? What if we wake up, our bodies wrapped around each other, faces close together? “I’m pretty tired, actually!” Luke says. Fuck! He sounds a little nervous. He looks a little nervous too. Is it wrong that gives me this weird, excited feeling? “Come on then!” I say, nonchalantly while getting up from the sofa. Luke’s face relaxes a little. And I spot the unmistakable hint of a grin on his face. You could even say he almost looks excited. Luke follows me up the stairs to Emily’s room. I’m acting casually, but my insides are exploding. I turn my head once to look back at him. “You better not be a duvet hogger!” A little while later and I’m standing in the middle of Emily’s bedroom wearing just my blue and white checked boxers shorts and the usual white vest I sleep in. I look at the empty double bed (a bed I’ve slept in dozens of times before) and my stomach twists. Should I climb in bed and wait for Luke to get back from the bathroom? Would that make the whole thing less awkward? Luke walks in. Fuck - too late for that. He gives me an awkward smile. “What side do you want?” I ask him. He shrugs. “I’m easy!” “Going to bed wearing your jeans?” I tease. I don’t know why I just said that! He smiles sheepishly and suddenly looks embarrassed as he starts to take them off. I take the plunge and climb under the duvet at the far side of the bed. “I wonder what Emily would think of your new posing trunks?” I ask Luke as he pulls his sleeping vest over his head. His cute little calf muscles and modestly thick legs on display under a pair of Incredible Hulk (fucking seriously?!) boxer shorts. He looks over at me, the corner of his mouth curling into this cute grin. “Are you really gonna wear your pink posers for the end of term competition?” he asks. I shrug and give him an ominous smirk. “Might do!” Luke hovers by the bed looking awkward while I’m snuggled in. My huge arms are outside the duvet and folded. I can see his eyes scanning them. “Shall I, erm … turn the light off?” I can’t help but smile at the awkward adorableness of it all. “That is what people usually do before they go to bed, Luke!” He rolls his eyes and turns off the light. And then he comes over to the bed and fuck, my whole body is fucking buzzing as Luke climbs in and gets under the duvet next to me. We’re so close to each other. His legs and body next to mine. His cute head on the next pillow. I immediately get a hard on. Fuck. I don’t look over. I just carry on looking forward, my arms still folded and hanging out of the duvet. “I can’t believe you and Emily have been friends since you were four!” he says. I twist my head and see Luke lying next to me, all snuggled under the duvet in the dark and my chest flutters. “Mmmm!” I say, smiling. “Kinda cool that you both turned out to be gay!” he says. “Emily thinks maybe that’s why we were drawn to each other? I mean, there’s no way we could have known at that age but … she thinks maybe we sort of sensed we were both a bit different?” “You could say you were … Two The Same?” I laugh. “Fuck off!” I twist my head and he’s looking back at me in the dark. I can see he’s grinning at me. His face so close to mine. Fuck. “Do your parents know you’re gay?” Luke asks me. “Nah!” I reply. Wow. I kind of love this. Just lying in the dark next to Luke, talking to him. “Mum would be fine with it!” I tell him. “She’s got gay friends. Quite a few actually! Most of them are, like, posh lovey dovey theatre types. Oooh darling. You look faaaabulous!” Luke giggles next to me. “Some of them blatantly fancy me. Come to think of it, I think my mum might even be a bit of a fag hag!” “What about your dad?” “Pretty sure he’s not a fag hag.” I twist my head and Luke’s looking at me, waiting for a serious answer. I let out a little sigh. “I think he’d be okay? He’d probably just think, typical Woody - he has to be different! I can’t imagine him really talking to me about it either. Like, once I’d told him, he’d probably never mention it again!” Luke doesn’t say anything. I suddenly realise what I’m doing. I’m opening up to Luke. Telling him things about my family. Usually this kind of thing would make anxious. But, I dunno - for whatever reason, I don’t mind it. Maybe it’s because we’re both in the dark and not actually facing each other. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Luke. “It would be much worse if it wasn’t for Elliot!” Luke sharply twists his head. “Who’s that?” “Older brother!” I explain. “Didn’t know you had a brother?” I can see him smiling a little now. “Mmmm!” I say, nodding. “What’s he like?” I scoff. “He’s pretty much a golden boy! In other words, the complete opposite of me! He’s in his last year at Oxford.” “Oxford? Wow!” “Cambridge is first on the league table though. As I remind him every time I see him!” I look at Luke and smirk. I can see him smiling back at me. “Do you not get on?” Luke asks. “Actually we do! Well ... now at least. We hated each other when we were kids. He used to wind me up so much. He’d push and push until I snapped and acted out. And then he’d go to mum and I’d be the one who ended up getting into trouble. Clever little prick! Then we got older and we just seemed to have a lot more in common. Mostly alcohol! Sometimes, I think he’s even …” I pause and change my mind about what I’m about to say next. “Doesn’t matter!” I say, shaking my head. “What?” Luke asks. “Forget it!” “Tell me!” Luke gently orders. I sigh. “It sounds kind of awful but … well, imagine if you had a brother