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  1. Cappy50

    age-regression The Call -Part III

    Comments on characters, plot, and style are greatly appreciated. Please advise on muscle and sex descriptions --do they work or not? Hope you enjoy. The Call - Part I The Call -Part II The Call –Part III Sun streamed into the clubhouse’s committee room. A glass wall created a visible meeting space, even in closed sessions. Frank sat at the room’s roundtable, his back to the glass. On Frank’s immediate left sat Jerry, and Dwayne on his right. Their one hundred percent American Corvette muscle framed Frank. Next to Jerry sat Lucy, a bubbly woman with curves that warranted slow-down signs, not that she did. Filling the circle was Roz, the committee chairperson. Roz’s preferred expanding grey cells over contracting muscle fiber; The Doc’s formula restored her brain acumen, and Roz never complained about her youthful good looks, restored vigor; and she had never refused a big man. Lenny’s fate at More to Life Living Facility depended on these five people deciding he had met the entrance criteria. The “senior” criterion seemed easy for Lenny to pass, but age didn’t make a senior. Degree of infirmity, amount of aging, and psychological outlook were factors. The average recruited “senior” was sixty-three for men and sixty-seven for women. A vital seventy-two-year-old man had been rejected as not a senior. Another criterion rated Lenny’s adaptability: could he accept the More to Life philosophy? How would Lenny react to a second youth and a body better than in his actual youth? Would he become an egotistical SOB? Or would he embrace a second chance to explore life’s pleasures for himself and others? The committee considered Frank’s commitment to apply his accumulated wisdom to help others, both at More to Life and outside. Altruism as a criterion always caused debate: sainthood wasn’t for everyone and difficult to measure: What constituted help and how often? In the early years, committees had struggled with this criterion until a pattern emerged. Even with super fit bodies and restored good looks, people retained their inherent personality, with exceptions. A jerk early in life remained a jerk. But dramatic events could change an asshole into a nice person and vice-versa. To determine the last criterion, Lenny’s nomination came via Frank –a portrait of Lenny’s inherent personality in high school. Dwayne, the independent investigator, uncovered Lenny’s latter life development with thorough background checks. This meeting reviewed Lenny’s adaptability, data obtained by the ostensibly friendly chitchats, inexplicable plowing of muscle into his face, and a gym power tour. This elaborate staging provided a sense of Lenny’s reactions to morphed bodies with wrinkle-free faces. **** Frank sat upright, fingering Lenny’s dossier folder. Without glancing at his notes, he said: “I know he’s a little odd, but Lenny was a good guy, is a good guy.” Frank looked to Roz. “He’s very smart… and he always helped others, and never hurt anyone. Frank played no role in hazing freshman, a tradition in our fucked-up high school.” Jerry interrupted Frank, turning in his chair like a bull with a hard-on for a matador, the feeling Frank had when Jerry’s hard cock had poked into him during their private meeting the previous Friday to explore Lenny’s personality. Jerry’s aggressive tone startled Frank. “I’m not sure what to make of the fact that Lenny never married. He says he straight, but is he ashamed of being gay? We don’t discriminate. Is Lenny an intolerant gay man? It happens, you know. For his generation –yours-- gays could act like straights.” Before answering, Frank sat back, Jerry’s barrel chest sucked oxygen, they way he had sucked Frank’s penis a few days before. “Well Jerry, he didn’t marry because Lenny was wedded to his job. And you may not have the imagination to understand that working on spacecraft, sending men and women to the moon, is a thrill. Maybe Lenny chose work over a woman. In high school, he studied more than mingled. But everyone liked him. Lenny would do anything for anyone. He confused the bullies because he never complained at their teasing, gave them his lunch money with a smile saying they probably need it more than him. Lenny was never prejudiced against any group. Maybe he’s a hermaphrodite –you’d find a way to enjoy that, wouldn’t you Jerry?” Roz tapped her fingers on the table, mumbling about Frank’s discourteous response. Frank scowled an apology. Roz waited for Frank’s breathing to settle before pointing to Dwayne for a comment. Dwayne, a six-three former detective, and Lenny’s official investigator, said with his deep-water cavern voice, “His former NASA colleagues confirm what Frank said.” Dwayne rested his chin on his fist, his forearm the size of a Roman plinth, his massive head motionless as his lips grappled with his tongue. Dwayne retained his New Jersey detective skills, and used former connections for favors rather than More to Life hackers accessing government computers; he preferred the old-fashion inside approach to illegally acquire private data. Uncovering latent homophobia was Dwayne’s trademark; he’d have known if Lenny hated gays. Dwayne had a particular disdain for closet gays because it reminded him of himself. He had grown up in the eighties, an unkind era, but worse for him as a gay African-American police officer. He still berated himself for being a coward, keeping his homosexuality a secret. Frank’s eyes focused on Dwayne’s twitching pecs poking through his fishnet shirt, the same one he had worn during their Saturday review of Lenny. Frank’s ass had saddled Dwayne’s balcony chest, his legs had dangled behind Dwayne’s ridged deltoids. Frank had commandeered Dwayne’s 747-size latissimi dorsi into an intense horizontal landing. They made notes between ejaculations. Lucy’s two cents came with her hand adjusting her breasts: “He’s cute too, and he’ll be even better once he’s in shape and loses the wrinkles.” Lucy liked gorgeous buff men, not bulkheads that suffocated her. She only required her men be hard in one place; her exact words while rating Frank’s cock for tensile hardness during their Sunday review of Lenny. Dwayne raised his hand like a traffic cop to Lucy. With a scowl, Lucy reacted: “He’s not yours yet, so pack those oversized muscles in a suitcase as you leave, Dwayne.” Dwayne stuck out his tongue, Lucy gave him the finger, and Roz groaned, a sound familiar to Frank. During their Monday discussion about committee procedures, Frank had taken the opportunity to review Lenny’s intelligence as a rocket scientist. Frank had launched past Roz’s clitoris, hearing her familiar moan with each full-blast thrust. The Saturday to Monday private encounters had given Frank confidence in a favorable decision. He had promised all three follow-up private sessions, should the committee give preliminary approval to Lenny. **** Frank cleared the table dishes, Lenny’s half-eaten meal evidence of his old man appetite. “Like it?” Frank held Lenny’s empty frappe glass. Frank spread a photo album on the table. The early pictures were of them in high school. Their youth made them laugh, although Frank didn’t look that much older. Viewing their toothpick legs in gym shorts nearly knocked them to the floor. A few pages later were wedding photos of Frank and Helen. She was beautiful, her wedding dress elegant. Frank asked Lenny why he missed the wedding. Lenny taped the date scrawled under the photo. “It was my first launch. I was so excited, and I’m sorry I never met Helen. What was she like?” Using the back of his hand, Frank rubbed his nose. Lenny apologized for asking. “No, that’s okay. Its just that I didn’t treat her well.” Frank revealed he’d neglected Helen, but had never cheated. “I was worse, I’d become indifferent.” There was no doubt after years Frank was more interested in the bottle than Helen. “I realized what I had lost when she died, and that I’d become an asshole.” The next photo showed him and Helen at the Grand Canyon. Frank looked like a cheese wheel, the top of his shorts hidden by a layered stomach overflowing like melted cheddar. Helen remained gorgeous, but her eyes had become sad. “I’m so sorry, Frank.” “Yeah, me too. It was a trip to celebrate our fifteenth anniversary. Helen died later that year of an embolism.” With Helen gone, Frank had become morose, leading to job loss, and depression. In four years, he had squandered Helen’s insurance policy, and he had stuffed two hundred ninety pounds on his five foot nine inch frame. Lenny thought Frank’s description disingenuous until he saw the next photo. A mummified face stared out topping an atmospheric balloon like those Lenny had sent up at NASA to gather meteorological data. He read the words scrawled under the photo: Mancuso Blimp. “That was taken the day I entered More to Life. Every new member has their photo taken the day they arrive. My doctor had given me a year to live, two max.” Fat Frank seemed to ooze onto the paper, a grease stain showing around the edges of the picture. “Keep this picture in front of you. I want to show you something, and…uh, this may seem …uh, maybe kinky, but believe me it is not, trust me.” The lines creased on Lenny’s forehead as Frank stood to unbutton his shirt. “Stay with me, Lenny. Its fine.” Lenny’s eyebrows reached his hairline watching Frank’s pectorals billow into the room, his areolae giant graffiti. His oversized chest pushed down his nipples so they pointed to his feet. “Jesus, I had no idea. I mean your arms are big but those are… incredible,” said Lenny who inhaled his words “Thanks.” Frank placed his shirt over the chair and turned around. Lenny imagined a V-shaped Yield Sign, Frank bent, his spine ridges visible. His pants flung upward. Lenny gripped the chair’s side arms. “Ready?” Frank walked to the room’s center, rolling on log legs. He wore a tiny bodybuilder’s posing suit. Lenny choked, and reached for his water. “Take it easy, Lenny. Its just a show.” “Frank, what have you done to yourself? Look at those legs…and…. Lenny nodded to Frank’s crotch. “I’m sorry, but that bulge...” Frank shook his right leg, the muscle flopped like a dishrag. As he tensed his leg, dewdrops formed, veins crisscrossed rice paper skin. Frank relaxed his thigh, to lift his left calf that evolved into a small surfboard. Lenny held the water to his lips, taking small sips between intakes of air. With a swift turn, Frank’s back flared. He pulled up the sides of his bikini poser, sinking it into his ass crack. Lenny choked, and Frank turned. Lenny waived okay. Tightening his glutes, vertical striations draped Frank’s ass. Lenny blurted out, “What the hell, that can’t be real?” Laughing as he turned to face Lenny, Frank adjusted his front pouch. “This too is real, but like I said, nothing kinky, so don’t worry I won’t be taking it out…not tonight.” Before Lenny could respond, Frank did a double bicep pose, and knelt in front of Lenny. “Feel them. Go ahead, crush them.” Lenny’s hands rested on each mound, then moved to Frank’s pectorals. Frank pointed to his Mancuso blimp picture. “Lenny, let’s take one of you. The committee has agreed to grant you a trial residency, and I’m sure you’ll be accepted. I meeting with everyone in the next few days.” “So, I was voted in this afternoon?” “Moe a consensus.” Frank’s eyes drifted to the ceiling. “So one meeting and the committee knew enough.” “No. I had separate meetings first to allay individual concerns.” Frank chuckled. “I can be persuasive.” Frank suggested they work on Lenny’s interview, but Lenny thought it a waste of time. There had to be others more deserving then him, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to join. The top of Frank’s lips rose. “I told the committee you always put others before yourself, and you still do.” The subject changed to Lenny’s health, which Lenny waved off. He lowered his head, and he saw Frank’s posers silhouetted with a mushroom headed rocket. Lenny gasped “Sorry, sometimes flexing makes me hard. And, it is bigger and harder than ever.” With flushed cheeks, Lenny circled his water glass on the table. “Don’t be embarrassed. More to Life means restored youth and strength, and more chance to live a complete life. To find new pleasures from a better body.” Frank paused. Lenny’s eyelids had closed. “You know, I had limited sexual experience before I married and after thirty-five sex ended for me. I’m not gay but—Frank’s hand swung around his upper torso— this has made me experiment. I want men to explore me… and women. I am constantly amazed at what I can do with such strength.” Frank’s face split by a wide grin. “You can’t imagine what it feels like to have the strength, the stamina, and the physique of Hercules. You’ll see.” From his vantage, all Lenny saw was Frank’s massive hard on. “I feel myself up. Do you know I masturbate twice a day, three if there’s time?” Frank’s pouch had lowered. Lenny blinked rapidly several times. “Sorry, too much, right?” Lenny nodded. “Why not explore alternative pleasures? Don’t rule it out.” A big, full-on tooth grin seeped across Franks’ face. With a short pause, Lenny wanted to known if there was anything besides sex and flexing muscles at More to Life. The response was ambiguous: plenty of intellectual activity but enough sinew to feed a pride of lions. “How can you really ignore this?” Frank’s bicep rocketed upward. Lenny’s glass stopped moving. He reached for Frank’s arm and said, “I don’t know what’s come over me. All day I’ve felt an increasing urge to massage your muscles. I’ve never felt like this and I haven’t even had the special meds.” Frank’s eye movement was nearly imperceptible. “What? You didn’t? Medication can’t act that fast.” “It doesn’t, not normally. Maybe because you had a double dose.” “What?” “A mistake. I gave you a pill in the morning. Todd phoned to say he fortified you too, not knowing about me. The frappe’s are enhancers, but pills are full doses—remember Todd and the Kidd? Todd and I worried about your quadruple bypass and —“ “Wait. How do you know about my bypass? What’s going on, Frank?” With the heel of his hand, Frank banged his forehead and groaned, Frank’s head rested on the table. “I’ve screwed this up. You were my first choice, too. Shit, I am so stupid.” Lenny stood to massage Frank’s shoulders, and felt he was kneading golf balls. “Don’t worry, please. You did what you thought right. And you’ve honored me with the invitation.” Hearing a grunt, Frank raised his head to see Lenny flexing. “I haven’t felt like this in years. Feel this.” Lenny moved his arm to Frank. Although he strained, there was no bulge in Lenny’s arm, just his same old loose-change bicep. “Oh, Lenny, you’re such a muscle hunk,” said Frank with a whispering laugh. The two men were still laughing as Frank’s poser stretched, his penis outline again visible. Lenny moved back and stopped laughing. “Frank stood and hugged Lenny. “Hey, this happens.” Wiping his lips, Lenny explained his last sex with a woman had been in his thirties, after that he had remained faithful to himself. Frank grinned like he’d eaten cheesecake, and Lenny remembered Frank did it three times daily. “Frank, its different for me. I have no desire for sex. I don’t need it, so I doubt I’d be of interest to anyone here.” Tapping Lenny’s head with his two fingers, then he pulled Lenny’s hand to his bulging posing suit. “Don’t be so sure, Lenny, we still have tomorrow.” **** The Call -Part I
  2. GymWolf

