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TQuintA last won the day on June 11

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  1. Chapter 60 I thought I had been talking to myself, but I looked up to find two stagehands. They blatantly looked down at my cock, aghast and surprised at my nakedness and enormity. The stare had been going on for five full seconds, past the point of politeness. I waved at them sweetly and said, “There wouldn’t be a robe I could borrow to get back to my dressing room, would there?” The simplicity and honesty of the question brought them back to reality, and they exchanged looks with each other, unsure of what to do. They could barely hear each other’s suggestions because the audience was still applauding. I just wanted to get back to my dressing room. The stagehands provided no help until the stage manager, an aspiring bodybuilder in a form-fitting uniform with a headset, came forward with his clipboard. He held it in front of my genitalia, but even an entire clipboard wasn’t quite enough to cover the tip of my cock, which dangled below it. The audience was still applauding. Over the speaker, a voice called me back onstage for an encore. I hadn’t prepared for this. No one had prepared me for this. The stage manager was talking furiously in his headset at a volume just quiet enough that I couldn’t hear him. He looked desperate, and it seemed like the voice on the other side was continuously interrupting him. Suddenly, the stage manager shouted, “Because we’re not licensed for nudity!” But that didn’t end his argument with the person on the other end of the headset. The audience was still applauding, getting even louder, trying to lure me back onstage. This wasn’t going to end until I went back out one way or another. I picked up my poser to survey the damage. As it turned out, only one leg had snapped: the pouch—the most important part—was still intact. I put myself back into the pouch and held the frayed fabric together. “Got a pin or some masking tape?” I asked all three of them. One of the stagehands came running forward with a small handful of safety pins. When I tried to pin the poser back together, the meaty flesh of my thigh kept getting in the way, forcing the fabric back apart. I stabbed myself twice, so the stagehand stepped in to hold the fabric while I tried to pin it. Between his bulk and mine, I couldn’t reach the damn poser anymore, so the stagehand who’d brought the pins came back over to put the pin in. One pin proved insufficient—that thing was going to pop off any moment, so the stagehand added another, and another. It took all three of us and seven safety pins, but I was now decent. Thankfully, under the bright stage lights, the silver of the safety pins and the metallic gold of the posers blended together. The audience was still applauding as I walked back out onstage. I waved to them, and the volume grew more thunderous. The room had actually gone up a few degrees in temperature from the fervor. I approached centerstage and was joined by a presenter holding two microphones. I could see the flotilla of television cameras moving closer to capture the interview. A colony of photographers surrounded them, flashing pictures by the score. The announcer handed me a mike and spoke into the other. The audience quieted. “I don’t think anyone in this room is going to forget that routine anytime soon.” And they were cheering again. “Thank you,” I responded as humbly as I could, trying to get the audience calm again. The photo flashes were constant and erratic, so I focused on the TV cameras. I looked directly into each camera as I spoke, moving gracefully from one to the next. As I spoke, the audience calmed down, and all attention turned to me. It only seemed appropriate to start thanking people, so I thanked Charles and recommended him as a trainer to any serious lifter in the area. I thanked Luke for getting me into weightlifting in the first place. I thanked Dave for being my friend and my manager. I stopped before thanking James. I didn’t know if that would embarrass him too much. To explain the abrupt stop, I looked into the final camera and added, “And my parents for supporting my various pursuits.” “You are a relative unknown to the bodybuilding circuit, so tell us a little about yourself.” I was never a fan of extemporaneous speaking, but I mentioned my school, my major, my course load, my recent performing endeavors, and the soccer team. I clarified, “But the soccer team is a technicality, really.” The announcer stood dumbfounded at my eloquence. The photographers never stopped taking pictures the entire time I spoke. “All I can say is wow. Is there some special lady at home who gets this all to herself, or are you on the market?” the announcer asked. His tone of voice indicated he thought it was an innocent, safe either/or. I had to correct him of that notion. “Neither. My boyfriend is in the audience.” I was nearly blinded as the flashes intensified. I didn’t expect an out gay bodybuilder to be a story, but apparently, to these people, it was. In what was left of my peripheral vision, I could see a spotlight begin to swivel to find James. I looked up at the light technician and pointed, “And if you shine a spotlight on him, he will never forgive me.” The light technician stopped swiveling. “Is your boyfriend a big fella too?” “Yes, he is, and do let’s talk about something else. He doesn’t like being the center of attention.” There was a firmness in my voice that the announcer respected. “Alright, then,” the announcer had a devilish look in his eye. “What took you so long to get back onstage for your encore interview?” “The answer is indelicate.” “Nonsense.” I could immediately tell he didn’t know what the word “indelicate” meant, in part because he kept prying. “What caused the delay?” “You don’t shy away from the tough questions, do you?” I steeled myself and looked the announcer dead in the eyes. I was about to admit this in front of a crowd of strangers, my parents, and television cameras. “My poser was too small for me, and I burst out of it backstage. It took some lateral thinking, two of your stage crew, and a handful of safety pins to get me back into it,” I turned my leg to the side and showed off the safety pins. I held the pose, knowing every photographer and camera operator was going to want a good, close look at it. “So, no more dancing today?” “Not unless you want to turn this into an entirely different show,” I said. The audience laughed. One of the cameramen even laughed. The joke wasn’t even funny. “However, I don’t want to give you nothing, so…” I handed my mike to the announcer, turned my body toward the cameras, and did a double bicep pose. A constellation of photo flashes. The announcer stepped closer to my bicep, and as he passed it, I saw that my bicep was as big as his head. My arms were the size of a grown man’s head. “This is inhuman,” the announcer said, squeezing the muscle. A supernova of flashes. All the attention was getting to my head. Well, my cockhead. If I didn’t end this soon, I was going to burst out of my poser again. So, I relaxed the pose, pointed a microphone at my face, and said, “Thank you, you’ve been a terrific audience. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change into something not held together by hope. Good afternoon.” Even though I could hear the announcer, the photographers, and the cameraman all shouting questions at me, I strode offstage and back to my dressing room.
  2. Chapter 59 I slowly made my way to the stage. My body was larger than I was used to it, and the hallways in the backstage area felt impossibly small. I was too wide to comfortably negotiate a hallway. To make matters worse, my poser was ready to burst. I had to walk with an even wider stance than I was used to because my thighs kept getting in the way of my balls, and my balls kept getting in the way of my thighs. The hallway felt too small with just my shoulders, but adding in everything else, I felt like a massive boulder in a small cave. I also felt heavy in a way I never had. The ten pounds of muscle was noticeable, but the weight tugging on my groin was significant and portentous. I had gotten so used to the weight of my cock and balls at their previous monstrous size, so I was surprised by just how damn heavy they felt. Adding two inches in length, the extra girth, and the mass of my enlarged balls… Quick mental math assured me that my entire package was half again as heavy as it had been. That explained it. Gravity was pulling down on that extra weight with a vengeance, my poser threatening to slip down even further. I was suddenly grateful that Charles had come up with three entirely different posing routines. My unquestioned lord and master had left it up to me which one I did today, so I was free to do the easy one and get off the stage as quickly as possible, especially with all this extra cock and ball-meat practically bursting from my poser. When I got backstage, I relaxed a little because there was more space to breathe and expand. While I waited in the wings, I went over the simple routine in my head. Nervous wasn’t the right word; I was anxious to have this whole thing behind me. I peeked through a slit in the curtain to take in the crowd. It was larger than I expected, but there were still some empty seats in the back. The space was so crowded, though, that I couldn’t find James, or my parents, or any familiar face. I was surprised to see so many TV cameras, and mildly relieved that they were all labeled with local TV stations. This was going to be on TV? Great. I had gotten caught up in my own thoughts that I only heard every third word they said over the microphone. Then, before I knew what was happening, someone was pushing me gently into a spotlight. I walked to centerstage and held a neutral pose for the audience to take me in. That alone caused an uproar. Just standing there, breathing, my immensity on full display, was enough for the audience to go mad. James would never forgive me if I just did the basic routine with the audience that raucous, so I decided to go for the intermediate routine. My music started, and I it the first pose: side chest. I flexed my pecs so fiercely that they nearly careened upwards into my chin. They ballooned so fully when I flexed that they pushed my arms further to the side—I almost lost the pose. The audience, somehow, got louder. “Fuck it,” I thought to myself and went into the third routine, the hard one that I’d never fully mastered. I went through the poses, one by one, dancing to transition from one to the next—dances I’d never have been caught dead doing at a party (pop and lock, the robot, every faux-breakdance move from the ‘80s), but the audience was eating it up. I had a little trouble keeping up with the rhythm, but just a little. It took just a skosh more effort to heft my new bulk, and I had underestimated just how big ten more pounds would make me. During my double bicep pose, I felt my biceps graze the side of my face, kissing my ears. They’d never done that before. My smile momentarily faded into a look of concern, but the audience either didn’t notice or didn’t care. That’s when it hit me: I could do anything on this stage, even fall flat on my face, and the audience would just cheer louder. Overconfident now, I leapt into the air with all my might, doing a half-twist to turn around, showing the audience my defined glutes and impossibly wide back. I was so glad that my back was to the audience when I landed because my entire package bounced and heaved, nearly taking the poser with it. I hit several poses in a row, all on the beat, feeling the music flow through me. I repeated my leap-twist to turn back to the audience again, giving them a face full of my overfull, jostling poser. When I flexed my quads, they fought for space with each other, and my cock and balls were forced so far forward I thought my poser would tear right off my body. The audience loved it all, growing steadily louder as I posed. I sucked in my waist and held a vacuum pose. The audience briefly fell silent when they saw just how little fat my body contained. But the silence was just as quickly broken by a tidal wave of cheers and applause. Dave was right. I am a show-off. The audience’s praise was addictive, and I wanted more. Waving my hands in an upward gesture, I goaded the audience to applaud harder, then went into my front lat spread, my lats reaching so far outward I could barely get my fists to my waist. The music was reaching a crescendo, so I did a few body rolls in time with the music. I even threw in a few unplanned disco points and arm rolls Vanessa had me learn “just for the fun of it.” The audience ate it up with a spoon. Just as they were about to foment into a lather, I pulled out my best pose: the most muscular. The room literally shook with their applause; even the stage rumbled underneath me. The song was dying down, which meant it was time for the coup de grace: the one-handed handspring. It was the one move that I’d never successfully accomplished even once, but I was feeling cocky. When I landed on my right hand, I held the handstand for a second—a move I had been able to do a few times—then completed the handspring. The audience didn’t know how to react. They’d never seen anyone my size with my definition, and they’d definitely never seen him move that way. In the end, all those weeks of rehearsal had boiled down to a two-minute routine. As the audience applauded, I bowed to accept the acclaim, and did another handspring (with both hands; I’m not crazy) back offstage into the wings. When I landed behind the curtain, my poser gave up the ghost and exploded. “Guess I overdid it,” I said.
