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  1. Chapter 26 That’s how most days went. We’d wake up, run to the gym, work out, run home, take turns showering, and then just enjoy each other’s company: splashing around the lake, watching movies on James’s laptop, or doing nothing in particular. We watched the sunset every night in each other’s arms, and shortly after nightfall, James would go to sleep in his separate room. But every day, James would find a way to ramp up the sexual energy. On Sunday, James wanted me to stay his size for most of the day. He’d never had the nerve to try out for wrestling in high school, and he’d always wanted to try it with someone his size. So, after dinner, in the soft grass behind the cabin, he got into his speedo and I into my trunks (even tighter around my ass) and wrestled. Our strength was pretty evenly matched, but James had a slight advantage because he was more graceful and used to his size. After he won the second match, me still pinned me to the ground, he said, “Let’s make this more interesting, Big Guy.” I felt the pleasure roll through me as James was forced slightly away from my body as it grew bigger. We wrestled a third time, and I just barely edged him out. When I pinned him to the ground, he smiled broadly and said, “It’s official. You’re bigger and stronger than me.” He squirmed a little when he said it, creating friction between our bathing suits. I had to stand up and back away as quickly as I could or he’d have won the challenge right then and there. On Monday, the lack of orgasms was definitely getting to me. My balls were swollen and hanging low in my sack. My boxer briefs, already overtaxed by my enlarged ass, fought me when I tried to get my nuts inside. Even for me, I was bulging obscenely the whole morning. When we got home from the gym and showered, I went to get changed. Once again, James had gotten me extra pumped, but I knew he wasn’t going to grow me at the gym again; James wasn’t one to repeat a trick. When I finally got the shirt that I wanted to wear on, the shoulders and armpits threatened to tear, and the seat of my pants were so tight that my individual cheeks were separated. I walked out of the room feeling a little bit like a stuffed sausage to show James. But he was nowhere to be found. I looked in the other bedroom; he wasn’t there. Nor the kitchen. Nor the common room. When I checked the back porch, James sprang out from the shadows and put a hand on each shoulder. “Surprise, Big Guy!” He shouted. I felt electric with pleasure as I grew and thickened. My whole body surged. As I came down from the high, my shoulders, armpit, and ass of my clothes tore simultaneously. “That had to be more than five pounds,” I said. Was my voice getting deeper? James ran inside and back out quickly, bringing with him a digital scale. “I hid this on the first day while you were napping because I didn’t want you to obsess over your size. But I think you’re right, and I need to know just how big you are.” I stepped on the scale and looked down. My pecs were just barely blocking the display, so I had to lean slightly forward. 215. I stepped back off. That number was too big to be real. “Since those clothes are already ruined,” James said. “Why don’t you flex for me?” I lifted both arms up to do a double bi. I was shocked that I could see the peaks in my peripheral vision—without even straining. “Not like that,” James said. He came over, ripped off my shirt and sat down on the deck chair. “That’s better.” I went through all the flexes I knew. When I bulged my pecs out, I saw ridges forming in them. My pecs had gotten so big that I could see muscle fibers. I put my fists to my waist and flared out my shoulders. My hands had a little trouble reaching my waist. My biceps and lats were just a little too big, and my waist was still disproportionately small. I managed to do it, and I felt like a superhero. I flexed my abs, and eight bricks came into stark relief. It was official; I’d cross the border between 6-pack and 8-pack. I couldn’t flex my lower half because I was still mostly constrained by my pants, but I had just enough room for my cock to grow painfully hard. “Yeah,” James said. “This show wasn’t only for me.” He walked over and rubbed his beard over my exposed torso, making sure to apply a bit more pressure as he passed my nipples. My body literally vibrated in need. I needed to cum. James got down on his knees and unbuckled my belt, slowly opening my zipper. He slipped the band of my boxer briefs just low enough for my cock to pop out and point straight ahead. The head of my cock was just inches from his mouth. “Hello, friend,” James said, breathing heavily on the tip. The warmth made my cock throb in anticipation. “I look forward to playing with you on Wednesday.” With that, he got up and went to make lunch. I stood there, bare-chested, cock exposed, in ruined pants, a giant of a man. All I wanted to do was bang one out. Right there. It would only take ten seconds I was so ready to fire. Instead, I ran down the dock and jumped headfirst into the lake, shucking my pants as I ran. The shock did the trick. When I walked back inside, sopping wet, James just nodded. “Well played.” Tuesday, I woke up with my nuts tender to the touch and a darker color than I was used to. I also had the most engorged morning wood I have ever had in my life. I decided to just let it stick up out of my briefs and threw on the largest workout t-shirt I had. The fabric stretched, especially across my pecs and biceps, but it fit, and hid my boner. The only pants I had that still fit without a struggle were my workout tights. So, I put those on and headed out into the common room to see if James had finished breakfast. He was sitting on the couch that was opposite my bedroom door. He was completely naked and fully erect. He’d even spread his legs apart so I had a full-frontal view. His cock had to be 9 inches, maybe 9 and a half. And oh, was it thick. It was beer-can thick. Granted, mine was thicker, but what about me wasn’t these days. “Good morning,” he said. Seeing his muscle, and body hair, and glorious cock all in the soft sunlight of an early morning—he looked like a painting by a Renaissance master. I nearly came right there and then. I had to grip the doorjamb to get control of myself. I could feel the wood give a little under my grip. But I managed to regain control. “One more day,” I said and walked into the bathroom. “I’m impressed,” James said from the common room. “You should be preparing yourself for a threesome,” I said, toothbrush in my mouth. “Nah. I got a whole day left. And I have a few bullets left in my arsenal.” All morning, I expected James to do something diabolical, but it so far progressed like a normal day. All the way through lunch, I expected every touch, kiss, and caress to come with it some underhanded tactic to make me explode. Because I was practically exploding already. I had at least a chubby all day with a hair trigger. The most slightly sexy things James did made me spring to full hardness. My nuts roiled all day, giving off a low-level heat. And nothing relieved it. Whenever we were sitting still, I had to bounce one leg or the other to burn off my energy. Whenever we were running or exercising, I had to exert caution to not allow any friction to my crotch. Whenever I had to use the restroom, I had to wrap toilet paper around my cock because skin to skin contact was too inviting. An hour before sunset, James and I were sitting on the couch not watching anything or talking, just spooning. James was always the big spoon, and today I was especially grateful for that because even just this contact was causing my erection to leak pre. At one point, he looked down at me and said, “I love you, Big Guy,” and I grew in his arms. The closeness and intimacy of the moment, growing further into James’s hard body, my own body just that much harder, eclipsed even the waterfall of pleasure I felt inside. As I came out of it, I said, “I love you, too.” He tapped me on the shoulder, and I let him up. “I have a present for you,” he said as he went into his room. “What is it?” I asked from the common room, tugging my t-shirt so it fit more comfortably on my larger pecs. My arms were now just slightly too large for the sleeves; I had to pull them up to my shoulders. James came back from his room holding a small gift-wrapped box. “With those five pounds,” he said, “you now weigh 220.” I nodded, not entirely sure where he was going. “How much did you weight when we met?” he asked. “Oh my God,” I said. “That’s right, Chris. You have just doubled your weight.” That thought caused my already stiff and leaking cock to stiffen and leak more. My breathing got a little short. I was my own living wet dream. James handed me the box. “I give you this to commemorate the moment.” I opened it, inside was my old green t-shirt with the pocket on it. Now, I was twice as huge as the man who fit into this t-shirt comfortably. The last time I’d held this t-shirt, I’d only weighed 150 pounds and I’d felt like a blimp. Now I was a colossus. The last time I’d held this t-shirt, it looked five sizes too small. Now it looked like a child’s shirt. “Dave wanted to send it to Good Will, but I saved it. Want to try it on?” James asked. I wriggled out of my t-shirt. I put one arm into the shirt. My arm practically filled the whole shirt. I managed to get my forearm through the sleeve, but the bicep wouldn’t fit. Not even a little. I put my head through the hole just to see, and the shirt wouldn’t even stretch wide enough to accommodate my shoulders. I pulled it just a little to try to get one shoulder in, and the shirt tore practically in half. When I destroyed that little shirt, I felt the floodgates release. Suddenly, my briefs felt wet, and a dark spot had formed on the front of my tights, leading all the way down to my ankle, where a river of semen was accumulating at my foot. “I win,” James said.
  2. Chapter 25 The car ride was uneventful because the whole time I was wondering what James’s big surprise was. I was, of course, hoping it was sex, but his use of the word “big” was troubling. When we arrived, I was surprised by how remote it was. The lake was so enormous that I couldn’t actually see the far shore, and we were surrounded on all sides by mountains and trees. The cabin itself was small. The building was beyond rustic; it looked like it was made from trees that just fell over. If the cabin had four rooms inside, I’d be surprised. “You didn’t say it was a forest mansion,” I joked. “I had to make sure you weren’t after my vast wealth,” he rejoined. Luckily, the inside was gorgeous. Each room was tastefully decorated to make the room seem larger than it could possibly be. And there were five rooms if you counted the minuscule bathroom. There were two bedrooms, a common room with two couches, and a kitchen that doubled as a dining room. James walked over to the kitchen cabinets and opened them. “As I expected,” he said. “Nothing to eat unless we want cleaning supplies for dinner. I’m going to hit the local store to stock up on food. You enjoy the place. I’ll be back right quick.” Once I was alone in the house, I felt very out of place. I knew I had permission to be here, but it felt like I was trespassing, so I decided to wait out back. The back door opened to a back porch with a breathtaking view of the lake and the mountains. This view was why people paid to rent the cabin. The porch was surprisingly large, about half as big as the whole cabin. It was dotted with wooden lawn chairs and places to sunbathe. It ended with the two steps down to a stone path that led to the lake. I hopped over the stairs and followed the path. There was a dock for boating, a barbecue pit, even a little sliver of sandy beach. I could see why October was the off-season; this place was built for summer activities. I walked back up to the porch and sat in one of the wooden chairs, leaned back, and relaxed. I don’t know if it was the lake air or the drive or something else, but I actually fell asleep waiting for James to come back. He shook me gently and cooed, “Wake up, Big Guy.” That was the absolute best way to wake up ever. I reeled with pleasure, both from sensation within and scenery without. As I grew larger in the chair, I could feel my clothes, tight by design, get just a little tighter, and the chair felt just a hair smaller. “I never actually got to see that,” James said. “Like what you see?” “Always,” he said kissing me. “Was this the big plan? Get me out in the woods and watch me hulk out of my clothes?” “All at once like that? Who do I look like? Luke?” He shook his head. “I am a patient fellow. And we have until Thursday. I want to watch you get a little bit bigger every day. I want your clothes to still fit you by the end of the week, but just barely, so they’ll be easier to tear off you.” My cock stirred in my pants. “I see we like that.” James stroked my cock through the fabric. “I propose a challenge, Chris.” “Oh?” I was intrigued. “I know that your huge equipment needs to get off several times a day.” “You hear what I do in the gym bathroom?” “Everyone hears what you do in the gym bathroom.” I blanched, but only a little. James continued, “So, here’s the challenge. This whole week, I will grow you a little bit every day. That’s the fun part. The challenging part? No orgasms. No touching yourself. No masturbation. From now until when we take that final step on Wednesday.” “Wednesday?” I repeated. “Wednesday,” James reaffirmed. “Excellent.” “I want you fully loaded and practically exploding my first time.” “Sounds fun. I’m in.” “I didn’t finish. If you do blow before the finale, I get to grow this,” he said, grabbing my cock, “as big as I want it.” “I see no downside.” Then, after a small pause, I added, “But what if I win?” James laughed. “Name it.” “Seriously?” “Yeah,” James said dismissively. “Go ahead. We both know that you’re not winning. I don’t plan on playing fair.” “Okay. A threesome with a guy of my choosing.” “I expected something more creative from you.” “Well, I’ve just