    m/m Cum to the Gym

    Cum to the Gym by Kezzz and Virgil. Virgil sat at the Chest Press working hard for Carl - he noticed a twinge in the satin trainer shorts - the crotch at eye level. Thrusting his arms forward, he almost hit Carl in the hip and he inched forward and seeing Carl's groin is growing in size. First it grew to 3", to 4" to 6". Without thinking, Virgil opened his mouth presses against Carl's thigh, tongue working its way up into his groin to find a loose foreskin. Breathing in, his wraps his lips around the head of Carl's penis and gobbles. With Virgil's skilful mouth, peeling back the velvet foreskin on Carl's penis, the crown leaked a pearl of precum - the nectar of lust. Virgil, slowly letting the corona gliding passed the lips and brushing across the bottom teeth along the underside of Carl's knob. The feeling was intense and thrilling, it's amazing how Carl can remain calm yet driven with the lust. It's as if everybody in the gym are insignificantly far and distant. Both Virgil and Carl could care less of what others are seeing, they both are in their world - their realm - when Carl's cock made contact with Virgil's mouth, everything else were second to their lust. With their sexual drive rapidly ramping up to full lust, they have forgotten that they're still holding on to weight, and their bodies just naturally and smoothly pushing the weights without having their minds on the task. Their bodies were pumping harder, making more testosterone in both their balls, supplying them with sexual lust. Carl's balls grew from lemon size, to orange, the jock was pushed to its limit and soon a gap was showing. Virgil slipped one of his hand under the satin pant and grabbed the pumping balls and gave it a nice caress. Outside Karl looks in - small in stature, but hung. He looks through the window at two men being one - with each other and the weight machines. his mouth went dry, for a second, then raising spit from his throat, and onto his hand. He slips the hand under the elastic of his track pants, and grips what was a flaccid appendage, but is now a rod of iron, and plays. He looks through the window, eyes fixed on Carl's peachy butt, now exposed as Virgil slips his satin shorts over his brick like thighs. Karl's index finger finds moisture coming from the eye of the helmet, for a second, he moves his hand to his tongue and tastes the forbidden liqueur, before returning to the shaft. Steam now appears on the glass window, from Karl's heaving breath. Out from the corner of Virgil's right eye, he saw Karl through the steamed glass. Virgil made eye contact with good firm stare. Carl knew what's going without turning his head to direction where their admirer is looking from. Slowly and sexily, Carl removes his tank top revealing his tight but firm waist, tapered to a wide V-lats. Carl's horse shoe triceps contract as his left arm slip out from the arm hole, and his left pec was exposed. His nipple popped out from the slab of thick prime-filet like chest, defying gravity with a nub that is big enough to be pinkie. Karl connects with Virgil's eye. Knowing he skinny - even scrawny - he glanced away again. By now, Karl's aching butt cheeks were clinched as his hips thrust forward and back pushing his piston through the cylinder of his hand. Precum and spit lubricating what appeared to be a V8 engine inside a Mini. Karl then glanced again at the marblesque gods forming the heaving duo inside. By now both the adonis have laid down the weights and Virgil, with his eyes still affixed at Karl's direction, slowly standing up with his tongue gliding along Carl's thigh, then the abs and up to the demanding nipple on Carl's left steak pec. Carl, with his eyes closed and enjoying the royal treatment. Carl always love a good sucking on his nipples. Through the grill of his gritty teeth, he moaned silently. Instinctively, he lifts his guns and pose a double biceps pose while half of his body still trapped by his tank top. The body is testing the tank top which has already tightly stretch across his chest and back like a strap. Karl moves inside - hand in pants with evidence of activity bleeding onto the crotch. As his horny trance crossed the threshold, the pants drops and he steps out of them. The underwear clad lad, stalks across the gym towards Carl and Virgil and without any grace, removes his hands from his tool, slips the underwear off, his T-shirt off in a sex filled frenzy. His 9-inch tool is left bouncing and dripping with precum and his skeletal appearance becomes insignificant. Heads turn as Karl's bobbing cock launches like a missile in the direction of Carl's peachy cheeks. One boney hand grabs Carl's hip, the other on his lad, and spitting straight at the crevice between the cheeks, to provide moisture for the torpedo to fire into the caverns of Carl's loins. Carl, knowing the queue, dropped his biceps pose and moved his hands toward his cheeks and spread them apart to give Karl's cock a sight to aim for. Carl, kept his rear tidy, smooth and muscular but gentle and ready. Virgil sensed Carl's right nipple is ripened and hardened, decided to tear his tank top off to reveal his other slab of chest and ultimately to gain access to the nipple for next suckling. The tearing sound was loud, many heads turned towards the trio. Karl felt the eyes stabbing from all directions but it's too late for him to hide away as Carl has clamped on his harden rod like strong vice. At this point, everyone in the gym - guys mainly - stopped what they're doing, and the sight is slowing causing uneasiness in their groins. Luckily, the gym owner - Jack - has no problem what so ever with the scene, in fact, in his younger years, he had a few of this experiences as well. Now in his 50s, he's still have a great body. Built like a brick house, wide shoulders and easily be mistaken for a line-backer in full armour from the back in distant. Jack, is getting very aroused and decided to head to the main door and turned the sign to 'close' and locked up to make sure no one else can interrupt the scene. The rest of the guys in the gym - just a handful, ranging from slim athletes to power lifters are attracted to the hot action corner. There's a distinct lustful aroma filling the gym, and everyone are feeling the horny drive and the sexual heatwaves. As Jack turned away from the front door, he slowly peeling off his polo shirt, and revealing his furry grey daddy muscle chest, and making his way toward the trio. Karl is now thrusting his piston in and out of Carl's hole. The rhythm is getting faster and faster and a bead of sweat comes of his forehead and heads down his wee body towards the canyon of lust. Moaning and pumping, just as then two older hands grip Karl's slender waist. Karl, surprised by the strong firm hands that have been lifting heavy weights for years. Just by the touch, he could tell those thick fingers have more strength in them than his muscles on his arm can lift. Yet Jack is gentle enough to caress the slender waist and slowly brushing up the side under Karl's armpits. Standing tall at 6'3", Jack has to lean forward to nuzzle on the back of Karl's neck which sent him a shiver up his spine. Jack whispered into Karl's ear, just audible enough for both Virgil and Carl to hear, "Quite a powerful tool for someone nothing more than a bag of bones. You sure you can push that rod of yours into that firm ass?" Jack then reaffirming his seniority by pushing his rising groin at the small of Karl's back. Karl felt the heat from Jack body, and definitely felt his superior presence rubbing his back. Karl isn't sure whether he should back off from Carl, or firmly pushing deeper, either case, his cock is hard enough that Carl is enjoying its length through his ass lip. Jack moved his rough palms forward to feel young Karl's smooth chest and strategically played with his nipples. Slight gasp escaped Karl's mouth. Jack knew then Karl has a thing for older guys, and he knew he has Karl under his spell now. The temperature is rising - and the boys in the gym were breaking out sweats of joy and energy. Launching at each other firstly with lips search for lips and tongues starting to explore for tongues. Hands gripping clothing and the sound of ripping fabric could be heard above the pump of the music. Boy on boy - man on man and juices were flowing from a threesome, now a foursome to a group of groaning, groping and moist guys. Meanwhile Virgil has finished tasting the second nipple, and Carl is enjoying the sawing of Karl's cock deep inside of him. Virgil is working his magic on Carl's member which is leaking precum like there's no tomorrow. A puddle has gathered at the bench, clear nectar dripping like a long string from the piss slit continuously without break. Virgil sat on the bench and lean forward with his mouth opened, and receives the leaking precum and swirling his tongue on the underside of the crown. This is driving Carl with madness that he's stuck between two places. Carl's instinct for more mouth over his cock took over, he grabbed Virgil's head and starting to fuck his face slowly. The slight movement forward, with his muscular ass gripping tightly on Karl's cock, Karl was launched forward making him off balanced. Jack was able to catch Karl in his palms and lifted him off the floor slightly as he stood to full height. Slowly he's aligning his member to give Karl a pre-warning of the impending visit from his python. Jack, shifted Karl to one arm, while ensuring Karl's cock is still deep inside of Carl's muscled ass without interruption. He freed his pants with his free hand and peeling it off like a thin paper off his lower body. As expected, Jack was on commando - in fact, it will be blue moon to see Jack's member being confined in jockstrap, let alone a brief or underwear. Simply there isn't anything that can contain his well endowed asset. Jack has always been very proud of his tools, he never like the ideal to compete in bodybuilding competition. Those skimpy "bikini" just can't contain even his balls, let alone his shaft when they're soft. Jack once again lean forward to Karl's right ear and whispered, "you better be liking this boy, daddy's going to deliver a truck full of load, and it's going to go somewhere - whether you'll like it or not." Karl is fearing for his life but strangely enough, he found himself more aroused with the husky commanding voice from his back. Karl has never been fucked before, he has always been the one pushing the rod and today he's going get his cherry popped. Karl never wanted to admit his desire for an older man to take control of him. He never had a father figure in his life, or at least one that can be assertive enough to dominate him. Billy - Jacks vey first client - by this stage naked, apart from his training shoes, has gained pride of place standing over the foursome on the steps. He is furiously masturbating, oblivious to everything around him. Eyes closed, drip coming over his nipples mingling with the fores on his chiselled chest. His trimmed pubes reveal a thick vein running up his girthy cock, and his hand clenched tight and running up and down, the cock turgid with blood flow and the eye beginning to open. With a groan, followed by a shout of "I'm cumming, a steady cream stream of fluid shoots out over the writhing bodies below." Shot one - splashes on Karl and shot two hits Karl in the face, a tongue sweeping the drip off his nose and into his mouth, the third shot flies across the trio and then in a spasm, the last drops fall to the floor as Billy convulses and groans - not in pain, but shear pleasure. Jack, with years of experiences with young boys (or men even). He knew no one can resist his charm and certainly what he kept between his legs. Whenever his pants dropped, there will be guys fallen to his feet, fighting to service him. Jack would laugh about how many times he had to keep giving it, and still doesn't seem to drain his bull balls flat. In fact, his balls seem to churn out more load as the lust getting heavier - he's not complaining, he loves sex, especially to the virgin hole that he can pop the cherry off! John John, tall and broad, with the "w" of pecs stretch east to west across his chest, punctuated by deep brown nipples, stepped forward to be the next to take aim at the trio. John John had thighs that could crush watermelons and calves that whistled while walked. His shorts were still on, but his penis had popped through the fly and was throbbed and precum pumping every so slowly as it waved about freely as, John John walked across the gym. Gyrating his hips, no hands at all, this fountain of youth started pumping all by itself. John John's tower spurting cum like a sprinkler on the 9th hole, watered the floor with a creamy syrup. Pumping again and again, he just kept going - never ending cream, never ending groans, with the boys rushing to catch drips from the air. After Billy's loads shot across Karl, Jack barked out in laughter and taking control of the group demanding the boys around him, all pumping their hard purple cocks. Jack cheering John John to put more effort over his cock as he wants to see his plaything - Karl - getting drench with all the protein. Virgil is also feeling the pressure from Carl's cock in his mouth, he knew it won't be too long before Carl's orange size balls are ready to blow. With his own hands, Virgil is stroking the length of his cock rigorously and breathing in only enough through his nose while his mouth is occupied in full by Carl's cock. Carl's breathing hard, he's panting and clamping even tighter on Karl's cock. Jack, from far back is loving the view as he watches the action from the reflection on the mirror. Laughing out, seeing all the boys are on the verge of cumming. His most delight prize, the one "standing" in front of him in his arm, is getting drench with cum from both sides and flowing down his crack. Jack is using the cum as his lube and slowly driving his girthy cock, blunt head into super tight hole. Despite Karl's anticipation for something big, he has not expected the size Jack has and he yelped helplessly as Jack firmly holding him like a baby. There's no escape, Jack slowly but surely pushing his head in and past the pincher. Jack laughed as Karl frightened by the intruder, then Karl spasms. He has erupted his load into Carl just by having Jack's daddy cock head piercing through. Jack now holding Karl in both arms and calming him down like baby while pushing and grinding his shaft into the tight hole that has never been stretched. Jack knew it will be difficult for Karl - heck anyone would have difficult trying to let a 7" round girth sliding in, and that's just at the crown, the rest of the shaft expand to a good thick 9" girth at the base, at 10" length. Just holding Karl isn't giving him much leverage, so Jack stretch his arms to hold Carl's lats to pull them both closer to his body. Carl moaned as more of Karl now semi hard entered him. Virgil not wanting to lose the cock in his mouth, he planted forward into Carl's groin which pressing on to his big balls. Just like that, Carl shot his load, and without any resistance, he shot good 5 heavy loads straight into Virgil's throat. Virgil isn't wasting any of those high protein, as he swallows, his throat muscles is draining every bit from Carl's cock head, massaging it with each gulp. Jack surveyed the surrounding, all the boys are either exhausted from their loads or close to blow their loads and yet he hasn't even started his jackhammer pilling action with Karl yet. He knew it is going to take some effort when he's super horny, his balls demand good driving in a tight hole before they're satisfied to open the flood gate to mark his presence. With just 3 inches inside of poor Karl stretched hole, he picked up a couple of plates of 10KGs in each hand to do some curling just to make the fun more interesting. Jack is proud of his staying power; he knows he maybe old but he has a sexual drive of an 18 years old. With the weights in his hands. He holds them onto Carl's body and started thrusting forward and lifting both the young’uns in front of him a little bit. Virgil is finally fed with Carl's load fallen back and admire the view of two men, chained fucked by Jack. Nothing seem to stop Jack and his power, Virgil cannot believe his eyes that someone in his 50s have such power, it is like a tank ramming at anything it can. Everyone else in the gym are now surrounding Jack and chanting him on, they all want to see what Jack can do with these two men. Jack dropped the weight plates as he wants to have better grip on his boy-toys. He shifted his stance, and lifted both Carl and Karl and all balanced by his oak sized thighs. Carl isn’t exactly light, at 85kgs and Karl at best 60KGs, that's a decent amount of weight to hold up. With the boys at such angle that Jack can push his cock deeper into Karl, the cum from earlier fountain shots helped lube up a smooth penetration. 6" in, 7" in, soon it's all 10" planted deep into Karl, Everyone were amazed that Karl took it all, especially at a base of 9" girth, it seems impossible for anyone to sustain that stretch, it is like getting fisted! Karl is borderline fainting but his body still functioned by ecstasy. Jack now is ready to pile-drive his cock and his balls are definitely growing with loads ready for good blow out. Jack knew he can keep this going but he doesn't want the boys to wait any longer, a few rough powerful pounding which see his cock taken out 6" at most, before pushing back into tight hole. Few more rounds and he's ready. He could sense his balls have a load that will drench the area until kingdom cum. The elder statesman of the gym is now taking control of virgin man pussy as his experience finds the freckle of ecstasy Karl lets out a shout "pump me" he screams and Jack mounts the boys’ hips and pushes him further into Carl. Creating a slippery mess on the mats in the gym was Jack's crescendo in the event. Any unspent cock was ordered to "Water The Garden" as the flows lay there with mouths open and slipping around in the cum splatted floor. The danger now was the participants would start to lose hardness and Jack did his old favourite trick of tickling the boys up - finger first.
  3. Cappy50

    age-regression The Call -Part II

    The Call -Part I: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6130-the-call-part-i/ The Call –Part II Strolling the golf course’s edge, Frank held Lenny’s elbow as he told him about the invitation to join More to Life. Lenny was surprised, even with Frank’s cold call and invitation to visit overnight. “How can there be an opening with everyone so healthy and strong.” “We’re not immortal. No vampires here, Lenny. We die. The most recent was a woman volunteering at an Ebola clinic in Africa. We have accidents, cancers, although rare, and everything else. Heart attacks remain the popular way to go. Men average ninety-two years and women ninety-eight. Our oldest resident is Ruth at one hundred and five and looks not a day over sixty. There are thirty centenarians among our six hundred residents. Plans to double the facility in five years has everyone worried; a drastic change to the recruitment process.” Lenny stopped walking. “And why me?” Frank faced Lenny. “Because besides my wife, no one was ever as good to me as you.” Lenny blinked. **** A sign identified the modern, tinted glass building with a triangular entrance as the More to Life Holistic Center –a gym. Lenny stopped, unsure he wanted to go further down the rabbit hole. Frank nudged Lenny. A man behind the glistening marble front desk waved Frank to a side office. The room’s glass wall faced the weight training area. Frank moved Lenny to the window, giving him a full view of the half-acre. Mirrors covered the four walls. Half-mirrored structures subdivided the main floor into parcels: aerobic area, belted machines, and free-weights, which had the largest footprint. Buff men and women navigated the muscle launch pads. Men swayed with the weights they hauled, the women’s thighs were shopping bags filled with stones. Lenny’s jaw ached from gapping —and the thought of May’s kiss. A noise from behind startled Lenny; seeing the mammoth in the room shocked him. ‘Lenny, meet Todd Gimble, the biggest and strongest among us. Todd, this is my friend Lenny.” A USDA stuffed canvas at six two and two hundred and fifty pounds direct from Costco stuck out a hand. Lenny looked at his own hand, then Todd’s shovel. Todd laughed, and fist bumped Lenny’s shoulder, sending a thousand volts down his arm. “Sorry, man, I keep forgetting my strength,” said Todd producing a double bicep flex that blurred Lenny’s vision. Two humps rose above Todd’s ears. Honeycomb shoulders acted as slopes to the high peaked biceps. “Go ahead Lenny, give them a feel. That’s what we do here.” Todd’s head turned to each bicep, as if he didn’t know how they appeared. Frank moved next to Lenny. “I know, the flexing and touching seems strange, but big men like Todd thrive on confirmation.” Stepping in front of Lenny, Frank placed one hand over the upper portion of Todd’s right arm while pointing to Todd’s left. Lenny’s hand landed on molecule thin skin splayed over veins layered on a bicep so big it needed a room of its own. Lenny’s fingers crisscrossed the Interstate of veins, with blood pulsing at sixty-miles per hour porting oxygen up the muscle mountain. “Twenty-two inches, Lenny. You should have seen me when I retired. A fucking plump, overripe tomato.” Todd puffed out his checks, and then burst into laughter. “That’s BS.” Frank shook his head and chuckled. “Todd looks this way because he arrived big. He played college ball and the NFL drafted him his junior year. A blown out knee is the only reason you don’t own a team jerseys with Todd’s name.” The rest of the story was predictable: drink, depression, and inactivity. At forty-five Todd had layers of fat, but never a squish tomato. Lifting his shorts, Todd’s pillar legs dwarfed his upper body. His veins compared to the Floridian canals, like those Lenny had once spent paddling before he’d become ill. Todd tensed his right leg causing a muscle eruption, the kind meant to crack tundra. Frank knelt, motioning Lenny to follow. There was enough landscape for both their hands; or to lie down and take naps. Lenny explored the outer thigh, his hand scraped along the angry central dewdrop muscle that pushed the other sinew outward. He could hear Todd, but had no sight of his head. Todd shouted Latin names as Lenny’s hand moved along the leg’s surface. Using Todd’s leg as a handrail, Lenny steadied himself to stand. Without warning, Todd took hold of Lenny under his armpits to jettison him into the air and catch him on his way down. **** Todd called out names and ages as part of Lenny’s tour of the holistic facility. Lenny thought it a joke. He saw no correspondence with the faces and bodies to the ages. Everyone wished Lenny well; a few flexed. They stopped in front of a woman identified as Shareen, sixty-nine, but appeared to be in her late-thirties. She was squatting with two hundred pounds on her shoulders. Todd’s steadied her last rep with a hand on her back. “Hey, Shareen,” Todd said with a trill, “Shall we show Lenny our squat variation?” Shareen giggled, her legs spread, stretching Lycra pants to emphasize her grapefruit rear-end. Todd placed the barbell behind her neck then knelt in front. Shareen mounted his shoulders. Once secured, Todd duck-waddled to grab another two hundred pound barbell. Shareen lifted her legs, allowing Todd to rest the barbell on his chest’s upper shelf. Todd squatted for ten repetitious. On dismount, Shareen repeated her signature giggle, and rubbed Todd’s shoulders. “See you later, Toddie?” Touching two fingers to her lips, she rubbed them across Todd’s cheek. Lenny thought Todd in his mid-thirties, but asked anyway. Todd inflated his biblical chest to sing out his coming seventieth birthday. Lenny blinked, seeing muscles draped on a young man, and a liar. The parade resumed. Lenny observed flexing; women’s bosoms pushed workout bras beyond manufacturer’s limits. Bare-chested men ignored sweat channeling down muscular ridges as they bounced their pecs. Todd opened an inlaid door that blended into the wall. The inner room was thirty feet on a side. Mirrors ran from floor-to-ceiling. The dumbbells ranged from five pounds to two hundred, and preloaded barbells went higher than Lenny thought practical. Jamal stood in the middle of the room, alone. Lenny thought Jamal the youngest of anyone so far and he was correct on two scores: Jamal’s body and face fit a twenty-year-old, and his real age at fifty-two made him the current youngest resident. His body resembled a pro bodybuilder. Jamal curled a barbell hijacked from a semi-trailer axle. Lenny tried not to focus on Jamal’s small posing suit; a suit so tight the imprint of his genitals was visible. The barbell clanged on release. Jamal adjusted his poser, shifting his penis to a new position. He greeted Todd with a punch to his shoulder. Todd feigned injury. Jamal bellowed like Tarzan while pounding his chest. As if required, Jamal started a posing routine that lasted two minutes. Muscles popped, cinema style. Lenny felt dizzy, suffocated by the reflecting muscle in the mirrors. Turning one-eighty degrees, Jamal’s back flared supertanker wide. His flared muscles busted the sound barrier. “What do you think, Todd? Am I getting there?” Frank nudged Lenny, leaving Todd alone with Jamal. Outside the room, Frank explained that Todd trained Jamal for the upcoming More to Life’s bodybuilding competition. Members were not permitted to enter outside events, so they started their own. But members were encouraged to attend contests and record them. The More to Life technical crew projected the videos onto large screens: life size and 3-D. “Don’t’ ask me how they do it?” said Frank in monotone. Frank continued his explanation. More to Life members posed next to the on-screen contestants. The judges compared members with the video contestants. So far a More to Life member won every time. Frank swore it wasn’t rigged. The members really were bigger, better proportioned, and more ripped. Lowering his voice, Frank told Lenny that Todd’s interest went further than training bodybuilders. Frank put a finger to his lips, seeing Todd come out of the posing room. Todd laughed, throwing his arm around Lenny’s neck, the gravity strength pulled Lenny‘s head to the nadir of Todd’s nipples. “Don’t worry, Lenny, I expected Frank would tell you my secret.” Todd laughed and grabbed his crotch. Frank shook his head hard. “Fine, I’ll stop. Now, go on, tell our story.” This was their story because Frank had played a roll. One day, off campus, they had purchase guest passes at a local gym. They often did this, getting a kick teasing townies by tossing around vast amounts of weights. During this visit, Todd saw a young man, late teens or early twenties, with terrible training form --wasted effort. Todd removed his shirt and started to pose near Kidd —Todd’s nickname for the man. Todd waited until Kidd noticed, which didn’t take long. In no time the two spotted each other. Todd kept his poundage lower than Kidd’s, not wanting to embarrass him. Kidd became overconfident, and challenged Todd to an arm-wrestling contest. Frank officiated and half the club observed. Todd pretended to struggle, but his rising three-scoop bicep gave the game away before it finished. As consolation, Todd whispered to Kidd while holding him in a bear hug that he’d take him to dinner as consolation. Frank stopped talking, tilting his head to Todd. “I’ll finish. So, Lenny, I hope this doesn’t embarrass you, but I have an attraction to young male muscle, if you get my drift. I have since college.” Lenny’s lips pursed, whispering Shareen’s name to Frank, but Todd heard and laughed. “Shareen, the squat lady?” Todd laughed again. “We’re just friends. Sometimes we hook up. A few other women too, but they’re not my first choice. I’m just doing my duty to share the muscle.” Frank waived at Todd. “Too much bragging? Okay, so to continue, Kidd and I had fun at his place and still do. He was buff then but you should see him now.” Todd flexed his arm while he hovered his hand over his bicep, indicating a growing mound. “Before I left Kidd that night I had emptied several packets of our special brew into the his protein shake. Two days later Kidd called to report a jump in weight and size. He thought it a result of my training advice.” Frank broke in. “The formula has a bigger impact the younger the person, but no one here is under forty-five, so how much on early twenties or younger is unknown. Jamal’s the nearest test case. The biochemists don’t want to try any younger.” Todd shook his ahead. “I would be severely reprimanded if anyone found out. But only Frank knows. Oops, I guess you do too. I broke the rule only once, I promise. So what?” Frank rubbed one index finger over another. “Come on Frank, you always follow the rules?” Frank put his right hand on his heart, raising the palm of his left hand upright. “Yeah, right. Anyway, Kidd has worked hard. I’ve been to contests with him and he’ll get a pro card in a few years, before he’s thirty. He took first place at the Junior Mister Florida at twenty-four.” Before Todd started on another story, Frank interrupted to say he had a meeting and he would meet Lenny at the clubhouse. Todd smiled. “Don’t worry, Frank, I’ll get him there, even if I have to carry him.” Lenny grimaced. “I’m kidding.” The tour continued to another room behind the big glass wall. Several men and woman were posing. Lenny eyes widened at what he thought a muscle truck stop; anywhere he looked he saw bulging sacks unloading. Todd moved Lenny to another door, but it was locked. "Occupied." Todd smiled with cheekbones pushing his flared nose. “This room is like the last but has a table, a couch, a few chairs, a trampoline, and two swings hung from the ceiling. It’s men only and that…” Todd pointed to an adjacent room, “that’s women only. Across the floor is an identical coed room. That’s were I’ll meet Shareen.” Todd gyrated two hands under his massive breasts and twirled his nipples. Lenny shrugged, so Todd continued. “These are different kind of posing rooms. When the doors locked, its a private session.” Todd winked. There was no change in Lenny’s facial expression. “Let me spell it out. In the last room people posed in contest suits. In here they don their birthday suits. And muscle exploration isn’t only with hands.” … “Do you understand, Lenny?” … “I’ll assume you do. I’ve told you this so you know everything about More to Life for your decision. There are no restrictions or judgments on people’s behavior. There’s more to life, get it?” Lenny throat seeped air. “Is it obligatory?” “Hell, no. Not every member goes in for this, but you’d be surprised how many do. Most people start off saying its not for them, until they gain massive amounts of muscle. They become curious about what big muscle can do besides pump iron.” This ended Lenny’s tour and he needed a break. Todd slugged his frappe in a gulp, and then waited as Lenny stared into his pink frappe. Lenny wanted to skip the meeting. He would have preferred to return to Frank’s house. He didn’t tell Todd he knew this wasn’t for him, and he didn’t need to see anymore. He shivered at the thought of being groped. He didn’t like people’s touching him. Lenny closed his eyes, an attempt to eradicate the tour’s muscle saturated images, and especially Jamal’s penis-imprinted posing suit. Todd’s finger with the force of a ball-peen hammer tapped Lenny’s shoulder. “We better go, or we’ll be late” A chill seeped down Lenny’s spine. He felt like a small child walking next to Todd. As two big buff young bodies stopped to talk, Lenny thought this constituted a crowd. Lenny’s mass had no impact on the sidewalk acreage. He folded his arms upon entering the clubhouse. He had made his decision. ****
  4. MightyMike81