  3. Chapter 58 I had expected a large, communal changing area, but I had a private changing room. It was a small room, but it was a private room. Meagerly furnished, it had a small wooden chair, a lighted vanity mirror, and a black metal coatrack to hang my clothes on. I don’t know what strings Dave had to pull to get it, but I would remember to thank him for it. As soon as James closed the door behind him, he locked it and leaned his back against it. I’d seen that look in his eyes. He was thinking ungentlemanly thoughts. “Not now, James,” I said as I pulled my pants off. “That’s not what I was thinking,” he said. “Wasn’t it?” After a second, he said, “That’s not all I was thinking.” It was less than an hour to my routine, and I was suddenly nervous because my parents were in the audience. And now James was being coy. “Well?” I asked, now standing completely naked. “Out with it.” James came over and began stroking my abs with his left hand. “I was just thinking,” he put his other hand on my shoulder and began tracing tiny loops with his finger, “that you’re so close to 300. So achingly close.” I could see where this was going, but I was enjoying the attention. James continued. “It seems a shame not to go out and give your best show. They audience came expecting to see a rising star of college bodybuilding. The biggest one.” “290 is plenty big. I’m already the biggest guy onstage. Maybe the biggest guy here.” “We can get rid of that ‘maybe,’” James added, lowering his left hand to my cock. It began to harden on contact. “That’s underhanded,” I said. “And if you wake my cock up, it’s your responsibility to put it back to sleep.” “I’d be delighted,” he said, moving his left hand lower to tickle my balls. “My official weigh in was 290 pounds. They’ll know something’s up.” “They’re not going to weigh you onstage,” James said, moving his lips closer to my ear to whisper. “And a guy like you, a guy who’s already so big, ten pounds might go unnoticed.” I was now at full mast. James fit as much of his hand around my shaft as he could and begin stroking it up and down. He started kissing my ear, his beard rubbing my check and neck. He moved his right hand to the back of my head and pulled me closer to him. “Fine,” I acceded. “Ten pounds.” “That’s my Big Guy,” James cooed. “My beautiful Big Guy.” I shuddered in the deep pleasure of the erotic euphoria, my entire body a current of electric excitement. I turned my head to kiss James. As I did, James backed away. “Fuck!” he said with a note of panic in his voice. “What?” I asked, coming out of my reverie. “Hand jobs count as sex,” James said. “Good rule to know.” “What do you mean?” I asked as I looked down. Even past my giant shelf of pecs, I could see my cock, enlarged and inflated to Himalayan proportions, pressing itself firmly into my pec cleavage. All trace of panic left James, and his wicked smile returned. “That looks absolutely delightful.” My cock was had thickened nearly to the size of a forearm—and not a weak one either, the forearm of someone Luke’s size. My balls were roiling in their newfound volume, each practically the size of a softball. The tip of my cockhead was nestled so gingerly in my pecs, but every breath in or out caused my pecs to heave, stroking my cock head. “I have an idea,” I said to James. “Get me something to strap this beast down for a bit.” Dutifully, James fetched my belt and strapped my cock to my upper thigh. The thigh and cock together were almost too much girth for the belt as my thigh was already much thicker than my waist. Once it was secure, I put James’s hand on my cheek. “Still want me at 300?” I asked. “More than anything,” he replied. “Well, then, you know what to do.” “Big Guy,” James said. “You’re my Big Guy.” I felt my muscles burst with energy and swell outwards as an intense fire of deep joy burned through my brain. Ten pounds might go unnoticed by the audience, but I could feel each pound push my body outwards beyond its known limits. My shoulders went wider, my arms rounded stronger, my chest pulled outwards. It may have been my imagination, but it actually felt like my waist pulled inwards. In the mirror I could see that I now definitely had a 10-pack. If they were an urban legend, then I was Bigfoot. As the growth hit my legs, my thigh/cock combo snapped the belt. I was an immense 300-pound behemoth with an 18-inch god-cock. Now free from its prison, my cock returned back to my pecs, but my pecs were now fuller, bigger, and harder, wrapping my cock in their grip. I flexed my pecs while pulling my torso up and down with my ab muscles, fucking my own pecs. I worked the tip of my cock harder and harder, flexing my pecs tighter, forcing in more blood until my cock and pecs blushed red like ripe fruit. James had pulled out his own cock and stroked himself mindlessly. I had never felt so powerful, massive, virile, or erotic. I turned to faced the mirror, and the sight of my giant cock fucking my giant muscles drove me over the edge, and I erupted. My arm flew to the wall to support myself, but it went right through the wall and left a hole. I pumped out more cum. With my other hand, I reached out for James’s shoulder to support myself but ended up pushing him to the ground. His cock also exploded, adding his cum to mine. I pumped out more cum. I threw my head back to get more air into my lungs. This huge body required a lot of oxygen, especially right now. I pumped out more cum. Still in the throes of it, I began grunting in time to my body’s vibrations. I pumped out more cum. James looked up at me in awe. I had trouble seeing him over my pecs. I could just make out his eyes and the top of his forehead. I pumped out more cum. Finally, I felt my orgasm subside. I collapsed backwards onto the chair, and it broke underneath me. “They were kind enough to give me a private room” I said, surveying the hole in the wall and the pile of splinters underneath me, “and I went and ruined it.” “Rock stars always wreck their dressing rooms,” James said, his pecs heaving. “They’re never inviting me back,” I added. “You didn’t want to come back,” James said. Changing the subject, he added, “Next time, can I fuck those puppies?” He pointed at my pecs. I laughed, loud and heartily. “I look forward to it,” I said. “Especially since I doubt I’ll be able to get this anywhere inside you.” “Where there’s a will,” James said. “But you’re right. It will be a lot of effort. And a lot of lube.” “That’s an understatement,” I said, standing up to begin getting ready. “It’ll be a lot of effort just to get this ostrich eggs into the poser I brought. Getting my cock up your ass will require contortion and the dark arts.” I reached up to wipe my pecs, and felt just how large my arms were. If I hadn’t been forced to do yoga every day for the last three weeks, I doubt I would be able to stretch my arm around my pecs to reach the front of them. As my arms flexed in full relief, blowing up like an overinflated football, James said, “If you keep growing at this rate, your arms are going to get bigger than your waist.” “I’m trying to get my cock to go down,” I said. “Save talk like that for our next fuck.” “Sorry,” James said, admonished. “So, what should I do now?” He, like the room, was covered in our cum. “Clean up. As much as you can.” With that, James was on his feet and licking off my chest. “I meant with a towel,” I said. “Where’s the fun in that?” James said between licks. “Besides, if I had to wait until after the show to feel up these mighty pecs, my head would explode.” Once James had gotten the bulk of it off me, I grabbed a towel and cleaned up the rest. “Are you just going to hide out in here the rest of the day?” I asked. James pulled out a change of clothes from the bag. “A gentleman prepares,” he said. “While you’re in there,” I added, “could you get my posers?” James pulled out my posers. It was bright gold, just like my Rocky thong had been, and unlike the posers I’d been practicing in all week, there was barely any fabric except for the prodigious pouch. “My posers are red,” I said. “The ones I practiced in all last week are red.” “This will look so much better,” James said. “You didn’t even bring my red posers, did you?” I asked. “Why would I do a foolish thing like that?” Getting the posers up to my knees was easy enough. Getting them over my thighs took a little effort, but once they were past the thickest part, they slid right up. I got one testicle into the pouch, and it fit easily, but the fabric fought the second testicle as I tried to put that one in. Once they were both in, I was convinced there was no room for my cock. Even flaccid, this thing was about twice the size of my original erect cock. But I fought and folded and futzed, and eventually got the whole thing in. I looked at myself in the mirror. It looked like I was trying to smuggle a watermelon. “They’re going to notice this,” I argued. “Maybe,” James said. “but so what?” “I’m going to get arrested for public indecency,” I said. “I will gladly pay your bail,” James said, kissing my shoulder. “This is sort of my fault.” I patted James on the head and took a deep breath. In the reflection, James and I locked eye contact, and his eyes flashed gold. “It’s show time,” he said.
  4. Chapter 57 Dave drove the four of us to the convention center in the city. The car was a surreal experience. I’d been in it only two weeks ago, but in just those two weeks, James and I had gotten so big that the back seat was crowded with us, shoulder pressed to shoulder. And now I did need the seatbelt expander to get the belt around my pecs. “Don’t let your ego get too big, Chrissy,” Dave said. “Luxury cars always have small seatbelts. I was dressed in my nicest clothes—Dave insisted. James had my bag with my posing outfit; I was going to change after we checked in. Charles had arrived at the convention center before us to get our passes and itinerary, so we walked in through the front doors to find him. The first thing I did when I walked in was survey the other bodybuilders and muscle men who had been invited to compete. “It can’t be,” I said. “It just can’t be.” Luke, reading my mind, slapped my back. “Yep, buddy. You’re the biggest fucker here. There are some pros who go up above 300 in the off season, but for competitions? You’re still big dog.” My pants suddenly became tight. “Woof,” I said, trying to sound like I was playing along, like Luke’s comment had just rolled off my back, but I was betrayed by the doubt in my voice. “Do I detect a note of reticence?” Dave asked. “I don’t understand.” “I’m a fake. They’ll spot me for the fake I am. I don’t think I can do this anymore.” “Nonsense,” Dave said. “You have every right to be here.” “Do I? They earned their muscles. They’re athletes, Dave. You keep reminding me how much of one I’m not.” Dave burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Chrissy. You are taking this way too seriously. You’re not committing to anything. This is one bodybuilding show. You’re not going pro. You’re not stealing anyone’s livelihood. This is merely an opportunity. A key to a door that used to be locked to you.” “De-metaphor that, please.” “Let’s say you come to LA with me. To get a job in entertainment, you need name recognition. You’ve already got a little, but doing a good show here will give you a lot. Let’s say you take Nicholas Donner up on his offer to be his muse. To be valuable to him, you need a beautiful body. Doing a good show here will validate your beauty and raise how much he’ll pay for the privilege to photograph it. Let’s say you stick with your degree and go into medicine. To get into that career, you’re going to need a Masters, maybe a PhD. Doing a good show here will make you stand out from all the other applicants, making it easier to get into the program of your choice. This is just a feather in your cap, Chrissy. Enjoy your day. Don’t take it so seriously.” “Thanks, Dave.” “No problem. Just remember that beautiful speech in the next five minutes.” “Why?” I asked. Dave walked away from me into the crowd and shouted, “Angela! Matthew!” as he walked to two people who seemed utterly lost and out of place. Angela was a tall woman with a streak of gray in her sandy blonde hair and a look of nervousness on her face. She was wearing make-up, but the haphazard way it was applied gave away the fact that she almost never wore it. She was dressed in a maroon sweater and matching pants in an expensive-looking pair of flats. She had a death grip around her large black purse, as though letting it go would untether her. Matthew was a shorter man, only coming up to her shoulder, and his curly brown hair resisted being combed. His brown eyes sparkled with kindness, but he had a slight squint to them because he refused to wear his glasses. His cheeks showed the beginnings of smile lines. He was wearing a Christmas sweater and black denim pants. Somehow, the whole discordant look made sense when you saw his sneakers: this was a man who put on whatever was closest to him. “Angela and Matthew?” I repeated, shocked. “Are those?” James asked. “Yep,” Luke said. “My parents.” Dave led my parents back over to where the three of us were standing. When my father saw me, he tapped on Mom’s shoulder. “Angie, my glasses.” She fished them out of her purse and handed them to him. Dad put his glasses on and scrutinized his son. “Well, hello, Chris. It’s good to see you again. I like the blond. I might try it myself.” Mom put her hand on my shoulder and smiled. “It is lovely to see you.” Where was the shock? The surprise? The horror? “You two seem unfazed by my size.” “We follow you on Instagram and Twitter, Chris,” Dad said. “We’ve seen the steady progress.” “We ‘like’ all your pictures,” Mom added. “I have an Instagram?” Dave coughed and pulled out his phone. “So, all those pictures you’ve taken of me…?” I trailed off. “And about 9.000 more you didn’t notice,” Dave said. “So that wasn’t your account?” Mom asked. “Dave has been acting as my manager. He took care of it for me.” Seeing the tension that was about to build up, Luke took his cue. “We’ll leave you to the family reunion,” Luke said, leading Dave away. “Come on, babe.” “But I want to stay.” “I know you do, which is why I’m taking you someplace where you can’t add your color commentary.” With that, they melted into the crowd. Once Dave and Luke were out of earshot, Mom said, “I do think this is a bit extreme, but that Charles fellow assures me you are in prime health, and he’s sent me your medical records.” She looked me up and down. “You look eerily like Uncle Rudy, but he never got this big.” She shook her head. “It’s uncanny.” I hugged my mother and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you too, Mom.” Dad turned his cheek and leaned forward. “I love you too, Dad.” Dad got in a bit closer to size me up properly. “It’s hard to believe I’m your father. You’re huge. You could pick me up like a baby.” “One-handed,” I added, flexing my bicep. “That is quite impressive. That is the biggest arm I have ever seen.” He put his hands on my waist. “And yet you’re so trim.” His hands went back and forth between our two waists. He was dumbfounded to discover that mine was smaller than his, and he was a rather fit man. “How do you support that upper body with this little thing?” He knocked a finger against my abs, just a gentle knock, and the solidness of my core hurt his finger. “Ah. That’s how,” he said, blowing on his finger. “You built a retaining wall.” “Thanks, Dad,” I said, a little weirded out by how my dad was talking about my body. Dad let go of me and looked around. “So, we know Luke, and we just met Dave. Where’s the boyfriend?” I looked to my right. James had vanished. I turned around, and there he was behind me, cowering down so my parents wouldn’t see him. I gave him a look of mild amusement, and he waved at me sheepishly. “You got this,” I said to him. He took a deep breath and stepped from around me. “Hello, Dr…” Mom interrupted him by saying, “Sweet Jesus!” “What?” I asked, concerned. “This giant man was hiding behind you?” “Yeah,” I said. “He gets shy around strangers.” “Not my point. He’s huge, he’s big enough to compete, and he hid behind you.” This is the shock I was looking for. “You saw how big I was.” “Seeing and understanding are two entirely different things.” She turned to James. “I’m sorry for shouting. That was rude. You can call me Angie. This is my husband Matt.” Dad put his hand out for James to shake, and he just stared at it. “You don’t shake hands?” Dad asked. “He’s a hugger,” I said. A smile spreading on his face, Dad opened his arms wide, “Then come on and hug me.” Seeing my father and James hug was yet another thing to add to the list of surreal things I had experienced that day. “I’ll just wave,” Mom said. “I’m not much for hugging.” James nodded and stood next to my father, who looked James up and down from head to toe. “He’s a cute one, Chris. Walk with me, James.” With that, my father escorted James away to have a private conversation. “Don’t worry,” Mom said. “He’s just seeing if James is available to stay with us for part of winter break. We want to get to know him better.” Her voice had a mild sharpness to it. I knew this tone. This was the beginning of a guilt trip. “That’s cool.” “Since you’ve already spent a week with his fathers.” Her tone was intensifying. “A weekend,” I corrected. “And Thanksgiving,” she added, her tone even more pointed. And… I felt guilty. “I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know Thanksgiving was so important to you.” “Who cares about Thanksgiving? That patriarchal nightmare? We missed you.” “I’m sorry, Mom.” “I do understand, though. I was young once too. Though, I must say, my college boyfriend looked nothing like that young man.” “Mom,” I said, goading her a little, “are you saying my boyfriend is hot?” Mom remained un-goaded. “It’s an objective fact, son.” She looked at me and added, “Are his eyes purple?” “Violet,” I said. “Though he insists they’re blue.” “They’re medically fascinating,” she stated. Then, as an afterthought, she admitted, “And mesmerizing.” “I like ‘em,” I said, downplaying it. “And he’s bigger than I expected. Did he get you into weightlifting?” she asked. “It was more Dave and Luke who did that, but we workout together, yes.” “Are you going to be able to watch each other’s routines?” I laughed so hard I snorted. “What’s so funny?” “When you get to know James better, you’ll realize how funny it was to suggest he’d go onstage.” “You did say he was shy.” “Incredibly. And I’m not competing, Mom. I’m just doing a routine. I’m ineligible to compete.” “That’s right, Dave said as much.” She shook her head. “The soccer team? You never showed the least ambition or talent for soccer before.” “I still don’t. I’ll explain the whole thing at Christmas. It’s a long story. Right now, I want to know why you and Dad are even here.” “To support you, of course.” “I don’t follow.” “Well, we missed the senior showcase because it came up so quickly. We were all set to go to your soccer debut, but then I had to cover for a sick colleague. We’ve missed too many of your events this year.” “You knew about the showcase and the soccer game?” “Yes. Dave…” I interrupted. “Dave invited you? To all of them?” “Of course. We’re just glad we could finally make it to one. Although, it does feel a little silly coming all the way down here when we’ll just be seeing you next week anyways. But, I’ve never been to a bodybuilding show, and, well, I think it’s healthy try everything once.” She looked around the room and saw half a dozen men wearing only their posers. “Once.” She repeated. James came bounding back and grabbed me by the arms. “Matt invited me to your house for winter break. From the 18th, straight through Christmas.” My father slowly walked back and joined us. “It’s official.” “Dad, I have to ask,” I said, pointing to his sweater. “What’s with that ugly thing?” “I think it’s neat. Besides, I needed something to put over my t-shirt.” “T-shirt?” I asked. “Don’t,” Angela said, her hand going to her temple. Dad whipped off his sweater, and underneath was a light blue t-shirt, tucked into his pants, that read, in yellow letters, “Father of @SoccerTweetGuy.” “Dad, that is both horrible and awesome. Is that my twitter handle?” “Yep. Do you love it or do you love it? Or do you love it?” “It’s great, Dad.” “You should see the one he made for the soccer game,” Mom said. “Ever since he became this huge, hulking hero who looks almost nothing like me, I want people to know he’s my son. A father can brag.” “I think it’s awesome,” James said. “Thank you, James.” At that moment, Charles came from out of nowhere and threw an ID badge and a manila envelope at me. “Come on, schmoopsy. Let’s get a move on. Tickety-boo.” “Is he for real?” Dad asked. “Charles, these are my parents,” I said. “Charmed. Now, scoot, mister. Your routine is in just under an hour, and you’ve got to get changed.” Before I could even say goodbye to my parents, Charles railroaded James and me to the backstage area.
