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  1. GlamRockCowboy

    no sex RE-POST: CINCO DE MAYO MUSCLE

    It's Cinco de Mayo time, so I'm re-posting a story I posted on this Forum several years ago. All of the participants are 18 years of age or older, and no sex is depicted. Enjoy! CINCO DE MAYO MUSCLE BY GLAMLEATHERPUNK A/K/A GLAMROCKCOWBOY (AUTHOR’S NOTE: In order to keep this story to a manageable length, I have kept the details about the history of Cinco de Mayo and its significance to the United States to the barest minimum. For more information on this subject, I invite the reader to consult Wikipedia, which has an excellent article giving full details. Enjoy!) It was Wednesday, May 3rd. 18-year-old Billy Masterson was busy at one of the terminals in the high school library, gathering information for a presentation he had been assigned to give to his speech class on Friday. He had just finished gathering the data he needed, and was working on the outline of his up-coming speech when he felt a massive but gentle hand on his shoulder. He paused and stretched for a moment, then looked up into the grinning, handsome face of his longtime best friend, Juan Ramirez. Juan and Billy had known each other since kindergarten. Their families owned neighboring horse ranches in a small town on the outskirts of Orange County, California. Juan’s sister, Rosita, who was now attending a private school, had been Billy’s girlfriend ever since the two had entered puberty. The two of them often double-dated with Juan and his long-time love, Ruby Johnson. Both youths were honor students, and champion cowboys besides. In addition, Juan had been into bodybuilding and powerlifting for a number of years, and he had a massive physique to prove it. Billy had tried going a similar route, but his body had utterly refused to respond. An examination by a sports medicine clinic had disclosed a high level of myostatin in Billy’s genetic makeup—so high, in fact, as to prevent his body from muscling up to any significant degree. As a result, despite the protests of the other cowboys, the rodeo team coach had arrogantly dismissed Billy from the team. The other cowboys had promptly withdrawn from the team in protest, and the coach had thereupon disbanded the rodeo program altogether. His arrogant remarks about Billy, his fellow cowhands, and the rodeo program had so incensed the parents involved that the coach had been transferred to another school, and had been fired soon afterward. The rodeo program had thereupon been reactivated at the parents’ insistence. Billy, however, had not been able to rejoin the team. An auto accident involving both of his parents, whose car had been rammed head-on by a drunk driver, followed by months of rehabilitation and therapy, had forced Billy to give up all after-school activities of any kind. Billy had taken on the role of the “man of the house,” taking care of his parents, and running the ranch as best he could. While his parents were now finally up and about again, Billy had been unable to avoid having to sell off most of the horses simply to keep the family afloat financially. One reason for this had been a continuing battle with the family’s insurance agent on a variety of issues regarding what was and was not covered under the family’s policy. As a result, his parents’ hospital bills had continued to mount, and the hospital’s collection agency was putting increasing pressure on the family despite their best efforts. As a result, although Billy had not mentioned it to anyone, he knew that, barring a miracle, his parents might well have to sell the ranch altogether, and even then, they might still be facing involuntary bankruptcy with-in a matter of months. “So whassup, amigo?” Juan inquired, as Billy rose and went over to retrieve a hard copy of the outline he had just completed. “Just working on my speech for this Friday,” Billy answered. “It’s a short history of Cinco de Mayo.” “Oh, kewl!” Juan gushed, his face lighting up even brighter. “That reminds me—my family and I will be having a HUGE Cinco de Mayo celebration at our place after school lets out on Friday. You’ll be there, won’t you? Rosie especially would love to see you!” Billy sighed sadly. Normally, he would not have hesitated to join in the festivities, especially since the Ramirez family had striven repeatedly to help the Mastersons in any way they could while Billy’s parents recovered from their injuries. Given their current financial situation, however, Billy simply did not feel as though he had any right or reason to celebrate much of anything these