    muscle-growth The Ad Man

    My contribution to the forum however I never wrote it. It was something I found on my computer. Some FanTCMan/FanTCDude wrote it. Let's just say I never make it to the end of the story Hope you guys enjoy! Mr. Tucker Forrest had every reason to think that he was as powerful as his position. His company had remained small by ad industry standards, but by specializing in sports related accounts, and landing several of the largest, T. Forrest Inc. had become a significant player. His select staff were all sports devotees of one kind or another, and knew better than most just how to service their accounts. One area that Tucker had not yet locked up was sports nutrition and supplements, but he thought he was about to nail that one, too, with the help of one of his top account execs, Larry Littleman. Tucker had hired Larry based on the fact that he was a personal fitness trainer with serious qualifications in physical therapy, nutritional therapy and non-traditional supplements. Larry also had the outgoing personality and the looks to be successful as an AE. Tucker had, in fact, secured Larry's services not only as an AE, but also as his own personal trainer. Tucker was strikingly handsome and well built and he had every intention of maximizing those attributes professionally. After several months, Tucker discovered that Larry was not just into maintaining a fit, toned, cut physique. Larry was really more into bodybuilding. Eventually he told Tucker he didn't care at all about competing as a professional bodybuilder, but he did have a personal goal of building himself up to where he could. Tucker wasn't about to let himself be pushed in that direction, and he wasn't sure how that kind of body would be received on one of his AEs. When Tucker hired Larry, even before he saw him in workout clothes, he could tell he was built, but having a great looking staff of athletes was what he wanted. Larry was one of those guys who would drive women crazy. He had the face of a daytime soap opera star and a head of thick, dark blond hair to go with the face. Even in business clothes, he had the posture of a man proud of his body. His loose fitting slacks showed a great butt, and his dress shirts showed a pair of nicely developed pecs and arms that pretty much filled his sleeves. When, in their talks about workout goals, Forrest realized that Larry was serious about building himself up to the proportions of a bodybuilder, he felt he needed to say something. He thought that Larry's credibility as an AE might be compromised if people thought he was becoming some kind of freak. But Larry said, very respectfully, that he felt that how he developed himself was his business, and that it shouldn't get in the way of his effectiveness. In fact, he told Tucker, he was working on landing an account that could become huge. Tucker was intrigued. Larry told him that some new bodybuilding supplement had been developed, and the inventors were looking for test subjects and an agency to represent their product. T. Forrest was a natural, and they had sought out Larry to get to Tucker. Larry told Tucker that they needed to complete just a couple more tests, and they'd be ready to go to market. He also told him that he, himself, was to be a test subject. Tucker immediately thought about having his own in-house testimonial, if this supplement worked. Larry told him he was scheduled to meet with them that night and would report back the next day. These guys were anxious to get moving and get rich. The next day Larry called in to say he couldn't come in that morning. He told Tucker that he'd taken their stuff the night before, and it did work. In fact it worked so fast and so well, he had to get some new clothes to wear. He said that the prospective clients had asked to meet with him, Tucker, at lunch to discuss plans for a media launch of the product. Larry said he'd meet him there, and named one of the top restaurants in town. Larry thought about it all morning. Would he be able to see a difference on Larry? He knew, if it worked, the market for this kind of thing could be vast. When he walked into the restaurant, escorted to the table by the maitre d', his mouth dropped open. Facing him was Larry, flanked by two men he assumed to be the clients by their extraordinary physiques, obvious even in business suits. Larry was grinning with pride as he stood to greet Tucker, the source of his pride clearly manifested. Tucker openly stared at Larry. So did almost everyone else in the restaurant. He was not wearing a jacket; just dress slacks, shirt and tie. He was huge. His arms more than filled the sleeves and strained the material of the extra large shirt. His back was so wide Tucker could see from the front how his lats flared thickly, pulling the fabric tight, causing it to cling to the huge pectoral muscles that sat broad and massive on his chest. Larry apologized for not wearing a jacket, saying that when he tried to get into his this morning, he couldn't get his arms into the sleeves. But, he said to Tucker, who cares when it's obvious that the product works. He acted overjoyed, showing Tucker how dramatically it had worked on him since about five thirty the night before, flexing one of his huge arms so that the shirt looked about to split open from the strain. And, he told his boss, it's still working. It takes twenty four hours to do its complete job. And it feels absolutely wonderful. Tucker's emotions bounced around as he sat discussing ideas for a campaign, convinced by what he saw that the potential for the product was huge, but not convinced that a physique like Larry's, or even these clients', would go over with the average guy. In fact, he felt a little embarrassed by Larry's size and his uninhibited display. Larry, meanwhile, maintained an infectious level of enthusiasm about the results he was experiencing and how he felt. He said he could almost feel his clothes getting tighter. As Tucker listened, he couldn't help but imagine what that must feel like, to have such massive muscles that they could be too big to be contained by a shirt, even an extra large tent of a shirt like Larry was wearing. They all laughed about various scenarios of guys using the product and growing huge in different situations, like at the beach or during an airplane flight. Or sitting in a fancy restaurant at lunch. Imagine some guy in his business suit suddenly getting too big for his britches. Tucker laughed, but his imagination was working too effectively all of a sudden. He could imagine how strange that would feel, the trousers becoming tight on the legs, tight in the crotch. Or the jacket sleeves feeling too tight when bending the arms to lift a bite of food or a glass. His imagination was producing such vivid pictures that he could actually feel what that would be like. He could imagine his reactions, a combination of panic and exhilaration. Suddenly the restaurant felt stuffy and hot. Just thinking about that made him feel jittery. His skin was itching. Just a little, when he first noticed it, then growing stronger, like he had hives creeping up his arms and legs, then all over his groin, then spreading from his groin all up his stomach and chest. He couldn't let himself sit there and scratch or sweat in front of these new clients, and he felt embarrassed that his reaction to thinking about what this product could do was so strong. He excused himself and went to the bathroom. When Tucker got into the bathroom, the mirrors gave him evidence that those sensations of his clothes feeling tighter were not just his imagination. As soon as he was inside the door, he frantically scratched the raging itching of his chest and stomach, and he thought, strangely, that his pecs felt bigger to him. He looked at his reflection and saw that his jacket looked too small, too snug. Maybe he just hadn't noticed this morning. After all, he had been building up with Larry's training routine. The itching was feeling out of control. He scratched all down his arms to the back of his hands. He looked at them in shock. The backs of his hands were covered with short, dark hair, hair that hadn't been there before. He unbuttoned his cuff, pushed up his sleeve, and saw the same kind of dark hair growing on his forearm. This couldn't really be happening! He quickly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. All that itching was being caused by dark hair sprouting thickly all over his chest and stomach. He looked just like one of those hairy guys who shaves and lets it grow back It was short and lay flat on his skin, but already he could see the swirls and pattern it was making. It wasn't his imagination at all. And it wasn't his imagination that his clothes were getting tighter. His arm muscles were bigger, and so were his pecs. They must have slipped him some of their product. He pulled himself together, buttoned his shirt, which was now almost tight across his chest, and returned to the table. There, he asked them what was going on. Larry told him that they had all felt the best way for him to understand the product was to experience it himself. Tucker tried to hold back his panic. He asked how much they had given him, and one of the clients, Jake, told him they had given him a basic, full dose, like Larry had taken. Now Tucker stared at Larry with a new and different kind of interest. Panic subsided and curiosity set in. His mind could barely grasp the fact that he could soon be as massively built as Larry. He looked at the way Larry's arms, at rest, strained the material of his huge sleeves, filling them up tight and full, and bulging insanely when he lifted or bent his arms at all. Across his gigantic chest his pecs stood out like pillows filled with steel, straining the fabric, pulling the buttons. He noticed that, at his collar where he had loosened his tie, there was hair creeping up and out over the collar. Tucker knew that Larry had had a completely hairless torso. It looked good, he thought. What a strange thought to cross his mind, that hairon a guy's chest would look good. Or not. But it did look good to him, kind of darkly masculine and sexy. Tucker felt himself sweating as the conversation at the table continued as if nothing strange were happening. His itching had not abated, and he guessed that he was feeling hair continuing to grow. Strange, but suddenly he found the idea growing of body hair very hot. He wished he could look. He tried to act casual and continue to eat and talk and drink, but every time he lifted something to his mouth, he could feel his arm a little bigger inside his sleeve. Soon, even the arm at rest began to swell against the fabric of his shirt and jacket. His clothes were becoming uncomfortably tight. He felt his slacks becoming tighter and tighter. At first he just felt the tightness in his thighs, but soon he could feel his calves filling the fabric. At the same time, the material grew tighter around his hips, and he figured his glutes must be getting bigger, too. And he also realized, to his astonishment, that the crotch of his slacks had started to constrict him in his groin, crowding his genitals. With the hand in his lap, he felt himself, confirming his most outrageous suspicion. What was inside the crotch of his pants was also growing bigger, and with his thighs pulling his pants tight, his dick and balls had no place to fall, and suddenly, there was his meat making bulges in his slacks. His meat! How big was it getting? He could feel that there was more there, crowded, sensitive, even his balls making their own bulges with their swollen size. He began to feel extremely self conscious and, at the same time, extremely turned on by what he felt. He felt his dick starting to swell and grow hard in his pants. With his hand, he could feel the size of its head and it didn't feel real as it crawled, growing bigger and harder, along the side of his groin, over his thigh toward his hip bone. He couldn't stand up now without showing the whole restaurant the effects this transformation was having on him. He wanted to be angry. He couldn't believe they had done this without telling him first, and he told them so. Larry asked if he would have gone along with it. He said probably not, and Larry said that's why they hadn't asked. But his anger was being quickly swallowed up by his growing feeling of excitement. Strange, he thought, but even as he was sitting there, he knew that something was changing, not just in his body, but in his head, too. He had been on Larry's case about getting too big, with his bodybuilding, to keep his place as an acceptable ad man, and now, suddenly, he was looking at Larry's enormous size and finding it exciting, even desirable. In fact, he was sure he could see Larry getting even thicker and more massive as they sat there, his shirt tighter, more revealing, causing increasingly strong waves of erotic stimulation to radiate through him. His collar grew tight and he felt hot. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar button, and when he did, he felt hair growing at the base of his throat out of his collar. The waiter cleared their plates and brought coffee while Larry and the other two discussed the incredible potential of their product, once its ability to transform was made public. The one called Ted joked that they seemed to be making it public right now. Larry sat up tall in his chair, grinning, swelling his chest, replying that they sure were. His huge muscles strained the fabric of his shirt. He was enormous and Tucker couldn't believe his eyes. But he knew that they didn't mean just Larry when they talked about going public. He could barely move his arms, the back of his jacket pulled so snugly against his back and shoulders. It felt as though he were wearing a child's jacket and slacks. The sleeves were so tight with his arms relaxed, that he couldn't bend them without the material straining like a leather restraint belt. The top several buttons on his shirt, over his chest, were pulling, straining, about to pop. Tucker was filled with a confusion of emotions. He wished he were any place but a public restaurant. He could no more hide what was happening to his body than Larry could. He knew he must be starting to look ridiculous in his clothes. People around the restaurant were looking at them, commenting in whispers to each other. But he also felt a certain envy at how Larry seemed to be inviting the stares, how he not only didn't seem to care, but looked proud to display his transformation, his increasingly massive size. Oddly, he realized, he sort of felt that way, too. He felt like some deeply hidden desire, some drive he had never acknowledged, was being forced into his reality, and he had no choice but to accept and embrace it. There was no sense fighting what was happening, since it was happening for all to see. A growing sense of enjoyment, an intense, profound, erotic satisfaction crept through his consciousness as he began to admit to himself how hot he felt, his muscles growing big and hard, becoming like those of a real bodybuilder. Tucker reached for his coffee, and felt the seam down the side of the jacket under his arm, where his lats were swelling beyond the jacket's capacity to hold them, start to rip open. When he bent his arm to lift the cup, the seam down the back of the sleeve also began to give way with a tearing of the threads. If he didn't get out of the jacket right now, he would be treating the other diners, who were already watching, to the sight of his clothes splitting open before their eyes. He asked one of the men to help him get out of the jacket. He struggled his arms out of their confines, and when he twisted to hang the jacket on the back of the chair, the second button of his shirt gave in to the strain of his mounding pecs and popped off. He had to loosen his tie more, and since it was obvious to him that the other buttons over his pecs would soon give way as well, he unbuttoned them down to below his chest, where his lats angled in to his hard, slender abdomen, and the buttons had room to hold. The shirt spread itself open over his pecs, the tie covering only part of his exposed chest. He saw the thickness of his pecs dive into a deep crease of cleavage, dark hair covering the skin. His dick reflexed against his groin with the sudden thrill of what he saw. He could no longer deny that he was extremely turned on by what was happening to him. He felt wave after wave of intense erotic stimulation flood his body and his brain. He had never felt so horny in his life, so hot, so sexy, with a totally new, powerful sensation of maleness. This was making him feel deeply, intensely masculine in a way so overpowering that he had never imagined possible. He was beginning to understand Larry's pride. How could he have thought that being massive and freaky would be weird and embarrassing. He wondered briefly what his girlfriend would think if she could see him now, but he realized he didn't really care. He wanted to feel another person touching his muscles, but it wasn't his girlfriend. He looked across the table at Larry. His account executive was saying to the two clients that it looked like both he and his boss were about to grow out of their clothes, and that they should probably be getting out of here and going to someplace more private while they completed their transformations. Tucker stared at Larry, and he realized that the sight of his friend's massive muscles almost exploding inside his shirt was making his cock throb. He had never felt the slightest sexual attraction for another man before, but now, when Larry said they should get to someplace more private, his mind flooded with images of Larry taking off his clothes, of seeing all of his incredible body, of touching it, feeling those massive muscles. What would the hair on his body look like? How big would his cock and his balls be? And what about his own? He couldn't wait to see what he looked like, too, to see himself packed with muscle, hairy, amazingly hung. The thought of them naked, together, made him so much hornier he thought he might come, uncontrollably, right there in the restaurant. His hand reached under the table again to feel his crotch, and he realized that his cock, jerking with his erotic thoughts, rock hard and straining the material of his slacks, now extended past his hip bone and felt thicker than a giant cucumber. It was growing bigger still. How could he get up and leave? The other two said that Larry was probably right. They would pick up the check and get in touch later. They said everyone would have a clearer picture of just what they would be marketing and how to use Larry and Tucker as spokesmen for the product. If respected advertising executives could transform themselves and enjoy their new look, why not the average Joe on the street. Go home, they said, enjoy the rest, and call tomorrow when it's all finished. Tucker held his jacket in front of himself as they left the restaurant. Walking was a revelation. He could feel the size of his ass in his slacks, the mass of his legs. His slacks were tight as skin. His thighs not only rubbed together, they forced his legs to move around each other with each step, the way he had seen bodybuilders walk. He could feel the material of his shirt stretched so tight across his back that his lats felt pressed and crowded. The sleeves clung tight to the mass of his arms. He knew that the people in the restaurant must be watching them as they left. He certainly didn't look like this when he came in. But he didn't care now; he found it kind of exciting. Wait, he thought, till they went public about what those people had just witnessed. They decided, waiting for their cars, to go to Larry's place. It was close. Larry drove ahead and Tucker followed in his Jag. On the way over, to his shock and growing excitement, Tucker felt the seam in the back of his slacks and on the legs start to split open. For one brief second, he thought about his suit being ruined, but he realized he would never be able to get into it again, and his uncontrollable arousal only increased with the idea that he was growing so big so fast as to rend the fabric of his old image. His shirt sleeves had become uncomfortably tight, and he bent first one arm, then the other, flexing his biceps until the sleeves burst, ripping open and exposing the massive peaks of his hard, swelling guns. Oh, yeah, he thought. This was too hot. He flexed his lats and felt the sides and back of his shirt rip open. It was as though he was being released, his muscles unbound. His lats felt so thick and wide under his arms, and his arms felt so dense and huge resting on the swelling, hard cushions of his lats. He looked down at his chest, pulled off his tie, felt his pecs with one hand. They were becoming absolutely huge now. The front of his unbuttoned shirt had pulled apart even more to expose a broad expanse of his bare chest. The plates of his pecs were becoming so thick that the crease of cleavage between them could swallow his fingers up to the second knuckles. And they were becoming truly hairy. Just the kind of hair, if he had grown up with body hair, that he would have wanted to have. It had become much denser since his trip to the bathroom, but it still was not too long, and it lay flat on his skin, silky and dark. He ran his hand under his shirt feeling how the hair grew all the way over to the broad sides of his pecs and down to the deeply overlapping cuts beneath them. His pecs were growing, not just massively thick, but broad and square, and they were almost totally covered with hair. His dick was throbbing inside what was left of his slacks, and a dark, wet spot of precum was growing by its enormous head. He let his hand continue to feel the hair that was growing down his abs. They were dense and hard as bricks, and their ridges and valleys were growing more extreme, harder, deeper, and the hair that converged down their center felt unbearably hot. With a reflex that never passed through his conscious mind, he grabbed his shirt, which had remained buttoned and intact where his waist was still tight and small, and he yanked it open, popping the buttons off, tearing it out of the waistbandof his slacks so he could see more of his hard, increasingly sexy hairy stomach. Between the awesome growth of his muscles and body hair, he felt an unexpected sensation, a deep, intense, overwhelming explosion of masculinity, a powerful building of raw erotic animal maleness. He was about to pull open his slacks, to grab his cock and bring himself to the relief that he felt himself relentlessly building toward. He was so hot he had to come. He had to come NOW. But just then Larry pulled into a driveway and into his garage. Tucker followed. Larry jumped out of his car and came around to Tucker. His own clothes, while still intact, were straining to the point of giving way. He was unbuttoning his shirt. He opened Tucker's door, saying he had to get out of his clothes, and he laughed when he saw how far out of his Tucker already was. Tucker followed Larry inside. By the time he had reached the living room, he was out of his shirt and had undone his pants. Tucker followed suit, getting out of his own shirt and undoing his belt and zipper. He didn't even care that his cock was hard