  5. Chapter 56 As soon as we recovered, we dressed, found some cleaning supplies in a closet, cleaned up our table, and locked all the cafeteria doors behind us. We were back in our bed and spooning within a half hour, and back on Charles’s demanding schedule. I woke up on Tuesday. My calendar was so full, I had to take stock of everything that was headed my way. Counting that day, it was just over a week until the invitational. Thursday was the last day of class, my philosophy final was due in one week, and the day after that was the invitational. And Charles had promised that the last week of training was going to be the hardest. This was going to be grueling. Luke and Dave were nowhere to be found until lunch. When they did show up at our usual table, they had huge smiles on their faces. “Pleasant honeymoon?” I asked. “Something like that,” Luke said. “What did you two get up to last night?” Dave asked with a leading tone. James unabashedly announced, “Chris walked across campus naked and then we fucked at this exact table.” Dave, genuinely taken aback, said, “I thought I was the dramatic one.” Luke’s big, cheesy smile was back. “That’s right, studs.” He pounded James’s fist, and then mine. “It wasn’t on Charles’s schedule, but last night was special,” I said. “I’ll say,” Dave said, hiding something behind his voice. I would have pried to find out what the secret was, but Charles was expecting us in the athletic center. And then the days began to blur together again. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. Wednesday. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. Thursday Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. On Friday, the absence of class made my world feel like a record that had skipped its groove. Charles filled in the schedule with some extra lifting, posing, and dance practice. I had come nowhere near close to mastering the intricate feats of the hard dance routine, but I had nailed down the simpler two. I could barely do a handspring with both hands, but Charles was my unquestioned lord and master, so I still tried to do the one-handed one. And on top of all that, I still had to write my philosophy paper. The schedule changed, but only barely. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Dancing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. Saturday. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. Sunday. Eating. Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Posing. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. Monday. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping I woke up, and it was Tuesday morning again. I felt mighty and powerful. All my lifts were insanely high, my clothes were feeling tight in the arms and shoulders, but loose around my waist, which was somehow even more taut and defined than it had been a month ago. I could swear I had the beginnings of a ten-pack, and I thought those were only urban legends. I put on my favorite long-sleeved workout shirt so I wouldn’t need to put on a jacket, and I walked to my philosophy professor’s office. I put my essay in his mailbox, and I felt a relief wash over me. Somewhere deep inside of me, I knew it was an A paper. I don’t know how I had managed it, but I had. When I got back to my room, James was waiting for me in his workout gear. “It’s weigh-in today.” I was blasé about the whole thing, pretty sure I’d still be around 285. I might even had dropped a little weight. Sure, I could tell I was stronger, so I might have put on some muscle, but it was counterbalanced and redistributed by some weight I’d lost. I was beyond shredded. I thought I could see my muscle fibers before: I now was a relief map of fibers and veins. James was far from blasé. Ever since Charles had forbidden us from weighing ourselves, James was excited to see what his weight was. He had never put on so much mass so much so fast. He’d been hovering around 210-215 before Charles’s boot camp, and he had to know just how much he’d put on. We got to the athletic center and found Charles in the room he was using as his private office. He was standing next to a scale. “Morning, dudarinos. I know you’ve been praying for this day. So, let’s get to doing. Chris, you first.” I stepped on the scale, and Charles said, “Excellent. Right where I expected.” I looked down at my mass, as far as I could considering how far out my pecs jutted. “Can you read the display for me?” I asked. “290, silly,” Charles said. I’d somehow put on five pounds. “Aren’t I supposed to lose weight during conditioning?” I asked Charles. “You’re an odd one, that’s sure as sugar,” Charles said. “Now, James, you’re up, fella.” We all knew James had put on muscle—Charles had had him on my diet and workout plan—but when James stepped on the scale, I was blown away. 233. James came over to get a huge hug, and I took my opportunity. “Eighteen pounds in three weeks?” I whispered to James, dumbfounded. “That’s not biologically possible!” “Really?” James said. “You, of all people, want to tell me what’s biologically possible.” “Hey, it didn’t take me three weeks. It took me thirty seconds,” I said. “I hear whispering!” Charles said in his sing-song. “You two love-doodles really whisper a lot.” “Sorry, Charles,” we said in unison. “Good work, team!” Charles said. He turned to James and added, “You’re as big as me now, Mr. Shy-Pants.” The realization that my James had grown so big as to be the same size as this frightening mountain of man muscle hit me like a ton of bricks. Of its own accord, my 16-inch cock grew so stiff that it pulled down the front of my boxer briefs and workout tights. I felt like I was going to explode right there. “I’ll leave you to take care of that,” Charles said. “Be quick like bunnies. You’re under my control for one more day, and I won’t let you slack.” Once Charles was out of the office, James locked the door behind him and lowered the blind. “We’re fucking huge,” James said. I could see he was equally erect. I kept Charles’s desk between James and me. I had questions before we celebrated. “You didn’t Big Guy me while I was asleep or something, did you?” “Of course not. Besides, it only works if you hear it.” “Are you sure? I wouldn’t be mad.” “I tried it, of course, back during fall break, and nothing happened. I promise you, if you don’t hear it, it won’t happen.” “Chris, I put on 18 pounds. You can’t Big Guy me.” “Was Charles dosing us with something? He did always have the cafeteria ladies set aside our food, specially made.” “I don’t care. I don’t care if it was drugs, or if it was the power of suggestion, or if it was magic,” James said. “You look unbelievable.” “I look unbelievable?” I said. “Look at you. You’re getting massive yourself, there. Your pecs are so firm and round, your arms are so powerful...” James interrupted with, “And you’re about to drip pre onto Charles’s desk.” I turned to the side so my cockhead was over the floor, and not his desk. Through the door, that childlike singsong came in loud and clear. “I hear more whispers when I should be hearing someone slay a dragon. Make it snappy.” James moved over to Charles’s filing cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. “I was going to have Charles give this to you after the invitational, sort of as a reward, but I think we need its powers now.” “What is it?” I asked. James took something out of the top drawer and dropped it on Charles’s desk. “Open to November,” he said. “The calendar’s in?” I asked. I flipped to November, and there I was. I remember when I took that picture, I was bigger than the entire soccer team, and my cock was so big that I couldn’t fit in the modesty pouch. And now. “I look so tiny,” I said. “That’s because the man in that picture,” James said, “that hot man, that man who the photographer called a beefy motherfucker, is tiny compared to you. Your cock is four whole inches bigger, and you weigh a hundred pounds more than him.” Four inches? A hundred? My orgasm came so suddenly that I had no time to brace myself. The force was so powerful that it knocked me back against the wall in Charles’s office. Stream after stream of cum sprayed out of my cock. I roared so loudly that I actually felt my torso rumble. The sheer massiveness of my body was enough to send me into this height of orgasmic rapture. Seeing me cum, James brought himself to a quick orgasm with his right hand, watching my humongous body explode, objectifying me as though I were a porn video and not his boyfriend. As I stood there, trying to get my footing, leaning against the wall, we heard Charles through the door. “Super-duper. Change into some fresh workout clothes, and let’s make the most of this last day.”
  6. Chapter 55 For a moment, I thought that James might have just returned to our room and wanted me to follow him there, but that didn’t match the wording of the note and felt a bit prosaic for James. Especially since he was feeling nostalgic. Then it hit me like a bolt from the blue. We had just re-enacted the time James met me; now he wanted to re-enact when I met him. I was headed to the cafeteria, not the dorms. I closed the door to the LGBT center behind me, delighted to find out that James had set it to lock automatically. The fastest way to the cafeteria was to walk straight through the center of campus, but that would mean walking through an open area completely naked. It was a chilly night, and there was a slight rustle of wind that added a bite to the air. But I wasn’t worried about the temperature; I actually delighted as my nipples stood at full attention and a small shiver caused my mighty musculature to ripple. I was afraid of getting caught. I doubted many people would be about on a Monday, but it only took one to call the security guards. Or worse, the cops. The most covered route to the cafeteria involved clinging to the walls all the way around the cultural centers, quickly diving into the bushes outside the library, and daisy-chaining my way across campus from building to building, crawling through bushes. I looked down at my exposed cock. I would need a machete to get through dense bushes. I would have to take the fastest route. For the first hundred yards or so, I could just stay close to the buildings and no one would be likely to see me. The absurdity of a nearly 300-pound muscle beast trying to do anything incognito was not lost on me. I couldn’t even press myself flat against the buildings: my upper back muscles and ass were too huge and my waist too small for me to lay flush. Making matters even worse was the bright, full night sky. Even if someone didn’t see me, they’d likely see my shadow. In the bright moonlight, I was such an edifice of muscle that I cast a mighty penumbra. Much to my giddy glee, even my shadow was monstrously hung. My shadow had a prodigious shadow cock dangling out of it. When I saw how huge my cock looked, even just as a shadow, the shadow started to thicken and enlarge. I quickly looked away; if I looked any longer, I would likely begin masturbating to my own shadow. When I got to the edge of the cultural centers, I peeked around the corner to the open space of the quad. At the far end were the library and the cart, and beyond that the cafeteria. There was no one out in the quad, so I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and began running through the quad. With the exertion of running, my pecs bounded up and down, my arms pistoned back and forth, the biceps bulging, fighting for space. My massive legs swung around each other speedily, colliding just enough to make the whisper kiss of skin-on-skin contact. The exhilaration of feeling my hulking body, naked and running through the open night air, filled me with a pure and simple erotic charge. I could be caught at any moment, and there was nowhere I could hide, and even if I put both hands in front of my cock, there was no way I could hide it, especially now that I had a semi. I was exposed in every sense of the word. My cock was soon at its full 16 inches. This was the biggest rush I’d ever had in my life, so why was I drawing it to a quick close? Halfway through the quad, I slowed down and began strolling casually. I even took a small detour to sit at my normal spot at the picnic table just to feel the cold wood press against my naked ass. As I sat there, I heard voices coming from around the library. Two men were walking through the quad, either arguing or punching each other in that friendly way straight guys do. I couldn’t tell which. There was no way to avoid this, so I just spread my legs open and put my towering erection front and center. When they got closer, I could tell they were both wearing coats with the same Greek insignia. Great. I was seconds from being discovered by two frat bros. The moment that thought flitted through my mind they saw me. They stopped dead in their tracks, and one pointed at me. The non-pointer shoved the offending arm down angrily, saying “Dude,” just loud enough to be heard. “Evening, gentlemen,” I said, tossing them a friendly wave. They took turns saying, “’Sup?” “Just enjoying the night air,” I answered. One of them visibly relaxed. “Dude, we thought you were a bear,” he said, so relieved he was practically chuckling. “Nah. I barely have any body hair. My boyfriend’s the bear.” The same frat bro said, “Cool. You do you.” The other frat bro wished me a goodnight and actually tipped his baseball cap at me. As they walked away, the first frat bro asked, “What was that about?” “It was the nice thing to do,” he said. “Yeah but did you see how big he was? His pecs were so big, you could use them for a bookshelf!” “His ass was so big you could use it for a bookshelf,” the other commented. “His arms weren’t guns. They were cannons. He could’ve pulverized us.” “He was being friendly, so I was being friendly.” “You didn’t have to tip your hat to him.” They walked away like that, bickering. Once they’d left the quad, I got up and walked the rest of the way to the cafeteria unobserved. I hoped that James had left some clue to indicate how I’d get in, or where, exactly, in the cafeteria he was, but there was no indication that anyone was in the cafeteria at all. Lacking a better idea, I pulled on the handle of the front door, and it opened. James was here alright; he was just making it difficult. Where in the cafeteria might he be hiding? Where was significant to him? He first saw me on the dance floor; I first saw him at… “Our table,” I said out loud. I strode through the cafeteria confidently until I got halfway to our usual table. There was James, lying on the table, completely nude. His cock was fully erect and slick with pre “What took you so long?” he asked. My cock was still erect, so I pointed it and said, “Everything about me is long.” James beckoned me to come join him. “You’re naked in public,” I reminded him. He furtively looked to the left and the right. “I don’t see anyone here.” “There are guards all over campus.” “No one’s going to catch us,” he said. “What makes you so confident?” I asked. “It’s a magical night; nothing’s going to stop it.” When I got to the table, James slowly lowered himself off it and sat in his usual seat, pulled out so there was room for me to position myself on his lap. “You’re not worried I’ll crush you?” I said. “I am a mighty man.” “I’ve been working out a lot,” he said, flexing his biceps. I don’t know if it was the moonlight or Charles’s regimen, but James looked massive, bigger than he ever had. I lowered myself on him and began pulling myself up and down, rubbing my hands up and down his hairy chest, occasionally pinching and tweaking his nipples. James’s hands were on my lower back, guiding me up and down. Deep inside me, I could feel his over 9-inch tool stretch me wider. Every time a ridge or contour hit my prostate, I gasped. James was growing red from the intensity and shined wet with sweat. I increased my speed, up and down faster, and James began breathing rapidly. I was on the edge myself. I leaned down to kiss him, hoping it would soften both our screams. That movement hit his cock at just the right angle, and James came hard and fast, his guttural M sounds filling the cafeteria. I closed my lips around him as my own orgasm burst out of my cock, ropes of cum spraying into his chest and stomach, dripping down to his legs and the floor. I pulled myself off him and crashed on my usual seat, James’s seed slowly trickling out of my ass and pooling on the chair. In between heavy breaths, I asked, “How are we going to clean up this mess?” “You didn’t bring my towel?” James joked.