days. At that moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of classes for the day. Juan and Billy went to their lockers, put up their books, and retrieved their cowboy hats as they prepared to head home. Juan was quick to notice Billy’s depressed demeanor. His face showed his concern as the two youths headed for the parking lot, where they would get into Juan’s luxury pickup truck and ride home together. Then, suddenly, Billy sat down at one of the school’s picnic tables adjacent to the parking lot, laid his head on his arms, and simply broke down and wept, unable to hold back his frustration a minute longer. Juan, astonished and horrified at his friend’s emotional paroxysm, instantly sat down beside his best bud, putting a hugely-muscled arm around Billy’s slender shoulders. Wisely, he made no attempt to question his best friend for the moment, realizing that it would be better to let Billy ventilate his emotion first. Instead, he pulled Billy close and gently rubbed his back and shoulders, “It’s okay, Billy-bro’,” he murmured, referring to Billy by an old pet name, “it’s okay! Go ahead and cry, babe—don’t be ashamed of it! Let it out, Billy-bro’--let it all out!” The young Latino giant then kissed his best friend on the cheek. Billy responded by actually climbing into his best friend’s lap and continued to weep. Juan kissed him again, and tenderly rocked his best friend from side to side, unashamedly cuddling him, as he continued to gently rub Billy’s back. When at last it appeared that Billy was beginning to regain his composure, Juan gently inquired, “What is it, Billy? What’s wrong?” “It’s nothing you can do anything about, I'm afraid,” Billy replied in an almost croaking voice as he wiped his eyes. “How can you be sure of that if you don’t tell me?” Juan gently pleaded. “Please, mi amigo—we’ve been best friends for a dozen years now! You know my family and I will do anything we can to help you and your family out! If I can’t help you, then maybe someone else in my family can! So, come on, Billy-bro’--tell me all about it, please!” Reluctantly at first, Billy finally managed to choke out an explanation of his family’s plight. Juan’s mouth fell open, and his brown face actually went white with shock as he processed what his best bud was telling him. Then the young Latino’s expression turned stern and hard, his black eyes flashing with volcanic fury, and even more so when Billy concluded his tale of woe by telling of how the hospital collection agent had boasted that he was going to ruin Billy’s parents before it was all over. “We’ll just see about that!” Juan cried angrily. “Come on, Billy-bro—we’re gonna talk to my folks about this!” So saying, the two teens got into Juan’s pickup truck, and drove straight to his parents’ offices. The two elder Ramirezes were attorneys by profession, and were both well-respected in the community. They were just getting ready to leave the office and head home for the day when the two youths arrived. At Juan's urgent request, however, they promptly went back inside. They were both stunned to learn of their next-door neighbors’ financial difficulties. Alejandro Ramirez was a handsome, well-built man of 40, who seldom indulged in profanity. On hearing of the hospital collection agent’s arrogant boast that he intended to ruin the Mastersons, however, he angrily slammed his fist on his desk and erupted like the famous Paricutin volcano in some of the vilest language either of the boys had ever heard. “If that meshugginah cucaracha thinks he’s going to get away with that,” he concluded, “he’s plumb loco!” For her part, Maria Ramirez, a still-curvaceous woman of 35, had an expression on her face that was ominous in the extreme. While her language was by no means as profane as her husband’s, it was nevertheless quite deadly as she expressed her opinion of those who had so arrogantly threatened her family's neighbors and best friends. So much so, in fact, that Billy actually found himself shrinking back in terror. Seeing this, however, both Maria and Alejandro went to great lengths to comfort and reassure Billy. As the foursome headed out the office door together, Alejandro assured him that they would take up the family’s case immediately, and would do all they could to help correct the situation. At Juan’s suggestion, they all stopped off at the Mastersons’ ranch. Billy’s parents were understandably reluctant to accept the legal assistance the Ramirezes offered, but after tearful pleas from both Juan and Billy, they finally accepted. The two families thereupon discussed the Mastersons’ situation in more