and huge and obvious for Larry to see. So was Larry's, now, and he didn't seem to give a fuck. Larry had Tucker help him pull off his pants, the thighs were so tight. His bikini underwear came off with them. He jumped to his feet, spread his arms and legs, then flexed every muscle on his body as he moved slowly and deliberately into a double biceps, enjoying the freedom of his gigantic muscles being released from the restrictions of his clothes. His cock projected straight out from the dense big bush of his pubic hair, thicker than his wrist, and longer than his forearm. His balls hung almost halfway to his knees and looked the size of large oranges. His arms, his legs, his pecs, his abs, and his groin were covered with short, silky, dense hair that swirled and plunged in patterns that emphasized the size and shape of his body, his muscles, his exaggerated male equipment. Tucker looked in awe. Was this what would happen to him? Larry was bigger that any professional bodybuilder Tucker had ever seen. Noticeably bigger. Everything about him was insanely massive. Somewhere deep in his brain a faint thought of panic, or fear, or possible regret flitted by, but it was fast submerged in an tsunami of deep, intense, profoundly erotic arousal. He had never seen anything that turned him on so much as the sight of Larry and the thought that the same thing was happening to him. With a few violent rips and tugs, and some help from Larry, Tucker released himself from what was left of his clothes. in front of a full length mirror in Larry's bathroom, he saw the mind-blowing sight of his own reflection for the first time. He was magnificent. With Larry standing beside him, he could see how much farther he had to grow before he would be done. His mind reeled. He was big like the bodybuilders that he never let himself think about becoming. It wouldn't have been the right thing for a big ad exec. The thought made him laugh. And now he was that big, and he didn't give a fuck if people thought it was strange. Not only that big, but he had body hair that looked like a porno illustration. Where the line of hair had disappeared into his pants, now he saw it continue, spread thicker, and merge with his pubes which had spread on his groin, a major thick, dark tangle of luxuriant growth. It grew up his belly to where he knew that anything low cut that he wore would show groin hair. It spread out onto his upper thighs and joined uninterrupted with the hair that covered his massive legs. And from that sexy bush hung a pair of balls the size of lemons surmounted by his rod, a stiff, jerking, throbbing rod of veiny flesh at least a foot in length and so thick he could barely get his hand around it. He grabbed it hard with one hand while he stroked his unbelievably hot bod with the other, across his full, gorgeous, hairy tits, and down the furry peaks and valleys of his abs. Next to him, he saw Larry grab his own cock with both hands. He saw how Larry had to reach around his humongous pecs to get hold of his dick, how it made his pecs mound up with insanely thick mass. He noticed the beyond-human flare of Larry's back, the wide-spread stance of his tree trunk legs. He thought how much hotter Larry looked with his even more perfect, outrageous body hair, and the size of his equipment. He was out of control with the thrill of what he saw and what was happening. He couldn't wait to get like Larry. He couldn't wait. And suddenly, without a stroke, his groin exploded with the start of an orgasm that radiated through his body, contacting him into a total body spasm that traveled back into his groin, down the length of his wonderful cock and finally rocketed him into space, a space he never even imagined possible. He thought his joints would fly apart as he shot volley after volley of hot, thick cream, jerking with ecstasy as it hit the mirror so hard it splashed all over him and Larry. And it just kept coming, and coming, pumping up from some place so deep he didn't know it existed. It hit him in the face and all over his chest and stomach. He saw it hitting Larry, matting the hair on his gargantuan chest, plastering it down as it ran down his abs. Finally, after what must have been more than a minute of full ejaculation, it slowed and stopped. Larry was laughing, rubbing the cum into his hair, massaging his tits with its slippery lubrication. Tucker did the same, taking his lead from the hunk beside him. He felt so good, his body felt so good under his hands. His cock was still hard, still, to his amazement, throbbing, wanting more sex. Then Larry reached for him, pulled him over, and began to massage the sticky fluid into his pecs and all the way down his abs. As soon as Larry touched him, he knew he had waited his whole life for this. He sucked in his breath and Larry leaned forward and placed his mouth on Tucker's. The feel of a firm mouth surrounded by stiff, scratchy whiskers made him suck his breath in again, almost to the point of fainting with passion, and he felt Larry's tongue press in to explore. He let himself lean hard into Larry's body to hold himself up, felt his pecs press against the hard, enormous mass of Larry's. He felt Larry's huge cock find his abs and start to work up them as they moved closer together. Then his own cock touched Larry's pubic hair and the base of his dick. Larry pulled him closer until both their cocks were pressed between their rock hard bellies, rubbing against each other, stimulated by the hair on their bellies. Tucker felt almost weak, swept into a tide of erotic, male passion. Larry kissed him hard, moving from his mouth and pressing his lips and tongue into the soft flesh under Tucker's jaw line, his chin, sucking on the cleft in his chin, working it with his tongue, then down his throat to his chest, where he buried his face in Tucker chest hair, licking deep into his cleavage and cuts, sucking and nipping at his nipples. He grabbed Tucker's hard, round butt and pulled him closer still, pushing their groins hard together. Then, before Tucker knew what was happening, Larry had wet his fingers with Tucker's spunk and was working it between his buns and into his asshole. Tucker realized what Larry intended to do, and there was no way he could make himself want to stop him. He was so hot and so horny that he wanted more of everything, wanted to do, to know everything that could be done with and to the male body. He worked on Larry's pecs, massaged them hard, pressed the heels of his palms into their dense mass, lifting their incredible weight. He couldn't believe his own would soon be this massive, and he couldn't wait to feel it on himself. Larry turned him around, reached under his arms, around his lats, and grabbed his pecs to pull him close from behind. Tucker felt the head of Larry's cock against his butt, pushing between his buns, separating them with its fist-sized head. He was so hot he didn't care how much it hurt; he wanted to feel Larry deep inside him. Larry was telling him how hot he was getting , how big. He told Tucker to flex for him, and Tucker felt hot and powerful as he raised his arms in a double biceps. His arms were getting huge. He looked in disbelief at the size of his biceps, how they peaked. He heard Tucker saying what great fucking arms, what great fucking tits, as he massaged his pecs harder. And then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, Larrywas inside him. He slid the entire length of his cock in, slowly, filling him, deeper, deeper, until Tucker felt himself stop against the dense hair and hard flesh of Larry's groin. He closed his eyes and a groan escaped his lips. Larry held him there for a minute, not moving, just pressing himself hard into Tucker. Tucker felt the fullness of Larry in him. Then Larry slowly moved his hands down Tucker's torso, across his swelling, growing muscles, until he had taken Tucker's cock in his hands. As he slowly began to stroke the length of Tucker's cock, he withdrew himself and pressed himself back inside Tucker in the same rhythm. He gradually increased his tempo, withdrawing himself slightly more each time, until he was pulling out past the rim of his cockhead, feeling the flaring edge pop out and back in again, slamming Tucker's hard ass each time he rammed himself in to its full length. Tucker felt the heat increase until he felt white hot. His moans became open mouthed groans, increasing in volume and intensity with Larry's pounding rhythm. He felt Larry's breath, hot against his neck. He was nearing orgasm. He could feel it building in him until he felt himself rocked by another nuclear explosion, like before but stronger, squeezing him to the center of his cells, his body alive with pulsing, shocking, jolting sexual electricity. And as he watched thick streams of white cream jet out of his cockhead he felt Larry inside him jerking hard, convulsing with his own release, filling him with hot juice. He felt himself fill up until Larry's cum was leaking out and running down his butt and dripping off his balls. When their convulsions finally subsided, they both collapsed on the floor in the pools of their cum, laughing, rubbing handsful of it onto each other, plastering down their hair, slipping and sliding their hands over each other's incredible muscles. Larry suggested a swim in the pool, and they went out to his patio. Tucker felt magnificent. He could feel himself still steadily swelling bigger, harder, denser, his body hair filling in, his dick and balls growing more and more like Larry's. Then, suddenly, he felt his muscles start to cramp. Deep in his bowels, where he had taken Larry's load, he felt heat building and radiating. It felt kind of good, kind of sexy, but it also felt strange. He felt his muscles draw into themselves in a deep, but not a painful cramp, and then relax for a second or two, and then draw up again, almost like mild convulsions. He told Larry how he felt, and he went to the side of the pool where he could stand and lean against something for support. He laughed at himself for reacting, but the feeling of convulsing grew stronger, even though he was not outwardly convulsing. He looked at Larry watching him, and he saw amazement, maybe fear in his friend's eyes. And then he knew what was happening. Somehow, taking Larry's cum must have increased the activity of whatever was causing his transformation. The rate had increased. He was growing so fast he could see it, and so could Larry. He could feel it. Suddenly he was on a rocket. He could feel his arms getting thicker and heavier, even as his lats flared and pushed them out, up. His pecs were ballooning inside his skin, broader, thicker. They were growing so big so fast he thought his skin would split. He could hardly see over them. He could feel his butt, where he was leaning, growing bigger, thicker, harder, literally pushing away from the side of the pool. His thighs pushed away from each other as they grew bigger and bigger, until he had to bend his knees to stand. His cock throbbed, reaching a spontaneous orgasm again, spraying his cream into the pool. He heard himself saying Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! over and over again. And his orgasm didn't stop; he just kept shooting spurt after spurt, and his cock kept growing, bigger than Larry's. He could feel the weight of his balls against his thighs, almost to his knees. He had to see. It was hard to get his arms around the mass of his torso to reach them, but he lifted them and they were bigger than Larry's, too. They were the size of softballs. He wished he could get to a mirror. He knew he was bigger than Larry all over, and he was still swelling, exploding with mass. Christ! This was incredible! Would he be able to walk? Did he care? Larry was voicing his amazement. As Tucker continued to grow, his mass swelling, adding to itself, his orgasm going on and on, Larry could see that Tucker was lost in the sensations of what was taking place. No wonder. He could tell that Tucker was in a place beyond ecstasy, that he was flying on an orgasmic rocket. His traps threatened to engulf his head and his delts surpassed the size of bowling balls. Larry wanted him, wanted his muscle, his unbelievable display of manhood. Tucker seemed not to be able to stop feeling his own muscle as it grew thicker and denser. Larry stepped up to him and began to join his monster friend in feeling, massaging the gigantic boulders of hairy muscle hanging on his incredibly broad and growing chest. He grabbed the throbbing, spraying cock. There was no way he could get his hand around it and it had to be over two feet long now. He heard Tucker breathlessly crying for him to take it, take it. He held the gigantic head to his face, then licked around the spouting slit. His lust and hunger overtook him, and he drank as much of Tucker's cum as he could, and when he was full and still crazy with desire, he turned and positioned himself asshole to cockhead and began to push back onto Tucker's rod. As soon as he made contact, he felt Tucker grab his waist and thrust hard. He was sure he screamed. It felt like he was being impaled on someone's leg, but his lust was so intense that the very size of the gigantic tool inside him was driving to the heart of his insatiable need for more. Tucker was still pouring cum out of his cock, and he held Larry tight against him as he flooded his gut. Even when Larry had been filled to the point that he could feel his belly distending and cum running out of him and down his legs, Tucker held him hard against him. The more Larry felt filling inside him, the more he wanted it. There was no way he could get enough. Until he began to feel the heat in his own belly and the convulsing in his muscles begin. Tucker could barely catch a breath from the relentless orgasm he was having. It didn't seem to matter how much he came. He just felt himself getting more and more turned on, hornier, constantly more erotically charged. Even as he pumped a steady stream of his juice into Larry he could feel himself growing bigger, thicker, heavier. He was so in love with the feeling of his muscles growing so much more massive so fast that there was no way now that he could have enough of the feeling, no way he could ever get big enough. It seemed like the juice he had taken from Larry was even more concentrated in its effect than the original dose he had been given. It was incredible. If only he could get more. And then, when he saw Larry, still impaled on his churning cock, begin so show the signs of convulsing, he knew that they were each producing a more concentrated version of the formula by its very action within them. No wonder it was such an intense sexual sensation and experience. The whole thing was sexual in its most basic nature. The muscles, the body hair, the amazing growth of their genitals, all of it was the expression by the body of an unleashing of the deepest essence of physical male sexuality. Even as those thoughts were crowding in on his consciousness, he saw them confirmed. Larry began contracting, his already huge glutes squeezing Tucker's cock so hard he thought he might burst, if it didn't feel so good. Tucker saw, immediately, that Larry's lats and delts were swelling again. From his position behind him, Tucker couldn't believe how Larry's back began to flare like a cobra's hood, how his bowling ball delts began to look more like basketballs. He put his hands on Larry's butt to slide himself out, and he could feel the iron pulsing of those glutes swelling into larger boulders. When he pulled his cock out, he was shocked at how much it had grown inside his friend. He turned him around. Larry was grinning, his eyes rolling up into his head with the extreme ecstasy he was feeling. He could only keep saying how incredible he felt, how unbelievable this was. He was massaging his own pecs, feeling their hard, swelling contours, pressing the heels of his hands hard into their sides, pushing against them as he felt them pushing out, broadening, thickening. They were beyond enormous. His arms were so huge it was difficult to bent them very far before his forearms were stopped by the ham-like biceps bursting on his upper arms. His lats had pushed them above forty-five degrees. His thighs forced his legs farther apart even though his quads firmly pressed against each other almost to his knees, to where his balls rested now, two very large grapefruits churning with his sex. His cock projected straight out from his increasingly hairy groin, more than two feet of thick, veiny manhood, and as his cries of ecstasy increased, he began to shoot, just like Tucker. Now both of them were standing in the pool, Tucker bigger than the biggest bodybuilder, and Larry bigger than him by half, both of them still swelling, and both of them shooting non-stop volleys of heavy cream. They laughed and they moaned with constant, growing erotic animal pleasure. They shot all over each other. They rubbed the slippery cum into the hair that was still growing thicker on each other's torsos, enjoying the feel of their mass, their deep cuts, the mounds and boulders of harder, denser, bigger muscles. After a few more minutes, when Tucker saw how enormous Larry was becoming, still swelling, veins popping all over his body, his skin thinner and thinner as the muscle beneath stretched it like tissue, He realized that Larry's growth was even more extreme than his after he had taken a belly full of Larry's juice. So the combination of the original dose plus Larry's cum had magnified the strength of the process in him, and what he gave to Larry had been that much stronger. That meant that what Larry was shooting out of his cock now would probably be stronger still by that much more concentration. He looked at Larry's cock, which was like the thick end of a baseball bat and nearly a yard long, he guessed. Could he take it? He wanted to. He wanted it bad. He playfully forced it down below the water, feeling how it was so stiff that it felt spring-loaded, and let it go. It sprang up, to their delight, with a thwack hitting Larry in the face. Tucker reached up, took its frighteningly huge head and brought it down as he turned around to his own huge, hard bubble butt. He pushed back onto it, felt it stretch him until he thought his flesh would tear. But something about this transformation also seemed to increase his capacity to open and accommodate such a tool, because he felt Larry's hands on his waist, then the pressure of his friend pulling his back as he thrust forward, and with a blinding flash of hot, erotic pain, he felt himself fill with Larry's hot flesh. He could feel the juice pumping into him. It was so hot that he tried to stand still and just experience the sensation. His own cock was still ejaculating. He had been ejaculating for at least an hour, and he couldn't believe he wasn't exhausted, but the intensity of the orgasm kept growing stronger and energizing him. He would let Larry fill him for as long as he could stand it. If he could, he would stay on this giant cock until he felt himself growing more, growing faster. The water in the pool was becoming cloudy with their cum. Tucker had no ideas how long he had stayed on Larry's cock. He remembered that when his arms were resting almost straight out to his sides and had grown bigger than a bodybuilder's legs, Larry had been forceful about having another turn himself. He vaguely remembered that they each took several more turns. He remembered that, no matter how big their cocks had grown, they seemed to be able to stretch to take them in, even when they were much too long to take more than half their lengths. He remembered, at one point, that they were going to get out of the pool and try to pose for each other, but they found that they were so heavy that it was almost impossible to balance themselves and stand up without the help of the buoyancy of the water. So they had stayed in the pool. Their cocks grew too long to reach the throbbing, insistent cockheads themselves, but that was not problem since they couldn't get enough of doing it for each other. They didn't give a fuck about the consequences when they realized their dicks extended over their heads; it was just too fucking hot having such gigantic cocks. They completely lost any sense of time as the night wore on and they took turns impregnating each other with stronger and stronger doses of the growth factor, and getting more and more lost in the intensity of the erotic sensations of their growing mass. They never even heard Larry's phone ring, late the next morning, when they hadn't shown up at the office. About ten o'clock, Sean Gallagher came to check. The new potential clients had shown up for a nine o'clock appointment. Sean had first checked at Tucker's house and found no one home. So he came to Larry's. He found them in the pool. Sean was in shock at what he saw. He had talked to Larry about the new product, and had known more than Tucker about what these guys were up to. He had even been kind of excited to see how it worked on Larry, because, deep, secret truth be known, he had always wanted to have a body like a bodybuilder without having to do all the work to get it. But in his wildest imaginings, he had never conceived of anything like what he saw that morning. The two of them were oblivious to him when he walked onto the patio. They were facing each other, leaning against the side of the pool for support. They stood there, the two most grotesquely, monstrously muscular men ever conceived in the brain of the most obsessed muscle freak, massaging, caressing, feeling each other's bodies, lost in the sensations. Projecting from the groin of each of them, resting on the shoulder of the other like a pair of crossed swords, lay their cocks, projecting above and beyond their heads, spurting thick, heavy cream like fountains into the water. Sean didn't know what to do. He was terrified. He called their names. When they finally took notice of him, they said he would have to help them out of the pool. They obviously wouldn't be getting dressed and coming into the office. Sean noticed they weren't at all upset about the freaks they had become. He didn't know what to do about getting them out of the pool, since he was wearing his suit. Tucker told him to just take his clothes off. He'd need to take a fast shower anyway, since the pool water was a swamp of milky juice, a layer almost coagulated on the surface. Sean was mildly disgusted by the prospect, but he couldn't leave them there, so he laid his clothes neatly on a chaise. He also felt a little, dark thrill at the sight of these two hairy muscle monsters with their monster dicks. As he tried to help them move out of the water, they got him laughing at the difficulty of maneuvering such mass. He was immediately slippery, too, with the juice surrounding him. They slid around, Sean having to grab their immense muscles as he tried to help them balance. It was impossible to stay out of the way of the fountains of spunk that were still spurting into the pool. He was soon so covered, in his flailing attempts, that he had to accept getting some in his mouth. He didn't swallow much, but the concentration level had increased so much that it didn't take very much before he felt a strange heat in his belly. To be continued....
  5. Newmassaddict