had my first threesome, and I know now that I like them.” “Okay, done. If you miraculously make it to Wednesday without orgasm, we have a threesome. When you blow early, I get to grow your cock as big as I want, no objections from you.” “Game on,” I said. James didn’t lie; he didn’t play fair. We decided to go swimming that afternoon because the water was surprisingly warm for October. My body looked even bigger in my swim trunks, even my ass. I had to wear trunks because I was too big for a speedo, a problem I loved having. I dove into the water while James got changed. When he came out of the house and walked to the lake, he was in a black terrycloth robe. Given his shyness around public nudity, I half-expected him to wear an old-timey bathing costume, but when he took of his robe, he was wearing a bright blue speedo. For the first time, in the clear light of day, I got to see my boyfriend’s bulge. My man was hung. The fabric of the speedo was spread thin at the bottom because his cock and balls took up so much of the space. His cock, pressed firmly in the front of the pouch, looked wide and impressive. When he walked to the edge of the lake, his thick legs shook with might and power, and his package bounced ever-so slightly. “Like what you see?” he asked from the sand, echoing my come-on from earlier. “Always,” I said, finishing the echo. James dove into the water with his dancer’s grace and joined me in the water. The water clung to his chest hair and darkened it to nearly black. “What happened to my never-naked boyfriend?” “Who’s around to see?” he said. “With a body like yours, you should be shirtless all the time.” “With a body like mine,” he responded, “people stare and ogle. And I turn bright red and hide.” “Can I stare and ogle?” “Please do.” “You’re an enigma,” I said, and we continued swimming. We dressed and spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company, ending the day watching the sunset while we made out. He slowly coaxed my shirt off my body, and I slowly coaxed his shirt off his body. Light turned to half-light, turned to darkness. We stroked each other’s chests, and I realized I was closely approaching James’s size and said as much between kisses. This really got his engine revving. James, when he wanted to, was a passionate kisser. He was kissing me so roughly that night that the sandpaper tingling from his beard left my cheeks and chin red. When my cock reached its full foot of length from his ministrations, James patted the head of it through my pants and said, “Goodnight,” and went to sleep in the other room. It took me a cold shower to get it back down without masturbating. The next morning, I woke with the sunrise. I lazily looked out the window at the foot of my bed, the view partially obscured by my morning wood. I almost reflexively jacked it off, but then I remembered the game and got dressed instead. My bulge was obvious, but it would prove I was still in the game. James made breakfast before I woke up. No boyfriend had ever made me breakfast before. I was so touched I didn’t know how to respond. Rather than vacation food, pancakes and the like, James had made an excessively healthy breakfast. “I’m not letting you slack on that tower of man-muscle just because it’s vacation.” I sat down to eat, and James continued. “There’s a gym in town. After breakfast, let’s run into town, no car, do our usual workout, and then run back home. We can make it an every-morning thing.” “Sounds good,” I said through a mouthful of eggs. The gorgeous view, the gorgeous breakfast, the gorgeous boyfriend—he could’ve suggested recreational taxidermy, and I would’ve been up for it. “Good. Town is five miles away” I didn’t realize how mean a trick that was until we were well on our way. I’d done plenty of cardio at the gym (elliptical, treadmill, etc.), but I hadn’t done any serious running since I was a much smaller man. Running with a huge body was a new experience. I had so much flesh moving in every direction, including my cock and balls that were slowly swelling with unreleased cum. We weren’t running particularly fast, but five miles is a lot farther than it sounded. The gym was eerily empty, and James bought us two visitors passes. The woman behind the desk smiled at these two sweaty musclemen who had wandered into her enclosure, and she got overly friendly with James. When she handed him his guest towels, she put her hand on top of his and said, “I would love to give you a personal, intimate tour. You obviously care about your body.” I stepped in between the two of them and said, “We know our way around a gym, thanks.” She must have taken this as me flirting with her because, without dropping a beat, she smiled at me and said, “I could give the tour to you instead, if that’s what you want.” I turned to James, planted a deep kiss on him and asked, “Should we get a tour?” She returned to her desk knowingly, and James broke out into a fit of giggles. Because we had just run that ridiculous distance, I thought he was going to go easy on me. I was wrong. He pushed me harder and harder. I was moving iron like I never had. At first, I thought this gym had to have mislabeled the weights; then I remembered that I was working with five extra pounds of meat. I hit several of my personal bests. James took full advantage of the workout to cheat at our game. Whenever I spotted him, he would grunt a little deeper, puff his breath a little louder. Whenever he got off a machine or re-racked some weight, he would strut, practically dance, back to me, sticking out his chest, then stand close to me, heaving and sweating. He would do any little thing to get me all riled up. It worked. At the end of our workout, I was pumped like I had never been in my life. My muscles, especially in my arms and chest, were so red they were angry, and my cock was so stiff it was trying to make a break for it. “Ready for the run back?” James asked. I had gotten so into my workout that I had saved nothing for the return run. “I guess.” “Good,” he said, and put his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “You got this, Big Guy.” I had never grown while pumped. The pleasure nearly cycled back into pain. My workout clothes grew more confining, and I felt substantial in a way I never had. That was more than five pounds. James looked me up and down. “Now we’re an even match.” He was right. Especially because that last spurt had been more than five pounds, we were now the same size. I was as big as James. My cock grew even harder. “Race you home,” James said and ran out the front door. Running with an erection and all that extra weight was both erotic and impossible. James, of course, beat me home by a significant margin. When I got inside, all I wanted to do was shower, but James was already using it. I decided to sneak a peek, and when I opened the door, James was just stepping out, a towel draped halfway around his waist, intentionally leaving his back half exposed. “All yours,” he said, and walked out of the bathroom, sliding his body past mine to squeeze through the door. Once he passed me, I turned around and got an full view of his firm, hard, and huge ass, lightly dusted with hair. I was hard again. “Fuck!” I screamed. “Not ‘til Wednesday,” he replied.
  3. Chapter 24 Unlike most college campuses, ours has both a fall and a spring break. Fall break this year was the second week of October, the week after James did his striptease. Usually, the four of us would just use the week to hang out because the campus stayed open the whole time. “I can’t do it this year,” Luke said. It was the Friday before fall break, and we were having breakfast at our usual picnic table by the library. Break would start as soon as James got out of his afternoon class, and Luke was just now dropping this bombshell. “Our team has a real shot of making the College Cup this year, and I have an away game both weekends and extra practices in between.” “How are you going to survive a whole nine days without your better half?” I asked Dave, a little sarcasm in my tone. “Oh, I won’t,” Dave replied. James pulled out his cell phone to look at the clock. “Time of death, 10:48 AM.” Then, to me, he added “I’ll miss Dave.” “Very droll,” Dave said. “I am going with him to the away games. And the coach asked me to make some behind-the-scenes photos and video clips to sell as merch. Now that there are fans, someone has to do it.” “You’re getting paid, aren’t you?” I surmised. “I’m on commission,” Dave corrected. “I might as well take the job. I’m going to be at half the practices anyway.” “Half?” I asked. “The fall mainstage, Chrissy. Thanks to our showcase, I got the lead. I’ve got rehearsals every weekday during fall break.” “And how are you going to survive without your cheerleader by your side?” James asked. “I’ve already cleared it with his director. When I don’t have practice, I can watch rehearsal. As long as I’m really quiet.” “So, you’re going to be here for most of break, just too busy to hang out?” I clarified. “That’s the long of short of it,” Dave said. “Later, James. Later, buddy,” Luke said, clearing his seat. “See you…” he thought about it, then finished, “after fall break.” Dave cleared his space and said, “Do try to think fondly of us in our absence.” As soon as they’d left, James slumped happily in his seat. “They’re a lot, aren’t they?” “Yeah. That’s what I like about them.” “Don’t get me wrong. They’re my friends too. They’re good company and generous and funny. Without them, I doubt I’d go to half as many campus events as I do. And they’re really good at drawing attention away from me, so I don’t feel like a raw nerve in a crowd. But they’re a lot.” I shrugged. “I like their over-the-top personalities. And you do too, or you’d run headfirst into the woods.” James turned in his seat to face me head on. “That gives me a great idea.” A little wary, I gave a minimal response so he would continue. “My Uncle Henry has a cabin on a lake about two hours from here. He never gets the chance to use it, so he rents it out to people for vacations. It’s beautiful. October’s the off-season, so why don’t I call him to see if we can get it for the week?” “Sounds perfect,” I said. “If it’s available, let’s do it.” James kissed me on the cheek, grabbed his phone, and ran a few feet away to call his uncle. Two minutes into the phone call, James came back to the table. “Hey, Chris. Uncle Henry says it’s all ours, but there’s a catch.” “Oh? We need to fix the porch or something?” “Nothing like that,” James reassured. “Uncle Henry and my dad were planning on coming up for a weekend fishing trip next weekend. So, we’d be sharing the cabin for two or three days.” “Meeting the family?” I said. “I’m in if you’re in.” James returned to the phone, “It’s all cool. See you soon. Love you too.” He hung up and sat back down at the table. “I am so excited. I haven’t been to the cabin in years, and I haven’t seen my dad and Uncle Henry since August.” “So, is he your dad’s brother, or your mom’s brother?” “Who?” “Uncle Henry.” “Oh. He’s not my uncle.” “Now I’m confused.” I furrowed my eyebrows. “I call him Uncle Henry, but he’s not a blood relative.” “It’s an honorary thing. Got it.” James stalled before the sentence even started. “What?” “He’s my dad’s husband. He’s my other dad.” I was shocked. “Your dad’s gay?” “Yeah. My mom and dad got divorced when I was four. Uncle Henry moved in and mom moved out.” “And he married your father?” “About three years ago, when it became legal. But they’ve been together forever.” “Wouldn’t that make him your step-father?” “Legally, I suppose. I mean, he raised me, so I just think of him as family.” “Then why call hm uncle?” “That’s what he told me to call him when I was four. They came out to me when I was in fifth grade, and my only follow-up question was if I could still call him Uncle Henry. Now I’ve been doing it for so long, it just feels normal.” “He’s okay with that?” James explained, “He was so worried I’d pull the whole ‘you’re not my father’ thing that he was relieved by it.” “Your dad is gay, and you’re gay.” “Yes.” James nodded. “What was that like when you came out to him?” James shook his head. “I never came out to him.” “Why not?” “No one back home knows I’m gay.” “It’s not like he’ll disown you. He’s gay too.” “And a therapist. And an over-sharer. He would have wanted to psychoanalyze me or send me to a summer camp where we made sock puppets and talked about our feelings. I’ll tell him when he needs to know.” I turned to James and put my hand on his thigh. “Does he know I’m coming to the cabin?” “Depends if Uncle Henry told him yet.” I cleared my throat and, very slowly, asked, “Who did you tell Uncle Henry was coming to the cabin?” “You.” “But what did you call me?” “Chris.” “Good,” I reassured, “because that’s my name. But how did you describe me?” “I don’t follow.” “Did you say, ‘my friend Chris?’ Or ‘my boyfriend Chris?’ Or something else?” “Boyfriend.” “Congratulations,” I said, slapping James on the shoulder. “You just came out to your fathers.” “I did?” He looked completely lost. As James said that, his phone rang and he answered. “Hey, Dad.” I couldn’t hear what his father was saying on the other end. “Yeah, Uncle Henry said that right. Boyfriend. Yes, Chris is my boyfriend.” A loud scream of joy erupted on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, Uncle Henry told me. Yeah. Uh-huh. Okay. Love you too, Dad.” He hung up and looked at me. “I just came out to my dads.” “He sounded really happy about it.” “He’s really happy about it. He’s coming-up-a-whole-day-early-so-we-can-spend-more-time-together happy about it.” “That’s cool,” I said. “He didn’t want to do a group therapy session or show me inkblots or anything like that. He was just really happy to hear it.” “I’m glad,” I said honestly. “Now I can’t wait to leave for the cabin.” “Then let’s not wait.” “Yes!” He was palpably excited. “I’ll blow off my afternoon class. Go pack. I’ll meet you at my car. I have some big ideas for our vacation,” he said as he raced off. Before he was completely out of sight, he shouted over his shoulder, “Big!”