and you were the golden child. Everyone thinks of you as the clever one. The well behaved one. Generally seen as the more handsome one, although … hmmm, that’s debatable. And then your baby brother goes to the local hardcore gym and becomes a bodybuilder. With a six pack and pecs. And biceps twice as big as yours. And he suddenly gets loads of attention and is in the local newspaper and has shit loads of Instagram followers telling him how awesome he looks flexing in his shiny posers?” I look over at Luke and he’s smirking at me. “Are you saying your brother’s jealous of your shiny posers?” I laugh. “Maybe not the posers! But I think, for a lot of guys, there’s a part of them, deep down, that would LOVE to be a bodybuilder. As huge and jacked as I am. Strutting around, bouncing their pecs and flexing their biceps. Shiny posers optional!” “Hmmm. I dunno. I’d never wanna look like that!” Luke says, with a smirk. I grin back and bite my lip and then turn away from him again. “But yeah, Elliot’s pretty much the perfect son. He’ll graduate uni and probably go travelling to loads of exotic countries. Then he’ll come back, get an amazing job and get married to some blonde model with a really pretentious name. And my dad won’t care that his other son is gay and spends his days stomping round bodybuilding stages in his shiny pink trunks. I guess it’s kinda fitting. I’ve always been the rebellious one.” “So … your brother’s a bit like Prince William and you’re kinda like Prince Harry?” I laugh. “I guess so! If Prince Harry had pecs. And abs. And shiny pink posing trunks!” “What about you? Does your mum know?” I ask him. I’ve never really thought about it before, but suddenly I want to know. Suddenly I want to know everything about Luke. I look over so I can see his face as he answers. “I told her last year. Well … she kind of asked me!” I carry on looking at him. “It was after I split up with my boyfriend from the sixth form!” I feel a slight twist in my stomach. Luke had a boyfriend. He told me that earlier today. But now I’m really thinking about it. Some guy got to kiss Luke. And cuddle up to him. And call him his boyfriend. Huh. I never thought it was possible to be envious of someone who I’ve never even met. And know next to nothing about. “She asked me if we’d fallen out and I said yes. And then she said, ‘Luke I know he was your boyfriend and that you’re gay.’ And that was that.” “Was this … after your dad?” “Yeah! Mum said they never spoke about it, but … she had a feeling he knew!” I lie there looking at him. I don’t feel like I need to say anything. Just me being here listening is enough. “And … she said he would have been fine with it. That he’d have just wanted me to be happy!” Fuck. I feel my eyes start to sting. I carry on looking at Luke and he’s just looking back at me. “That’s really cool!” I say, giving him a smile. He smiles back and we just linger on each other's gazes. A definite Woody and Luke moment. What would he do if I rolled over on my side right now to face him? Would he do the same? Our bodies facing the other’s in the dark. Our faces close together. Me and Luke just inches away from each other in the dark. “Do you have brothers and sisters?” I ask him gently. “Yeah. A younger sister, Hayley!” I nod. “So you’re like a cool big brother?” He gives me a cute grin. Somehow it feels right. I can see Luke as an older brother. Looking out for his little sis. “Don't know ‘bout the cool part!” he says, still smiling. We stay silent for a little while. I look away and face out towards the room again. “Elliot and Sebastian!” Luke finally says after a while with a hint of amusement. I turn my head to face him again. “What?!” I ask smiling. “So terribly posh!” he teases. I laugh. “It could be worse! We could be called … Cuthbert and Tarquin!” “Are those your cousins?” “Yep!” I say in a matter-of-fact tone. Luke giggles and I smile back at him. We’re quiet again for a little while. I wonder if we’ll actually say goodnight or whether we’ll just stop talking and both drift off to sleep. I don’t care either way. “On Monday morning …” Luke sings quietly. “Fuck off!” I say, laughing. Luke laughs. “What? It’s a good song!” “I’m gonna kill Emily!” “Who knew you had so many talents? Woody the bodybuilder. Woody the illustrator. Woody the pop star!” I shake my head. I can’t stop smiling. “Do you want me to kick you?” “I’m thinking ‘bout you …” Luke sings. “How does the rest of it go again?” “Can’t remember! Sorry!” “Come on!” Luke orders, giggling. I groan. “When Tuesday comes, my head is spinning,” I say the words rather than sing them. “That’s it! Keep going!” “By Friday night, I’m going crazy.” I feel a sharp twist in my stomach. For some reason, I can’t quite bring myself to say the last line. “Go to sleep!” I order. “Yes, boss!” “And NO hogging the duvet!” I don’t look at Luke again and he doesn’t speak either. I roll on my side, putting my back to him and close my eyes, a smile on my face and this warm buzz rushing through my body. At being here. In this bed. Lying next to Luke. Thinking about everything we just talked about. Thinking about all the things we’ve done that day. And all the time we’ve spent together over the past few weeks. And as I drift off to sleep, the last line of mine and Emily’s cringeworthy song goes through my head. The line I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud. “And every day, I’m falling more in love with you.”
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