    growth Growth Part 8

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE 8 Tyler and I ran towards the sound. We heard another crash near the front desk. As we got closer I moved behind the desk and there, crouched in the corner was a terrified looked man. “Get the FUCK up!” I screamed. The guy slowly stood up as Tyler and I; still naked, stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking any escape. The guy was shaking like a leaf. He looked young; maybe early 20s. He was tiny compared to us. Some would say he was beefy but he couldn't have weighed more then 200lbs. “Were you watching us? Getting off on our massive bodies?” Tyler shouted. “No-no…” The kid stuttered. “Yeah I think you were. I think you were jerking off as we tossed those huge weights around and fucked each other raw.” “I swear I wasn’t. Please don’t hurt me”. He said; sounding close to tears. “How the hell did you get in here?” I asked. “My-my dad…” “Your dad WHAT?” “He owns this place. I’m Grant’s son Matt. I just wanted to workout. I swear I didn’t know anyone was here.” I looked at Tyler who was looking at the kids crotch. I looked down and saw he had a huge hard-on under his baggy shorts. I smiled and stepped closer. He stumbled back and crashed into the counter. “Did you like the show?” I whispered and raised my left arm and flexed. The kids eyes bugged out of his head at the close up view of my 25” biceps. I raised the other arm and flexed both mammoth biceps in his face. Tyler stepped closer and hit a side chest pose. The kid started to shake and moan. We watched as a wet spot appeared on the front of his shorts. He looked at us and tears started to pour from his eyes. “I know you’ve never seen this much muscle before kid but we aren’t giving away free shows. What you saw here tonight was meant to be private.” I said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” was all Matt could mumble. “You’ll be more sorry if I see you trying to catch another show!” I yelled. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” Matt climbed over the counter and scrambled to the front door. Tyler and I laughed as we showered. We found a 24 hour diner and ate close to $200 in food before heading home to crash. ———————————————————— Matt barely made it to his car before he came again. He was shaking; both from fear and from pure ecstasy. All the muscle porn he’d watched didn’t come close to what he had just witnessed. “They were so HUGE! So STRONG!” he kept saying. Matt drove home with one hand on his crotch. He showered and jerked off again before crawling into bed. His terror had subsided. Now he was depressed. Ever since he tuned 18 Matt had been working out at his dad’s gym. He had gained about 10 pounds a year and was now 22 and 208lbs. Matt wasn’t happy with his progress. He wanted to be bigger, a lot bigger. He hadn’t come out of the closet yet either. That certainly didn’t help. He had spend his whole life around big, alpha, macho men. He was terrified what his dad would do if he ever found out. The more Matt thought about what had happened at the gym the more embarrassed he became. He couldn't believe he got caught. When he wasn’t hard from thinking about them; he was close to tears. Matt stayed home for over a week. He survived on delivery pizza and soda. He could feel his dismal mass gains disappearing every day. On the twelfth day of his self-imposed exile Matt decided to take a walk. He roamed the streets for hours until he found an old hole-in-the-wall gym just a few blocks from his apartment. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. The place was even more run down on the inside. The paint was faded and peeling, half the mirrors were cracked and the floor was filthy. What it lacked in cleanliness it more then made up for it in gym equipment. The entire place was packed with machines, racks and more metal plates then Matt had ever seen. There wasn’t anyone at the front desk but Matt could hear metal clanging from the back of the large room. Slowly he made his way towards the sound. There didn't seem to be anyone else there. Matt moved around a leg press machine that was fully loaded with 45lb plates. He just assumed it was being used as a place to store weights; no one could press that much weight. His thought was interrupted by the source of the metallic bangs. There in the corner of the gym, was a beast of man doing squats. The bar was loaded with so many plates it bent across the man’s traps. With machine like precision; the man moved the massive weight at an alarming speed. He had already started his set and didn’t look like he was stopping anytime soon. He performed 14 reps before slamming the weight onto the rack. The entire room shook. The man stopped and turned towards Matt. “Hey there” he grunted. Matt slowly stood up and stepped towards the man. To describe him as huge was not doing him justice. He didn’t even look human. Matt couldn’t hide his reaction to the man’s size. He placed his had over his mouth to stifle a scream. The man lumbered closer and Matt noticed he wasn’t young. Grey hairs peppered his buzzed hair along with crows feet and some wrinkles. Seeing Matt’s reaction caused him to stop and smile. He pulled his tight shorts up slowly revealing his pumped up quads. Matt looked down as the behemoth started to flex. Thick, meaty mounds of muscle started to flare and bulge on the man’s legs. Countless veins erupted across every inch of his smooth skin. His muscles fought amongst each other until they all solidified into an unspeakable abomination. Matt couldn’t comprehend the site. He tried to stifle a gag but ended up throwing up on the gym floor. He stumbled back as he lost control of his legs. “FUCK YEAH!” the beast yelled and flexed his calves. Already the size of a football, they immediately doubled in size. Their shape contorted and solidified into a granite hard collection of inhumanly massive muscle. Matt stared horrified at what he was witnessing but couldn’t look away. In his wildest fantasies he could never imagine that someone could be this huge. The beast seemed to be feeding off of Matt’s reaction to his body. He shifted his weight from one leg to the next and continued to flex his beyond massive quads and calves. He was straining hard, grunting and spitting from the effort. “Pumped these quads past 38” today. Still not big enough. You think these legs are sick; check this out.” He grabbed the waist of his sweat soaked sweatshirt and peeled it off. Even though his shear size could not be hidden by the enormous sweater, seeing it uncovered was incomprehensible. “NO!” Matt screamed “No one is this huge!” “I AM” was his only reply as the sweater fell to floor and he stood over Matt’s shaking body. “Stand up. I’m not going to hurt you kid. Actually; your reaction is what I live for. It’s fucking hot to see you trying to comprehend all my size.” he said and stepped closer to Matt and extended his thick hand. Matt reached up and grabbed hold. His legs were shaking as Matt stood face to face with the most muscular freak of nature he had even seen. “Name’s Clint.” “M-M-Matt” “Well Matt, I assume you’ve never seen a man with over 375lbs of muscle packed on a 5’6” frame before.” said Clint. “375lb!” “378 this morning bud. Not bad for 52 years old eh?” Clint said with a smile. “FUCK” was all Matt could muster. Clint leaned down and grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Matt. After taking a big swig Clint placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder “feel a little better?” Matt nodded. “That’s good. Have a seat on that bench. I’m not done showing off just yet.” Matt’s eyes widened as he sat down slowly. Clint positioned himself a few feet away. Clint’s bull neck looked to swell as he rolled his shoulders. His huge traps morphed into something straight out a comic book. Each mound of muscle rose to touch his earlobes. Deep striations erupted on his beach ball sized shoulders. Without flexing he looked to be twice as wide as he was tall. As if he was watching Matt’s eyes, Clint slowly started to flare his lats. His impossibly wide body defied all logic and widened even more. Matt looked on slack-jawed. You could project a movie under each of Clint’s arm pits. With his fists balled up, Clint somehow managed to bend his arms and touch either side of his thick waist. He flexed his cobblestone abs, causing his waist to shrink by a number of inches. He let out a low moan as his back expanded even more. Now looking to be wider then a mid-sized car Clint held the pose. Sweat puddled on the floor and Clients arms started to shake. “FUCK this feels good!” Clint yelled. Clint finally relaxed the pose and immediately raised his enormous arms. Every visible inch of skin glistened with sweat. He adjusted his feet and started to flex his biceps. Out-massing even the most extreme cartoon morph Matt had even seen online, Clint continued to tense his arms. At their full flex, they no longer resembled what could be defined as just arms. There was no space between biceps, forearms and shoulders; only a single mound of writhing, quivering insanely developed muscle mass. Clint’s shoulders appeared to be pressing against the sides of his face. He managed a slight smile and somehow managed to wrestle his arms higher still until they were positioned behind his neck. With obvious pain on his face, Clint spat and grunted while extending his left leg and flexing his entire upper body into the most grotesque abs/thigh pose every witnessed. Matt could not contain himself and longer. He placed his hands over his painfully hard cock. Still holding the sickening pose Clint managed to say “N-n-not y-y-yet” before finally relaxing. The gruesomely huge man looked twice as big as he had when Matt first laid eyes on him. He moved towards the terrified boy. “Stand up.” he commanded. Matt managed to stand and looked Clint in the eyes. “I’m impressed you were able to control yourself.” Clint said as he placed one meaty paw behind Matt’s neck and pulled him closer. “Besides, I’ve wanted to do this as soon as I saw you.” Clint kissed Matt long and hard. He placed his hands on Clint’s freakishly bloated pecs. Clint moaned and reached into Matt’s shorts with his free hand. “Cum as you feel me.” Matt’s entire body shook. Clint lightly tugged on his throbbing cock half a dozen times before Matt unleashed a massive load into his hand. “Mmmmmm…” Clint said and pulled his cum soaked hand out. He smiled at Matt and started to lick his hands clean. “My turn” Clint said and stepped away from Matt and moved towards the weight ladened leg press machine. Matt stood with a look of confusion on his face. “1750lbs” Clint said as he positioned his mammoth body into the machine’s seat. Without hesitation he hoisted the weights up. The plates rattled loudly when he reached the top of the rep. He lowered the weight until his knees almost touched his ears, showcasing flexibility that rivalled his obscene muscularity. At the top of the next rep he paused and flexed his quads. “38 inches” he sputtered and lowered the weight again. With strain on his face he slowly powered the weight up again. Once again he stopped at the top. This time, he placed his hands on his thick quads and started to massage the dense fibers. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. Leaving one hand on his blood engorged quads his other hand reached into his shorts. He aggressively started to jerk his hard cock. Matt stood slack jawed. Clint freed his enormous cock from his shorts and continued to tug on it. “Need more size…need to be bigger…WILL BE BIGGER” he repeated over and over. After a minute at the top of the rep his legs were shaking uncontrollably. Matt started to worry the weight would come crashing down. As if sensing Matt’s concern Clint adjusted his feet and started to perform calf raises with the massive weight. Clint stared at his inhumanly developed calves as cum started to spray all over his pumped up pecs. He let out a savage grunt and lowered the weight and rolled himself onto the floor. He laid there for a few seconds before standing up. “That was fucking intense. I’ve never had someone witness me do that. You should rest here for a bit. I’m going to have a shower. Be back in a little bit.” Clint said and waddled away. Matt stood speechless watching Clint's mammoth back, glutes and quads slowly walk away.
  6. This is the original part 7 for you guys. It will still follow the path from the original parts 1-6 so dont worry, it's all still connected. The rest will be posted in the following weeks for you guy who still like the original parts. Part 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1556-my-dad-is-a-big-boy-re-post/ Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1560-my-dads-boy-is-a-big-boy/ Part 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1569-my-dads-boy-is-a-man/ Part 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1595-my-dad-is-a-secret-holder/ Part 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1596-my-dad-is-a-cum-fountain/ Part 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1606-my-dad-is-a-room-wrecker/ My skin burned as I was wrapped in a never ending bath of muscle and hair that sent warmth through ever body part. I could imagine it all happening from a bird's eye view as I lay pinned by my giant dad. His arms were placed on either side of me and the wide bed, his biceps and triceps bulging on either side of the mattress as he lowered his body, battling his forearms for space. Every other second I wasn't rubbing up against a muscle, he would kiss a body part, sending electricity into me. "Fuck..." I hissed as my cock smacked into what had to be a very low ceiling of man. Like a running faucet, I could feel myself leak pre when Dad leaned into my ear and whispered to me. " I can't control it anymore" he growled into my ear as he continued his barrage of kisses and rubs. I gave in the moment I heard him say those words. I moved over his body uncontrollably, licking him in random and hot places that seemed to flex themselves from my touches. The tables slowly turned as dad began to lean back on the bed, causing it to sink as his weight was transferred into one place. The wood in the bed frame chipped as dad's now enlarged body sat on the back of his feet, his knees spread wide and his bulge in clear view, jumping every so often as if it wanted to grow but was waiting for something. I guessed quickly as I followed dad's 15 foot body to the other side of the bed. With a kind of desperation, I quickly kissed his legs, feeling the hard quads flex and bulge. Each one was potentially bigger than all of my 230 pound body put together and probably 10 times denser as they bulged with their three headed perfection. Quickly enough, I made it to dad's abs and I couldn't help licking the set of steel up and down with an eager tongue. It seemed almost as if his midsection was so big that it spread for miles vertically and horizontally. The apollo's belt of his wait was perfect in every way, pulling in all the enormity of such a man to one place. This was extremely futile and a sea of muscle welcomed me. Obliques the size of bars of soap awaited my arrival, each one looking extremely tight and fastened into the giant my dad was. At this point, I was standing as I tried to continue going up my dad. He was so tall standing up that, even on his knees, his torso raised him more than 7 feet tall, making him taller than me even as he sat. His amazing height was the last thing on my mind before I felt my head bump into what felt like the ceiling. I raised my attention up to the cause and my mouth began to water as I saw two of the most hulking, meaty pecs hover above me. Clearly, they were far from dad's rib cage but that wasn't the only amazing thing about them. Each one was spread far and in opposite directions, making it truly appear as if a wall of hairy muscle was spread before me. Each pec was capped with the most succulent nipple on each side that seemed to drop and appeared ready to be sucked and tortured by someone's mouth. For a few seconds, that someone was me as my tongue touched one nipple and licked around it. I was lost in the muscle as dad flexed two boulder biceps that looked so big, they could eat me and still have room for a the main course. Each bicep peak soared high as they were flexed, angry veins appearing on each as the muscle swelled with blood. I found myself grabbing hold of one of dad's massive arms and licking it with all my might. I could feel myself fire another small stream of jizz as I rode the bicep. This was potentially the most amazing moment of my life as I licked and licked all over my dad's upper body. Suddenly, an enormous vein grew on dad's arm and the muscle began to shake. My dad's skin turned red as though he had come from the beach and had experienced a terrible skin burn. "Fuck, not now..." he groaned as dad's flexing seemed to be unstoppable. Dad stood and I held on as the floor became very far away from me. I had no time to enjoy the view as I heard dad groan as if he were experiencing pleasure and pain at the same time. " It hurts!" he roared as his eyes seemed to be glaring off in space, their blue intensity piercing into all who dared look into them. I knew almost instantly Medusa would look into those eyes and be the one to turn to stone from such a powerful and manly stare. I felt cock fire a load as I looked into those eyes. Dad caught this and smiled a pained smile. " Don't tire out just yet, Squirt. It's only just getting to the good part" Dad roared as suddenly every muscle in his body flexed harder than I imagined were possible. Muscle and veins were decorated across the giant as though they believed they could make such a body more perfect with more blood. It was truly a scene that could make you fire a dozen loads just from standing in front of such an amazing sight. At first, I didn't catch it. It only came in very small intervals as my eyes trained on the muscle fibers of the bicep I was hugging. Still, I saw it as the muscle almost seemed to swell before me. I trained my eyes on it, unblinking before I saw the muscle jump again. I felt my cock painfully harden as I knew what was coming next. My dad was growing! I watched with amazement as the bicep I held seemed to puff up and make it harder for me to get a hold of such a big muscle. The muscles beneath me only seemed to become harder as I felt the undentable muscle seemed to push against me and press more powerfully into every body part. I watched as my dad's massive shoulders only seemed to get bigger and bigger in front of me as though they were being pumped with air. His neck seemed to thicken along with him and I looked on, dumbfounded, as I watched my dad's head also grow too, keeping up with the rest of him. In the beginning, I thought that there was no way the two massive pecs I'd licked could possibly get any bigger. Now, I knew that was a foolish thing to think as the two creatures jumped and then swelled outward, puffing out like a swelling loaf of bread that had been mixed with A LOT of yeast. I found myself to be a really infatuated pec man as I watched the two plates seemed to thicken and grow, becoming farther away from me as the swelling bicep I hugged grew longer as well as thicker, elongating the arm and amplifying what made dad's body so hot. I couldn't help but drool as my attention lowered to the rest of my enormous dad. His wall of perfect abs looked like you could swing a metal bat into it and you'd only send vibrations through the bat as it reacted to hitting such a hard wall. Each one appeared to be perfectly segmented on his body and divided among the rest in a perfect 8 pack. I could almost tell that all this brawn upstairs was causing dad's skin to thin itself out from so much being stuffed into it. The enormity of the situation truly set in as I saw the most massive bulge in a pair of weakening briefs. Clearly, dad had used these undergarments because they were one of his last fitting pairs. The manhood hiding inside appeared to be outgrowing its incredible shrinking prison. Two hairy cannonballs that had to be filled to the brim with cum were bulging out of the leg holes of the garment as the shaft of the giant seemed to push the briefs forward and cause them to strain in order to contain everything at once. I watched as a tear formed in the hem of the underwear, the muscle beneath clearly becoming too much for such a pathetic man made invention. Dad's ever growing cock quickly joined the fun as it began to harden and mix its growth with a pump of blood. My lips actually became dry as I watched the massive manhood grow at an unbelievable speed, Outgrowing the width of my chest and my height, quickly running past that and refusing to slow down as it began to attempt outgrowing Jeff. The shaft began to thicken as the extra stretchy briefs continued to tear. I could tell almost instantly that you could put furniture on that enormous weapon and you'd find no need to have to balance it. Simple place a sofa on the cock and it would have more than enough room to sit firmly. As the manhood was growing and reaching god proportions, I watched as two quads came into view on both sides, growing as if they were trying to still be seen behind the massive growing ball sack sitting on top of them. Each one appeared to be covered in veins as they held such a massive body up with their brawn. With ton after ton of muscle being piled onto them, they must have known they'd have to grow bigger and stronger to keep up with everything else. Each one looked as if it could withstand the weight of a building and still ask for more! The segmented heads in each one swelled, accentuating each individual part and making them all look even better as a group. I looked down further and caught his calves just in time to see each one grow a vein and harden remarkably. Who needed a football when you could use one of dad's calves. Of course, even then, you wouldn't be able to throw something so big and heavy in the first place as it appeared to be far past the size of my torso. I gasped at the size of dad's feet way way below. Even from here, I could tell that each one could have been close to being able to hide a big screen tv underneath even from my perch above. Yet they still continued to grow bigger. Just as I was nearly hypnotized by the lengthening feet down below, I was brought back to a cock worthy of a giant god. With a loud SSSNAP and POP, the longest and biggest cock of all time was set free from the feeble confines that had been holding it down. A massive hand wrapped around my torso and I was lifted up and off the bicep I was lying on before I was introduced to the largest, still growing cock there was. "Help.... me.....John" Dad said through pained groans as his body continued to swell. I could tell that he was pain and that, somehow, his cock being hard was the cause of some of it. Of course, I still grabbed hold for much more selfish reasons. With the biggest man-bush to rest on, I got to work on the giant member before me. It's length far surpassed me as it seemed to be trying to stretch into the sky. For a moment, I could tell it had reached 8 feet in height but then it grew past that. Just eye balling, I could tell that it was beyond 9 feet in length and potentially 6 feet thick. It was like hugging a walrus! I was forced to use the bush and rod base beneath me as footing as I stood on the giant's crotch in an attempt to better wield Dad's weapon. "Fuck....." I heard someone above me say as I continued to rub the pole up and down with my body. I could feel it tighten as it swelled, clearly now at full erection and quickly reaching climax. Clear liquid was leaking from the high tip and falling like an erotic river down to the floor, creating a kind of puddle. I was too busy rubbing the god weapon to appreciate what was happening around me. The floor was creaking as it tried to contain all of the mass that was filling into its occupant. The bed had long been broken and was now too tiny to be stood upon by dad's large body. His legs were too big and too long! Now, each one stood on opposite sides of the bed like a married couple. "FUCK!!!" Dad roared as his head punched the ceiling and his growing cock began to leak like an open faucet. I was hot as I rubbed back and forth on the giant like the cock slave I knew I was. I was hypnotized by the size and power surrounding me that seemed to just get become more and more of those qualities I was growing to love. "I CANT HOLD IT ANY LONGER!!!" Dad roared with his deep and powerful voice. Like an oversized fire hose pumped by a faucet, dad's cock instantly thickened dramatically as it prepared to fire the biggest load of all time. Plaster fell from the ceiling as dad's ever expansive body just seemed to press harder and harder into it, his big head full of hair now matted against the vertical limit. "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!" Dad roared as his cock shook with power and fired what had to be the biggest load of all time. White, thick liquid flew everywhere in a single direction like the perfect hose. The now cracked ceiling and floors now had matching walls as the room was slowly painted in white. Dad bellowed like a lion ruling his kingdom as he fired off endlessly, his growth seeming to accelerate as it all happened. " IT"S GETTING TOO STROOOOOONG!!!" he cried as he tried grab a hold of the uncontrollable weapon. For a moment, I was surrounded by so much growing muscle and cock that I took advantage of it to fire more cum without touching my cock. Just like the night before, my cock fire was nothing compared to the cock cannon I stood on. Cum filled the room at an incredible speed, quickly covering dad's feet and slowly raised past his ankles. The room was slowly sinking in a never ending cum sea that came straight from the most powerful cock on the planet. Still dad grew and grew, his big and full lats now pressing into the ceiling. I could tell he was in pain but the smile on his face was just amazingly hot, making my now spent cock sore. " SO FUCKING BIIIIG!" he roared as he let his cock go and raised his hands to the ceiling, his massive arms flexing with everyone movement. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by pecs and biceps and a cock that were all so big I could almost see myself getting crushed between it all. Just when I thought the sex would never end, it all came to an abrupt stop. The room had been painted white just like dad's room and was now so full that, if I were to stand in it, my black body hair and skin would be bleached white from the neck down with thick, steaming cum. Dad stopped growing just as his upper back was pushed against the ceiling and his cock head was now defiantly in his face, still hard as steel and rigid as a telephone pole. I looked up at his face and he just smiled down at me with glowing eyes. " Is it alright for me to say I've gotten too big for my britches?" he asked with an even more powerful voice than before that seemed to make me leak pre just from its sound. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dad and I had trouble escaping the room as neither of us could get out without either drowning or tearing down a wall. Eventually, we decided tearing down a wall was much better than me drowning myself and getting Jeff for help. If only the NFL could have seen dad as he charged through the wall to my room like the perfect line back given super human strength and size by the gods. I had trouble finding clothes afterwards since they were all submerged in a pool of cum so I was given one of Jeff's smallest pairs of clothes. Of course, seeing as his smallest clothes were made for an 8 foot muscle giant, I had to wear them the same way one would wear covers. It was hot, against my better judgment, and I wanted it to continue but eventually, we found an old pair of clothes that belonged to Jeff before he went through his super growth spurt. It was pretty tight but it was originally made for someone who hadn't even broke the 200 pound mark. Dad said he needed some good eating so he and Jeff decided to go chow down on everything in the enormous kitchen that they could find (although a 25 foot giant is hard to feed and hard to bring around). Feeling like I needed to collect my thoughts, I asked dad if I could get a ride to a local bar but he was still stuffing himself with hundreds of pounds of meat that seemed to be endlessly piled yet still potentially not enough for someone so massive. Seeing that Dad was out of it, Jeff decided to give me the keys to his car and shooed me off. The car itself was actually really big. Coming from me, a guy who was 6'3 and a line backer, that was definitely really big. It took me only a short few minutes to find my way to the bar since I remembered where everything was but I still walked in unsurely as I parked. I stopped outside as I saw the most enormous motorcycle on its side beside the entrance. It looked bigger than the motorcycle I saw in Harry Potter. I dared to wonder whether or not it was a real bike but I kept moving anyway. When I entered the bar, I stopped in my tracks. Sitting right at the center of the many stools was the widest back and ass in the tightest leather pants I'd ever seen. Every big and burly muscle was amplified to the Holy Shit degree. I had trouble hiding a boner that had jumped up almost like lightning in my pants as I quickly ran next to him and sat in the stool beside him. I looked down and could see that his stool was struggling to hold him as it creaked from every flex his ass made on top of it. Each foot was wearing a giant boot big enough for me to put a leg into. His long legs were spread wide to the point his left leg was nearly on my chest. A muscle gut you could hide multiple bodies in was lying in front of the giant, pushing into the bar and making it also creak in protest. Pecs that pushed far and powerfully from the man's rib cage were pushed forward and look like they were just begging for someone to dare them to tear the white t shirt beneath and the leather jacket to shreds. Big arms that seemed to be far bigger than every muscle I could possibly have pushed taut against the leather jacket the man wore. High above, I could make out a shoulder so large and powerful looking, you could use it to shield yourself against bullets and be unharmed from head to toe. His hair appeared ashen gray and seemed as if it was in a hairstyle that was clearly made to stick straight up while still short and was doing a good job of staying that way. The man looked down at me through a mean looking pair of sun glasses and I could see over his massive torso that he owned a really manly and thick goatee. I could almost feel his eyes concentrating on me for only an instant before the bartender came over with a tall and wide beer mug that looked like you could eat cereal from it. He looked down at it and picked it up with a massive hand, the handle still too small for all his fingers to hold it. As if he were lifting a coffee mug, he lifted the drink and gulped it down in seconds, his massive adam's apple bouncing with each swallow. He slammed it down on the bar, making a big dent in the wood and cracking the mug, before he turned his stool to me. His long and thick legs surrounding me on both sides as he leaned down and looked into me, his upper body bulging and looking as if it would explode from the shirt and jacket. " Hey there, short stack" he said down to me in a voice that made me quiver. I came right in my pants and he could tell instantly. I went red as I tried to pretend it didn't happen. He hadn't stopped looking at me and took off his glasses. A pair of strong, electric blue eyes looked at me and seemed to be looking into my soul. I lost all attention as I looked into those eyes. " Hey.........sir" I said, trying to show respect for the big man as he looked down at me. When it seemed I would explode from the tension, the big man smiled and then laughed a big and hearty laugh that I felt in the deepest part of my being. " Don't call me sir, Shorty!" he said in the middle of his laughter. When he finally stopped cracking up, he looked back down at me with a smile. " Call me James" he said. I took this as a command as I sat in my chair feebly. A massive and heavy hand touched my shoulder and I looked up at the giant. " Is that anyway to talk to your big 'ol grandad?!" he said before laughing again. I was speechless.
  7. tortolis

    strength Who Is Captain X?