  4. Chapter 23 The end of September quickly became the beginning of October, and James and I were closer than ever. We weren’t attached at the hip like Dave and Luke, thankfully, but we were fast approaching that territory. James still slept in his own room, sometimes I went 15 or 16 whole hours without seeing him, and we didn’t text each other when we were in separate classes, but we were firmly established as a couple. Sometimes, when James was walking through campus by himself, strangers would recognize him and shout, “Soccer tweet’s boyfriend!”—something that always made him look down and speed up. The beard made James easier to recognize. He did nothing in half-measures, and he felt he had to out-do the photographer. Most 22-year-olds can’t grow a beard so thick and luxurious at all, and James did it in ten days. I stopped him before he went full Duck Dynasty, and now he kept it neat and trimmed near his face. Our relationship had definitely progressed over the past few weeks—James was eating off plates and no longer tripped or got tongue-tied. However, I was painfully aware that I had never seen my boyfriend naked. And the few times he’d gotten undressed near me (mostly at the gym), he did it behind a door or made me turn around so I wasn’t looking. “Like a gentleman,” he always added. We hadn’t moved past second base, and even then, I had to reach under his shirt. He wouldn’t take it off. My body demanded sexual release, even more so since I had a cock like an aircraft carrier. After James got me hot and heavy during our make-out sessions, I’d have to run off to the men’s room and jack off two times really quickly just to be in the same room as him again. I decided to confront him in my dorm room one afternoon when Luke (and therefore Dave) was at soccer practice. “I’m fine with going slow,” I told him after explaining my frustrations. We were sitting on my bed, and James’s eyes were opened wide after my confession. “I don’t want to put pressure on you. I know you’re a virgin, and your first time can be a big deal. But I want a physical aspect to our relationship, and I need to know we’re headed there.” “You’re right,” he said. “I’ve been doing it on purpose.” “Why?” I was past confused. James steeled himself and said, “I’m scared.” “Of sex?” “Of what comes next. If I disappoint you, I’m scared you’ll leave me. I know you’ve had a threesome. I heard Victor’s screams at the theater party. Fuck, I’ve known you since freshman year and know how many exes and one night stands you’ve had. I’m still getting used to kissing.” “I don’t expect you to be a porn star right out of the gate,” I said. “Heck, I might disappoint you.” “That’s another fear I have,” James admitted. “I had you built up so much in my mind, I had you on a pedestal for so long, that I’m scared that if the sex isn’t mind-blowing, I’ll be disappointed and resentful. I’ve been working on reminding myself that sex is just sex.” “Exactly!” I said. “And we might not even be sexually compatible at first. We have to find what works for us, and that could take a few times.” “I’m getting there; I swear,” James promised. He looked nervous and agitated, like the tripping, inarticulate James I’d known for three years. “I’m just not a me who’s that me yet.” “I’m not saying we have sex tonight. There are steps in-between.” I put my arm on his shoulder and pulled him in close. With my other hand, I stroked his beard. “For instance, I haven’t even seen you shirtless.” “I don’t like being shirtless in public.” “I’ve never even seen you shirtless in private.” “Never?” “Not even when you change at the gym. You do it in one of the stalls.” James sat back and said, “Never?” I shook my head. “That’s easy enough to fix.” James got up and started to take his shirt off, a t-shirt striped with thick lines of dark green and navy blue, but then he suddenly stopped. “I’m going to do this right,” he said. “I might not know how to have sex, but I know I can dance.” He took his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. They were my favorite pair of his pants: tight black denim with silver fixtures. He scrolled through a few screens, selected a song, and then pressed play. It was some slow, old school R&B song I’d never heard, but it sounded like a sex scene from a 1980s movie. Once the music got going, James began to undulate his hips and move closer to me in tune with the music. He then turned to his left profile and did a few body rolls, one fast, and then three slow. I could clearly see all of his muscles flex in and out, even through the shirt. He then took his right hand and reached over to the bottom of his shirt on his left side. Slowly pulling up, he flashed me his abs. They were prominent and powerful, set in a tight waist and covered with thick, chestnut hair, the same thickness and color as his beard. He then lowered his shirt back down and wagged his finger at me, as if to say, “Not yet,” all in time to the music. He then jumped, turning in mid-air to repeat the tease on the other side. I had never realized James was this nimble, and this time when he lifted his shirt, my eyes were drawn down to the top of his jeans, which had crept lower. A small tuft of hair was situated just above his zipper—a trail leading to buried gold. The song entered its second chorus, and James faced me, slowly rolling his body closer to and the further away from me, his crotch front and center. James was definitely getting worked up, as the bulge in his pants grew. The fabric was too dark to get a good picture, but the mystery was intense and captivating. When the song hit the bridge, he crossed his arms in front of himself so each hand could grab the opposite shoulder of the t-shirt. Then, with a forceful tug, pulled the shirt in two directions at once, tearing it in half, revealing his glorious pecs. They were thick and rounded with a pleasant swirl of hair, slightly darker than his beard, spreading from one side to the other, denser in the middle than at either side. His nipples were smaller than I expected, but pert and forthright, darker than the skin that surrounded them. James shed the remains of his t-shirt and put them in his right hand, swung it around the back of my head, and caught the other end in his left hand. He pulled me up tight and close against his body. As the song came to a close, he whispered in my ear, “Is this a step in the right direction?” I answered by bending down and slowly covering every inch of his torso with staccato kisses. Eventually, we tumbled to the bed. We lay in each other’s arms; I traced my hand through his chest hair and ran my pinky over the ridges in his abs. “Thank you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to reciprocate.” “You can lend me a shirt,” he teased.
  5. Chapter 22 The first week after the soccer game passed. After chem lecture on Friday, Dave and I went to meet our boyfriends at the cart, but there was a crowd waiting there. “Why are there so many people in our spot?” I asked. Dave looked through the crowd. “Except for James, they’re all on the soccer team,” he said in fake surprise. I pulled out my phone. There was a reminder flashing—a reminder I didn’t put in my phone. It said: “Photoshoot! Today at 11!” I showed Dave my phone. “Oh good,” he said, “you got my reminder.” I had completely forgotten that was today. When Dave and I joined the group, everyone stood. I made my way over to kiss James hello, and Luke started talking. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s go.” We moved as a group to the photoshoot. The whole time, I stood close to James and we whispered to each other. “I don’t get it,” I started. “The guys on the soccer team love it when the girls in the stand fawn over how hot they are. Even when Dave does it. They had no problem doing the shirtless car wash last year. Why would only 11 of them do the calendar?” James shrugged and said, “I assume they have tiny dicks.” The herd of us had arrived at the art building. Before half the team had backed out, Luke had secured one of the studios in the basement for the shoot, and the photographer was meeting us there. His name was Nicholas Donner, and he was nothing at all like I expected. He was a fireplug of a man, a really macho, burly guy dressed like he was going on a hunting trip, not to a photoshoot. He was wearing a tan vest covered in pockets, a flannel shirt, faded jeans, and paint-stained boots. He completed the image with a thick beard. The studio was intense, full of professional equipment and more workers than I expected. “How can the soccer team afford all this?” I blurted out loud. Dave coughed. “No way,” I said. Dave demurred. “I’m not saying that I tricked my mother into footing the bill for a nude calendar of my boyfriend,” he paused, looking for a way to finish the sentence. A moment later, he said, “But that’s exactly what I did.” “You masterminded this whole thing.” I was almost impressed. Dave feigned an innocent look. “What? She can write it off.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “It’s for charity!” For the ease of organization, the team had decided to do the shoot in the order of the months. I was November, so I was going dead last before the group shot. To protect our modesty—a notion I found adorable given the circumstances—Nicholas had cordoned off part of the room with a portable partition that went two-thirds the way across the room, designated as the nude area. Only naked people, Nicholas, and his staff were allowed in the nude area. Two teammates would be behind the cordon at any given moment: the one being prepped with hair, make up, and minimal wardrobe, and the one being shot. When it was Luke’s turn (June), Dave tried to peek over the cordon, but a lighting guy fended him away. While October was going, I was asked behind the cordon to get ready. Once behind the wall, I was surprised to see just how many people were on this side: three light technicians, two runners, a costumer, a makeup artist, a hair stylist, and Nicholas. How rich was Dave’s mother? One of the runners pointed to a place I could hang my clothes, and I stripped naked. I was then pointed over to the makeup chair where the artist, an older red-haired woman with a gravelly voice—said, “You don’t need much, now do you?” Apparently, she’d been using makeup tricks to make the other guys’ muscles pop out more. For my shoot, I needed to look wet, but sexy wet, so she sprayed me with a glycerin solution. I wanted to ask about its composition, but this wasn’t the time or place. At the same time, the stylist, a rail-thin woman with hip-length ashen blond hair, looked closely at my hair and said, “Oh, thank God, you dye it. If this was your natural hair color, I would have to poison you.” She rubbed a styling gel through my hair to give it a faux, messy, I-just-stepped-out-of-the-shower look. I shook my head back and forth, and not a single hair moved. That was weird. Nicholas called me over after October was finished and had me stand in front of a green screen. The background was going to be superimposed later. He looked me up and down, up and down, smiled, then looked me up and down again. “So, soccer tweet guy actually looks like that,” he said, nodding in approval. He turned to his lighting technicians. “Let’s get some split lighting on this beefy motherfucker.” He turned back around to me. “Can you tuck that thing,” he pointed to my cock, “or do we need a prop to hide it? Like a firetruck?” Every word he said sounded like an accusation. “I doubt I can tuck it,” I said honestly. “Of course not,” he said. He turned to a runner. “Get him a prop.” He turned back to me, “We want to give the audience a thrill, not a heart attack.” “Whatever you want me to do.” He grabbed the back of the runner’s shirt to stop him from leaving. He then said, very slowly, to me, “You’d let me shoot your whole dick?” “Sure,” I said bluntly. “From base to tip?” “Isn’t that the point of this calendar?” “Everyone else teased,” he released his runner and had a one-sided conversation with him. “If he’ll show that mighty cock, I have to seize this opportunity.” He paused, and then, filling in the other half of the argument, added, “But no one else did, so it would throw off the calendar.” He paused again, and then taking up the first half, suggested, “Compromise? Show most, not all?” I had been standing in a neutral stance, but I decided I had to end this man’s torture. I spread my legs further apart so my cock and balls dangled between my legs. I then began swaying back and forth so they would swing, showing their weight. That made up Nicholas’s mind. “Okay, we’re making erotica, not a monster movie. Get the prop. Now, you, November. In this picture, you are getting ready for the big game. You’re fresh out of a hot shower, and the camera catches you getting dressed.” “If you made it a cold shower, my nipples would be hard,” I suggested. Nicholas turned to the other runner. “Get November some ice.” The second runner ran off. The first runner came back from the costumer with an athletic cup, and I laughed. “What’s so funny?” the runner asked. I held the standard-sized athletic cup in front of my meat to show how woefully inadequate it was. Nicholas growled, “Are you serious?” Then he snorted. “For the love of fuck, get him something big enough!” As the runner scurried back to the prop table, Nicholas said to me, “He’s my nephew, or I’d fire him.” The runner was stumped. He hadn’t brought anything big enough to suffice. So, I put up my finger to tell them all to wait, and poked my head around the cordon. “James, my bag.” James handed me my bag, and I went back around the cordon. I took my jock out of my bag, held it in front of me as though I were about to step into it, and asked, “How’s this?” Nichola grunted his approval and then yelled, “Ice!” The second runner came up to me and offered me a bowl of ice. I took a handful and iced my nipples until they were hard and sharp. The first runner then handed me a towel, which I draped over one shoulder. I put my jock back into position. Nicholas then shouted a bunch of directions in a row about how to hold my body, and I complied. He was about to take the first photo, when he whispered something to the second runner, who swapped the towel with a tiny wash cloth. Once the swap was made, I returned to the exact same pose, and Nicholas took a dozen photos in rapid succession. After he had his shot, he turned to his costumer. “Do we have a pouch big enough for him?” “Pardon?” I asked. “The last shot’s all 11 guys—the group shot. Everyone else is going to be wearing a modesty pouch, but I’m pretty sure these fuckwits didn’t bring one big enough for you, and you’ll go commando.” He thought about it for a moment, then added, “The would be great for the photo, but shit for their egos.” Then, to the costumer he said, “Give him the biggest one, see if it fits.” The costumer came over with what looked like a beige colored sock with an elastic ring at the top. I put one testicle in, then the other, and then there was no room for my shaft. The costumer, undaunted, handed me a second pouch just for my cock. All by itself, the cock was thick enough to hold the elastic in place. “The difference between a professional and an idiot nephew,” Nicholas decreed. The other guys all came back behind the cordon. The conceit for this picture was that we were all in a huddle. The guys on the team protested that huddles were more of a football thing than a soccer thing—something I did not know—but they relented when he explained the camera would be pointing up from underneath us in the middle, making us all look like giants. When the shoot was done, we all got dressed. James and Dave were happy to see us, and as we were about to leave the studio, Nicholas came up to me, lit a cigarette three feet from a No Smoking sign, and called out, “November.” I turned around instinctively. “Who represents you?” “Represents?” “Agent. Manager. Whoever got you this gig. You’re clearly a ringer.” “I’ve never done this before. I’m on the soccer team. Technically.” “That was your first nude photoshoot?” “That was my first photoshoot,” I corrected. He handed me his card. “If you ever want to take pictures like the one we almost took, I’d love to work with you again. This time, I’d pay you.” “You’re not hitting on me, are you?” I said. “My boyfriend …” Nicholas interrupted me. “Fuck no,” he said, flicking some ashes. “I have a wife and two mistresses. I need to take the photograph you deserve because I take photos of beautiful people. Who gives a fuck if they’re men or women? Beauty’s beauty. I would love to shoot beautiful you again. I could do a whole gallery show on you.” “Maybe,” I said, and the four of us left the studio. Once we were away from the art building, James asked, “When you thought he was hitting on you, were you tempted?” “Not even a little.” “He was hot,” James admitted. “The only thing hot about him is his beard,” I said, kissing James on the cheek. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” That was the moment James decided to grow a beard.