  7. Chapter 54 After the ceremony, Luke and Dave left for their one-night honeymoon so quickly we barely had time to wish them congratulations. Luke threw me the key and told me to cover our tracks and lock up. I expected to do a fast once-over and then go back to our room and back to sleep, but James had other ideas in mind. “This is where we met too, you know,” he said. “Well, I hate to be technical,” I reminded him, “but this is where you met me. Because you were hiding from me,” I added a little barb to my tone, “I didn’t know you existed until you sat down next to us at lunch.” “Good point,” James said. After a pause, he added, “The wedding got me feeling passionately nostalgic. I say we fix my mistake. Relive when we first met, but do it the way it should have been.” James took me by the hand and led me back into the auditorium. The judge had long since gone, and the room was completely empty. James put one hand on my shoulder and the other around my waist. “Can I have this dance?” “But of course,” I responded, and as I barely finished the words, James stepped in closer for a soft, passionate kiss. I held him tight, and we danced like we should have that night freshman year. After a minute or two of dancing, I could have sworn I heard footsteps, and I stopped long enough to tell James as much. “I didn’t hear anything,” James said. “I did. It was probably a security guard. We’re not supposed to be in here. If they catch us, we could get in some real trouble.” “Are you telling me you’re a bad boy?” The hand that was at my waist slid over to my belt and zipper. He slowly undid them both one-handed, and then took a step back, and used both hands to lower my pants all the way. He then got down on his knees to lower my boxer briefs and smiled broadly when my cock bounced out. “I swear I heard someone,” I said. “Getting shy on me now, Chris?” he said mockingly, removing my shoes and socks so he could slip my pants and boxer briefs all the way off. “Oh! You want to make this is another one of your challenges?” I looked down at him, leaning forward to see him over the shelf of my pecs, and matched his smile with a devious one of my own. In a flash, my blazer was off, then my turtleneck. It got stuck a little around my pecs I was in such a rush to take it off, but when it cleared their immensity, my pecs heaved and bounded in their glorious freedom. I tossed them to the side, and James threw my pants in the same pile. Being completely naked in such a public place was always a thrill, but the fact that we might get in trouble was making it a little more exciting than normal, and my cock began stretching out. James rubbed his beard slowly along the shaft, stopping at the head to kiss it tenderly. The tingling sensations along my cock radiated through my body, and I began to moan as my cock stiffened under James’s touch. “Quiet, now,” James said. He then put the entire head in his mouth and began sucking as only James could. He took more of me into his mouth, then throat, and I watched as my giant cock distended his throat, pushing it out of shape, practically unhinging his jaw. The fact that I was so big that I could so alter James’s body teased me harder. A deep grunt of ecstasy escaped me. James pulled himself off my cock and looked up. “If you can’t do this quietly…” he whispered before I shoved him back onto my cock. He began to take me deeply down his throat, pulling me into him with all his might. Caught up in the bliss of the act, my left hand explored the mountain ranges of my body: the foothills of my abs, the twin Everests of my pecs, the Himalayas of my neck, traps, and shoulders. My right hand was shoved over my mouth, holding my mouth shut so I wouldn’t shout again. James had both his hands on the expansive roundness of my ass. Partly for ballast, partly for pleasure, he pressed his fingers into my flesh as far as it would go, but the steely rigidity barely surrendered a centimeter of give. James could tell I was getting close as my cockhead swelled in his throat, so he maneuvered three fingers from his right hand into my ass to press on my prostate. I erupted forcefully into him, biting into my finger so as to not scream out. As I caught my breath and James removed himself, standing slowly as he did, I could see that the mischief had not yet left his eyes. “I didn’t pass the challenge?” I asked, still breathing heavily. “The challenge isn’t over,” he said. He pointed to a drizzle of cum dripping from the corner of his mouth through his nest of a beard. “I need a towel to clean this mess up.” “I could lick it off,” I offered eagerly. “Ah, but if you were to get me a towel…” James started, trailing off. “I’d have to walk through the entire LGBT center naked to get to the men’s room.” “Precisely,” James said. “And who knows what you might encounter out there? Or who?” I could tell he had something up his sleeve, but since I didn't know exactly what, I decided to play along. I walked out of the auditorium, half-expecting someone to ambush me, but no one was in the hall. I walked slowly down the hall to the men’s room. My legs, thick tree trunks that they were, made a slithering hiss as I slowly made my way to the restroom, but I walked as slowly and quietly as I could. When I reached the door, I wanted to press my ear against the door to see if I could hear any surprises waiting for me inside, but my thick chest and preternaturally wide shoulders made the angle impossible. I turned the doorknob slowly, then opened the door quickly hoping to catch whoever was in the bathroom off guard. But no one was behind the door. I crept into the bathroom as stealthily as someone my size can, turning to squeeze through the too-narrow door jamb, not wanting to do any property damage. Once inside the bathroom, I looked around to see what trap James had lain for me. I couldn’t find it. There was a stack of paper towels on the sink, but I had to make sure it wasn’t booby-trapped. I walked over and tentatively prodded the stack of towels with my index finger. Nothing happened. I took a moment to admire my ghostly reflection in the mirror. In the pale light of night, I looked like a marble statue come to life. Only the occasional twitch of my still half-hard cock gave away that I was living, breathing human and not soulless stone. I grabbed the entire stack, and made my way back to the auditorium. When I got there, James was gone. I called out for him in a hoarse whisper, but there was no response. I then noticed that James had left a note in the middle of the auditorium floor. It said, “If you’re hungry for more, find me for dessert.” “The challenge continues,” I said to the empty room. I went to where my pile of clothes was, only to find it was missing. Not only that, everything was missing. My wallet, my keys, my phone. Everything. Even Luke's skeleton key. So that was his game.
  8. Chapter 53 When James and I got back to the room that night, neither Luke nor Dave was there. We didn’t know what to make of it, but Charles slapped me for skipping out on the schedule, so we went right to bed. I got up at my usual time for my late-night meal to find everyone else in the room, awake and already dressed. The light wasn’t on, but the moon shone so brightly I could clearly make out everyone. Dave was in a suit and tie, Luke in a pressed shirt, dress slacks, and a leather jacket. James was getting dressed: the nicest outfit Dave had bought him. “About time, buddy,” Luke said. He sounded more like his usual cheerful self. “Dave laid out your clothes. Get dressed, and be quick. We’ll meet you outside. Hurry. We’re going to be late.” In utter confusion, I got dressed—it was a blazer/turtleneck/slacks combo. Why were we all getting so dressed up? “Do you know what this is about?” James said. “I was hoping you did,” I answered. We got outside, and Luke and Dave practically sprinted across campus through the moonlight. We followed blindly, no idea where we were going. After a quick jog through the dark and empty campus, chilled by the December air, I got an idea of where we were headed. We seemed to be headed to the cultural centers—the block of buildings that contained the Black Student Union, the Muslim Student Union, etc. At the end of the row was LGBT center. When we stopped outside the LGBT center, I felt vindicated. “The guards lock all of the cultural centers after dark,” I said. “Are we going to just break in?” Luke pulled out a key and key ring, the same one I last saw on his birthday. “The head security guards have skeleton keys.” He unlocked the door, and we went inside. “Thank you, Al,” I said as we went in. “What are we doing here?” James asked, looking around the empty lobby. Even inside the building, the moonlight found ways to fill the room with pallid half-light. Dave’s phone buzzed. He looked quickly at the screen, shouted, “He’s here!” and ran off to the front door.” “Who’s here?” I asked. Dave came back a second later with a man I’d never seen. He was rather non-descript, dressed more for the weather than any of the four of us, and his face was red from the cold. “I’m more confused now,” James said. “This is Judge Martin Booker,” Dave answered. “He agreed to marry Luke and me tonight after we pled our case earlier at the courthouse.” He turned to face the judge. “The auditorium is at the end of the hall. We’ll be down in just a minute.” The judge walked off to the auditorium. “When I graduate in May,” Luke said, “we’ll do it up right. A proper wedding. My family, his family, all our friends.” “Mother footing the bill,” Dave added. “Then why do this tonight?” I asked. “Luke has somehow gotten it into his head that when I become famous, I’ll forget all about him. As if I could. So, I asked him to marry me. He thought I was bluffing, or putting on a show, or just trying to make an argument end. But I was entirely sincere. I want to marry this man. I got the marriage license and went to the judge. Every step of the way, he thought I was bluffing.” “Why here?” I asked. “An empty building at night?” James had stars in his eyes, practically glowing a pellucid violet. “This is where they first met.” A slight blush in his cheeks, Luke confessed, “Yeah. That was my idea.” They were completely serious. Luke continued, “I don’t want my parents to think I’m running off to Hollywood to follow my boyfriend. If I tell them about this before I graduate, they’ll object or try to talk me out of it. I want this to be the impulsive, romantic, beautiful thing it is. So, for now, we want it to be a secret.” “A legally binding secret,” Dave corrected. “Judge. License. Two witnesses.” “Let’s not keep the judge waiting,” Luke said. He held out the crook of his elbow for Dave to take. James did the same for me. Two by two, we walked down to the auditorium of the LGBT center to watch Luke and Dave get married.