    I intended to add to the bullet-proof story before going on to something new, but this came together pretty quickly and was a lot of fun to execute. Hope readers find it enjoyable. ----------------- WHO IS CAPTAIN X? About six of the larger London newspapers continued to follow the controversy surrounding "the mighty Captain X" at least to some degree. But it was the little Sentinel-Observer that had broken the story, and that continued to beat the dying horse. Circulation had spiked when it first ran; it climbed for a week, then began to ebb. Letters to the editor continued to run in favor of the Captain, mostly from military men. The managing editor had a reporter looking for the Colonel and staking out the Mayfair digs of the Smith-Martyns, where it all began. Interest seemed to be slumping, but perhaps it could be renewed. Anything to keep the circulation up. "What are the newsies saying?" the editor, a usually grubby man who was looking exceptionally tidy today, asked his reporter. "It's only on a few of the boards," said the reporter, a man known as T.J. —T.J. Jones on his byline. Covering the mighty Captain X, he had shifted from society gossip to something more like a news beat. "I saw 'Captain X Scandal Drags On.' Right outside on Fleet Street." It had probably been years since the managing editor, Francis X. Nelson, had scrubbed the ink off his hands, but he had done so this morning for the most improbable of reasons: Mrs. Smith-Martyn, who started all the trouble for the mighty Captain X, had telephoned Mr. Nelson yesterday to request a meeting today. Tea at the Ritz, no less. "I appreciate the opportunity to discuss this with you, madam," Francis had told her, trying his best to keep the East End out of his mouth. "But do you really think that meeting in so public a venue is a good idea? I'm thinking only of your — " She had cut him off like a rugby player. "Mr. Nelson," she said, "you know perfectly well that wherever I go at the moment, I am being followed by journalists who hope I will betray the interests of either my husband or Captain X. Or both. But quite truthfully, I have nothing to hide. We could just as well meet on the stage of Covent Garden." And so the Ritz at 3:45 the following day was agreed upon. The whole affair, if that was the word, had started with a fund-raising evening that Mrs. Smith-Martyn had arranged to host at her home for the benefit of the boys who were off fighting the Hun in what was already being called a "world war." Most thought they would return after only a few months; some thought it would be a lark or a character-building adventure. They were confronted with unspeakable horrors that had already stretched on for over a year with no end in sight. The idea that a simple musicale with the presentation of some tableaux vivantes could cause controversy — indeed, that it could eclipse the suffering of the gallant boys in uniform — it was just too ridiculous. Still, that was what had happened. The Sentinel-Observer reported it as a society event on page eight along with two photographs of tableaux, one a Delacroix battle scene, and one captioned "The Farnese Hercules portrayed by a mighty captain in His Majesty's armed forces." Captain X appeared in both photographs, but in the Farnese Hercules he was the sole figure, shown in muscular glory but looking oddly despondent, bent over his club. He was draped in a sheet rather than a lion skin. "It was a last-minute choice that the Captain undertook as a particular favor to me," Mrs. Smith-Martyn told Mr. Nelson over their cream tea, which was handsomely arrayed, though neither was eating any pastry. "We had planned to do Delacroix's 'Liberty Leading the People,' but there was some — difficulty — and in the end…" "The figure of Liberty has her breasts exposed in that painting, does she not?" asked Mr. Nelson. "That was one of the difficulties," said Mrs. Smith-Martyn."We thought we would just drape…but in the end…I must tell you, Mr. Nelson, that the evening ended in a spirit that was entirely honorable, and with a sense of accomplishment that everyone present felt was well-earned. The Captain was draped just as the figure in the actual sculpture is draped, though we did not have an animal skin at our disposal. If anything, the Captain is more impressive a figure than the original statue. Needless to say, I had never before seen the Captain's torso exposed before. Modest as that exposure was, as you saw. Just the shoulder and arms and one side of the chest. We cut the sheet above his knees to simulate…well, as I say, I had never seen him in that way before, but it certainly did not surprise me, nor would it have surprised anyone who had seen him in uniform. Nor was I surprised when this particular tableau made something of a sensation. Would it surprise you to learn that we earned more than ten thousand pounds on the strength of that tableau alone? Funds that will buy boots and medicine for young men who are in desperate need of both. And who have neither." The original story was on the table next to Mr. Nelson's teacup, and he was peering at the news photo of the Farnese Hercules tableau. "Most impressive," he said. "But surely you don't mean that these are the sinews of his actual body, and not some kind of padding?" "Mr. Nelson, we are not a theatrical troupe. We do not have elaborate resources of that kind. Special lighting, elaborate make-up, fancy costumes — no, no, a tableau vivant is about imagination and ingenuity, and the willingness to put one's self on display for a cause." That said, the body of Captain X was not like any that Mr. Nelson had ever seen; he had simply assumed it was augmented in some clever, artful way. Sandow's and Macfadden's only began to suggest such contours — the way the shoulder was capped with a sharply defined, round mass from which the arm emerged…and the arm itself was a series of round masses that seemed taut to the point of bursting. The heroes depicted in Greek and Roman statuary were nothing compared with this man. And yet, while his arms appeared larger and more powerful than those of the Farnese Hercules, his torso tapered in a way that also projected power; 'fighting trim,' one could call it. Was it artificial, exaggerated, or wasn't it? At first it appeared grotesque, but then it seemed beautiful. How strange that he was posed to stare at the ground in so melancholy a way, with his shoulders slumped and his head bent over. Imagine him standing up straight, with his shoulders back and proud! "May I ask how Mr. Smith-Martyn felt about the Captain's participation in your event?" asked Mr. Nelson. "How nice that we can be so frank with one another," Mrs. Smith-Martyn snarled. "My husband has always been an admirer and supporter of the Captain," she said, "and he remains so. That is his chief concern now, and it is mine. My husband has complete confidence in The Captain's honor. He has always behaved honorably and has sacrificed a great deal in service to the Crown. This — this scandal — is hardly the recompense he deserves." This, Mrs. Smith-Martyn claimed, was her motivation for the extreme measure of taking tea at the Ritz: the Captain's honor, rather than her own. She might have gotten further with another editor; it was not the Sentinel-Observer that was printing items of gossip linking her with "her friend, the mighty Captain X." These had spurred a growing tide of letters from soldiers who had served under the still anonymous captain, claiming they recognized him unmistakably from the photograph and describing superhuman feats they imputed to him. All respected his anonymity, and always there were the debunkers. Reports of his carrying wounded and dead soldiers for miles, two and three bodies at a time, were met with letters from angry retired brigadiers saying that such exploits — were they possible — would have exposed him and his men to needless risk. Most of all there was the outrage over the Captain permitting himself to be displayed in an undignified manner in not one but two tableaux vivantes. Such conduct was irreducibly feminine and "an insult to the British soldier," according to a retired lieutenant-colonel. But then, according to a retired brigadier general's angry response, the real insult was that a comfortably retired career soldier would question the honor one who, after demonstrating valor on the battlefield, volunteered his services for the benefit of his men even while on leave, and cut "an undeniably heroic figure" in which the nation could take justifiable pride. Two days later it was agreed that Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Martyn would bring Captain X to the offices of the Sentinel-Observer, but still keep his identity unrevealed. Mr. Nelson had an unrevealed plan of his own to revive the story: The hapless T.J. Jones would come along and make threatening gestures as if to accost Mrs. Smith-Martyn as she, her husband and the Captain were leaving the Observer's offices, whereupon the Mighty Captain might very well make to rescue her. If it were to develop into a police matter, that would probably force the Captain to identify himself. More often such ruses unfolded in ways that could not be anticipated, but that made for good copy nonetheless. The arrival of Captain X with the Smith-Martyns certainly supported the account Mr. Nelson had sat through at the Ritz. He was magnificent-looking in uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, in a belted jacket gusseted in back at the shoulders — it was probably the only way he could be fitted. It seemed that his arms might burst their sleeves. He conducted himself with military reserve; Mr. Smith-Martyn did most of the talking. But the three visitors sensed a certain pointlessness in their discussions with Mr. Nelson, who offered them nothing more than his assurance that the Sentinel-Observer bore no animus against the Captain and would be open to favorable coverage of him so long as it met the standards of newsworthiness…and so long as they actually knew who it was they were covering. The ruse was staged by the hapless T.J. Jones as the threesome left the building: Just as instructed, he confronted Mrs. Smith-Martyn and said "Madame, I believe that is mine," clamping his hand around her small handbag. Whereupon the Captain stepped in front of him and slapped him with the back of his right hand. Time slowed as they watched: the gesture seemed modest, but oddly, T.J. Jones's head snapped violently back and his body went skidding down the street as if a locomotive had rammed it. Mrs. Smith-Martyn rushed up to the crumpled Mr. Jones and said "Heavens, his neck must be broken!" Happily, she was wrong. They all enjoyed the hospitality of the police in separate quarters — Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Martyn in one room, Mssrs. Jones and Nelson in another, and the Captain by himself with a uniformed officer. The Smith-Martyns were sent home after about thirty seconds. Down the hall, the Captain looked sullen and defeated again, as he did when posing as the Farnese Hercules. "Are you the Mighty Captain X?" a uniformed officer asked him. "Is that fellow all right?" the Captain answered. "No thanks to you," said the officer. "He accosted my friend. I was only defending her." The officer unfolded what turned out to be page 8 from the Sentinel-Observer. "Is that you?" he asked. Perhaps there was no point in denying it. But he hadn't done anything wrong, so why should he answer? The problem with this police interrogation, aside from its being groundless, was that it was being met with the military answers of a prisoner of war, and getting nowhere. Finally the Captain was asked, "are you aware that this matter was what you might call a prank gone wrong?" The Captain said nothing at first, then asked, "May I go now?" His interrogator seemed to find this question difficult to answer, and simply ignored it. "Whose prank?" "It was the newspaper," the officer said. "We cooperate with them, and they cooperate with us. One hand washes the other. It's all about information. That's the way it works, innit?" "May I go now?" the Captain asked. "If you don't mind, I'll have to ask you to remove your jacket and your shirt," said the officer. "Why should I do that?" asked the Captain. The officer laid the article on the table in front of the Captain. "Because I'd like to see if that's you," he said. After a long silence he added, "I think it is." "I don't see why that should be a police matter," said the Captain. "A lot of people are very unhappy with what went on at the home of the Smith-Martyns," said the officer. "A lot of people want to know just who you are. It's all about the information, innit?" "I'll be going now," said the Captain. "I took the precaution of locking the door to this room," said the officer. The door was painted iron, spotty, with a barred window above eye-level. "You have no reason to detain me," said the Captain. "You cannot detain me." "Is that you? Are you Captain X?" "This has gotten so far out of hand," said the Captain. "It's too absurd. What possible difference could it make if I am or am not Captain X?" "Tell me! Are you Captain X!" It was too much. The captain stood, faced his interrogator across the table, and slowly disrobed — unbuttoning his jacket, then his shirt, then the vest underneath. His shoulders, chest and arms seemed to expand before the officer's eyes as they were liberated from the clothes that had concealed them. The sinews were packed onto his massive body, the chest and arms far larger and more severe than anything the officer could have imagined, the muscles of his abdomen so much more pronounced than on an ancient shield. Those images seemed childish by comparison. But when the Captain picked grasped his clothes and turned his back on the officer, that was even more fearsome — his back, with its curving ridges. The officer had never seen anything even suggesting such contours as those. "I'll be going now," said the Captain. "Cor," said the officer, as the Captain walked up to the door. The lock had a latch handle that did not yield at first, but the Captain broke it off without much effort. "Oh, hard luck, the lock broke," he declared. He tentatively punched what remained of the lock, then decided the better of it and gripped the door's barred window. His back and shoulders swelled proudly and he smiled as he easily shook the door off its hinges, then tossed it in onto the floor. "It feels good to do that," he said. "I'm so glad to be of service. That door needed replacing, as you can see. The hinges were compromised and the lock is defective." He slipped his shirt back on and headed into the hallway as the officer looked on, gaping. "You are Captain X," said the officer. The Captain turned back to face his interrogator. With his shirt only partway buttoned, the sinews of his chest were still intimidatingly in view. "I'm Captain Morris," he said. He didn't know if His Majesty's forces would look for him. But in America, they would never find him.
  8. Hey everyone! I thought I'd give you guys a treat today with TWO chapters. Not one, but two. I'm really thankful for the response you guys have given the story so far. AND I'll still be posting the next chapter sometime this week. I hope you guys enjoy, and as always comments are appreciated (even bad ones!) Chapter One Chapter Two Hard Mountain - Chapter Three: The next morning my mind was still reeling from what I’d heard in the night. I couldn’t believe they had been having sex. Masturbation I might believe, despite how weird both them doing it together would be, but fucking each other? I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t hear any other other noises except for their voices, no thudding or creaking furniture, so it seemed a more plausible explanation. As I went downstairs, they were both in the kitchen in sweaty gym gear looking pumped. Jack was cooking while Danny was eating a breakfast of bacon, sausage and egg whites. Danny looked up as I entered, smiling. “Morning Sam, how’d you sleep?” asked Danny. “Uh, great, thanks,” I replied. Jack turned around with a skillet from the counter in hand as I took a seat at the breakfast bar, loading food onto a plate. “Hope we didn’t wake you earlier,” said Jack, putting the plate down in front of me. “E-earlier?” I stammered, trying not to blush. “Yeah, we get a little rowdy when we’re working out,” said Jack. “Oh! No, I didn’t even hear you get up,” I said, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. Glad that they didn’t suspect I’d heard anything last night, I spent breakfast covertly observing the two of them. They acted like any other father and son, nothing suspicious at all in terms of body language. Nothing to suggest their relationship was anything other than familial. After breakfast, I helped Jack pack up our lunches (more meat and veg) while Danny packed up some gear for our adventure to the caves. As the morning went by I began to relax a little more. Jack walked ahead as Danny discussed all the upcoming Marvel films with me. He looked great in a tank and shorts, Jack was wearing something similar, and it complemented their great bodies. Sometimes I’d glance down at the ground to watch Danny’s calves bulge with each step, though at one point I wasn’t paying attention and tripped on a root. Danny caught me, luckily, saving me from embarrassment. The caves were amazing and pretty deep, and thankfully not too tricky to traverse. Though at one point I was having trouble climbing up a high part and Jack lifted me up like I weighed nothing, making my tight briefs even tighter at the show of strength. Eventually we came to a sizeable part of the cave with a small lake, dimly lit by a few beams of sunlight that had managed to get through. The air was cool which felt pleasant after walking in the hot sun all morning. Jack pulled a big lamp out of his bag for a little more light and settled down for lunch. Jack and Danny talked about some of the other times they’d gone exploring and I listened, enraptured. They had some great memories together and they were always funny. I even shared a few vacation stories of my own, including the time my sister managed to get lost in Paris and we found her a few streets away, eating ice cream with some French drag queens who’d been fussing over her like mother hens. “I’m gonna go for a swim,” said Danny once he’d eaten. “Anyone wanna join?” “No thanks, kid,” laughed Jack. “That water is gonna be freezing and I like my junk toasty.” Danny looked at me but I made a face, I wasn’t keen. “Suit yourself,” shrugged Danny. He shucked off his clothes, even his boxer briefs and walked to the water. My cock was desperately trying to escape my briefs at the sight of Danny’s naked back, his glutes and legs coiling and flexing with every step. It was like watching one of the ancient Greek statues in motion, and I found it hard to look away. “Not a skinny dipper?” asked Jack, bringing me back to reality. “Uh-um, n-no,” I stuttered. “I’ve never done it.” “Well there’s no shame in that,” said Jack. “I prefer going in the stream not far from the cabin because it’s warmer.” “Oh, cool,” I said. “I kind of want to, it’s just…” I looked down at myself, drawing my knees a little closer my underwhelming chest. As much as I drooled over the bigger men, I felt incredibly self-conscious about my own body. I avoided gyms because I felt like everyone would laugh at me. Danny had even offered to workout with me, give me pointers, but my anxieties made me feel like everyone would look at him, then look at me and then feel pitiful at how much smaller I was. I never tried because if I did and failed, I would feel weak. “Hey, Sammy,” said Jack, soothingly. “There’s no need to feel modest. We’re all guys here, nothing we haven’t seen before. No one’s gonna judge you.” I felt Jack’s big hand rub my back comfortingly and it felt nice. “Danny and me, we’re big guys,” said Jack. “It’s just how we are. But there’s no shame in being smaller or feeling awkward.” He smiled and it was infectious because I smiled back. I stood up and undressed, walking to the water’s edge. Danny was swimming about and I dipped my toe in the water. I cursed under my breath at the wave of cold that hit me. The water was freezing and I wanted to go back. “Just get in!” shouted Danny, who could see all of me fairly easily as my hands were tucked in my armpits. Luckily the cold had shrunk my boner. I took a deep breath and practically ran into the water. “FUCK!” I exclaimed as cold took over me. I waded further in and began swimming toward Danny as my body started to adjust. We started splashing each other, which soon became a game of grab ass. Jack watched from the shore, smiling. Our games in the water got very hands-on. Sometimes my hands would brush against his body and I’d feel the hard bulge of muscle pushing against Danny’s skin. Even with those brief touches, I marvelled at how solid Danny was. The water would just fall perfectly down his smooth body, manoeuvring through the ridges of every muscle group. Even just watching him breathe, his abdominal muscles contracting with every breath, was a beautiful sight. At one point Danny came up behind me and wrapped his body around mine to pull me under the water. I could feel his soft junk pressed against my ass and I fought every urge to get hard, to moan at the touch, feeling his hard muscles pushing against me as he held me tight. After a while we were both getting a little tired and we still had to get back so we made our way over to the shore. As we got closer and the water was only up to our calves, my foot suddenly slipped and I stumbled. I managed to grab Danny to stop myself from falling but my ankle was throbbing, pain shooting up my leg. “You okay?” asked Danny, a little panicked, his hands steadying me. “Ye-yeah I think so,” I said, wincing. I took another step but as soon as I put weight on my foot there was more pain and I couldn’t help but wince again. Within seconds Danny had scooped me up and was carrying me to the shore where Jack was now standing. “I think it’s his foot,” said Danny to Jack, his voice full of worry. Jack grabbed a towel from one of the bags and put it down so Danny could lay me on the ground. Danny looked incredibly worried but Jack kept an air of calm. “I don’t see any blood or cuts, which foot is it?” asked Jack. “My left, it’s my ankle,” I hissed. Jack took my ankle in his hands and gently squeezed, sending pain back up my leg. I managed to hold back a sob. “Can you move it?” asked Jack calmly. “Just wriggle your foot for me.” I managed to move it but it hurt to do so. Jack sighed in relief. “It’s alright Sammy, you just sprained it, nothing broken,” he said. “Danny, pass me the first aid kit.” Danny did as he was told, almost never taking his eyes off me from worry, and Jack grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped my ankle up. “There we go, should be good as new within a few days if you keep your weight off it,” said Jack. Danny handed me another towel so I could dry myself off. They both helped me get my shorts back on. I felt so pathetic and weak; only I would manage to sprain my ankle deep in some caves. I felt even more pathetic when Danny hoisted me up and carried me on his back on the way out. Jack thought it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to even try and take the way out of the caves with my ankle and Danny just picked me up without a word. I felt bad because Jack had to carry all our bags but they both kept the mood light. It felt nice to be carried by Danny, another show of incredible strength and endurance, he didn’t even stop once. At one point my hand brushed his tank top covered pec and it flexed on instinct. Thankfully my throbbing ankle kept anything else from throbbing. -- Hard Mountain - Chapter Four: It had been a couple of days since my epic fail at the caves and my ankle was definitely feeling better. When we got back, Danny played nurse and brought food to my room and even helped me into the shower in the morning. After the first day, I could get around pretty much by myself but Jack insisted I stay in bed. They even unhooked the big TV in the lounge and brought it up for a movie marathon. After three days I could walk pretty much fine and took my bandages off, joining them for breakfast. “Feeling better?” asked Jack, putting a big plate of meat and egg whites in front of me before I’d even sat down. “Loads,” I said. “Sorry for being a cripple.” “Nonsense, these things happen,” said Jack. “Danny used to get all sorts of injuries, always tripping over something.” “He still does,” I chuckled. “On our first day of college, we’d just picked up breakfast from the food hall and Danny managed to trip over nothing. His tray went flying, the food went everywhere and it was hilarious. I don’t think Vanessa Carmichael has ever liked you since you got milk and cereal all in her hair.” Jack let out a roaring laugh and Danny playfully pouted. I was definitely getting more comfortable with Danny and Jack, plus I hadn’t heard any more middle of the night noises from them. “So boys, I need to head into to town today to pick up a few things,” said Jack. “I’m all out of beer because some thirsty asshole has drunk most of it.” Danny pretended to look innocent. Over the last few days, I found that Danny could knock back more than a few beers and not even feel it. Even I was drinking more, though not too many. “Anyway, anything you guys want while I’m gone?” We both shook our heads and Jack went up to go shower his workout sweat off before he left, so Danny and I cleaned up. “You think you can manage a walk today?” Danny asked as I was putting dishes away. “Yeah,” I said enthusiastically. “Great, we won’t do anything too strenuous,” said Danny. “There’s a great little place nearby in the forest and it’s all flat ground.” We finished up, packed a little lunch, Danny showered and changed before went out. Danny led us to a small clearing with plenty of shade only half hours walk away and we sat down on the ground close to each other. “Are you having a good time here?” asked Danny. I nodded. “It’s been really nice, and your dad is great. He’s really cool.” Danny smiled happily. “I’ve never invited anyone up here before. I’m glad I get to share it with you. And I really hope we can get a good apartment off-campus next year.” “Me too,” I said. “You’re pretty easy to live with. Though it’ll be weird when we graduate. My sister said it took her a while to get used to things once she went onto her masters and her old roommates had left, she’d gotten so used to living with them.” “Yeah, I can imagine,” said Danny, a little quieter than usual. He was silent for a few seconds, pulling at the grass before he spoke again. “So what do you think you’ll do when you graduate?” “I dunno,” I replied. “I’ve not really thought about it. You?” “Well, I’ll probably take my LSAT and go to Law school,” said Danny, sighing. My eyebrow rose. “But isn’t that what you want to do?” “I do, but…” Danny paused. “I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. But… I know this sounds so stupid but I when I finish undergrad, I kinda wanna go to Europe.” “Europe?” I asked, smiling bemused. “Why’s that stupid?” “It’s not, I guess,” replied Danny. “I just… I’ve been in education almost my whole life and I’d like a break, you know? Take a year off and go to all the capitals in Europe, see something different and new.” “Have you talked to your Dad about it?” I asked. Danny shook his head. “I know I should but I don’t want him to say no. I think he’ll just say I should go to law school first, but if I do then I’ll have to go straight into a law firm and start working and then I’ll never be able to go until I’m older and have a ton more responsibilities. I’d never be able to really enjoy myself that way.” I put my hand on his knee comfortingly. “Plus… I do want to be a lawyer but I also want to…” said Danny, before stopping. It was weird seeing Danny so unsure of himself. Despite his odd clumsiness, Danny practically exuberated confidence. It was a sight to see such a big guy, who’d normally held himself like a pillar of strength, picking at grass and wildflowers in frustration. “Want to…?” I encouraged. “Come on Danny, I’m not gonna judge you. What do you want to do?” Danny sighed and looked up at me, looking a little embarrassed. “I wanna… I wanna be like one of those pro bodybuilders,” said Danny, blushing. “You mean like those guys who go on stage and flex their muscles?” I asked, feigning any knowledge of bodybuilding, though my cock was growing hard at the thought of Danny in skimpy posers. “Yeah, I wanna do that,” he said, hanging his head. “You think it’s stupid right?” “Absolutely not!” I exclaimed. “I think that would be awesome!” “Really?” asked Danny with a small smile. “Yeah, I mean, look at you!” I said. “How many nineteen year olds are as big as you are? You could probably start doing it now, you’re pretty big as it is and I’m sure there’s some local competitions by campus.” “But Dad… he said…” said Danny. “In the past he said those things were stupid. I know he’s a big guy and when I was growing up, I asked why he didn’t do it as he just kept getting bigger and bigger and he said that it wasn’t a real job, that he didn’t need to prove himself that way.” “But I bet he’d be happy for you if you wanted to do it,” I said. “I’ve only known your Dad a few days but I can tell he just wants you to be happy. You won’t know that unless you talk to him.” Danny nodded. “Thanks Sam, I’m so glad you understand. I’ve never told anyone that stuff before. It… it feels so good to get it off my chest, you know? You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” Before I knew what was happening, Danny had pulled me into a tight hug. His hard muscles pushed into my body and warmth emanating from under his skin that felt so good to be enveloped in. He smelled so good and I wanted to kiss him so badly. But I couldn’t, because if I was wrong then I knew I would lose him. We headed back to the house later in the afternoon. Jack hadn’t come back yet so we hung out in my room. We took the lounge TV from my room back downstairs and then spent an hour talking about Danny’s trip to Europe. I’d been to France and Italy so I told some anecdotes from my vacations there and Danny hung on every word. “Maybe if you time it right, and you do well at some comps here, you could enter some European competitions,” I said. “Really build up your profile overseas.” “Sounds like a good idea,” said Danny, smiling excitedly. “And you would come with me, right?” I paused at Danny’s question. My family didn’t have that kind of money to pay for me to live abroad for a year. What savings they had went on paying for college tuition and living expenses for both my sister and me so we wouldn’t be in debt when we graduated. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “We’ll see.” “If it’s the money you’re worried about, don’t be,” said Danny. “I have a trust fund I get access to when I’m twenty-one. It should cover us both.” “You don’t have to do that!” I protested. “But I want to,” said Danny, smiling. “I want you come with me. It would be boring if I was by myself and you’re my best friend, so we’d have a ton of fun. Whaddya say? Come and keep this idiot company?” I laughed, shaking my head. “Fine, fine,” I said. “But you’re not an idiot, Danny. You’re a decent, intelligent guy. A little clumsy sometimes but no one’s perfect.” “I’m really glad we’re friends, Sam,” said Danny. “You just… get me. You don’t think I’m weird and it’s been so easy to be open with you, which is something. I’ve never met anyone I could be myself around without feeling awkward, I find it hard to connect with people and all through school I closed myself off and pushed people away. Living with you has helped me open up more and I’m really grateful for that, Sam.” “To be honest, when we first met I thought you were a meathead,” I said, which made Danny laugh. “But I guess the old saying is right, never judge a book by its cover. I’ve never clicked with someone so quickly before either.” Danny smiled his goofy smile and we got talking about bodybuilding. I asked him a bunch of questions, pretending I knew nothing about it so I could hear Danny’s thoughts on the subject. He liked a lot of the bodybuilders I did and the way he described them made my cock throb. “Okay, so I need an unbiased opinion,” said Danny, getting off the bed. “I’ve been practising a routine when you’ve been at your book club thing.” “Literary discussion group,” I corrected him. “How many times do I have to tell you?” “Yeah, that thing,” chuckled Danny. “So like I said, I’ve been practising a routine and I just want an honest opinion. Do you mind?” I tried not to turn bright red but I had no idea if I succeeded. “Sure, show me what you got,” I said, nervously. Danny pulled off his t-shirt and pushed his shorts down his legs until he stood in his boxer briefs. I didn’t know where to look, especially trying to avoid his bulging crotch, but I had to keep my eyes on him. He pulled the bottoms of his underwear up and tucked them into the waistband so he could show as much skin as possible. I could feel myself getting warmer and I put my hands on my lap to hide any signs of tenting. Danny began his routine, sucking his breath is and flexing each individual muscle group as hard as he could to make them stand out to the max. I gulped, swallowing down saliva, watching him flex. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to run over and start groping his big, flexed muscles and run my tongue over them. My fantasies were coming true, being in the unfettered presence of real, near-naked big muscles. But it was like visiting the Louvre, you could stand close to beautiful pieces of art but you just couldn’t touch it. Danny finished his routine with a most muscular and I clapped. I didn’t even realise I was doing it but he enjoyed it, finishing the pose and bowing. “So?” said Danny, out of breath and sweaty. “What d’you think?” “Wow,” I said, taken aback. “You looked great!” “Anything I could do better?” asked Danny. I ran over the routine in my mind and bit my lip. It made me look like I was thinking, but I was trying to stop myself from moaning. “If anything, you looked good; certainly showed everything off,” I said, clearing my throat. “But it’s a little all over the place. Don’t get me wrong, it was good but maybe just have a little more… natural progression. Like… your upper body is probably your best area, it had the best definition. So maybe start from the bottom and work your way up. That way you’re drawing the eyes up. Danny nodded in understanding. “I’m gonna work harder on my legs, really get them standing out,” he said. “They look amazing already,” I said, blushing. “Thanks, Sam,” said Danny, sitting on the bed and putting a hand on my shoulder. “It’s really helpful to know these things, and I’ll keep working hard until you think it’s perfect.” “Glad I could help,” I said, glowing red by that point. “I think you’re gonna do really well.” “I know I will, because you’ll be there with me,” he said. “Every step of the way. I want you there cheering me on.” I nodded. “Absolutely!” -- Chapter Five: Jack takes Sam to the stream and his junk definitely doesn't shrink...
  9. Newmassaddict