  6. Chapter 21 The soccer plan went without a hitch. I was actually impressed how well it worked. The stands were packed—mostly women there to ogle beautiful men in tight shirts and shorts. I was only in the game for fifteen seconds. The entire team, the coach, Dave, and James—everyone in on the conspiracy—were convinced I faked it when I tripped over that first kick. I didn’t. I simply missed and fell. The knee injury was completely fake, though. I’m just glad the audience stayed to watch the other guys play. By the end, according to Dave and Luke, the people in the stands were cheering for the game, and not just the hot guys. People quickly figured out that both me and the tweet had been a publicity stunt, but no one cared, least of all the newly-devoted soccer groupies. And for a few days after the soccer game, things basically went back to my new normal. There were some noteworthy distinctions. The biggest change was that now complete strangers recognized me. They weren’t just staring and pointing anymore. They would ask, “Are you the soccer tweet guy?” And I’d say yes. Most of the other changes were minor adjustments to what I thought of as “my new life.” The most obvious change was that James and Luke really ratcheted up my workouts. Our daily hourly workouts lengthened into alternating 90-minute workouts and two-hour workouts. One weird change happened that first Wednesday. Dave and I had chem lab on Wednesday afternoons, and it was the one place I was used to still fading into the background. However, when I put on my lab coat that first time after the soccer game, my chest was too big for me to button it shut. My chest jutted out of the top, and I got plenty of attention. By the Friday after the soccer game, I’d stopped tripping over myself and walking into doorways. I had to move with a bit more caution and with a lighter step than I was used to. James told me, “You look like a dancer when you walk.” I told him that I’d always thought the same thing about him. My favorite change was breakfast. When the four of us sat on the grass eating breakfast, it was no longer just Dave with his head in Luke’s lap; I almost always had my head in James’s lap. We tried it the other way around, but my cock liked it a little too much, and I kept poking him in the back of the head with my erection. Speaking of my footlong friend, my cock came with a flurry of surprising changes. I could no longer wear boxers; I burst out the front and down the side. So, I graduated to boxer briefs. Also, crossing my legs now required intense focus, or I would crush myself. And masturbating was now an aerobic workout. I wasn’t going to pressure James to do anything he wasn’t ready for, but my augmented testicles created a cocktail of hormones that demanded a certain amount of sexual release, an amount that was only going up as James and I grew closer. I realized right quick that I needed to schedule at least three masturbation sessions a day or there’d be hell to pay. The first session of the day was in the gym. As soon as our workouts were over, I would lock myself in the first available stall. Standing while facing the bowl, I would drop my shorts, and my cock, ever-ready, would meet my abs just above my navel. It was too thick for either hand to reach all the way around, but I needed them both to stroke the length. In the small space, my muscles fighting each other for room, pumped from a workout—this was easily the fastest of my daily sessions, especially with images flashed through my brain: James grunting as he squatted, James sweating through his shirt, James lifting objects still too heavy for me. As I was about to climax, I’d aim for the toilet and release my first, largest, and heaviest load of the day. I’d grit my teeth and clench my jaw to minimize my orgasmic bellows, but I was still vociferous. Every time I flushed, I would fear the load would clog the plumbing. But it never did, so I would leave the stall to shower and change. I needed another session before I did any schoolwork. I could make it through class okay, but being alone in my room, my mind would wander to my ever-growing body and my studly boyfriend, which made studying impossible without release. As Luke (and therefore Dave) was usually at practice this time of day, my second session was my most self-indulgent. I’d play loud music so no one could hear my grunts of exertion. In my room by myself, I’d use my right hand to stimulate the head of my cock while I used my left to play with my massive ass. This usually led in me impaling myself on as many fingers as I could fit, all the while pretending it was James filling me. I’d lean on the dorm room door and work myself over, teasing my ass, for up to a half hour. Eventually, I’d work myself into a frenzy and cum like a fire hydrant broken open in the summer, getting it all over myself and the floor. I had to buy heavy-duty stain remover, several air fresheners, and all new towels to keep up with the fantastic volume I produced. My final session of the day was in the shower before bed. If I didn’t release a load before going to sleep, I’d wake up in the middle of the night and have to jack off then. I thought of this more of a maintenance session than a pleasure session. I’d get the water nice and steamy, rub my cock along the muscles of my legs and abs until it got hard. I’d feel every square inch of my body until my cock fairly demanded for release. Then, I’d point it down the drain and fire. I couldn’t wait for James to be ready.
  7. Chapter 20 Since I was only nominally on the soccer team, I was excused from practice. James and I decided to have our first proper date that night. I didn’t want to be around crowds because the tweet had made me a local celebrity. That’s too much attention for a first date, so I suggested a dark, quiet restaurant. James was too nervous to eat, so restaurants were out. Ultimately, we decided to walk to the empty field behind the administration building and just looked up at the stars. James laid a blanket on the grass, and we sat down facing each other, a little awkward in our solitude. “We’re making the transition from friends to more than friends,” I started, “so I want to get some things out in the open before they fester.” James agreed. “Why did you shout for me to strip at the soccer tryout today?” I asked. “You knew that was me?” “Of course.” “Oh. I didn’t… I thought… Because of the crowd…” He didn’t finish any of his sentences. “I’m not mad or embarrassed. I just want to know why you did it.” James shrugged. “I need more than that, James.” “I have trouble talking around you,” he admitted. “I know. And that’s going to have to end if we’re going to do this.” He looked down, breathed deeply, and answered. “I wanted to see you shirtless. In public. In front of everyone. I was hoping you’d strip completely naked, actually.” He paused, looked back up then added, “I told you I have ungentlemanly thoughts about you.” “Okay. Good. We’re making progress. Here’s where that confuses me. I know you want this to be just you and just me, and I do too, so are you really okay with things like Dave’s tweet or the soccer calendar?” “Part of what I like about you, especially this new you, is that other guys want you.” He pulled out his phone to show me that his wallpaper was Dave’s thirst tweet. “And I’ve already pre-ordered two copies of the calendar. Guys desiring you makes me want you more. They all long for you, but I get you. Even when we were only friends, that made me feel special. Other guys wanted your company, but you gave it to me. Now, other guys want your romantic company, and you’re giving it to me.” “So, even though you sunbathe fully clothed, you’re fine with me being naked in public.” James nodded. “I don’t like a lot of attention.” “Then why lift all those weights? Why get so huge? That attracts attention.” James faltered. “Dave said you got as buff as you are just to impress me. Is that true?” Without hesitation, James said, “Yes. I didn’t want a lot of attention, but I wanted yours. I never thought I would be this big, but I saw the way you looked at big guys, and I wanted you to look at me that way.” “I did, but usually when you weren’t looking,” I admitted “What else did Dave say about me?” I told him Dave’s account of our four-year friendship and asked if it was true. James agreed almost entirely. “That story only has a few flaws. Especially because it doesn’t go back far enough,” James said. “I always knew you were gay. The first time I saw you was at the Welcome Freshman Dance at the LGBT center. I was there that night too. When I saw you, I hid. You have this presence, this magnetism, this charisma that is so intense that, that first time I saw you, I ran. I wasn’t out in high school. I was too scared. It took every ounce of courage I had to even go to the dance. You, though, shined with self-assuredness. “You were there with these two guys. I know now that they’re Dave and Luke, just close friends, but that night, I was sure one of them was your boyfriend. Maybe both of them. So, I stayed hidden. “No one else noticed you at first. Everyone else was talking about how hot the jock was or how stunning the actor was. But then they noticed you. Then everyone was talking about you. They asked who was this skinny nothing guy dancing with those two hot freshmen. It’s like no one thought you were worthy of attention, but you were all they could look at or talk about. “But it didn’t get to you. You owned the dance floor. You were having a blast. In the span of an hour, you eclipsed Luke and Dave. Everyone—well, everyone except me—thought those two were the hottest people at the dance, and you stole the spotlight. “If all that attention had turned on me, I would’ve shrunken away and died. You just shined brighter. “I knew right then and there that I had to be in your life. It took me a month to get up the nerve to talk to you. I kept trying to talk to you, but I kept chickening out. I felt like a stalker. I might have actually been a stalker.” It was the most I had ever head James talk in the four years I’d known him. I wondered if this was the James that Dave and Luke saw when I wasn’t there. “You weren’t a stalker. You were magic.” “If either of us was magic,” James said, a golden twinkle in his violet eyes, “it was you. I’ve never met a guy who made me feel like you.” After that, we just lay there for a while, lying side by side, talking and staring at the stars. Soon, though, my head was on his shoulder. Then his arm was around my neck, his hand lazily stroking my chest. Then my arm was under his back, pulling him into me. Then we were kissing, quietly and passionately under the stars.