  9. Chapter 52 I tried to put Lydia out of my mind by returning to my routine. Sleeping. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. I barely saw Dave or Luke at all that day Friday. Dave didn’t show up for chemistry. It threw my whole orbit out of whack. I left after only half an hour and went to the cart. Sure enough, there they were at our picnic table. Dave was holding Luke’s face and kissing it passionately, so intensely he didn’t see me coming. “You weren’t in class,” I said. Dave, startled, stopped kissing Luke and looked at me. “I talked to the professor, and thanks to all the help you gave me over the semester, if I get a zero on the final, I squeak by the class with a C-.” “So, you’re just abandoning me?” “I never should have been in that class to begin with. You’re the one who likes science.” “It feels weird to be all alone.” “Aw,” Dave said, “Chrissy misses me. Don’t worry; I got your back. If you need someone to help you study, I will, of course, be that study buddy.” “Really?” “I owe you. It’s the least I can do.” I sat down at the picnic table. I expected a casual, breezy conversation, but instead, a heavy silence fell. After an uncomfortable minute, I broke the tension by saying, “Why do I expect there’s another shoe to drop?” Luke elbowed Dave. “You gotta tell him, babe. He’ll find out soon enough.” Dave rolled his eyes and said, “You don’t have to make a big deal of it, but I’m not finishing my degree. I was on the phone with Lydia half of yesterday, and my screen test is December 18th. She told me it’s strictly a formality; the part is mine. I’m moving to LA. Even if the show doesn’t get picked up, this is my big chance. I’m going for it.” My stomach fell out of my torso. “My brain is telling me to congratulate you, but…” Luke interrupted me. “Stop at the congratulations, buddy. He knows what comes after the ‘but.’” “Are you okay with this?” I asked Luke. “It’s not my decision.” “Besides,” Dave said, “everything changes Monday.” “What happens Monday?” “Buddy, seriously? You are on the team. You get the team schedule emailed to you every Wednesday.” “And I delete it every Wednesday. Why, what was the email?” “We’re in the quarterfinals of the College Cup. We’re the higher seed.” “I’m sure that means something,” I said. “It means the game will be here, at our home stadium,” Luke said. “It means fate will not be denied,” Dave corrected. “The semi-finals and finals are televised events. We’re talking internet streaming, ESPN, the whole gamut. My Luke’s star will rise.” “I wonder if I could talk Charles into letting me see the game, since it is going to be at our home stadium.” “Kitty Cat?” Dave asked. “I don’t think he’d give you time off if you were playing in the game.” I groaned. “Let me know how it goes. I should probably get back to my schedule before Charles psychically intuits that I left class early.” “We promise we won’t tell,” Luke said. I found James and retreated back to my schedule. I didn’t want to even think about Dave leaving our group. We were supposed to have another semester together before graduation. And now… but I wasn’t letting myself think about that. Thankfully, Charles did most of my thinking for me these days. Eating. Homework. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. When we were about to go to sleep, James put on the t-shirt he wore as a pajama top, and the shirt split right down the middle. “I just keep getting bigger,” James said. “You don’t hear me complaining,” I replied. “I’m just glad Luke and Dave weren’t here to see that,” James said as he took of the torn shirt and began looking for a spare. “Where are they, anyway?” he asked I told him about breakfast. James was also shocked that Dave was dropping out, but it made sense to him too. “I guess they need this time to figure out how they’re going to negotiate this transition.” “I’m trying not to think about it,” I said, and James crawled into bed shirtless. He looked huge, so I was the big spoon for a change so I could feel up his hairy pecs while we cuddled. Sleeping. Saturday. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Dave surprised James with a whole bunch of clothes for him to grow into. “At the inhuman rate he’s growing, he won’t have anything to wear. That’s James’s worst nightmare. Doug and Henry thought it was a great idea.” I almost brought up Dave’s imminent departure, but James stopped me. Sleeping. Sunday. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. I had never done anything so monotonous as prepare for this bodybuilding show. But I was grateful to not have to think about December 18th. Monday. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. In the middle of my workout, I got a phone call from Dave. Before Charles could take my phone away from me, I answered it. “Chrissy, get to your room now. Luke needs you.” “But Charles…” I started. “Fuck Charles,” Dave said. I’d never heard him use that word before. I hung up and ran out of the gym, ignoring the cries of my unquestioned lord and master. When I got to the room, the door wouldn’t open right away: Luke had barricaded it shut. Before I could decide what to do, Dave came running around the corner. “There you are. He won’t let me in. I don’t know what to do. He flew into a rage and blocked the door.” “What happened?” I ask. “The team lost the game.” “That’s it?” “That’s it?” Dave repeated, a little insulted by my cavalier tone. “We’re out of the College Cup. It’s a big deal.” “But he’s lost games before. He’s never lost his temper.” “He’s never been this close to being an NCAA champ. We were the Cinderella story of the college soccer world, and the carriage just turned back into a pumpkin.” I knocked on the door. “Hey, buddy,” I said in as non-threatening a voice as possible. “Can I come in?” “Is Dave out there?” Luke asked. His voice was a low and raspy, like a lion. I shooed Dave away. He put his hands up in a surrender posture and walked away. “Not anymore,” I said. “Good,” Luke growled. “You know,” I reminded him, “I could easily break this door down. But I’m not going to. I’d rather you let me in.” I heard the bedframe dragged across the floor, and then the door opened. Luke was facing away from me. His head was hunched down, his shoulders bunched. He was still in his uniform. His shoulders were heaving up and down. I’d never seen Luke like this. Never, not even in middle school. I closed the door behind me and put the bedframe back. “Dave told me about the game,” I started. “Don’t blow your stack again,” I added. Luke spun around, and I could see that he wasn’t angry. He had been crying. Hard. His eyes were bright red, and his whole face was swollen. “I don’t care about the game,” Luke said. “Then why are you crying?” I asked. “Because Dave’s gonna leave me.” Luke threw himself at me and began sobbing uncontrollably. I stood there silently, holding him until he was coherent enough to talk. Once he was, I asked him to explain. “Soccer’s great and all, I love my teammates, but it was always just a way to pay for school. By the time all of my brothers had gone to college, there was no money left for me. I’m only on the team because I got a scholarship. I never thought I’d go pro. I never wanted to go pro. That was Dave’s dream. Not mine. I’d always thought I’d be a coach or a PE teacher. My degree is in education.” “Okay. You never wanted to go pro. Then why do you care that you lost? And what does this have to do with Dave?” “Dave’s going to Hollywood.” “They have coaches and gym teachers in LA,” I reminded him. “But by the time I graduate, he’ll be this big TV star, and he could have any man he wants, and he won’t want to be with some lowly PE teacher. You hear how Dave brags about his boyfriend the athlete. How the Galaxy are going to snap me up. How he can’t have just anyone as arm candy.” “I don’t think you’re giving your Dave enough credit,” I said honestly. “He’s probably just as scared about this move to LA as you are.” “Not Dave. Half his body weight is confidence.” “I assure you he gets scared too. His confidence is his armor. Underneath, he’s human, just like you and me.” “You think?” Luke asked. I leaned to the door and shouted through it. “Am I right, Dave?” “Of course, you’re right,” he shouted through the door. Luke went pale. “What?” I said. “Listening at the door is Dave’s signature move. He heard this whole conversation.” Luke started to tear up and laugh at the same time. “Can I come in?” he asked. Luke nodded, so I moved the bedframe and let Dave in. I closed the door behind me as I let the two talk it all out.
  10. Chapter 51 Sunday. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. Monday. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. Tuesday. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. The days became a solid, homogenous mass. Charles had infected my brain. I heard his voice encouraging me to do just one more rep, do just a little more weight, try just a little bit harder. I was even beginning to have nightmares about cutesy-talking murderers who made me do deadlifts until I literally died. But it was paying off. I’d only been under Charles’s rule for ten days, and I was feeling more solid, hard, and strong. I was feeling overall more. The definition around my abs was the most drastic change. I thought my waist was small before the training, and now I was back down to having a waist as small as James. I had to use the next hole down on my belt. The veins on my arms and legs were in full relief even when I was relaxed. I swear my cock even looked stiffer and more vascular. I was looking intense. James was having the opposite problem. He was getting bigger. The first time he outgrew a shirt, we were walking down the stairs on our way to philosophy, and his armpits just burst when he reached to grab the door out of our dorm. He blushed a bright crimson and ran back upstairs. He skipped philosophy that day. As James grew bigger, I encouraged him by feeling up his swollen arms whenever Charles wasn’t looking, by rubbing his thickening legs under the desk whenever we sat next to each other in class, by caressing his expanding chest whenever had ten seconds alone. He now could only fit into about half of his clothes, and most of those were my hand-me-downs. James being bigger and thicker drove me wild. Every time we fucked, I could swear his shoulders were wider or his chest was sticking out further or his arms were bigger. He was slowly but surely inflating with muscle. Charles had tapped into James’s full growing potential, and I was grateful, even if Charles did work me so hard I felt like I was in a death-like stupor when I crawled into bed at night. When I stumbled into my room on Wednesday evening, freshly showered and ready to go to sleep, I found Luke dressed in a dress shirt and pants that Dave had originally bought for me. He still wore his sunglasses, but he looked sharp. “What’s with the get-up?” I asked. “Did you forget, buddy?” I looked at my phone and pulled up Charles’s Google doc. “Dave’s play is tonight.” “He got us tickets.” It had been leg day. I looked down, and my thighs looked incredibly swollen. “Will I fit?” I asked. “If the theater chairs are as narrow as…” Luke interrupted me. “Dave made sure you’d fit. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but he got you an aisle seat so you can stretch out. Now, get dressed. I am under strict orders to have you dressed to the nines.” James stumbled into the room behind me. He had to stop at his room to get a change of clothes; the seat of his pants had given out on the stairs. He looked just as ready for bed as I felt. When he saw Luke, he said, “What’s with the get-up?” After some wrangling, Luke got us into our clothes and corralled us to the theater. A whole section had been cordoned off just for us in the front row. “Swanky,” I said, lifting the placard from my seat that read “Reserved: VIP.” Then I noticed there were four chairs, not three. “Who is the…” James started when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. A sharp-dressed woman with a severe bob who looked more like she belonged on the cover of Rolling Stone than a college play took the fourth seat. I was about to ask her who she was when the lights in the theater began to flicker and the show began. I squeezed into my seat. It was indeed a tight fit, and my nuts were crushed, but I could just fit. I didn’t think I’d be able to focus on anything but the pain shooting through my balls the whole play. Then the play started. I was transfixed. I knew Dave could act, but Dave could act. I was blown away. He didn’t seem anything like himself in real life. Hell, at one point, he kissed a woman, and I bought it. At another point, he started a fistfight, and I thought he would win hands down. Just before intermission, he came out in sweatpants and a sweat-stained t-shirt, and it seemed perfectly normal. During intermission, I didn’t get up out of fear of not being able to sit back down, but Luke jumped up and ran out of the auditorium as soon as the curtain closed. I looked over and saw that he had wrung his program into a tiny little ball. Why was Luke nervous? Dave was the one onstage. “This play is sublime,” James said. “I concur,” I said. Soon, the lights flashed, and the second act began. After the curtain opened, Luke came back in carrying a plastic bag. Why was he acting so odd tonight? The second act was so enthralling it felt like only twelve seconds passed. When the play ended, the audience burst into a roar of applause. When Dave came out for his curtain call, I stood up so quickly that I took the arms of my chair with me. I did not care. Dave got a standing ovation. He deserved it. He took a second bow, and Luke pulled a bouquet of roses out of the plastic bag and threw it on the stage. Dave picked up the roses and bowed again. After the applause finally died down and the audience began milling around the theater, Luke made a beeline backstage, followed by James and me. When we got there, we found a swarming throng of people blocking our way to Dave, so Luke turned to me and said, “Clear a path, buddy.” “Make way for the star’s boyfriend,” I bellowed in my deepest voice. Like that, the crowd parted. Luke raced to Dave. “You were amazing, babe,” he said and began kissing Dave on the cheek and forehead. “Stop it, I’m all sweaty and covered in make-up,” Dave said. “Can’t stop. Won’t stop,” Luke said in between kisses. Dave eventually pushed Luke away, and James and I stepped in. “You were awesome, Dave.” “Thanks,” Dave said with a level of humility and sincerity I didn’t know he had. “Is this a good time?” the woman who’d taken the fourth VIP seat said as she came forward. “I’m Lydia Garrison. We talked on the phone.” “Right,” Dave said. “Nice to meet you in person.” “Walk with me,” she said. She put her arm around Dave’s shoulder and started to walk away, when she saw me. “You too, Chris. Walk with us.” “This is Dave’s night,” I said. “Modesty will get you nowhere,” she said. “Dave?” I asked. “She wanted to see me first,” Dave said. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re my plus one.” “Charming,” Lydia said. I joined them, and we walked outside to the parking lot where Lydia’s car was. I don’t know much about cars, but hers looked like it cost more than the college itself. Once we reached her car, she turned to us and said, “Let me be frank, gentlemen. I am not often impressed by unsolicited submissions from college theater majors.” “I’m a chemistry major,” I corrected. “Immaterial. Your tape was strong. For both of you.” She hesitated and said, “I was on the fence until I came here tonight. You,” she looked at Dave, “you’ve got star potential. You elevated that garden variety snooze into something worth seeing. That’s on you. And you,” she looked at me. “What about me?” I asked. “Your physique is doing all your speaking for you. I’ve seen your tape. Your social media presence. To go from that to this in two months is simply impressive. And in your tape, you kept up with him. Having seen him act live, I now know that’s no small feat. I want to sign you both.” “Really?” Dave asked, shivering with excitement. “You don’t have to make the decision right now. Pilot season’s January, so I don’t need an answer ‘til New Year’s. I’ve got a drama you were born to star in,” she said to Dave, “and an ensemble sitcom you might be good for. As for Hercules,” she said to me, “I’m thinking superhero or cop show. There’s always one or two in the works. I’ll look. Here’s my card,” she produced two, and handed one to each of us. “Now you go enjoy your night.” With that, she got in her car and drove away. “I’m a chemistry major,” I said. “A chemistry major who just got Lydia Garrison to offer him a TV pilot!” Dave began running in circles. While I stood there in stunned silence, Luke came running up to grab Dave. “Congratulations, babe! I knew you could do it.” As soon as Luke gave Dave space to breathe, Dave crowed, “I told you this would happen, didn’t I? My plan is coming to fruition.” “Dare I ask?” I said. “We are going to take the world by storm. I’m practically already a TV star, and Luke’s team made it into the College Cup. Once he’s an NCAA champ, he’ll go pro. The Galaxy are always looking for good players.” “And the Galaxy are?” I asked. “LA’s soccer team. Keep up.” Dave was so frenetic he was practically blurring. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, babe,” Luke said. “We haven’t won yet. And even if we do win the Cup, there’s no guaranteeing the Galaxy sign me.” “Pish posh,” Dave said. “It’s fate.” Dave held out his arms, cuing Luke to pick him up. “Stop fighting fate, Chrissy.” Luke walked off, carrying Dave in his arms. “I wasn’t even in the play,” I said. There was no one in the parking lot to hear me.