    growth Growth Part 7

    Sorry it's taken so long for a new instalment. I hope you enjoy it. Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE 7 I had a set of keys to the gym. I had gotten them from the hot muscle head that worked the front counter. He knew he could have gotten fired for giving them to me but he would have done anything to have my attention, even for a few minutes. I had him meet me there one night and he gave me a pretty great blow job. Tyler and I practical ran through the front doors. We were both riding high from the massive doses of roids coursing through our veins coupled with our intense muscle sex a few hours before. We headed straight to the weights. I stepped behind Tyler, grabbed hold of his hoodie and with one savage tug, pulled it clean off his body. He smiled and hit a most muscular pose in the mirror. “FUCK YEAH” he bellowed “I want to make this 280lb look pathetic and small!” I stepped in front of him and started to pound my fists on his flexed pecs. The sound of the impacts echoed throughout the empty gym. “You won't even recognize yourself in a few weeks” I said. I was wearing a t-shirt that was already stretched to its limits. I started to lift it up but Tyler stopped me. “Get so pumped you tear that shirt off.” “OH YEAH” I screamed and walked towards the dumbbells. I hoisted the 75lb dumbbells off the rack and started doing curls. Instantly my massive 25” biceps swelled. Tyler counted each perfect rep. “…fourteen, fifteen, KEEP GOING, sixteen, seventeen…” he counted. At twenty reps I let the weights drop to the ground with a loud crash. I stepped over them and grabbed the 100lbs and started to curl. When the gym is busy I always get some terrified stares when I use these. I can see the looks on the other peoples faces. Their wide eyes drive me to power though a few extra reps. Nothing gets me going when the “biggest” guys look totally defeated by the insane power I possess. Tonight it was just Tyler. At ten reps my arms are on fire. Veins as thick as garden hoses cover the surface. My smooth skin is glistening with sweat. My rhythm starts to slow and Tyler stepped in front of me. “COME ON!” he screams, spraying spit on my face. I curl the weight for the eleventh time and I’m about to drop it when Tyler leans in and starts to kiss me. He grabs hold of my waist and squeezes with all his strength. “Show me your POWER” he commands and steps aside. Something snapped in my head. I wanted Tyler to see there was no limit to my strength. I let out a primal scream and started to curl again. The pain was gone. All I was feeling were my biceps growing. I watched in the mirror as my arms exploded in size. My shirt was like a second skin. I managed to reach twenty reps before dropping the weights. I raised my arms into a double biceps pose. I flexed so hard my arms trembled from the effort. spit covered the mirror as I grunted and yelled. The fabric of the shirt could not hang on any longer. Each arm tore open. I straightened and re-flexed arms. I flared my monstrous lats and heard another rip. My vein covered lats erupted from the holes. I hit a most muscular pose and the remaining fabric on the back of shirt gave away. I peeled the sweat drenched remains from my body, wiped my face and tossed it aside. I turned to face Tyler. He was smiling widely. I grabbed him and kissed him with such force he stubbled back. I turned and walked towards the 120lbs. I could hear Tyler gasp behind me. I have used these dumbbells for curls before but I’ve never been able to do more then four reps. All I wanted right now was to torture my body more then I have ever experienced. I wanted pain, I needed pain. I grabbed the huge weighs. Instantly I felt pain radiating throughout my entire body. I looked down at my blood engorged arms. Thick, pulsing veins covered every inch. My forearms along looked bigger then most people’s quads. My dick started to get hard at the gruesome sight. Through gritted teeth I mumbled “I need to grow…” Tyler stepped behind and start to scream encouragement in my ear. I closed my eyes and started to curl the weights. I managed three perfect reps before the pain became unbearable. I opened my eyes and looked at my hulking 335lb body. I looked demented. A deformed creature not from this planet. “F-F-Fuck me” I bellowed. Tyler looked shocked but didn’t hesitate to pull down my shorts. His strong hands kneed my striated glutes. He pulled down his own shorts and exposed his raging hard-on. Without wasting any time, he drove his cock into my ass and started to pound me hard. Staring at our massive bodies in the mirror I started to curl the weights again. Keeping rhythm with Tyler's powerful trusted I felt unstoppable. Adrenaline coursed though my veins. Every inch of my body screamed for me to stop but I couldn’t. I needed my arms to explode with more dense muscle then anyone had ever seen. I don’t know how many reps I managed to complete with the 120lb dumbbells before I let them fall to the ground. Tyler pushed me into the weight rack and started to pound my ass with renewed intensity. He kept muttering “sssoo fucking massive”. Thirty seconds later he pulled his cock out and spayed a humungous load all over the mirrors while I collapsed on the floor. “That was the most incredible sight I have ever seen.” Tyler said, standing over my exhausted body. “You look bigger than ever. LOOK at your arms!” I smiled and tried to flex my biceps but they barely moved. Still naked; Tyler walked to the squat bar and loaded a 45lb plate on either side. I rolled to my side and managed to get back on my feet. I hobbled to him as he curled the weight very rapidly. I stood behind Tyler and marvelled at the massiveness of his back and shoulders. He barely resembled the young stud I first met only months before. I stepped closer to the beast and ran my hands over his huge biceps as he continued to curl. I leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Out power me. Show me what you can do.” Tyler bite his lip and dropped the bar. Without a moment of rest he added another 45lb plate to either side of the squat bar and with 225lb now loaded he positioned himself between me and the rack. He let out a little grunt and hoisted the bar off the supports. He managed fourteen perfect reps before the pain was too intense. He could not curl the weight past his waist. His whole body was shaking and waves of heat was radiating off him. He stopped trying to lift the weight; letting it hang with his arms extended. Tyler lowered his head and closed his eyes. I took a step back and watched his reflection in the mirror. He stood motionless for a long time before raising his head. The look in his eyes caused a chill to run up my spine. Suddenly the heavy weight started to move. Tyler was able to curl it again but to my amazement, he didn’t stop at the top of the rep. Instead; he pressed the weight over his head. Sweat and spit flew out of his mouth as he powered to weight higher. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a savage bellow and slowly lowered the bar behind his head! I stumbled backwards and sat on a nearby bench as Tyler started to preform perfect overhead tricep extensions with 225lb. Gruesome veins erupted over the surface of his triceps and forearms as he moved the weight up and down. I watched open-mouthed as he reached eight reps before the bar came crashing down behind him. Tyler turned towards me. His bloated upper body looked torn from a bodybuilding magazine. He was breathing heavily and sweat was pouring off his body. His massive pecs twitched and flexed with each breath. He raised his enormous arms and hit a devastating double bicep pose. His cock was rock hard and dripped with cum. He couldn’t form complete words but grunted and mumbled as he flexed harder. His whole body trembled with effort. I started to stroke my own hard cock at the sight. Seeing my reaction to his muscle engorged display made Tyler smile. “You like what you see big man? You made me into this freak. I feel so fucking huge right now. Like I could pull this whole building down with my bare hands.” Tyler released his mammoth flex and walked back to the squat rack. He hoisted the huge weight and turned to face me again. He started to curl the weight again. The pain of his face was obvious but he was determined to keep lifting. His cock slapped against his wet smooth abs. I stood to face the beast as I started to cum. I sprayed a huge load all over Tyler’s massive frame. He screamed and curled the weight for the seventh rep but didn’t let the bar drop. His arms looked like they were boulders of granite. He locked eyes with my and suddenly I feel his hot cum splashing off my chest. Tyler dropped the weight, grabbed me around my waist and kissed me hard as his arms pressed into my thick muscled torso. He held me in his arms for a long time while we kissed. Finally his arms gave out and we both collapsed to the floor. I slide my cock into his striated ass and started to pound him hard. We both grunted from the force. Tyler flexed his back causing me to cum in minutes at the site. We both rolled onto the ground, breathing heavy and causing a puddle of sweat around our naked bodies. We both decided it was time to shower and go find somewhere to eat when we heard a metallic crash from the other side of the gym. We both stood up and saw a shadow move in the dark corner of the weight room. There was someone watching us.
  10. Newmassaddict