  8. Chapter 19 The four of us walked over to the athletic center together. In the lobby, Dave kissed Luke goodbye, and I James. Luke and I went to the locker room. The jock strap was now noticeably too small, but it would suffice. While I changed into the outfit provided me— “Uniform,” Luke corrected—Luke tried to psych me up. He really wanted me on this team and in this calendar. It suddenly occurred to me. “The calendar!” I shouted. “What about it?” Luke asked. “James,” I said. “What about him?” “He wants our relationship to be just him and just me. Does that mean that I can’t be in the calendar?” “It’s not his decision if you do the calendar. It’s yours.” “I know that. But I wouldn’t do the calendar if it makes him mad or envious or something. The relationship’s too new.” “Other guys are gonna find you hot, buddy.” I looked at the shirt Luke had given to me as it did its best to contain my mass. “I can see that. But that doesn’t mean I have to publish nude photographs. There is a middle ground.” Luke set his mouth; he was thinking. “Let’s see if you make the team first. If you don’t make the team, it doesn’t matter.” My fears assuaged, we went to the field. There was a crowd in the stands. It wasn’t just our boyfriends and the soccer team who showed up. Every guy I’d slept with this past month, my fans from the gym, nearly every male member of the school’s LGBT club were in the stands, and at least fifty women. Luke took off his sunglasses to take it all in. “What’s going on?” I asked Luke. He ran over to the stands, exchanged a few words with Dave, and came back shaking his head. “Dave tweeted that you would be trying out for soccer this afternoon, inviting everyone to come and watch. He attached a picture of you in that red shirt from this morning.” I assumed Luke had seen them all already, so I asked, “Was it the one where the desk was sticking up?” “No, or there’d be more people here.” The coach was a short, solidly built man. He had clearly been an impressive athlete in his day, and he fought to stay just as impressive. The only things that betrayed his age were the crows-feet at his eyes and the patches of grey at his temples. He blew his whistle and gestured for me to come over to him. “Is this some kind of stunt, young man?” “No, sir.” “Why are all these people here?” Luke interjected before I could speak. “Dave invited them. I’m sorry.” The coach nodded. He looked like he was going to say more, but he stopped himself. The tryout was so short considering all the practice I put in. I was impressed how far I kicked the ball, but I tripped three times over my own legs. When I fell the third time, my shirt tore. It had been too tight to begin with, and I had to flex my pecs to push myself back up. The tip of the V in the neck tore down, revealing some of my pecs to the sun. The crowd cheered for that. But the tryout overall went very, very poorly. With my new bulk, I was slower than the day before. With my fuller package, I had worse aim than the day before. With my increased strength, I had less control than the day before. When it ended, the crowd shouted out encouraging statements like, “You did your best!” and “We still love you!” One voice, clear as a bell, shouted, “Take it off!” It was James. I was so caught by surprise that I did it; I tore my shirt right down the middle and stripped it off. That caused a standing ovation. I heard James cry out again, an inarticulate sound of joy. He’d be okay with the calendar. The coach asked me to come into his office. I guess he didn’t want to tell me I didn’t make the team in front of a boisterous crowd. He sat me down, still shirtless, across his desk from him. “You don’t want to play soccer, do you, son?” I sighed. “No, sir, I do not.” “Then why in the fuck are you trying out for a soccer team?” “Luke. He wanted me on the team so we could hang out some more and so we’d be in the calendar together.” “That fucking calendar.” The coach paused a little before he continued. “The crowd certainly loved you.” “I’m sorry for the commotion. I had nothing to do with that.” “That’s not true. They made a damn ruckus over you.” “But I didn’t invite…” He cut me off. “You’re missing my point. If I put you in a game, d’you think they’d come to see a game?” “Well…” I hemmed and hawed. “Don’t be humble, son.” “Yes. Definitely.” Then, as an afterthought, I added, “Especially if you put me in a tight uniform and let Dave tweet about it.” “Dave? The actor guy Luke’s always bringing around the athletic center?” “His boyfriend, yes. Dave sent a tweet this morning, and that’s why so many people came.” “He sent a tweet this morning?” “Yes.” “Just one?” “As far as I know.” “One tweet this morning.” The coach leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the desk. “I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.” I shook my head. “I don’t follow.” “Attendance at soccer games is down. All the way fucking down. There were more people in the stands for your tryout than there were at the last game.” I’d been to a few games, so I knew the stands weren’t typically crowded, but the coach said it at me like an accusation. “I’m sorry.” “I’m not asking for an apology. It just never dawned on me that women and gayfolk would come to hoot and holler at a soccer player.” “The soccer team has the hottest men on campus,” I said bluntly. “It’s why the car wash was a success last year.” The coach chuckled; he’d never thought of marketing his boys that way. “If you can guarantee that they’d show up for a soccer game, I’ll put you in. We’ll have you take the kickoff or something. Something that puts you front and center.” “Why would you do that? You saw how many times I fell today.” “Yeah I did. It’s a good thing, too, ‘cause now everyone will fucking believe it when you do it on purpose tomorrow.” “I’m lost.” “You get the crowd here, you pretend to injure yourself, you’re out of the game. Everyone else will see the rest of my boys play, suddenly we have an audience again and we start selling tickets again. Even if they only come to stare at my boys, they have to buy a fucking ticket.” “You care that much about ticket sales?” “My job cares that much about ticket sales. The school doesn’t care that we’re having a fucking championship season if no one’s buying tickets to see it.” I nodded, finally understanding his position. “You can still be in the calendar, ‘cause you’re on the team,” he put air quotes around the words “on the team.” “What do you want out of this deal?” he asked. I shrugged. “Can you get me an extension on my philosophy paper?” The coach laughed so loudly that he burst into a coughing fit. “Yeah. I reckon I can do that for you.” He extended his hand to shake it. “Welcome to the team.” When I walked out of the coach’s office, Luke was there waiting for me. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I thought you’d make the team no problem.” “I did make the team.” “Ha ha, very funny,” Luke said, dripping with sarcasm. “You got me.” I told him the coach’s plan. When I finished, he ran to the coach’s office to confirm. As soon as he was convinced that I was telling the truth, we went back to the locker room to tell everyone. The team thought it was an excellent idea. They too had been worried about low ticket sales because it would mean future budget cuts. It’s one of the reasons they wanted the calendar to be a big seller—spread word of mouth about the soccer team. They even sounded flattered by the coach’s plan. Dave’s right; they are preening peacocks. The team got me a new soccer jersey, even smaller than the last jersey. If I lifted my arms even slightly, my bottom two abs would be completely exposed. Once I was dressed, they called Dave and James into the locker room. When they heard the plan, James nodded emphatically. “I’d buy a ticket.” Dave whipped out his phone and said, “I’ve been training for this moment all my life. Let’s do this now.” He looked around the room for a suitable venue. “Stand over there,” he said, pointing at a patch of sunlight. I went over dutifully. When he saw how ill-fittingly small my shirt was, he grabbed the nearest soccer ball and tossed it to me. “Hold that behind your head like you’re tossing it into play.” I obeyed, fully expecting my shirt to ride up. Dave, however, had an eye for this sort of thing and knew how the shirt would affect this specific pose. My arms couldn’t extend their full length because the sleeves were too narrow, so my shoulders rounded up, my biceps tickled my ears, and my pecs rose in an attempt to meet my chin. “Something’s still not right,” Dave said. I put my arms down while Dave pondered. Soon, inspiration struck him, and he whispered into James’s ear. James grew a devious smile and strutted over to me. He stood behind me and kissed the back of my neck gently and slowly. He ran his hands up and down my sides, delicately stroking my abs. His pecs pressed into my back. My shorts grew even tighter as my cock woke up and tried to stretch to its full length. “Thank you, James,” Dave announced. With that, James stepped out of frame. “Arms up,” Dave ordered. Once I was back in the previous pose, Dave snapped the picture, and I relaxed. He showed the picture to the group, and I have to admit, I had never looked sexier in my life. The sunlight even cast a shadow on my shorts that made my bulge look more extreme than it was. Dave pretended to brush an errant strand of hair out of his eyes and said, “I minored in thirst traps.” The tweet announcing that I was now on the soccer team went viral, at least in our corner of the woods. It was retweeted thousands of times in the first two hours alone.
  9. Chapter 18 I woke up the next morning feeling like the night before had been a fairy tale or a dream, but the real world soon reminded me of my very visceral reality. My gigantic morning wood stuck up obscenely. When I went to roll out of my bed, I nearly crushed my nuts between my humongous thighs, and when I stood up, I hit the floor with a loud thud, unused to my weight. I was delighted to see an oversized robe with a note pinned to it in Dave’s handwriting. It said, “Bought you a new closetful of clothes because we knew you’d say yes. The fashion choices are a little scarcer at your sizes, but I recommend the burgundy turtleneck and the black slacks for chem lecture today.” I quickly took care of my morning ablutions because I knew I would need more time this morning to break off my social engagements. And to dress. The pants were just a little to tight around my ass and crotch, but the waist was perfect, thankfully. You could tell I had a monster in my pants, but it was all contained. The shirt, which looked red to me, showed everything. It was a long sleeve turtleneck that looked way too small, but it kept stretching, and stretching, and stretching, until it was completely on. Somehow, it felt equally tight on my shoulders, chest, and arms while still feeling smooth and soft to the touch. The fit was surprisingly risqué. My nipples were front and center, and I could see every single one of my abs through the shirt. I was going to turn heads in this shirt. Before I left my room, I went through my phone and texted every guy who might expect a hookup in the near future. It didn’t feel like that many guys when I started, but, somehow, I’d become promiscuous this past month. I knew it was tacky to do this over text, but I consoled myself by tailoring each text to each guy, showing each he was unique. When I sent the final text, I was shocked to find I might be late to class. I wanted to run to make up the lost time, but even walking was surprisingly difficult. My legs had to negotiate around my legs, so I had a slight swagger to my walk. And I grazed three different door frames because I just went further out than I thought I did. It was going to be another adjustment period. I was usually the first person in chemistry, but because of how long everything took that morning, the room was mostly full. Dave was in his usual seat in the front row. When he saw me, he stood and applauded. Everyone turned to see what he was applauding, and when they saw me in my new clothes (and my new body) some other people joined in. One whistled. I bowed and took my seat next to Dave. Dave’s eyes were glued to my crotch. “My boyfriend is a greedy man,” he said. “He didn’t tell me he was going to super-size junior, or I would have bought you pants with more room in the front.” After a pause, he added under his breath, “I would have had to special order them.” Taking notes in chem lecture was an obstacle course. The chairs in the classroom had pillar desks, those desks on hinges that can swing up and over to hold your books. Mine was too small for my notebook and my forearm. Then, I had to lean forward to see all of my notes over my pecs, and my bicep kept bumping into other parts of my body as I moved my pen. Every time I shifted position in my seat, my chest bounced and heaved. The whole thing was so erotic that I began to tent in my pants, which pushed the desk up, causing everything to slowly slide off the top. I was becoming an impediment to my own education. At one point, I thought Dave was looking over at my notebook to see what I was writing, but he was filming me with his cell phone. I really hoped the video was only for him and Luke and that he didn’t post it on Pornhub or something like that. When class got out, Dave and I walked to the cart to get breakfast. He was under strict orders to make sure I had a healthy breakfast, especially because I’d skipped our group workout that morning. At one point in the conversation, Dave said, “Victor’s going to flip over your new muscles.” “Victor may,” I said, “but I don’t think that matters.” “And pray tell why not?” “James.” “What about James?” “He didn’t tell you this morning?” “He didn’t show up either. You were both no-shows.” I told Dave about the conversation James and I had the prior night. Shocked, Dave turned to me and stopped me in my tracks. “Really? You and James? After a ménage a trois with me and my boyfriend, you and James started dating last night. And you waited until after chemistry to tell me?” I nodded. “Finally!” Before Dave could stop himself, he’d thrown himself around me in a hug. “There is so much more of you to hug,” he added, gripping the muscles of my upper back. I pushed him away. “I think Luke and James would prefer this hug ended.” “Right. Right,” Dave said. “And what do you mean ‘Finally’?” “James is in love with you.” There was no sarcasm or humor in his voice; it was flat and affectless. “No, he isn’t. He had a crush.” “James is in love with you,” Dave insisted. Desperately needing more information, I pulled Dave out of the walkway into the shady corner of a building and threw him up against the wall. I guess I pulled with more force than I needed to because Dave was wobbling when I let go. “Thank you, sir. Can I have another?” he quipped. “What do you mean James is in love with me?” “He always has been. I thought you knew.” He paused, and a devilish light took his eyes. “You didn’t know. I knew you were naïve, but not clueless.” “How do you know this?” “Do you need a refresher course in the history of James and Chris? Okay. You and Luke have known each other forever, the three of us met at the LGBT center Welcome Freshman Dance. We didn’t meet James for a month after that. Right? We were the three musketeers for a while. Pop quiz. How did we meet James?” “He randomly sat next to us at lunch one Monday, and he just did that every day for a week, and so we adopted him because it seemed like he didn’t have any other friends.” “What a weird and uncharitable way to remember that.” “How do you remember it?” “James sat down next to you. Always next to you. Back when Luke and I weren’t dating, we didn’t have assigned seats, and James always sat next to you. I tried to sit next to you once that first week, and James poked me in the back of the head with his tray until I moved. And when you asked him why he didn’t sit with his friends, he said he’d rather sit next to you.” “That doesn’t mean…” “He eats out of bowls because you used to make him so nervous that he’d stumble. He broke two plates that first week. They didn’t even make it to the table. Unlike the plates, the bowls in the cafeteria are plastic. He can’t break those. He kept the bit up all these years because it makes you laugh. He really likes making you laugh. That’s why he makes jokes about toast donuts, on the off-chance you’ll find them funny.” “That’s why he eats out of bowls?” “He followed you around like a puppy all freshman year. And when he learned that you were gay, he tried to come out to you too, but he got all tongue-tied. He still gets tongue-tied around you. When you’re not around, he’s actually quite witty and eloquent. Still weird, but witty and eloquent about it.” “James?” “Sometimes he acts like he doesn’t see you or recognize you just to see how long it takes you to talk to him.” “Seriously?” “How could you not know any of this? When he found out you like bigger guys, he began lifting weights like a maniac. Cause and effect. I mean, he was always buff, but he got bodybuilder big for you.” “I thought he was doing that for him.” “I always thought you two had some kind of arrangement.” Dave went back to the path, and I followed. We resumed our trip to the cart. When we got there, Dave went to get our breakfasts. I made a beeline to James, who was waiting at our usual picnic table with Luke. The grass was still wet from last night. When he saw me coming, he broke out into a big beaming smile and waved. He attempted to stand up to greet me, but his feet got tangled in the picnic table, and he fell face first onto its surface. I rushed over as quick as I could and put my hands on either side of his face. He looked up, and I kissed him softly. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” he said. Luke raised an eyebrow quizzically. “What’s this?” he asked. “James and I started dating last night,” I said matter-of-factly. James blushed a deep red. Excited by the news, Luke shouted, “Finally!” and celebratorily punched me in the shoulder. “Ow,” he added, shaking his fist in pain. James cozied up to me at breakfast, my arm over his shoulders the whole time. I felt so comfortable and so at peace, I’d almost forgotten I was trying out for the soccer team that afternoon.