  11. Chapter 50 We had to leave Saturday afternoon, per Charles’s commandments, but Doug and Henry were determined to squeeze every last drop of fun out of our visit with their son. However, since James’s schedule was largely dictated by my training schedule, the last chunk of time before we left was booked with a jog. Not to be deprived of their visit, it ended up with all four of us going on a family jog. Henry said that the traffic was always practically non-existent on Saturdays, so we ran down the middle of the street, the four of us abreast. As we jogged through the streets that I still couldn’t tell apart, people began shouting out to us. Most of them shouted some variation of “Jimmy! You left too early last night!” or “Glad to see you, Jimmy!” After the fifth person said something along those lines, Doug spoke. “Okay. What happened last night? ‘Cause, I could have sworn my son was a pariah in high school.” “He was,” James said. Then, after a small half-smile, he added, “In high school.” “You actually had fun last night?” Doug said. “Yeah.” Henry explained. “Your father thought your friends dragged you to the party against your will. I assured him that you were assertive enough to tell them no if you didn’t want to go.” “Oh no,” I said. “We totally drag him to stuff all the time.” “All the time,” James echoed. “But only stuff we know he’ll enjoy when he gets there.” “Last night, I wanted to go.” “I actually tried to talk him out of it because I thought the invitation was bogus.” “Good to hear,” Henry said. “So, you were both right,” I said to his dads. “Ever the peacekeeper, boyfriend Chris,” Doug said. Soon after, Spenser saw us jogging and joined for a bit. “Hey, Jimmy. Chris. Jimmy’s dads.” “Spenser,” Henry said cordially. “You think you can make it to the Barracks again tonight?” Spenser asked. “Can’t. We’re heading back to campus today.” “Too bad. There’s a bunch of people going to be there tonight who weren’t there when you rang the bell.” James laughed. “And?” “The place is going to be swarming with single ladies if you two come again.” “Ah,” James said. “So that’s your angle.” Spenser smiled and said, “This time Chris could ring the bell.” James stopped running. “Or not,” Spenser said. Stunned into silence, James caught back up to us. “Later, Jimmy. Sorry to freak you out.” With that Spenser, left our group and jogged back to his house. “Ring the bell?” Henry asked. Doug was beaming from ear to ear. “I know what that means. I’m a cool dad.” After a pause, he added, “And I’m proud.” “I’m not a cool dad,” Henry said. “Do I want to know?” “Probably not, hon,” Doug said. A few blocks later, some random woman shouted out: “Hey! Jimmy’s boyfriend!” And then she made a whole bunch of screams sounding vaguely like “Owh! Owh! Owh!” As we got closer to her, she said, “You can ring my bell anytime.” I looked at her and called, “Girl, please.” That elicited a fit of laughter. “I think I know what ringing a bell is,” Henry said. A few houses later, Lacey came running out of her house, holding my pants. “Hey Chris! You want your pants back?” “Throw ‘em to me!” I called. She threw them, and I completed the rest of the run with my white dress pants draped around my shoulders. “Okay,” Henry said. “Now I definitely know what ringing a bell is. Jimmy, how could you do that in public?” Doug interceded on his son’s behalf. “Boyfriend Chris did. Jimmy just rang the bell.” “I’m lost again,” Henry said. After a pause, he added, “And I think I’d prefer to stay there.” By the time we got back to the house, Dave and Luke had packed the car and were waiting for us to go. Doug and Henry gave us all our goodbye hugs, and even though Doug was sweaty from the jog, Dave went in for an extra-long hug. “I put our numbers in your phone,” Henry said when he hugged Dave. “Give us a call if you need a father figure.” “Luke,” Doug said, patting Luke on the back mid-hug. “Later, man,” Luke said, let go of the hug, and got into the car. “Man,” Doug repeated. “I love it.” When Henry hugged me goodbye, he said, “I understand if you two have to do Christmas with your parents. That’s fine. We throw better New Year’s parties anyways.” As we drove away, Henry and Doug waved at us from the driveway. Once we pulled away, I turned to James and said, “I think Henry invited me over for New Year’s.” Dave scoffed. “I spent almost all of yesterday with Henry. He’s picking out china patterns.” “And Doug asked me if you two want kids,” Luke added. “They know we’ve been dating for two months, right?” I asked. “I don’t care,” James said. I thought about it and said, “I really don’t either.”
  12. Chapter 49 Thanksgiving dinner was delicious; James had no trouble eating his share. And the lecture afterward wasn’t half as boring as James made it sound. Henry and Doug pretended to feel excluded that we were going to a party (Doug might not have been pretending), but they also looked happy that their son got invited to a party. Because we were going to a party that night, James and I worked extra hard at sticking to the Charles-approved schedule, which meant we spent most of Friday alone in the shed. Henry took Dave to his art gallery to show him around; Luke and Doug decided to spend another day playing football in the yard. Before they started, Doug popped into the shed, holding his football. “Does it make you jealous to see me playing ball with your friend?” Doug asked James. “Not even a little,” James answered. “Good, because I love your Uncle Henry, but sometimes I really need someone to run around and act like an idiot with.” “That is not Uncle Henry’s speed,” James said. “No, it is not,” Doug said with a slight shake of his head. “Hey, man, are we playing or not?” Luke shouted. “He calls me ‘man.’ I like it.” “He calls his boyfriend ‘babe’ and me ‘buddy,’” I added. “Oh, that’s neat! Everyone gets a nickname. What does he call you, Jimmy?” “James,” James said flatly. Doug looked a little surprised by that, but then Luke came into the shed. “C’mon, man!” “See you guys later,” Doug said and went back to the yard. James was often quiet, but today he was extra quiet. It made our workouts serene, but I could tell there was something below the surface. “We don’t have to go to the party,” I reminded. “Oh, we do,” James said. “I have to know if the invitation was sincere.” At about 9 PM, a time at which James and I were normally already fast asleep, the four of us were in our best outfits, hand-picked by Dave, and we started the walk to the Barracks. James expressed concerns. “The Barracks aren’t the sort of place you wear a tie to,” he cautioned. “I want to look my best, and I look damn fine in this shirt and tie,” Dave said. “Hell yeah,” Luke echoed. “Besides, royal blue is my power color,” Dave added. Dave had wanted his Luke similarly dressed to the nines, but Luke refused in case, as he put it, he had to “throw down.” So, they compromised. Luke still had on his sunglasses, but Dave had coaxed him into a polo and khakis. By this point, I trusted Dave implicitly, so when he gave me a long-sleeved light-blue Oxford and white dress pants, I just put them on without blinking. Dave harangued James into a turtleneck and a dark pair of jeans, but James said he felt overdressed for the Barracks. “We are going to be the best dressed men there,” Dave said. The Barracks looked like a factory that survived a bombing. There were literally pieces of the ceiling and walls missing, and as we approached the building, a chunk fell off and crashed to the ground. The party was already in full swing. We walked into the crumbling building, and a cheer went up. Logan came over to the door to greet us, followed in tow by a woman half his height. “Jimmy! You made it!” He punched James affectionately on the shoulder and turned to us. “As the unofficial host of this soiree, I welcome you. I’m Logan.” He pointed at me, saying, “You’re Chris.” He then pointed at Dave and Luke. “You two?” Dave stepped forward, “I’m Dave, this is Luke. This is a charming ramshackle dive.” “Thanks!” Logan said. “This is my girl Lacey.” “Hi,” she said. “You remember her, right Jimmy?” James nodded. Lacey turned to Logan and said, “You’re right. Jimmy looks so much better with a beard.” “I know, right?” Logan said. “Tell me about it,” I added. A flock of unaccompanied women swarmed around us. “You’re Jimmy’s boyfriend, right?” one of them asked me. “Yes,” I said. Commiserating with her friends, she said, “Of course this hunk of gorgeous is gay.” She turned to Luke. “How about you, cutie?” “Gayer,” Luke said. She turned to Dave. “Gayest,” he said. Logan laughed, choking on his beer. “Leave them alone, ladies” Logan said. “They haven’t even gotten through the door.” One the flock of women had scattered away, Logan said, “It’s too bad none of you are into women. They outnumber us two to one at this party. Come in. Grab a drink. Dance. Mingle. Have fun!” I looked around the party. We were beyond overdressed. We might as well have worn tuxes to a pool party. Everyone else was dressed in t-shirts, flannels, sweaters, and jeans. Luke grabbed Dave by the tie and led him onto the dance floor. “Sir, yes, sir,” Dave said. James and I went over to the side to grab a drink and relax on the windowsill. “Seems it was a genuine invitation,” I said. “Seems it was,” James echoed. He actually sounded disappointed. I had to cheer him up. “Pretend we’re back in high school. You finally got invited to the cool kid club, and the hunkiest boy at the school is there with you. What do you do?” “I’m in high school? I run home. That’s too much pressure.” “Okay, fair enough. So what does suave, sophisticated 22-year-old James wish he’d had the guts to do at a high school party? This is your world. I’m down for anything. Even petty vengeance if that’s what you need.” “Thanks for the offer, but vengeance isn’t really my scene.” “Duly noted,” I said. “What would make tonight perfect for you?” “Honestly?” “Honestly.” “I just want to be completely gay. In-their-face gay.” “PDA? I’ve never seen this side of you before. I like it.” “More than just PDA.” “Oh, yes, please, James.” This was invigorating. “Tell me your dark fantasy.” “I’ve never been to one of these parties before, but I’ve heard rumors. See that teacher’s desk over there?” He pointed to an old-fashioned teacher’s desk bolted to the floor. “I’ve heard that if a guy climbs up to the bell and rings it,” he pointed to the dismissal bell above the door, “he gets to pick a brave lady to stand on that teacher’s desk over there and strip naked.” “Do you want to be the climber or the lady?” I asked. “Climber,” James said. “Obviously climber.” “You know I’m down for public nudity. Do I stop at my underwear or unleash the Kraken?” “Lady’s choice,” James said. “But let’s dance a little bit first. I need to build up my nerve.” I took off my socks and shoes and hid them on a ledge outside the window. “Why’d you do that?” James asked. “This way you don’t have to give me the heads up when you climb. No one wants to see a stripper take off his shoes. A lady prepares.” I swigged the rest of my beer, and we joined Dave and Luke on the dance floor. James and I had to have been dancing for a half hour when I realized that there were now twice as many people here than when we arrived. Even with the open windows and pieces of the roof missing, the room was getting hot and sweaty, so James sent me to fetch him a water. When I came back to the dance floor, I couldn’t find him in the throng of people. I was about to ask Dave where James had gone, when, over the crowd and music, I heard a bell ring loudly. Someone cut the music, and all eyes turned to James. He had scaled the wall and rung the bell. “Things are about to get interesting,” Logan said, walking over to James. “So, Jimmy, what lovely lady would you like to do a show for us?” James pointed squarely at my head, and I feigned surprise. “It’s a first, people of the Barracks. The climber has selected a dashing gentleman to do the stripping.” All the women in the Barracks screamed as one. “It’s about time,” Lacey said, escorting me to the desk. “Get on up, honey,” she said encouragingly. Logan came over and announced. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Barracks, I give you Chris!” The music started, some cheesy ‘80s song a stripper might have danced to in a soft-core porn. Thankfully, it’s the same kind of shlock Vanessa and Charles had been using at rehearsal. I began rocking my hips and stepping back and forth. As the beat picked up, I planted my left foot and circled around, shaking my ass in time to the rhythm. This elicited cheers from the women, so I shook it a little harder, and slapped my ass with both hands. I finished turning around so I could face my audience again. Once I was facing fully forward, I pulled out the tails of my shirt, giving them a flash of my abs. I then undid the top two buttons, and, right on a downbeat, pulled it open to give a flash of my pecs. The crowd was eating it up; even some of the men started cheering. I started swaying back and forth, getting lower and lower to the desk, like I was doing a squat, until my gargantuan ass grazed the metal. Then, I swayed all the way back up. It was a move Charles taught me day one. When the song hit the first chorus, I began flexing one bicep, then the other, back and forth, watching them rise up, almost to my ear, back and forth, swelling in masculine beauty. At the end of the chorus, I flexed into a most muscular, my body swelling into a mountain range of muscles. The crowd lost its mind. And I hadn’t taken anything off yet. As the second verse started, I held the two open sides of my shirt, one side in each hand, and then pulled hard, tearing open the shirt and sending my buttons flying everywhere. I held the left side to my body and flashed them the right side, flexing my pec, swollen and pumped from that day’s work out, so it undulated to the rhythm. Then, I held the right side close to my body and flexed the left. The crowd ate it up, so I whipped my shirt off and spun it over my head like a lasso. I spotted Luke in the audience, and threw the shirt at his face. He caught it, and the crowd roared. I flexed my 8-pack, bringing the bricks of my torso into full relief, up and down in a body roll to show off my minuscule waist. One woman in the front row started fanning herself. The second chorus was starting, so I spun around and flexed my back muscles. I spread my lats to show them how wide my back was in comparison to my tiny waist. Then I flexed my ass up and down, each cheek larger than a lesser man’s head. The fabric of my pants could barely contain me. Still with my back to the audience, I undid my belt and threw it out the open window. I unzipped and bent over as I pulled them down to the cold metal of the desk. Bending over like that caused my ass to swell to its true magnificence. The crowd applauded louder, one woman even screaming, “Oh my god!” like she was cheering for the Beatles. I kicked my pants to the floor, and on the bridge of the song, I spun back around. I was now only wearing my boxer briefs. When the crowd got a face-full of my giant bulge, each nut as large as my fist, the flesh of my still-flaccid cock a thick cord of flesh, easily double the size of a normal erection. The head strained through the fabric. A collective, low-pitched, “Whoa!” settled over the audience. During the last chorus, I hooked my right thumb into the band of my briefs, pulling it down past my Adonis belt. I was testing if the audience wanted to see everything. I’d pull it down a little, then pull it back up. Two or three times I teased them until Lacey screamed, “Take them off!” Soon the whole crowd was chanting those three magic words over and over. Not one to disappoint a crowd, I grabbed the band of my briefs with both hands, whipped them down, and threw the briefs high into the air. There I stood, in front of everyone, completely naked, my cock, slowly lengthening, slightly plumping from the attention. My balls swayed from my exertions. And the crowd burst into a peal of screams like I have never heard. The song came to an end, and I bowed. Logan came running up to the desk and said, “Let’s hear it for Chris!” At some point, James had come up to the righthand side of the desk, so I pulled him up onto the desk and pressed my naked body against his fully-clothed body. I spun him in front of me, tilted him into a dip, and kissed him deeply and passionately. The crowd screamed even louder. “Let’s hear it for Chris and Jimmy!” Logan corrected, and the crowd applauded again. James and I stepped down from the desk, and I asked him, “Was it everything you wanted.” James was blushing and having trouble breathing, but he managed to say, “And then some.” Dave and Luke came up to us. “That rocked, buddy!” he handed me back my shirt. “I had to grab these from a very angry woman with sharp nails,” Dave said, handing me back my boxer briefs. “You are such a showoff.” From Dave, that was a compliment, not a criticism. “And that was with only one week of dance lessons,” I said. “You’re welcome,” Dave replied. I put on my boxers and put the shirt on as best I could. My pecs and abs still peeked through as there were no buttons to hold it together. “Where did my pants end up?” I asked. Lacey squeezed through the crowd and showed me my pants. “I’ll give them back to you,” she said. “At the end of the party. I want you dressed like this for the rest of the party.” James showed me the time on his phone. It was ten minutes until our allotted time ended. “I guess I’m walking home without them,” I told her. “James and I have to go.” “So soon?” Logan asked. “People are going to talk about that for years.” “Let them,” James said. “I get to go home with the real thing.”