    growth Growth Part 4

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE 4 I started Tyler on a new steroid cycle the next day. I told him it was pretty potent but he didn’t care. He said he’d do anything to grow massive. I adjusted my own dosage to ensure I was growing even faster. I wanted to leave my 300lb weight in the dust. We started to workout quite often and I could definitely see impressive gains in Tyler. I responded well on the new gear and was closing in on 315lbs in just three weeks. On one particular day we had meet at the gym to train chest. My tank top was nearly tearing off my body as I walked onto the gym floor. I could feel all eyes on me. In awe of my size, power and raw sex appeal. I spotted Tyler near the benches. When he noticed me coming his eyes lit up, he licked his lips and placed his hands near his crotch. He was already 250lbs and looked fucking hot even at a distance. We warmed up with bench press and both had a good pump starting when we started increasing the weight. I completed 12 perfect reps with four 45 pound plates on each side. My chest was swelling up and I was starting to sweat a lot. Standing over me Tyler watched with lust in his eyes. “Dave, you look fucking massive. Pump those pecs harder; make them grow” he encouraged. I racked the weights and at up. I flexed my enormous pecs and watched them swell in the mirror. Tyler performed 10 perfect reps before I had to help him with the last two. He grunted loudly but finished the set with good form. “One more on each side” I ordered and sat down and got ready to hoist the 495lb bar. “You’re a monster” Tyler said I lifted the bar without his help. I lowered the bar and paused for a few seconds before raising it back up. “Feel them” I grunted. Tyler quickly placed his hands on my rock hard pecs as I continued to press the heavy weight. I could feel him running his fingers along the deep striations and thick veins. He moaned as I completed 10 reps before racking the bar and stood up. I hit a few poses in the mirror as people started to gather around us. I could see fear in the eyes of a few men. A couple were visible hard watching me flex. “Two more!” I yelled. Tyler looked doubtful but one look at my face told him I was serious. With 585lbs loaded on the bar, I sat down and started to get ready to lift the massive weight. I stared at my swollen body in the mirror, bounced my blood filled pecs and let out a few screams. I balled up my big meaty hands and started to punch each pec hard. Sweat sprayed and my pecs started to throb. I looked like a wild animal as I laid on the bench. I wrapped my hands around the bar and squeezed so hard I felt like to could bend the heavy metal bar. I let out one guttural scream and powered to bar off the rack. I heard gasps from the large crowd that had gathered. The bar felt incredibly heavy and sagged from the number of plates on each end. My pecs screamed with pain as I lowered the bar. I let it touch my skin for a second before I pushed the weight back up. My arms trembled but the weight kept moving. When I reached the top I could see Tyler ready to grab the bar. “NO!!!” I screamed and started to lower the bar again. The pain coursing through my pecs tripled but I refused to give up. I felt the bar touch my chest again and with every ounce of strength I started to press it back up. When it reached the top I let a low grunt that signalled to Tyler I was finished. He grabbed the bar and slammed it onto the rack. I couldn’t move. I let my arms fall to my sides as I gasped for breath. A full two minutes passed before I could sit up. What I saw in the reflection of the mirror was nothing short of amazing. My 315 pound body had morphed into a total muscle abomination. I was bigger and more vascular then any Mr Olympia competitor. My chest was so pumped my chin rested on it’s thick upper shelf. I looked around at the crowd and most of them had a look of horror on there faces. I moved into a most muscular pose and immediately heard tearing from my tank top fabric. The material around my pecs tore away. I peeled the rest of it off and hit the pose again. I moved closer to the mirror and hit a side chest pose. My chest flexed to it full 70” and jutted four inches beyond my ripped abs. My 25” biceps pressed against my inflated chest and my traps looked down right freakish. My thick back and shoulders made me look three feet thick from the side. It was a truly incredible sight. I walked up to Tyler and I could see fear in his eyes. “Lick the sweat off the world’s biggest pecs.” I commanded. Tyler’s jaw dropped and he looked around nervously. “What?” “You heard me. Lick the fucking sweat off these freaky pecs.” “Right here? In front of everyone? No!” He said. “Did it sound like I was asking little man!” I said loudly. I placed one huge hand around Tyler’s thick neck and pulled his head towards me. I could feel him resisting but I outmuscled him. I slammed his head into my left pec. The whole crowd could hear the impact. Tyler timidly started to lick the beads of sweat from my hot skin. “Faster!” I yelled and pressed his face harder. He started to lick faster as I flexed and bounced my swollen muscles. I looked at the crowd and laughed. “You see this! Even a big man like this can’t resist all this massive muscle.” I moved Tyler’s face to my right pec and he started to slurp the sweat. After a few minutes I let go of Tyler’s neck and he took a step back. He looked mortified. The crowd couldn’t believe I had humiliated him like that. I was so amped up I didn’t care. I walked towards the cable crossover machine and noticed Tyler hadn’t moved. I stopped and turned towards him. His eyes were staring at the floor. “TYLER!” I yelled. He hesitated but walked towards me. “Did I say we were done?” “N-No.” We started doing cable crossovers. We were both looking insanely huge. After a few sets we were both posing in the mirror and tyler finally started to smile again. By the time we finished we were both using the full stack of weights and sweat was puddling on the floor under us. As we walked to our last exercise; incline dumbbells I leaned into Tyler and whispered “A few more sets and it’ll be time for me to fuck your brains out.” Tyler swallowed hard and looked nervous. We performed four gruelling sets of dumbbell presses. I maxed out using 250lb dumbbells and Tyler maxed out with 175lbs. We waddled towards the locker room. As we passed the trash can Tyler fell to his knees and puked. I wasn’t sure if it was the workout or the humiliation that had gotten to him. He stood up and followed me out. I fucked him three times that night. When I wasn’t pounding his hard ass I was posing my mammoth body for him. I tossing his growing body around like a rag-doll, used him as a human weight and dominated every moment we spent together. We both came countless times and Tyler had a few bruises the next day. Tyler didn’t call me for a week. When he finally did it was to ask whether his steroid shipment had arrived. I could tell there was something different about him. He made an excuse as to why we couldn’t workout that week. I figured he needed to take a break but I knew he’d be back. No one could resist my freakish mass and power.
  11. Check out part 1 here: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2716-the-construction-projectthe-sexual-chemistrywhos-worshipping-who/(last story listed) The Construction Project sequel: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4583-constructing-more-projects-and-building-bigger-men-muscle-genie/?hl=worship The Sexual Chemistry sequel: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3717-the-scene-stealer-more-sexual-chemistry-muscle-genie/?hl=%2Bthe+%2Bscene+%2Bstealer After dumping load after load inside Caleb, Dorian finally stops and pulls his cock out of the smitten bottom to take a breather. The smooth bodybuilder turns around to give his hairy partner a huge bearhug before burying his head in his huge furry pecs. Dorian bounces them for him a few times to make Caleb moan loudly. The hairy stud loves every minute of it as he holds him in his massive arms. As he does this, he comes up with a great idea. ‘Hey Caleb…..perhaps we could invite someone to come here and join us? Not necessarily someone that is quite as big, but rather someone we could dominate. I have a friend that would be perfect for this. He won’t recognize me I know because the last time he saw me, I wasn’t this hairy.’ Caleb laughs and agrees that it would be a lot of fun to play around with a smaller guy. Dorian gets down on the ground and finds his cell phone lying beside the tattered fabric of what used to be his clothes. He grabs it and stands back up to dial the number of his close friend Joel, whom he has known for several years from when they were in school together. He hands the phone over to Caleb who seems really surprised that he would just give him the phone. Joel answers. ‘Hello? I don’t recognize this number, who is this?’ Caleb clears his throat and tells him that he needs his help in searching for Dorian and that he went to school with him back when they were kids. Joel asks what his name is and wants to know why he needs his help in finding Dorian. After a few minutes of back and forth, Joel finally agrees that he will meet him at the hotel, but that it would take probably an hour for him to get there since he is not in the same area. Caleb tells him that he will wait an hour then and hands the phone back to Dorian who hangs up. The two men laugh knowing that this could end up being a complete waste of time but that they have to try it just to see if it works. Dorian tells Caleb that he will have to find something to wear since he is without clothes. The smooth stud says that he can use his extra pair of posers and his leather pants and shirt that are sitting in his car. He grabs a pair of his shorts on the floor to put on and goes down to get them while Dorian goes into the bathroom to clean up a bit. After about thirty minutes, the hairy stud hears a knock on the door and goes to answer it. He peers through the hole in the door and gets a weird look on his face. For some reason, Caleb is smiling and directing his eyes to his left. ‘Ummm okay…..Caleb why don’t you just come back in man.’ ‘Heh well…..our guest seems to have arrived a bit early it seems. I actually ran into him down in the parking lot and he pretty much figured that I was the guy on the phone the way I described myself to him. I let him know that I found you and that you were waiting up here in the room. He was a bit apprehensive, but he agreed to come up.’ ‘Ohh *smiles* well then come on in.’ Dorian opens the door as Caleb rushes in and throws the leather outfit at the hairy man’s torso and motions for him to rush into the bathroom to put it on. He holds Joel back for a few seconds before letting him inside. The slightly overweight, but remarkably sexy biracial man enters and looks around in disbelief. He turns to look at Caleb and seems really irritated. ‘I know I just saw someone run into the bathroom. I saw their hairy ass bouncing as they closed the door.’ Caleb laughs a little before putting his hands on Joel’s shoulders trying to hold him in place. ‘I know, I know. He is wanting to surprise you I think. He apparently had a crush on you in school and just wanted to show you what he looks like now.’ The nervous man goes to sit on the bed while Caleb stands by the door. Joel looks at him and studies the huge man’s chest before scanning the bulge in the big guy’s shorts. Caleb smiles and makes it bounce a few times before crossing his arms and making the veins pulse and jump. The bathroom door opens and Dorian walks out in what is a skin tight leather shirt and the pants that his smooth skinned worship partner let him borrow. His cock is completely visible in the leather as it sits off to the side in them. Joel turns and looks completely shocked staring at Dorian’s bloated frame. He gulps a few times before looking into the hairy stud’s eyes. ‘I uhhhh…..I don’t know what to say. You can’t be Dorian Ames because he looks nothing like you. Of course…..I would have to see your upper body to know for sure.’ Dorian grins and walks over to him to stand in front of his face. He bounces his pecs and flexes his abs making each one protrude through the leather. Joel reaches out and pulls the shirt up to expose the hairy forest in between each abdominal. He sighs before running his hands up below both pecs and moans feeling the round edges of them. The sweat seems to be pouring quite a bit from his head now. Caleb walks over and stands next to Joel by the bed and grabs one of his hands to put it on his cock. ‘Uhhh guys……*seems very uncomfortable but won’t stop feeling them both* I’m not sure this is such a good idea. I am feeling kind of funny…..’ Joel lets out a few groans before Caleb and Dorian hear several pops coming from the man’s beefy body. Each time he breathes in and out, it looks like he is swelling which catches the eye of both musclemen. His dress shirt which hung loosely on him just a minute ago is looking a bit snug as the muscles in his chest and arms start to protrude from the layers of fat that once covered them. His legs stretch the fabric in his pants to its limits making a sound that the two big men have never heard before. Joel’s hands widen as he continues to caress both men. Caleb feels each finger thicken against his cock making him sigh as a stream of precum goes flowing down his leg. The growing biracial man feels his mind wandering as the hand on Dorian’s chest reaches for his leather shirt and completely yanks it off his body. Joel’s feet explode from his shoes as his pants rip open revealing his bloated cinnamon quads and round calves. They are not defined, but rather thick and immense. Joel’s back finally busts through the back of his shirt as the huge ripples and valleys that are making up his delts and lower back continue to expand. He grunts feeling his lats, traps, and shoulders swelling bigger on his frame as he looks down at the two inflating mountains filling in what was once deflated moobs. He roars as they bust through the front as every button goes flying around the room. His gut flops for a few seconds before it hardens and stretches to accommodate the huge abdominals sitting just below the many layers of fat. He finally pulls his hands away from the two men to get up from the bed to try to contain himself. His shirt is in tatters now as he pulls it off revealing his incredibly powerful upper body. His head is now reacting as his head expands and his neck stretches wider. Caleb pulls his own shorts off right before he launches several ropes of cum into the air. Dorian follows suit as he tries to yank his leather pants off. Joel’s final phase occurs when his flabby glutes triple in size and rip out the back of his boxers. The two men gasp staring at his incredibly huge brown ass. The now impressive Joel finally says something. ‘OHH FUCK! *very powerful voice* I feel…..fucking awesome! *feels his crotch growing* OHH FUCK YEAH!’ The sound of tearing fabric radiates from Joel’s crotch as his swelling balls and growing cock finally break free. Caleb and Dorian look down and stare intensely as his ballsac stretches to accommodate the two huge golf balls now inhabiting it. His cock swells and stretches several times before it finally unleashes a river of cum that coats the wall directly in front of him. He yells in delight before reaching down and ripping the remainder of his pants off. When he arrived at the hotel room, Joel was just a slightly overweight man who would have never wanted to show off his flabby body. Now after letting his emotions take over, he has transformed into a powerful beast capable of lifting both of the bodybuilders that summoned him there. He sighs several times before turning to look at the other two and smiling. They both look at him in complete shock. ‘MMMMM guys! Let’s get this party started because I am more than willing to service both of you! Then maybe, you can return the favor!’
  12. X: I haven't proof read it yet, but I can't seem to save it so make do, point out mistakes and I'll get back to it. *** Stephen had walked up to the gymnasium at least five times over the past couple days. Each time he'd wimp out and back off, only to build himself back up soon after and make it back out. The rugby team were meeting here, each day this week as the season started. They were preparing, getting ready for a tough year where their opponents looked bigger than ever. They had to get pumped up, gunning to win and Stephen wanted to be in there and be a part of that. Today he made it. The first thing he noticed when he swung open the door was the smell. Next was the noise. The grunts and moans of 20 men working out, pushing, pulling, pumping. All was accompanied by a musk, the stench of sweat and dirt that was just intoxicating. None looked up from what they were doing as Stephen entered. He wondered if they noticed him at all. Stephen had been working out for some time now but he felt he just couldn't pack the mass on. He'd look at himself in the mirror and flex and he'd notice the vascularity of his arms, the peak of his bis, how his peaks shifted under his skin as he bounced them around. He had rows of abs that were admired, by everyone but him. He was a pretty boy but he wanted to be thick. He wanted to have mounds of muscle packed upon each other, thick pecs resting below thick arms and a thick back. Just thick. He wanted to look in the mirror and get hard and he felt no better place than to get inspiration and support than the rugby team. The coach had noticed him as he walked in and approached him. "Hey! We're in the middle of training at the moment, if you'd like to come back later I think they co-" "No, no, I'm here for the team" Stephen cut him off "I want to join this year" The coach laughed "I'm not so sure mate, we're pretty much packed up this year" he pat his gut as he said that; it was firm "And we've got to be big y'know" Stephen noticed the coach look him up in down. Stephen was doing the same. The coach looked young, but mature. He had a heavy stubble on a perfectly sculpted jaw. Chest hair burst out of this coach shirt that must have been two sizes two small. It clung to him like wet, accentuating his broad back and chest, each nipple poking out, hard. He certainly didn't have abs but he wasn't fat. His gut was packed and powerful, he was built like a brick house. Along with the rest, his shorts left nothing to the imagination. That bulge was fascinating and his thighs pulled each short leg tight. He hadn't seen the coach's ass but he assumed it'd be much of the same. "Well what have you got?" Stephen realised he'd been gawking "Um, how do you mean?" He was getting hard, he could feel it. "Prove that you can make the team." The coach licked his lips "Drop and give me 50" Stephen did. And each one he pumped out coach counted. "1... 2... 3..." He got to 45 when he said "Okay, 100" "What?" Stephen slowed "Give me 100, hear me!" Stephen didn't answer, he kept pumping them out and he kept going after a hundred and the coach didn't stop counting. Eventually he collapsed under his own weight. The coach laughed "Oh man, that's a valiant effort" Stephen could feel his chest pound under his shirt. It felt tighter as it rubbed against his nipples. "You've got potential kid. Come with me" The coach started to walk away so Stephen dragged himself up and followed. He walked into the locker-room. Stephen was about to follow him when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Oi, what the fuck do you think you're doing here?" The voice was deep. Stephen turned around and came face to face with the thickest chest he'd seen in some time. Stephen wasn't short so this guy was tall and he was built. His body dripped with sweat, glistening under the gym light as he panted heavily. "Uh... well I'm looking to join the team" "Ha! You? I doubt it" this dude look Stephen up and down just like the coach did "Take your shirt off" "What?" "I said take your fucking shirt off" Stephen didn't hesitate. He peeled off his shirt and held it. The man in front of him took it from him and held it up. "Well you won't be needing this any more" So he tore it. Like paper, it fell to his feet. "I'm Mark, I'm the captain" Mark began to put forward his hand so Stephen instinctively mirrored and went in for a handshake. But Mark didn't stop. He went forward and put his hand on Stephen's chest. He rubbed it over and around, squeezing each pec and grabbing firm each nipple. His hand wandered down over his abs as he bit his lip. He nodded. "Turn around" Stephen did. He was getting hard. He stood there for a moment, in silence before Mark gave him a hard slap, right on his ass. "Yeah, don't worry, you'll be useful here" Mark walked away, a thick pair of glutes bouncing behind him. Stephen readjusted and made his way into the locker room. The coach was sitting there, legs wide. "What took you so long? I doesn't matter. I'm actually happy you showed up today, you'll be very helpful. A useful addition to the team" the coach got up and started rifling around in his bag. "So wait- I made the team?" "Uh, yeah sure" He was distracted "Just not right now, you gotta try something first. Come here." Stephen came close as the coach pulled something from the bottom of his bag. It was a clear box with a vial. And in his other hand was a capped syringe. "Coach I don't know if I can do that!" Stephen stood back "It's cheating and doesn't it fuck up your junk" The coach chuckled "No, it doesn't. And it's not that. It's something else. It'll get you on the team" Stephen was intrigued again. "You need to get big, and this will do it" The coach gave them both to Stephen. "I want you to go home and give yourself this. Just 20ccs. No more. Not yet. Then I want you to have a big meal. And I mean big, as much as you can get. Carbs, protein, you know, workout food. If you can get some shakes in there too, that'd be great. It should work" "Should?" "Well, yeah, this is a new batch. It can be hit and miss but I tried some on one of the players. It worked pretty well, you might've noticed him" Stephen thought he did. "Go on kid, get home. Come back tomorrow, this year's gonna be hard." *** Stephen sat at his dining room table. He pulled the vial out of the container and stuck the syringe in. He pulled out the recommended amount and stuck it into his arm. He felt nothing so he began to eat. Before him sat a personal buffet. He had pulled food out of the fridge, his meals for a week, three quarters of a left over chicken, a gallon of milk, beef, bacon. He poured himself out some protein shakes, he had cereals and toast and he began to ravage it all. The more he ate the more hungry he felt. He ate and he ate and he ate. He ate until he was full and he continued to eat until he was done. With it all. He ate more than he thought could fit in his stomach and it showed. He laid back and pat his full stomach. It was pronounced as his shirt rode up over it. As he rubbed it to sooth it, it began to grumble. It grumbled and grumbled and it shrunk. Immediately it went away, from bloated back to his washboard abs. He was amazed; it must have worked. Stephen didn't feel any bigger though. He was going to wait though, he trusted this would work. *** Stephen was getting ready. He was meeting with a friend later and he'd be over soon. Pulling over a shirt it felt tight. Not too much but it did feel like it was a stretch to get on. Same with the pants; tight around the calves. The door bell rang. "Hey man, how's it going?" "Oh you know" Stephen's friend Rob entered "Getting by." Rob entered the living room and sat down. "So what've you been up to?" "I went to try out for the rugby team today" "Oh no way, I didn't think you'd be interested in that" "Well, they let me in" "Congrats man! How'd you do it, suck the coach's dick?" He laughed Stephen blushed, he felt his body tighten "He gave me this stuff, to get me big" "Come on dude, you shouldn't get into that shit-" "No, it's not that it's like thi-" he paused. He felt his body shift. "Like this stuff that processes protein or something I don't know. Hey you want a drink?" "Sure." Stephen made his way to the kitchen. He felt a draft on his ankles. He looked down and saw his pants were shorter than they were just before. And they were tight. He felt it cling around his legs, stretched out. And his shirt felt like he'd picked out one from years ago. He wondered if it was noticeable. He brought the drinks in. Rob looked over as he came in and laughed "hey, you wanna go put on some proper clothes?" Stephen looked down. He noticed his treasure trailing poking from the bottom from his shirt. Was it thicker than usual? "I swear these fit earlier" "Ha, ha, very funny man now do-" *RIP* Stephen's pants tore down the side. His quads spilt out. They were definitely thicker than before. "Dude..." Rob's mouth was agape Stephen laughed and smiled, proud. He began to squat. His pants tore again, right across the ass. Standing back off he grabbed the front and pulled them right off. Standing in just his underwear he began to flex his legs. He was putting on a show for Rob. Then his focus turned upwards. Stephen turned around and flexed out his lats. He was wide and with it his shirt tore in two places, right on each side. Then he turned back and flexed his biceps. Each one tore through each sleeve. His shirt was shredded. As he pulled it off he began to take in his new body. The serum worked, he was much thicker. His abs weren't as defined but they were there and they felt powerful. He'd almost forgot Rob was in the room as he pulled a bunch of poses, each one turning him on a little more. Suddenly Rob's hand was on his chest. "I swear you weren't this big before" His finger rubbed over a nipple. It made Stephen harder. Stephen looked down and saw Rob had something growing in his pants. He smiled. Rob blushed and stepped back, picking up his bag. "I've got to go dude, something's come up." He rushed out the house. Stephen didn't mind, he had his own body to work with. He quickly made his way upstairs and stood in front of his full length mirror. His was definitely big. Pulling out some more poses he assessed his body. His biceps were like boulders, each one much thicker than before. They were longer and rounder and filled up each arm. His forearms matched, and were nicely vascular. His shoulders were like rocks. But it was his pecs that amazed him. They were round and heavy and soft in each hand. He bounced them and they rippled along his chest. He twerked each nipple, for each felt much rounder and thicker than before. They were suckable. His abs definitely weren't as visible but he felt strong. He was like an offseason bodybuilder early in their career. He loved the look. He was fully hard and leaking precum. His underwear was beginning to stain so he pulled them off, already fraying around the edges. His dick stood tall and full of girth. It was bigger than before. Grabbing it in his hand he began to rub as he looked down his body to his legs. His quads were fucking massive, powerful. His calves had to be seen to be believed. But his ass, oh his ass. Round and thick, he made each bun bounce. It was more than a bubble butt, it was a beachball butt. This would make Mark happy. That thought pushed him over the edge. He'd been stimulating his throbbing cock that seemed to just grow in his hands until he couldn't hold it back any more. He came and he came loads. All over the mirror, it dripped down the reflection of his brand new body. He fell back on his bed and smiled. Coach would be proud. END OF PART 1
  13. musclefan85

    posing Flex Show

    My first story! Not sure what are all the best tags to use for it, but I hope you all like it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It happed like this: I went into the locker room after my workout feeling incredibly swollen and exhausted. My Under Armour tank was drenched with sweat and stretched tightly over my skin. So was the underwear underneath my baggy gym shorts. I had pushed myself harder than I normally did, but it was so worth it to get that pump and see those veins running up and down my forearms. I instantly grabbed a protein shake and chugged it while walking over to the mirror to see my progress. There was no need to take off the shirt to know how good I looked. My abs were clearly pushing out the shirt in front of my stomach and I had these great striations in my arms for someone my size. Lean, tall, but built thick and solid with a neck and jaw line like a rock. Not much body hair, but I thought I looked pretty good with some short, spiky brown hair on my head. Yeah, looking at that buffer than most reflection I knew there was no way a girl wouldn’t think I was hot. Apparently, so did Andrew. I barely knew the guy before that day. I mean, I might have noticed him in the gym on the treadmill or something, but I never stopped to think about or talk to him. He kept to himself, and I did too. Nothing against the guy, I just didn’t ever really want to talk to him. But there he was, standing behind me and noticing how I was looking at myself in the mirror. “Nice arms” he said. I couldn’t say the same about him. I looked twice his size and he had next to nothing in development on his equally tall, but skinny frame. His blond hair was all gelled up and I could tell he had just tanned since he was wearing nothing but a black and red jockstrap, but man did he ever look sad in it. I couldn’t help but pity him as he stood there with his arms on his hips and a satisfied grin on his face. I admire a guy for starting to work out and having confidence, but he just looked ridiculous in this case. “Wanna see my muscles?” he asked. I chuckled. “Sure bud, after a couples years of working out. You might have a good build by then.” I turned around to face him, attempting to leave the locker room. “I think they look pretty good now” he said calmly as he put his hand on my shoulder. “I can show you my posing routine; it only takes a minute or two. After I’m done you can tell me what you think”. Andrew stood there for a moment waiting for a response. While this was happening he started to gently rub my shoulder, which was really weird, but for some reason I didn’t think so at the time. I just saw these big, blue puppy dog eyes and I thought “well, just to humour him, it’ll only take a minute” so I said “yes” and he walked over to the middle of the room to start his show. For some reason I started to feel really light headed. Maybe it was the log work out? I don’t know, but I went over to the bench opposite him so I could watch, thinking at the same time that he really did have these deep, blue eyes. Andrew started with a basic double bicep pose. Man it looked pathetic. Not much definition or size, but all the same he thought he looked great. After that he went on to do side chests from two angles before doing a lat spread. He did them all with the best timing and posing he could do, but anyone else would have easily just laughed at him. “Think I’m making some good progress in the gym?” he stopped to ask. I shrugged and said “sure dude”, just to avoid hurting his feelings. I started feeling hot again for some reason. I must have really tired myself with that workout. Even my heart was beating a little faster. Andrew then turned around to show me the same poses from behind. Equally lame from that angle, but I didn’t notice so much since I started feeling really fidgety and sweaty. “Did the air conditioning stop working?” I asked. “It might have, this isn’t exactly the most modern of gyms” He replied. I had to agree, but still it sucked to have to sit there in the increasingly stuffy heat. At least his routine would be over soon. He moved on to showing off his legs before bending his left one to do some more arm poses from a different height. “It’s worth it to work out your legs too. Don’t want to be and all upper body guy right?” He asked. “Yeah...sure” I stammered out. OK, this was getting ridiculous, how could he not notice the heat in here? Maybe it was because he was mostly naked, but still I was burning up and my clothes were even wetter than before. Worse, I could feel my underwear tightening around my crotch like I was getting hard or something. “You almost done buddy? I think I’d like to get to somewhere where the air works soon.” “Sure bro, just a few more poses.” He stood back up at his full height again before bending over to do a most (for him) muscular. He growled out as he did so saying “Dam, there’s nothing like a good pump!” This was when I really started to lose it. I was trying desperately to take my shirt off, but my hands couldn’t seem to get a grip on anything. I keep running them up and down my torso trying to grab onto some part of the fabric I could pull up, but it felt tighter than ever against my thick body. After what felt like several minutes I was finally able to grab the top part of my tank and quickly rip it off, tearing it straight down the middle. “Sorry about that man, I know Under Armour doesn’t come cheap”. I was hardly paying attention to him when he said this. I just threw my head back in relief at finally getting some of my clothes off. “Fuck, it’s hot in here” was all I could say. “Need some help with those shorts?” Andrew took a break from his show to help pull them off. I was grateful for the help, but horrified to see what was showing when they were removed. A full erection, as big as ever was tenting up my underwear like it was a real campsite. Since even they were soaked through with sweat it at least helped to hide whatever pre cum might have been there at the time. “Are...you...finished...yet?” I panted out as best I could. “Just about, I can see it’s getting pretty intense here for you. I’m feeling pretty hot and sweaty myself.” He began to not only flex, but rub his hands over his body too. His frame may have been thin, but his jockstrap was starting to look pretty stuffed at that moment. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him while this was happening. My hands were trembling as they reached for my cock and I began stroking it through the fabric of my underwear with both of them at the same time. “Aw yeah man, just a few more bicep poses.” I gripped my cock harder still as he went on to curl his arms again and again. Mine were on fire, veins swelling and muscles stretching as I felt them pump up more than they ever did doing curls. I jerked myself furiously as I felt the sweat running down my back, chest and abs and my face getting red. “Almost there” he continued with some more side chests. Was my cock getting even bigger?! I couldn’t tell because my eyes were glued to Andrew doing his posing routine. He did another most muscular while saying “Fuck yeah, look at that shit!” sticking out his tongue for added cockiness. I was at a loss for words, I had never been so turned on in my life and I didn’t know how much more I could take it. “Looks like you’re about ready” Andrew said as he moved towards me and took my underwear off. How he did so with my hands moving so much and so fast in the way, I don’t know, but he did and I just stared into his beautiful face the whole time. Being able to feel the skin of my dick just turned me on even more. I was gasping for air as Andrew went back to his spot to give me his last pose. “One more, just like Arnold!” he said before returning to the same double bicep pose he had started out with. “FUCK!” I didn’t even say it so much as roared like an animal as I was finally able to close my eyes and throw my head back as I blew load, after load of cum into the air and all over my body. Grunting and growling as it went on for forever, it seemed. Finally I was able to calm down and begin to focus on what had just happened. I looked around the room, but didn’t see Andrew anywhere. All I saw was the mess I had made of the room with my load, and some blond bodybuilder standing in the centre of the room wearing nothing but a bulging black and red jockstrap. “Pretty good show, huh?” he said in a deep, masculine voice. Oh my God, it was Andrew. “Nothing hotter than getting some stud to jerk off to a skinny guy for a change.” He said before walking over to me and slapping me on the back like I was some quarterback who had just made a touchdown. “We should do it again sometime, until then...” he used his fingers to lift my chin up and give me a long, deep kiss. Best I can remember. After that he turned around and started to walk away. Just before he got to the door, he picked up a towel and threw it to me. “You look like you might need this.” I caught it, but still couldn’t stand up for the next few minutes. All I could think of was that was probably the best posing routine I would ever see in my life. End