  10. Chapter 17 By the time I got back to the locker room, Luke and Dave were gone. Instead, I found my shoes on a bench next to a neatly folded stack of clothes. On top of the clothes were the keys for the athletic center, my room key, and my cell phone. My phone screen was glowing: I’d missed texts. They were all from Luke. He explained that he was spending the night at Dave’s so I could get a good night’s sleep. Also, Dave wanted to be genuinely surprised when he saw me in class tomorrow. The clothes on the bench were of a bigger size and would fit me. He ended by reminding me to lock the front door behind me. Luke’s spelling was atrocious. I went over to the mirrors in the locker room and stood in awe. The first thing I saw was my face. It looked fuller and thicker. My cheekbones stuck out like harsh cliffs; my jaw and chin looked more intense and powerful, leading down to a thick neck and thicker traps. Even my eyebrow ridge looked more muscular, somehow. It was still unmistakably my face, but my face from my wettest dreams. I looked down to the rest of my form. I was getting beastly. With all my new bulk, my waist demanded my attention. It looked somehow both petite and mighty. My abs were deep grooves in my torso, and I was pleased to discover that now I had my own Adonis belt. My shoulders were so wide that I couldn’t keep them both in the mirror at the same time. My arms had gotten so huge that they looked flexed, each with a thick vein running its length, even when perfectly relaxed. But, then again, they couldn’t stay perfectly relaxed because my back, a part of my body I seldom thought about, had gotten so wide that I could see it from the front. My muscles were a paradox. My legs were a surprise. Still tired from their day of exercise, the growth had hit them extra hard. My calves stood out like angry outcrops, shaped like upside-down hearts. My thighs would never be separate again. They pressed slightly into each other, shoving my cock forward. And, oh, what a cock. I was never much of a grower, so even before my cock started to grow, I was used to being larger-than-average even soft. Now that I proudly sported a 12-inch erection, it was longer and thicker soft than I used to be hard. And my balls had seemingly doubled in size from a month ago. I could barely hold both in one hand at the same time. They were like plums. I had to get dressed or I’d never leave this mirror. The shorts looked a size or two too big for me. That is, until I tried to put them on. They clung to my thighs so tightly that I had to shimmy each leg up individually. My ass at its new volume was also a challenge. I needed to guide each cheek in, one at a time. My ass was too big to just pull up my pants. From now on, every time I put on underwear or pants or anything that had to be pulled up, I’d have to stop at my ass and coax each cheek in before continuing. The same was true of my balls. I had to put each of my nuts into the short one at a time. Each one took both hands: one to hold open the shorts, one to maneuver the ball into the fabric. Before I had my shaft into my shorts, my shorts were already overfull. My ass stuck out behind me, my balls in front. I did my best to cram my cock in there too, but it ended up sticking to the side, hugging my hip, obvious through the fabric. The waist of the shorts proved to be a challenge too. It was too big. I’d barely gotten my legs, ass, and cock in, but my waist wasn’t thick enough to support the elastic, so it sagged in the front, my cock threatening to spill back out. I then realized I would have to hold my phone and keys because my shorts were too tight. There was no room in the pockets. The shirt, a normal t-shirt thankfully, also stymied me. I was used to putting both arms in through the arm holes and then pulling down, a procedure that took five seconds. I was now too big to dress quickly. I had to put one arm in first, making sure the sleeve hooked on my shoulder or it would slide right back off. Then, I put my head through the head hole, the fabric bunching around my neck. Then, I had to wrangle my other arm up and through the fabric and out the arm hole. Only then could I inch the shirt over my pecs, one side then the other, a little at a time, back and forth like a broken Venetian blind. After all of that, I had to rearrange the sleeves to make sure they were facing the right direction so I didn’t cut off circulation. It took me forever to get dressed. When I went to put my shoes on, I couldn’t. My feet had gotten too muscular for my shoes. My feet were too buff for my own shoes. I abandoned them to the locker room. Some lesser-footed man would benefit from my largesse. I was walking home barefoot. I got to the front door as it started to rain. What force in the universe wanted me to be wet today? I’d taken multiple showers, sweated through three shirts, and soaked in a hot tub. It seemed almost comic it was going to rain on the way home. I locked the athletic center door behind me and tugged on the handle to make sure it was secure. When I turned around, I almost crashed into James. He was standing there wearing his messenger bag and holding an umbrella. “James. What brings you here?” He held up my wallet. “You left this at the cafeteria.” He flipped it open to my driver’s license and examined my picture. “At least, I think it’s you. The you in this photo doesn’t look like the you who’s you. The you who’s you looks like you’re two of the you in this photo.” “Thanks, James,” I said, taking my wallet. James opened the flap of his bag. “You can put your stuff in here,” he offered. I loved the way the strap got caught between his pecs, clearly separating them into distinct mounds. At this proximity, I could tell he was still bigger than me, which was oddly comforting. But he wasn’t bigger by much anymore. “Thanks again,” I said, depositing my belongings. I noticed that his shoes were in his bag. I looked down at his bare feet and asked, “Since you’re not wearing your shoes, can I?” “Why would you want to wear shoes when we can walk home barefoot through the grass?” “Why indeed?” I asked. He offered me room under his umbrella, and we began to walk back to the dorm. We walked slowly, deliberately. We were quite a sight: two large men trying to fit under the same umbrella. We ended up practically on top of each other as we made our way across campus. Despite our hindered pace, we took every opportunity to walk through puddles and kick small bushes. When we got back to the dorm, I stood under the overhang as James closed and shook his umbrella out. When he was satisfied, he turned around and asked, “Is it my turn?” “Pardon?” “Is it my turn?” “Turn for what?” “Well, Luke and Dave have been talking for days about their plans for tonight. And you’ve been dating about 15 guys this month. And I’m just wondering if it’s my turn.” I stood silently. “I’ve wanted to ask you out since freshman year. But I was so afraid of ruining our friendship that I never acted on it. Never. And I’ve really wanted to. And now you’ve just slept with your closest friend, and it doesn’t look like it ruined that friendship. And you’re getting hotter and sexier. And bigger. And if I don’t speak soon, I’ll never have my chance. And…” I interrupted James by kissing him fully and deeply, practically cutting off his air. James took a step back, surprised. “You mean?” “Yes.” “I want to be clear. I don’t want to be just one of the many. I want just you, and just me.” “That sounds fine by me.” “Okay, then.” He said, nodding and taking out his ID card. “Do you want to come up to my room?” The question excited James so much he missed the card swiper. “Yes.” He paused. “But no.” He paused again. “But yes.” Another pause. “But no. But yes.” “I get it,” I said. “It’s too soon.” “You have to tell the other guys that it’s just you and just me.” I nodded. “And before we…” he couldn’t finish the sentence. “Go to my room,” I suggested. “Yes! Before we go to your room, you should know that I’ve never been in anyone’s room before.” Quickly he added, “Or had anyone in my room.” “Never?” “Never,” he confirmed. “Okay,” I said. “We’ll take it slow.” James swiped the card, and we walked the rest of the way to my room silently. When we got to the door, he bid me goodnight with a kiss on the cheek.
  11. Chapter 16 The idea of being bigger than Luke caused my somewhat deflated cock to become so erect the tip threatened to break the surface of the water. “I can see you like the idea,” Dave said. Looking directly at me, he put his hands on the wall behind him, and pulled himself out of the tub. A small sheet of water fell from his chest, over his cock, and splashed down on the tile floor. “Where are you going?” I asked. “Somebody’s got to distract Al so your secret doesn’t get out, Chrissy,” Dave said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Dave put his hand on his hip and a pivoted his cock forward. “Give me five minutes before you start round two.” He spun around so his back was to us and said, “Feel free to stare at my ass as I leave.” As he sauntered out of the room, every sway of his body oozed sex. When he reached the door, he added, “Have fun.” When the door closed behind Dave, Luke got out of the tub and walked over to a stack of towels by the wall. With a sideways nod, he beckoned me to join him. Whatever he had in mind, we were doing it outside the hot tub. I walked over to the towels, my fully erect cock bobbing in the air as I walked. I grabbed a towel and began drying off. “What is he doing to distract Al?” I asked, unsure how to fill the five minutes. “He didn’t tell me,” Luke confessed, “but I think he’ll hide our clothes, then walk to the security desk buck naked and ask Al to help him find his clothes.” “How will we know when the coast is clear?” I asked. Luke briefly pointed to the far corner of the ceiling. In the distance, I could see a small red light. “When the security camera goes out.” “How will he know when we’re done?” “When I go and find him.” There was a beauty in its simplicity. I didn’t know how to broach the subject, so I just blurted, “How big are you going to make me?” “Well, I’ve slimmed down this past month because of soccer and the calendar. I’m a svelte 166.” “That doesn’t exactly answer my question.” “I’ve talked to some of your conquests, buddy. They tell me you like to hold a guy up against wall and fuck him standing.” Luke wrapped himself in his towel and sat on a bench. “It is my favorite, yes,” I confirmed He folded his arms across his chest, puffing his pecs up bigger, and stuck his legs out to take up as much space as possible. “How big do you need to get to do that to me?” I balked. “I’ve been running you ragged today, so you should factor that in.” “175,” I said wrapping the towel around my waist. I was pretty sure I could handle him at that point. “So small?” Luke sounded disappointed. “I was hoping for bigger.” “Bigger?” I asked. “How much bigger?” “I was thinking as big as James.” “James big? As in, as big as James? He’s huge. The last time he weighed himself at the gym, he broke 200.” A tent formed in the front of Luke’s towel. “I’m not ready to be James big,” I said truthfully. “Didn’t think you would be. How about we split the difference?” “185?” “195,” Luke counter-offered. “190 is as high as I will go,” I said. Luke stood up and dropped his towel. He pointed to the back corner of the room again. The red light was out. Luke ripped my towel off my waist and pulled me closer to him. He put his right hand on my shoulder. “Are you ready?” I wasn’t entirely sure, but I nodded. “Good, because I can’t wait any longer, Big Guy.” For the first time in a month, I felt my body surge larger. As every part of my body thickened, a pleasure as intense as my recent orgasm flooded my mind. Luke took in my growth with a hungry look in his eye. “That is so hot, Big Guy.” I was just coming down from the last euphoric high as my brain lit up again with new pleasure. My breath was a little short as my body continued swelling outwards. Luke had to open his hand a little wider as my shoulder expanded. I had to widen my stance just a little bit to make more room for my legs. “Tell me if you need to stop, Big Guy,” Luke said, and I was blasted with another wave of bliss dancing through my nerve endings. The erotic sensation was so intense, my head lolled to the side. I was surprised to find that my neck was thicker, and my ear met my shoulder sooner than it should have. “We’re about the same weight now,” Luke said. I was too into my own transformation to dispute his math. “Then we’re not done, are we?” I asked from my stupor. “Okay, Big Guy. Want it a little faster, Big Guy? I can do that for you, Big Guy.” Three blasts of lightning rocketed through my body. My toes curled, my hands clenched and unclenched. I could feel my arms being pushed further away from my body as my back grew, and I could feel my lats being constricted as my biceps grew. Luke opened his hand even wider. I widened my stance again; my thighs were uncomfortably close. Doing so allowed me to feel how thick and weighty my ass had become. My cock throbbed and shook. I had never felt anything so intense in my life. “Just two more, Big Guy. Then you’ll be ready for me, Big Guy.” Two more eruptions shot through me. I could swear I was orgasming, but nothing came out of my cock. I grew harder, firmer, denser. My body progressed outwards. I could easily see my shoulders without turning my head. My neck felt thicker. I looked down and saw my pecs heaving off my chest. They were beginning to block my view, and my nipples had grown slightly larger and seemed so far away from my body. My arms were hanging off my sides at odd angles, swollen with flesh and power. I’d never been aware of my triceps, and now they were big enough to fight my lats for space, my biceps pushed obscenely forward. My back was so wide I felt I’d grown wings, and it narrowed down to my tiny waist. It had grown, but it was still incredibly small. Each muscle of my six-pack was discrete and thick as a deck of playing cards. Two more muscles were showing the faintest hint of graduating me to an eight-pack. My thighs pressed together no matter how I stood. They seemed thicker than my waist. I reached around to feel my ass, and it was as though there were two spheres of steel, yet velvety and warm, protruding from my body. I could feel my calves had grown and hardened, thick with power. Even my feet felt more muscular. I felt powerful. I felt heavy. I felt mammoth. Luke began feeling me up, comparing our chests, our shoulders, our waists. I remember when Luke felt impossibly huge. Now, even though he was taller, I extended past him in every other dimension. My chest stood out further, my shoulders broader, my arms thicker, my legs more powerful. My waist, somehow, significantly smaller. “You are beautiful,” he said in awe. With a cocky grin, I wrapped one arm around Luke’s waist and lifted him up. “I hear you like your guys big.” Luke smiled in unfettered delight. “One arm? You picked me up with one arm?” Luke’s cock tried to press itself into my bicep, but my muscle was unrelenting. “Holy fuck!” I took three steps and pinned him to the wall four or five inches off the ground. Luke fought against it, testing his limits. But I did not budge. When he realized he was powerless to escape, he growled, “Fuck me.” “That’s the idea,” I told him. With my free hand, I lined up my cock with his asshole, and with no further prelude, I slammed my full length into him. Luke’s body shook with orgasm as his hands fumbled to find purchase in my musculature, but it would not give. I gave him a moment to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he looked me square in the eyes and ordered, “Don’t stop.” Delighted the fun wasn’t over, I began pistoning him up and down on my cock. “Harder!” he screamed through gritted teeth. I fucked him harder. “Flex!” He commanded. I flexed my free arm, my bicep rounding out into mountainous proportions. At the same time, I flexed my chest as hard as I could, and it bulged outward, pushing him further into the wall. His jaw dropped open and two high pitched moans escaped. I was talking dirty without words. The head of my cock was starting to swell; I could tell orgasm was coming soon. “Not yet, buddy,” Luke said sternly. “The ride’s not over yet.” I’d past the point of no return and kept plowing ahead, but Luke shook his head. “You’ll do as I say.” He clenched his ass so tightly that I couldn’t pull in or out. I fought him for a second, but Luke held firm. As I bucked futilely, he steadied me. “Heel.” My face was turning red from the exertion and delayed orgasm. I fought again. I had already overpowered him once; I could do it again. But Luke’s grip on my cock was unbreakable. His voice grew sterner. “Heel!” I nodded. “That’s more like it, Big Guy.” A sound that was half-roar half-growl escaped from my chest as my imprisoned cock drove an inch further into Luke’s ass. This close to orgasm, the intensity of the growth just pushed me closer to the edge. There was no release. Luke writhed in pleasure as my cock surged wider and thicker, filling his ass further than any other man ever had. But he still did not unclench. I struggled, pushing in and pulling out the little bit I could with rapid succession. The friction between my cock and his ass was inhuman. His breath was starting to catch in his chest, but he would not relent. From his position above me, Luke looked down and said, “I think we both deserve a footlong, don’t you?” I said nothing. I just wanted to orgasm. “What do you say?” I fought him again, and he fought against his own shuddering prostate. He would not cede. “What do you say?” I nodded. “Right answer, Big Guy.” Luke unclenched his ass, and my dick extended another inch, becoming thicker than I knew a cock could be. Luke was in the throes of his orgasm, pressing his head against the wall, his eyes closed so tightly tears formed in the corners. Right as he released, my cockhead burst forth a river of cum so large and thick that it seeped past the base of my shaft and rained to the floor, pooling in a puddle of surprising volume, especially since half of it was still inside Luke. I put Luke down and collapsed to the floor to recover. Even just lying on the floor, my body felt huge. My lower back was held an inch above the tile by my ass, my shoulders covered half the distance between the wall and the hot tub, and my giant dick stuck straight up into the air like a spire. Luke offered a hand to help me up. When I was on my feet, he handed me a towel to wipe his cum off my arm and clapped his hand on my shoulder in his usual friendly way. “That was fucking awesome. Whoever you end up with is a lucky man.” I hadn’t quite reached words yet, but I smiled to acknowledge the compliment. Luke bent over, picked up his sunglasses, and put them on. As he walked to the door, he slapped my ass. “I remember you liked that,” he joked. I stopped him before he left. “Don’t we have to clean up?” He dismissed me with a hand gesture. “Al would get mad at me if we did.” I made some small sound of understanding. “Let’s go find my boyfriend,” he said. “I don’t have another go in me.” “Me neither. Besides, you got a soccer tryout tomorrow.”