  13. Chapter 48 The next morning, James and I started our workout in the shed while Henry and Dave started to make the big Thanksgiving meal. The whole time, they debated loudly whether theater could be both art and entertainment. That left Luke and Doug to bond, and bond hard they did. Through the window of the shed, James and I could occasionally see one of them run past. “Looks like Luke got to play football after all,” I commented between sets. “Dad always wanted me to play catch. He’s having the time of his life,” James added. Henry kindly delivered us our mid-morning meal on a tray. Once we had our plates, Henry put down the tray and pulled something out of his pocket. “What’s this?” he said in a mock questioning tone. “It’s a phone!” he said, answering his own question. “I bet it has your mother’s number programmed into it,” Henry said. “I don’t know,” I started. “I won’t nag you, but Luke’s already called his family twice, and Dave even called his mother.” “Dave?” “Of course,” Henry said. “That woman sounds lonely. The call lasted all of three minutes, but I’m sure it brightened her day.” Henry had gotten Dave to call home? I was hopeless to stop him. “I surrender,” I said and called my mother. I expected the call to be a painful string of questions, but the conversation was actually pleasant. When I told Mom I’d become a bodybuilder, she was completely unfazed. Apparently, her Uncle Rudolf was a bodybuilder too, and she always thought I took after him, especially when I came out. If I was anything like Great Uncle Rudy, she joked, I’d be 200 pounds by Christmas break. I laughed politely. Then she asked me how my studies were going and put Dad on the phone. He approved of the whole situation. Frankly, he was so happy I had a steady boyfriend that we focused almost exclusively on that. He was a little hurt that they hadn’t met James yet, but he was thrilled our dinner came with a history lecture. He thought about doing something similar the next year, and told me he missed me. “Thank you for talking me into that,” I told Henry. “You’re welcome,” Henry said. Before he left, James stepped on the treadmill to start his cardio, but the machine wouldn’t start. “That contraption hasn’t worked in years,” Henry said. “I’ve been after your father to get rid of it.” “Dad said he uses it all the time,” James responded. Luke and Doug crashed into the window of the shed. It shook, but did not shatter. “Your father has a unique view of reality,” Henry corrected. “Just go for a jog. It’s a low-tech solution, but you’ll still stick to your schedule. Plus, the weather’s nice and cool.” We agreed, and I let James lead the way. We ran through the streets and dead ends of the planned community. As soon as the blue house was out of sight, I immediately got lost because all the houses looked the same, and streets like Willow Glen intersected with streets like Glen Road and Willow Avenue. I had to trust that James knew where he was. About ten minutes into the jog, a car pulled over to the side of the road, and the window rolled down. “Jimmy? Is that you?” A group of four men, all about out age, poured out of the car. They were dressed like they were on their way to a tailgate party or a bonfire. When they got to the sidewalk, they blocked out path. I jogged in place; James stopped dead. “Hey, guys,” James managed. His voice was so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him. “Little Jimmy’s been working out,” the tallest of the four said. “Hey, Spencer,” James said. “Is this your trainer?” the one who’d called out the car window asked. “No, Logan.” “He’s big enough to be,” Logan continued. “How do you know Jimmy boy?” the one who’d been driving asked. “Should I tell them?” I asked James. “Tell us what?” Spenser asked. James squared his shoulders and looked Spenser dead in the eye. “Chris is my boyfriend.” After a moment, he added, “I’m gay.” The group said nothing; they looked genuinely surprised. “Like your father?” the driver asked. “Yes, Terrence. Like my fathers. Plural. I have two dads.” Terrence put out his hand for me to shake it. “Nice to meet you, Chris.” The group were generally kind and nice. James was beyond confused. “You guys gave me hell in middle school and high school for having gay dads.” “We were bigoted little shitheads in high school,” Logan said. “It’s why we stopped when we saw you,” Terrence said. “We wanted to say sorry.” This came from Spenser. “Those were our parents’ opinions, and we repeated them without thought. College changed us.” “Glad to hear it,” I said. “James did not talk well about his high school experience.” “James?” Spenser said. “Do you prefer James to Jimmy?” “Chris gets to call me James,” James clarified. “You keep calling me Jimmy.” “Okay. Jimmy it is.” This came from the fourth one, the one whose name I didn’t know yet. “The four of us are home for the break, and rather than hang out with our folks all weekend, we’re throwing a party tomorrow night at the Barracks. Come if you want. Chris is totally invited too.” “I don’t know, Neil,” James said. “Two other friends of mine from school are here too.” “Bring them!” Neil said. “The more the merrier.” Terrence got back into the driver’s seat. “We’re buying supplies right now. We’ll pick up some extra beers just in case your crew decides to come.” The rest of the group got back into the car, and Logan, leaning out of the window again, said, “We hope you come. Happy Thanksgiving.” We continued our jog in silence for a bit, then James said “Do you trust them?” “I just met them.” “But did they sound sincere?” “As sincere as someone can sound in five minutes.” “Terrence and Neil would routinely break into my locker and steal my textbooks. Logan once pulled down my pants in the bathroom and then pushed me out into the hallway. Spenser spent a week telling everyone not to come to my 13th birthday party because my dads are gay. They were beyond shitheads.” “It’s no wonder you didn’t come out in high school.” “That’s an understatement.” “So, we don’t go to the party. We have our own party.” James grew silent. “You want to go, don’t you?” I asked. “I just got invited by the cool kids to the Barracks.” “What are the Barracks?” “There used to be a high school behind Willow Crescent, but it got overcrowded. They tried to fix the problem by building a second, smaller building to hold some extra classrooms. When they finally demolished the old high school, they never demolished the second building. It’s been abandoned for about 15 years. The cool kids hang out there.” “That’s what cool kids do in this town?” “It’s a suburb. If you didn’t have a car, the coolest place in walking distance was the Barracks.” “You want to go to the party, we go.” “You sure?” “Your dads won’t mind. Dave and Luke are probably down for it.” “What if the invitation was a trap?” “Like this is some ’90s high school movie, and they’re only inviting you on a dare or something?” “Or something more sinister. Like Carrie.” “With Dave, Luke, and me there, they won’t do anything stupid.” James smiled. “With you there, they won’t do anything stupid.” We got back to James’s house, and Dave and Luke were getting ready for the big meal. We relayed the invitation. “Is there room in Charles’s precious schedule for a party?” Dave asked. “On Friday night,” I pointed out, “there’s a section labeled, ‘What Charles doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’ I think he wanted us to blow off some steam.” “I’m down,” Luke said. “I don’t trust these fuckers an inch, but if you’re going, I’m going as back up.” “I’m morbidly fascinated,” Dave said. “Then it’s settled,” I said.
  14. Chapter 47 At midnight, I woke up to have one of my seven meals of the day. James had had the foresight to bring his up to the bedroom, so he had already eaten and crawled back under the covers. I had to go downstairs to the kitchen. I was only in my boxer briefs and socks—James’s childhood bedroom was too chilly to go barefoot—but I didn’t expect to see anyone. Of course, I bumped right into Dave. He was wearing one of Luke’s shirts and his tight-fitting briefs. The shirt, a bit too big for Dave, tilted to one side, and a tuft of chest hair peeked through the V-neck. “What are you doing up?” Dave asked, equally surprised. “I came down for my midnight meal,” I said. “Charles’s orders. You?” Dave held up a copy of the script for his play. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d run lines. Care for some company?” “Sure,” I said as I pulled the Tupperware out of the fridge. We both sat at the kitchen table, and I began to eat. “How was shopping?” “Shopping?” Dave looked confused. “Oh, we didn’t go shopping.” “I thought I heard your car door close.” “You did. I forgot my script in the car, and Luke ran out to get it for me.” “Oh. But we didn’t see you guys the rest of the night,” I said. “Have I stumbled in on a secret meeting?” Doug said as he walked into the room. He was completely shirtless but had on a pair of pajama bottoms. Even shirtless, Doug looked surprisingly like a less muscular version of his son. “Just having my midnight meal,” I said. “Couldn’t sleep,” Dave added. Doug grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it in the sink. “Mind if I join you boys?” “Not at all,” Dave said, pulling out a chair. “Dave was just about to tell me what he and Luke did for the rest of the evening.” “I don’t know if I should anymore,” Dave said. “Ah,” Doug said. “So, you had sex.” “Guilty,” Dave replied, putting a hand up like he was under oath. “You can share if you want to,” Doug said honestly. “It’d make me feel like a teenager again to hear about your youthful exploits. I promise I’ll never tell Jimmy.” “I can’t tell a story without painting a word picture,” Dave insisted. “It’s the actor in me.” “Be as vivid as you want. I hear stories like this all day. You’re not going to surprise me.” The light behind Dave’s flickered. “You promise too, Chrissy? Never tell James or Luke.” I nodded. Dave told the whole story in hushed tones. “Henry had just left the room, and Luke was out in the car looking for my script. So, I decided to start getting ready for bed. I was looking for a place to plug in my phone, when I noticed that the bed in the guest room had four bedposts, unlike the ones at school. Like any well-traveled gentlemen, I brought a tie for every day of travel and one more in case of stains, so I had four silk ties with me. “Before Luke could get back to the room, I tied each of my feet to a bedpost. I managed to tie my left hand to the bedpost, but before I could do the right one, Luke walked into the room. “I told him to lock the door and threw the fourth tie at him. He eagerly tied my right hand to the remaining bedpost. “At this point, I’m still completely dressed, just tied to the bed. Luke, in his graceless way, stripped naked and got on top of me. He opened my shirt—careful not to rip it—and began licking and kissing my chest. I was almost instantly at my full eight and a half inches, and he hadn’t even had the courtesy to undo my zipper. “When he felt me squirm underneath him, Luke got a big, goofy smile. He asked if I wanted my fellow to come out and play. I nodded, of course. He then slowly inched himself up my body until he was practically sitting on my face. I was already tied to the bed, but he was kneeling, one knee on each of my arms, his dick and balls on my face, towering over me. He looked down at me and told me he’d only let my cock out if I got him off first. “You don’t know this, Doug, but Luke almost never lets me blow him. It’s not his thing; he was only offering now as a power trip. Before tonight, I’d never given a blow job without the use of my hands. It is an entirely different experience, and I must recommend it. Using only my tongue, I had to maneuver him into my mouth, and my Luke is a thick fellow, so it took a handful of tries. Luke offered no help. He just looked down at me, and I swear he was sneering. “I finally lucked out and got it in my mouth, all of Luke into me, and I began to pivot my neck back and forth. I got into a steady rhythm, and Luke began playing with his chest and bucking his hips. I knew he was getting close, so I started swirling my tongue around the tip of his head, and he came so hard that I thought I was going to drown. “I though Luke was going to let my dick out now, but he had lied. Instead, he made me lick out both his hairless armpits. Luke, bless his heart, thinks that humiliates me. As long as he’s recently shaved, though, I love exploring his muscular armpits with my tongue. So, I enthusiastically obeyed his command. “Once I licked him clean, then he let my dick out. By this point, I was red and swollen and about to explode. But Luke wasn’t done using me yet. He untied both of my feet, and tore off my pants and underwear. He then re-tied my feet together to the right bedpost. The fourth tie he wrapped around the base of my dick so I couldn’t explode without his say-so. “Now that I was trussed up to his liking, he went to his travel bag and pulled out the warming lube, his favorite. He covered me with it, absolutely ruining my tie, but I didn’t care about that then. “He lowered himself on to me, practically in one go. He sneered again and said, ‘What are you waiting for?’ “I had no leverage, there was a tie knotted around my cock, his weight was on top of me, and he was ordering me to do all the work. Never let it be said that I back down from a challenge. “I start bucking up and down as hard as I could, but between my awkward position and the copious lube, nothing is really happening. So, I began flexing my cock. It was hard to do through the tie, but the more I did it, the looser the tie got. “Luke smiled in encouragement. It was working. I decided to try swiveling, grinding my hips in a circle. That really started working. When Luke’s really deep in it and starting to get off, he gets stone silent, and Luke was so quiet I was worried he had stopped breathing. “I was getting him closer and closer, but Luke doesn’t like coming twice so quickly, so before I got him there, he got off me and walked away. My dick was slick, angry, and purple. My balls craved release. “Luke took his hand and began tracing the veins on my shaft with his index finger. Lightly. Tenderly. Smoothly. It was hell. I began violently shaking against my binding. But he kept it up for ten minutes. For ten minutes, he teased and tickled my cock. “I was practically crying, so he applied some more lube, got back on top of me and asked, ‘Are you ready to heel?’ “By this point, I would have barked if he asked me to, so I nodded. He untied my cock and began pistoning up and down on it with such fury that I came almost immediately. But he kept going. I was past orgasming, but he just kept pistoning. I knew he wouldn’t stop until he came, so I did my best to egg him on, but it was torture. I had just come, and he was still stimulating my whole cock. “When he finally came for the second time, he turned a deep pink and erupted all over my chest silently, but with volumes of semen. As soon as he crested, he leaned over and began spooning me. Out of self-preservation, I worked my dick out of his ass while I was still tied to the bed. He untied me and fell asleep, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. The whole thing worked me up, so I left him in bed and came down here.” I couldn’t help smiling, thinking about my one time with Luke. “You two clearly trust each other,” Doug said. “Is that all you got from my story?” Dave asked. “Oh, it was hot. Don’t get me wrong. That’s something I’ll be sharing with Henry later. But I’m more interested in why boyfriend Chris is smiling.” I was no longer smiling. “That’s easy,” Dave said. “Chrissy here was just thinking about Luke’s birthday.” Dave was trying to embarrass me in front of James’s father, but he didn’t know Doug as well as I did. I swallowed the bite of food in my mouth and clarified. “I was Luke’s birthday present this year. The three of us had a one-night thing.” “Was this before or after you began dating Jimmy?” Doug asked. “Before.” It was the honest answer. Doug did not need to know it was only hours before James and I started dating. “Glad to hear it,” Doug said. He then added, “So which is sex: slaying the dragon, or sparkle?” I felt like Doug was laying a trap for me. Dave leaned in to Doug and said, “That would be slaying the dragon,” still leaning towards Doug, Dave turned his head towards me. “Is Charles scheduling your sex time with James?” I nodded. Dave turned back to Doug. “That micro-managing meathead is my ex. He called our love-making slaying the dragon. He apparently still does.” “Be honest,” Doug said. “If I hadn’t come in, you would’ve told Dave all about sex with my son, right?” “Maybe,” I said. “I’d have wheedled it out of him,” Dave said. “If it’s not crossing a line, I’d like to hear it too,” Doug announced. “It’s crossing a line,” I responded. “Is it? When we were at Henry’s cabin, you already told me about Jimmy’s first time, and we talked about the quickies in the shower, and I’ve already seen you naked.” “What went on at that cabin?” Dave asked. “And why wasn’t I invited?” “If it’ll make it less weird, I could share first.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “It seems all of us slew a dragon today,” Doug said, wagging his eyebrows up and down. “Please let him tell it,” Dave begged. Part of me thought it was wrong, but most of me just wanted to hear it. “Alrighty, then,” Doug said. “I was downstairs in my office, on the computer with my headphones on, just as I promised you and Jimmy. I wasn’t, however, doing work. I was surfing the net for porn. “When you’ve been together as long as Henry and me, sometimes you have to schedule intimacy, or it doesn’t happen. For the last ten years, Wednesday night has been sex night. We try to work in physical intimacy as often as we can, including spontaneous sex, but come hell or high water, Wednesday night is sex night. Even that first Wednesday night at the cabin. “But I figured with all of Jimmy’s friends in the house, Henry would think it was unrefined or gauche or some other big word for impolite, so I was taking care of myself. I had my cock out and was stroking it lazily with my right hand, my left hand operating both mouse and keyboard, looking for something that struck my fancy. You can thank me for Jimmy’s cock, by the way. I may not be as impressive as my son in most ways, but he definitely inherited his cock from me. “I couldn’t find anything that was doing it for me. I’d been looking for half an hour, and nothing was working. Call me old-fashioned or sappy if you must, but, really, I just wanted Henry. Suddenly, I felt a kiss on the back of my neck. Henry had come into my office to tell me that the boys hadn’t gone shopping, and he caught me literally with my dick in my hand. “I went to put it away, more embarrassed than ashamed, but he stopped me. Instead, he locked the office door. We had established firm boundaries, and the boys were likely to be in bed, and it was Wednesday after all. “He took off his shirt, and, boys, my husband has an amazing chest. Taut and firm. And he has these beautiful nipple rings. You know, boyfriend Chris. The ones he wore at the lake. He came over to my desk and sat on my lap. I began kissing his chest, biting at his piercings, he put his arms around my neck and kissed the top of my head and gently tugged my hair. He knows what gets me worked up, and by this point I was leaking like a faucet. “I undid his belt and his zipper, and pulled down his pants until his ass was revealed. I ran my fingers over the slightly raised surface of the tattoo on his ass, and he began kissing my cheek, working his way down to my neck. “Unable to control myself anymore, I picked him up and ran to the bedroom off my office. I practically threw him on the bed, and he just lay there, smiling up at me. I entered him in one quick thrust—the tricky little minx had lubed himself before he even came downstairs. Soon I was bucking my hips, going all the way to hilt with each thrust. “When I knew I was close, I flipped Henry on to his stomach, and reached around to grab his cock. I’m a practiced hand, so I slowed my thrusts and sped up my manual stimulation until Henry and I were both about to burst. “Now that we were both on the verge, I ramped up to full speed on both fronts, and we came together in one cry, one voice, one body. I never feel closer to my husband than when we come together.” When Doug finished his story, Dave was beaming, his face in his hands. “Would you adopt me?” he asked. “I swear I was raised by the wrong parents.” “That wasn’t too embarrassing, was it, boyfriend Chris?” By this point I’d finished my meal and thought I could use that as an excuse to avoid playing this midnight game of show-and-tell. “Not at all,” I said, rising to put my Tupperware in the sink. “Nope,” Dave said, pushing my chair back in. “We’re not done here.” “I don’t want to tell a story about fucking James in front of his father.” “Fucking not sex?” Doug asked. “What?” “Not sex or a quickie. You said ‘fuck.’” “This wasn’t sex. This wasn’t love making. Charles has us on such a short leash, that this was not sex. This was animalistic, primal. A carnal urge.” “Now I have to hear it,” Dave said. “Ditto,” Doug said. I surrendered. “Fine. You want to hear about your son’s sex life? I’ll give you every last detail. “James showed me to his childhood bedroom. I was pleased that the doors in this house are wide enough that I don’t bump my shoulders. I was surprised by how sparse and Spartan James’s room was. No posters, no pictures of friends, no trophies. Just a couple of overfull bookcases, a desk, and a dresser. “I asked him why his room was so bare, and he said that you, Doug, used to read into everything he ever put on his wall, so he just stopped decorating them as a form of teenage rebellion. Then he showed me his bed. “His twin bed. “I think James has had that bed since middle school because he has trouble fitting on it by himself. There was no way both of us were going to fit on it together. It just wasn’t going to happen. “James suggested that he sleep on top of me, like a human blanket, so we both stripped naked, and I got on his bed. I was wider than his mattress. If I lay perfectly centered on the mattress, both shoulders spread over the sides. The thought of being wider than a mattress was so hot, that I sprang to my full 16 inches. “Delighted to see that I was enjoying his bed, James climbed on top of me, and, his back to me, he began going down on me. I don’t know how he fits me down his throat, but he does. And while he was getting my cock nice and wet, I was working his asshole wider and wider with my fingers. “When he’d gotten me as wet as he wanted, he turned back around to face me, and lowered himself on top of me. We’ve been working at this for a while, and now he can take all of me. Even my ridiculously thick base. “Once I was completely inside him, I was stymied for a bit. Normally, this was when I’d flip him over and take control, but there was no room to do that. Between the two of us and that itty-bitty bed, we were too big to have sex. That got me even stiffer, which James seemed to like a lot. “Impatient to get things started, James began to bounce up and down on my cock. He’d soon worked himself into a frenzy, up and down as quickly as he could. “We’d only just started to get into a rhythm, when I thought I heard something, so I told James to sop, but he just kept going. Then the bed broke. “Between his weight, my weight, and the up and down motion, we broke the bed. We weren’t even at full speed yet, and that bed just collapsed. Sorry, Doug, but that bed is ruined. “The impact of hitting the floor with James on top of me caused me to bottom out with a force I normally don’t manage, so James let loose a string of curse words on the pain/pleasure boundary. “James was so delighted by this discovery that, with me fully inside him, he began repeatedly getting up and dropping to the floor, practically piledriving himself onto my cock. Over and over he did this. Splintering the few fragments of bed that hadn’t already been destroyed. I was enthralled by his dedication. Also, I was mesmerized by the fact that my over 200-pound boyfriend crashing down on me wasn’t breaking any bones or doing any damage. In fact, the speed and force felt amazing. “Soon after, James erupted into an orgasm. Seeing him getting off without me, I flipped him over, broken furniture be damned, and pounded him until I joined him in a roaring ejaculation.” When I finished talking, I got up and put my dishes in the sink. “Bravo,” Dave said. “Henry was right about the walls being sturdy,” I acknowledged. “I thought the only reason you hadn’t heard us was that you were out of the house. You guys didn’t hear me bellow like a feral moose or the bed fragmenting into a thousand pieces.” I looked at Doug. “Again, sorry, Doug.” “It was an old bed,” Doug said. “I only have one question.” “We’re sleeping on the floor. With the shag carpet, it’s surprisingly comfortable.” “That wasn’t it,” he corrected. “Oh, sorry. What was it?” “Did you say sixteen inches? As in four squared?” I nodded sincerely. “And Jimmy can take all of you?” I nodded again. Doug burst out laughing. “Are you okay?” Dave asked. “From my conversations with Jimmy, I thought my son was some sort of sex-starved prude,” Doug said, “when he’s a pornographic dynamo that can take all of your man-cannon in furniture-obliterating passion. I have never been so relieved in all my life.” James walked into the room rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Chris? You’re still in the kitchen? You coming back to bed?” Under his breath, Dave whispered, “What bed?” to Doug, and both began laughing like schoolchildren. “What’s so funny?” James asked. Doug got up and patted his son on the shoulder. “Nothing, Jimmy. We were just having a late-night gossip session. Everything’s funnier in the middle of the night.” He kissed his son on the cheek and wished him goodnight, then left the kitchen. “Night, stallions,” Dave said, grabbing his script and leaving the kitchen. When it was just the two of us in the kitchen, James looked at me sternly and said, “You told them about the bed.” I looked down at the floor and said, “I told them about the bed.” James shrugged and turned to go back upstairs. “They were going to find out eventually.” We went back upstairs, crawled under the covers on the floor, and slept in each other’s arms.
  15. Chapter 46 As soon as we got inside, I was delighted to find out dinner was waiting for us—exactly as Charles had specified. Henry is an amazing cook. Conversation was fluid. Over and over, little groups were born as side conversations, then absorbed into a group conversation, laughter, and liveliness. After dinner, we spent a half an hour just chatting and catching up. It had been a long day, and James let out a yawn. Taking his segue, Henry addressed the group. “My husband and I are delighted to have you in the house, but I do think it will benefit the group if we acknowledge that there are three pairs of sexually active adults in this house. All of the doors to the bedrooms have locks, so if any couple feels romantic, please do make your way to a bedroom and lock the door. The walls in this house are surprisingly sturdy, so as long as you do nothing too…” he delicately chose his words, “operatic, you can be fairly certain of your privacy. As you expect privacy from others, respect the privacy of a locked door.” “Excellently put,” Dave said. “Jimmy,” he continued, “you and Chris will have your bedroom, unless you have any objections.” James shook his head. “Dave, Luke, we have two guest rooms. One is on the second floor with everyone else, and the other is in the basement. The one on the second floor has its own bathroom. If you choose the one in the basement, you’ll have to go up one or two flights of stairs to use the commode. However, the one in the basement has extra privacy because Doug uses it when he’s treating couples with sexual dysfunction. Which would you prefer?” “Does the one in the basement have a window?” Dave asked. “No, it does not.” “Second floor, please,” Dave said. As Henry showed Dave and Luke to their room, Doug pulled me and James aside. “I know you boys really care about this bodybuilding show you’re training for, but I don’t know if the shed is going to cut it. We should check it out tonight before you hit the hay, and I know you guys go to bed super early. So, maybe we should look now.” “The shed?” I asked. “For my sixteenth birthday, Dad and Uncle Henry converted the shed in the backyard into a home gym for me.” “Not just for you, Mr. Greedy,” Doug said playfully. “Henry and I use it all the time. But the weightlifting equipment, yes, that was a 16th birthday present for Jimmy.” Doug took us out back to show us the shed. It was a little cramped, and the only machines in it were a treadmill and a stationary bike, but it had more than enough weights I would need for a short stay, if James and I got inventive. “This’ll work,” I said. “Good. Jimmy will show you his room, and then, according to the schedule,” he pulled out a printout of the google doc, “you two will do something called ‘slay the dragon,’ followed by something called ‘sparkle.’ I’m sure at least one of those is sex. Glad you scheduled some time for each other.” “Dad!” “I don’t know which one it is,” Doug said. “Besides, I’m going to be in my office, in the basement, typing up notes. While listening to Metallica. On my noise-cancelling headphones. And by now, Henry should have taken Luke and Dave out to the local mall for after-dinner outlet shopping.” We heard Dave’s car door close. “Thank you, Dad” James said, and he dragged me to his bedroom.
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