  12. Chapter 15 Something felt so right, so natural, about being with Luke and Dave. I could feel their love for each other radiating heat. But I wasn’t just a prop in their sex; they wanted me there. Their affection for me, though different from their connection, was as palpable as Luke’s chest or Dave’s cock—up front and ever-present. Through a dark, windowless room lit only by security lights and the glow coming from the hot tub itself, they led me into the water, the three of us almost moving as one body. Mist and liquid swirled around us as we fell into a comfortable position. Luke sat with his back against the wall of the hot tub, his legs stretching forward. I was on top of him, face to face, his sunglasses periodically releasing chilling drops as steam condensed on their glassy finish. I was intensely kissing his mouth, his chin, his neck, his shoulders. My right hand explored his defined arm and smooth pecs. Our stiff cocks collided into each other, trapped between our hard abs. Dave was behind me, kissing the top of my shoulder. His left arm reached around to stroke my pec, his pinky circling my nipple. His right arm reached past me to lovingly stroke the back of Luke’s head. My left hand reached back behind me to run my fingers through Dave’s hair. I could feel Dave’s coarse chest hair, slick with water, scrape along my shoulder blades, his erect and impressive dick press into the small of my back just above my ass. We stayed interlocked like that, a tangle of bodies, for a seeming eternity until I felt Dave slip into my ass with surprising swiftness, spreading it further than it ever had. The water lubricated its passage, and soon, Dave was fully inside me. I put up no resistance and let out a low moan. He stopped kissing me for a second to whisper in my ear. “Don’t be shy.” Needing no further prompt, I tried to line the tip of my cock with Luke’s hole. The current fought me, dragging my length one way and then another, gently pulling on my cock like an invisible hand. In the thickness of the water, I had an unwieldy beast, so I stopped kissing to focus on my ten inches, needing both hands to steady it. A wide smile spread across Luke’s face as he leaned back in anticipation. Once I had my cock aimed properly, I pushed a few inches in gently. Luke’s ass was firm and warm, a tight fit, but pliant and welcoming. Luke sat up just a little. “You can do better than that, buddy,” he encouraged. Taking my cue, I rammed my full length into his waiting ass. “Holy shit!” he screamed. His whole body tensed, and his face froze in a rictus of pleasure. He took off his sunglass and placed them to the side of the hot tub. Tendrils of steam curled around his head. “I knew you had it in you.” “And now it’s in you,” I added. I wrapped both arms around Luke for support, Dave braced his arms on the wall on either side of Luke’s shoulders, and the dance began. We slowly found a rhythm, Dave thrusting into me, me thrusting into Luke, Luke thrusting in and out in contrapuntal movement. As soon as the three of us reached a steady, metronomic interval, Luke said one word. “Faster.” Dave and I picked up our speed, and Luke began growling and panting, occasionally clenching his jaw in carnal pleasure. My nerves were afire. Dave had the largest cock I’d ever taken, and at this intense pace, my prostate was a bundle of sparks and sensations. My own cock was similarly tingling with electricity as I plumbed the depths of Luke’s tight ass. The head of my cock sent constant and instantaneous messages to my brain. Through his guttural moans, Luke made a new command. “Harder.” Dave’s cock bottomed out so hard, I momentarily lost the rhythm, but found it again as I ratcheted up my own force to keep up with Dave’s power. Luke began turning his head back and forth, his eyes completely closed. My breathing was getting short and fast, and Dave was emitting a string of meaningless sounds under his breath. I was nearing climax when Luke barked, “Faster.” Like a train going down a hill, our speed increased a little, then a little more, then a lot more until we were three bodies careening into each other in a chain of erotic sensation. Dave’s right hand left the wall of the hot tub, went under the water, and found Luke’s cock, stroking it up and down, helping his lover along to climax. Dave exploded into my ass first, letting loose a scream in an octave lower than I knew he could reach. As he came, his hand tightened around Luke’s cock, causing him to release his seed into the water, a small grey cloud. The excitement of their orgasms pushed me to my own. I felt the entire length and girth of my cock vibrate as I was racked with an orgasm. I clenched my ass around Dave’s cock and roared. Dave leaned around me to kiss Luke deeply and passionately. While catching their breath, the two repeated, “I love you so much,” back and forth. Realizing this was lovers’ time, I extricated myself and rested on the other side of the hot tub. After recuperating for a minute or two, Dave got off of Luke and sat next to him in the water. Luke wrapped his arm around Dave and pulled him closer. “That was intense,” I said, not entirely sure if it was time to talk again. “You don’t have to be done yet,” Dave replied. “Not if you don’t want to be.” “Oh?” I said as little as I could, wary of misstep. “It’s still Luke’s birthday, after all.” Luke whispered into Dave’s ear, and Dave nodded. He looked at me and added, “If you’re up for it, Luke has a fantasy he’d love fulfilled.” “More than a threesome in a hot tub?” “You see,” Dave continued, “Luke’s always been more athletic than the men he’s slept with. More muscular. Larger.” Dave paused for emphasis. “He’s never been with a guy who’s bigger.” He paused again and gave me his most dazzling smile. “A Big Guy.”
  13. Chapter 14 That afternoon, Luke put me through my paces. When it was time for dinner, I didn’t feel like I was completely out of my depth anymore. I didn’t feel like a natural born soccer player, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t embarrass myself. I just hoped I wouldn’t embarrass Luke. After a quick visit to my new boyfriend the showerhead, I walked into the locker room with a towel draped around my waist. I was surprised how many men were in the locker room considering how empty the center had seemed all day. “What’s with the crowd?” I asked Luke. “The center closes in an hour. If you don’t shower and change now, you have to walk home sweaty. So, everyone comes out of their corners and crowds up the locker room.” “I thought we were going to use the hot tub.” “I am true to my word. Al, the head security guard, loves me and lets me stay after hours. I even have this.” Luke produced a key on a ring from his pocket, swung it around his index finger, and then put it back in his pocket. As I looked for an unoccupied place to get dressed, Dave came into the locker room carrying dinner for all three of us. “We can eat in here?” I asked. “It’s against the rules, but everyone does it,” Luke said, pointing to a guy eating a peanut butter sandwich. “If we didn’t, some days we would never eat.” Without getting dressed, I sat down, joined Luke and Dave, and began to eat. I was famished. “That’s the spirit,” Luke said and joined me. Dave locked eye contact with me. “I have to say, this is my favorite outfit you’ve ever worn. It’s simply divine.” “I’m in a towel. Nothing else.” “True. It could stand improvement. You know what Coco Chanel says about perfecting an outfit,” Dave expounded. “Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and take one thing off.” I lowered my eyebrows and stuck out my chin. I threw my towel to the side. “Now it’s perfect,” Dave said with a flourish of a hand gesture. I don’t know if it was endorphins from all the exercise, the relief of finally being done for the day, or the liberation of letting my huge cock hang free in a crowded locker room, but I was in a great mood. We made our way through everything Dave brought as, one by one, the locker room cleared out, until it was just the three of us. I got up to go to the hot tub, but Luke beckoned me to sit back down. “Wait for Al to give us the go-ahead.” After another minute or two, a security guard walked into the locker room. “Time to leave, fellas,” he said. Then Luke turned to face him and waved. “Oh, hey Luke. You’ve got two fellas with you tonight?” “Chris is a friend,” Luke said. “And you know Dave.” Dave waved coquettishly. “We’re going to soak in the hot tub.” “Thanks for the heads up,” Al said, leaving the locker room. “He didn’t care that I was naked.” “He wouldn’t care if you were fucking me in the middle of the room wearing a beret,” Luke said. “We speak from experience,” Dave boasted. “He is uncharacteristically mellow for a security guard.” “He’s an uncharacteristic security guard.” Dave put a little melody on the word “uncharacteristic.” It dawned on me. “He’s gay?” “And he controls the security cameras,” Dave added. “I wonder which one he’ll be watching extra closely tonight.” With that, Dave started slowly taking off Luke’s shirt. I’d had glances of Luke naked a few times over the years—we were roommates, after all. But because he was a close friend, it felt rude to ogle. Now I had license to look. As the shirt began to rise up his torso, I saw his tight six pack—it begged to be caressed. I knew that Luke kept his hair super short, but I was surprised to learn he shaved his body too: his square pecs were smooth and shiny, his nipples soft and fleshy. When he raised his right arm to help Dave take off his shirt, the muscles of his shoulder, arm, and chest formed a small cavern in his armpit, also shaved clean. When the shirt finally came off Luke’s chest, he saw me watching him appreciatively. He flexed both biceps, and I saw Luke in a whole new light. I’d always known he was big, but he was damn big, especially for a soccer player. And ripped. “You shave?” I asked. “Dave likes me hairless,” Luke said. “Dave likes seeing every square micrometer of his boyfriend’s skin,” Dave corrected, throwing Luke’s shirt aside. Luke’s sunglasses fell to the floor and skidded. Luke bounded over to get them, and when he bent over, I saw the most glorious ass I’d ever seen in person. All the running and kicking Luke did had rounded his ass into two demi-spheres of muscular perfection, staunch and robust. The bottom flesh of his godly posterior peaked out below the fabric of his shirts. He wasn’t wearing underwear. Dave leaned over and whispered into my ear. “I dropped the sunglasses on purpose. You’re welcome.” Luke turned around slowly and put his sunglasses on. He slid his left thumb along the edge of his Adonis belt, hooked the top of his shorts, and pulled them down to the floor. Luke’s cock was not what I thought it would be. His balls were low-hangers, full and ripe. Already erect, he was a stolid six inches, but he was veiny with a deep purple head. I could tell, even from this distance, that it was incredibly rigid, almost angry. But the reveal was even more shocking. His entire crotch was hairless—at Dave’s behest—and there was a small tattoo at the base of his shaft. Luke rubbed his index finger over the tattoo, bringing the ink into stark relief. It read, “Dave.” “Your idea?” I asked Dave. “Mine,” Luke said. “I want everyone to know that I’m his.” “He got it the week after the showcase. I think it’s incredibly sweet.” Dave efficiently took off his clothes, folding them neatly and stacking them on a bench. He was just as lovely as a month ago. The same pert pecs with sandy brown hair. His abs looked more defined than I remembered. Jealous of my waist, he’d been working harder on his core. His eight inches were fully erect, and a small drop of pre was leaking from the tip. “I’ve been waiting for this all day,” Dave said with a slight growl in his voice. “We’re just soaking in a hot tub,” I responded. “Oh, Chrissy,” Dave said, floating his hand an inch from my cheek. “Sweet, dear, innocent, naïve Chrissy.” With that, he leaned in and kissed me gently and sweetly. His tongue caressed mine, and his hand ran through my hair. I pulled away quickly. Luke was right there! I turned to Luke to insist I did not instigate the kiss, when suddenly Luke was on me. His kiss was rougher than Dave’s, more abrasive and assertive. His sunglasses were cold against my face and soon fogged over. His left hand brusquely stroked my right pec, moving outwards and away until he was pinching my nipple. Dave’s hand was still running through my hair. When the kiss ended, Luke clarified. “I belong to Dave, but for tonight, he’ll share.” Dave tugged my hair slightly to get my attention. “You in?” I nodded in disbelief. Dave let go of my hair and took hold of my left hand. Luke took hold of my right. They helped me to my feet and led me to the room with the hot tub. “Happy birthday, Luke” Dave said.
  14. Chapter 13 By the time I went to bed that night, I was well enough versed in the rules of soccer even if I still needed a flowchart to know what did and did not count as offsides. I tried one last time to talk him out of this: “Wouldn’t you rather spend your birthday with your boyfriend?” Luke shook his head no, but there was a look in his eyes I couldn’t quite read. “Good night, buddy. Tomorrow we start training.” And he meant it. He dragged me out of bed at 5 AM when it was still dark outside. He threw some workout clothes on me and took me to the gym for a quick warm up. That at least woke me up, which was good because I knew pretty quickly that I wasn’t going to get coffee. We didn’t even go to the cart for breakfast; we went to the cafeteria. For breakfast. Like common freshmen. Then it was to the athletic center on the far end of campus, about a mile from the dorms. The gym was near the dorms and cafeteria and was open to anyone with a student ID. Even some of the professors worked out there. The athletic center was for the sports teams only. I had never set foot inside. It was on this walk that I realized why Luke always had sunglasses on him: we were walking directly into the sunrise. I had to squint and look down at the ground or I’d go blind. “Another workout?” I asked, looking at the clock in the lobby. It was 6:30. “I have to wake up for class in an hour.” “Drills,” Luke said. “And don’t worry. I’ll get you to class on time.” I spent the next hour kicking balls into targets a range of shapes and sizes and distances away. I’m sure the exercises were practicing different skills, but it seemed like slight variations on the same theme. The biggest challenge was keeping my own balls out of the way. They kept hefting up and down as I kicked, moving independently of the rest of my body. I even distracted myself a few times watching them sway to and fro. At 7:30, Luke let me shower in the facility even though I wasn’t a member of any sport team. Luke made it seem like a big honor, but I just wanted to wash off the sweat of the morning. I lingered a few minutes longer than it normally took me to shower just to feel the hot water cavalcade down my back and across my chest. The water pressure in this facility was amazing. It felt like the showerhead was massaging my body, like the waterdrops were a thousand comforting hands working through my muscles. It was so intoxicating, but I had to go to class. Luke walked me to my 8 AM class where he handed me off to James, and after the monotony of my morning, I was relieved for the mental stimulation, and philosophy was usually my least favorite class. When class got out at 9:30, I expected Luke to grab me in the hall and drag me back to the nets. Instead, James asked me to join him for breakfast at the cart. I figured Luke would find me when he was ready. When we got to the cart, there Luke was with a viscous shake and a protein bar. “I don’t know how you can ingest those,” I said honestly. “Oh, I’m not. You are.” He handed them to me and patted me on the back. I went to sit on the grass next to James, but Luke restrained me. “Nope. Finish those quick.” He produced his bag, seemingly out of nowhere, and pulled out more of my gym clothes. “As soon as you’re done, change in the library bathroom. It’s time to run. Oh,” he added, pulling out a brand-new jock strap, still in its package. “I got this for you. It’s got the largest pouch they had. As much fun as it was to watch you bounce like Jell-o, we don’t want you hurting yourself.” The jock strap did nothing to minimize my package, but I was fascinated how it held everything in its place. Luke didn’t let me admire the garment, though, because it was time to run. I had expected to run around campus, maybe up a flight of stairs like Rocky, but instead we ran to the athletic center again. And then Luke introduced me to something called “wind sprints.” It was grueling. For an hour, he had me running as fast as I could for varying distances. Sure, there were breaks in between the sprints, but by the end, I never wanted to run again. My shirt adhered to my pecs, and there was a dark shadow that extended from my armpits to the center of my chest. Each of my abs was individually visible through my shirt as the waterfall of sweat had suctioned the shirt against my skin. At the end of my torture, Dave walked in to check in on us. “How’s it going?” he asked after kissing Luke on the cheek. He handed me a bottle of water, and I gladly downed it in one go. “His stamina’s pretty good, but his speed could use work,” Luke said. Dave looked me up and down, scrutinizing me. “Are you sure you want to do this, Chrissy? Out of breath isn’t a good color for you. Though I give the wardrobe an A+.” In between puffs of air, I managed, “I’m doing this for your boyfriend.” “I’m pushing him beyond his limits,” Luke said. “In a normal game, he wouldn’t have to go this hard all at once.” Dave turned back to Luke. “Don’t kill him before chemistry tomorrow. I need his notes.” Luke let me shower again under that luxurious showerhead before lunch at the cafeteria. My legs were swollen and tired, and they felt heavy. I could see every line and sinew in my thighs, and the water trickled through them like rivulets down a cracked sidewalk. It took all my will power to leave the shower. At lunch, I tried to engage in the conversation, but all I could think about was my afternoon class. Right after lunch, I had senior seminar—a class only for chem majors—and it was the hardest of my five classes. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered to James. “You have lunch every day,” James said encouragingly. “Just take it one bite at a time. You got this.” “Not lunch, James. I don’t think I can make the soccer team.” Dave slammed his fork on the table. “I will have no secret murmurings at our lunch table, young men. Share with the rest of the class.” “Chris is worried he can’t make the soccer team,” James said. “I didn’t want them to know that.” “But… the fork…” James was lost in a fog again. “You’ll be fine buddy. You’re in great shape.” “You’ve worked out with us every morning for a month,” Dave said. “Yeah. One workout a day. Luke’s already put me through three or four. And I’m sure he’s got more for me after seminar.” “Tackling and dribbling,” Luke confirmed. “You do this every day?” I asked Luke. “Normally, it’s a bit more spread out, but essentially, yeah.” “How do you have any time for class, or hanging with us, or dating?” “My course load is not as intense as yours. And I make the time for you guys because you keep me sane. If I didn’t have you guys, I wouldn’t be able to put up with the schedule either. I even skipped an away game to see Dave’s showcase.” Dave snuggled up close to his Luke. My respect for Luke had gone way up. James tapped my shoulder and pointed to the clock on the cafeteria wall. “Time for your class.” I whimpered. “If you give your all, I promise we can soak in the hot tub at the athletic center tonight,” Luke said. Dave cleared his throat. “And by we, I mean you, me, and Dave.”
  15. Chapter 12 “I have a favor to ask,” Luke said. It was a Wednesday afternoon, almost four weeks after the showcase. “Oh?” I mumbled, just articulately enough to demonstrate I was only half-listening. I had a huge math set to finish, an important lab report to write, and a philosophy essay to research, and I wanted as much of it done before the weekend so I could continue to have a full social life. “I think you might even like it,” he added. “Yeah?” I didn’t look up from my homework. “Can you pause the trig, buddy?” “Calc,” I said. I put down my pen and turned around in my desk chair to look at him. “Okay. You have my full attention.” “Every year, the soccer team does a big charity fundraiser.” “Yeah,” I agreed. “Last year you did that shirtless car wash.” “Exactly. Since that did so well, this year we decided to do a calendar.” “Perfect stocking stuffer.” “And we decided to do something like Dieux du Stade.” “The guys on your soccer team have heard of Dieux du Stade?” “Dave suggested it.” “That makes more sense.” I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “We already booked the cameraman, non-refundable deposit…” After Luke paused for a few seconds, I filled in the blanks. “No.” “We don’t have enough guys.” “Aren’t there 30 guys on your soccer team?” “28. Only 11 guys volunteered.” “Shouldn’t you have realized this before you paid the cameraman?” “You have to book a professional weeks in advance. Originally, more guys volunteered. Until they Googled Dieux du Stade. By then it was too late.” “They don’t want to go Full Monty.” “Exactly. Especially since you’re packing these days, I figured you’d be up for it.” “You over-estimate my confidence.” “Do I?” Luke smiled lasciviously. “I guess not.” The thought of posing nude for a camera was actually thrilling; it was everything else that was a red flag. “You’ll be the twelfth guy?” Luke was keen. “Just do a group shot for the twelfth month. Merry Christmas; here’s eleven studs.” “The group shot’s the cover.” “So do two group shots.” “That would be cheap. This is for charity, buddy. We want it to be a big seller” “Get your Dave to do it. It was his idea, and he’s always talking about how he could be in a pin-up calendar.” “Dave wants a calendar all to himself. Also, he’s not on the soccer team.” “Neither am I.” This was getting ridiculous. “About that.” I turned my desk chair around in an attempt to end the conversation. Luke came over to my chair, spun it back around, and crouched down so we were at eye level. “One of our teammates is transferring in late October, so we won’t have a full roster for the end of the season. I talked to the coach and the guys on the team, and they were willing to give you a special tryout.” “That’s absurd on the face of it.” “They only agreed because they want you in the calendar.” “Why?” “You don’t know the rep you’ve built in the past month. You got hot overnight, and now you’re a campus sex symbol. Three different guys a week, easy. And you had loud sex at a party with the captain of the basketball team. People, even some straight guys, want to see you naked. You in the calendar would guarantee half of campus buys one.” “Get James to do it. He’s hotter than I am.” “James would never pose nude, and you know it. Not to mention that most people find James weird.” “James is beyond weird. That’s part of his charm.” “Try out for the team. If you don’t make the team, you don’t have to do it.” “I don’t even know the rules of soccer.” “But you’ve come to a bunch of my games.” “And I cheered when our school cheered,” I admitted. “You don’t know the rules?” “Get ball in net. Past that, I’m fuzzy.” Luke sat on the floor, looking slightly defeated. “It’s not that big of a deal. There are a thousand other solutions to this problem.” “It’s not just about the team. I wanted to do this together.” I looked at him, confused. “It’s our last year of college, buddy. We’ve been friends since, what? Seventh grade? Sixth? After we graduate, we might go entirely different ways. I hope we don’t. But you never know. And you did the showcase with Dave, and I wanted something like that too. Something that was the two of us. Training you for the tryout. Intense and alone. Then playing a game with you on the field, Dave cheering in the stands.” Luke was dead serious. I looked over to my wall calendar to see if I could rearrange things to fit in soccer training and saw the next day’s date. I let out a defeated sigh. “Consider this your birthday present,” I said. “Was that a yes?” “I’ll try out for the team. I make no other guarantees.” Luke jumped to his feet. “The tryout is Friday afternoon.” I’d have to finish my homework on Sunday.
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