de-tail, providing the elder Ramirezes the information they needed to investigate whatever legal remedies might be available. To formally empower Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez to represent them, Mr. and Mrs. Masterson paid the Ramirezes a token retainer fee of $1.00. As the Ramirezes prepared to take their leave of their newest clients, Juan put his brawny hands firmly on his best bud’s slender shoulders. “Now, no excuses!” he told Billy firmly. “I want you over at our place for our Cinco de Mayo party after school lets out on Friday! Okay?” “Okay!” Billy replied, as the two youths exchanged a warm hug, kissing each other on the cheek as well. For the first time since his parents’ accident, Billy truly felt able to relax. He slept like a log that night, and awoke the next morning filled with more energy and optimism than he had felt in a long, long time. When Juan picked Billy up to go to school, Billy was astonished to see that his best friend was dressed in a full charro outfit, including a huge, lavishly-embroidered sombrero. “Aren’t you jumping the gun a little bit?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at Juan. “Not really,” his best bud replied with a wicked grin. “It’s the day before Cinco de Mayo, so a lot of my Latino compadres will be dressed up in anticipation. And by the way,” he added, his grin becoming even more wicked, “I brought along an extra charro out-fit for you to wear today—everything from hat to boots—and I will NOT take no for an answer! You savvy?” Billy had been friends with Juan far too long to even think of arguing with him. Holding up his hands in surrender, he said, “Okay, mi amigo, okay!” He chuckled and shook his head. Juan knew that secretly Billy had always admired the flash and extravagance of the charro or “gentleman cowboy” look. Now, with his best bud preparing to give a speech on the history of Cinco de Mayo, Juan was determined to have Billy looking the part—to the very uttermost! The two youths arrived at school early enough to be able to use one of the dressing rooms next to the school auditorium for Billy to try on his new outfit. He stared in awe at the suit, which was in a deep, rich, royal purple blend of wool and polyester, heavily embroidered in gold and silver thread, with gold and silver buttons, known as galas or botonaduras, down the outseams of the legs. A white shirt in heavy silk satin, a purple satin bow tie, also embroidered in gold and silver, a pair of black patent leather ankle boots with 2-inch heels, a 2-inch wide, custom-made, embroidered pita belt, and a huge, heavily-embroidered sombrero with an incredible 24-inch brim, completed the ensemble. At Juan’s insistence, Billy, who had learned to apply and wear makeup in his speech and drama classes, stripped down to his underwear, then applied just enough eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, and lipstick to achieve a smoky, sultry, yet regal effect, complete with touches of silver and gold to match the embroidery colors in the suit. Then, in accordance with the tradition that a real cowboy always dresses from the top down, he put on the sombrero, the shirt and bow tie, the pants and belt, the boots, and finally the vest and jacket. He then preened himself before the 3-way mirror that stood next to the dres-sing table. From the moment he began putting on his makeup, Billy began to experience a feeling of growing strength, power, confidence, and well-being such as he had never known before. By the time he had finished dressing, Billy actually felt as pumped up as though he had just completed a major workout. He was grinning from ear to ear as he turned around and looked himself over. The carefully-applied makeup had enhanced and improved his already handsome appearance to the point where some would have referred to him as “a glam-rock charro pretty boy.” Juan whistled in amazement as he beheld his best friend's transformed appearance. “Ai carramba!” he exclaimed in admiration. “Dude, you look like a super-charro—like Mexican royalty!” “I feel like it in this outfit!” Billy replied with a deep, rich, throaty laugh filled with excitement and exultation. He then actually did a most muscular pose. As if in direct response, his body seemed to fill out the suit, as it al-so radiated strength, power and confidence. Before either youth could comment any further, however, the bell rang to signal the start of classes for the day. Billy then transferred his other clothes to a small laundry bag, which he then put in his locker after getting out his schoolbooks. His face was radiant with exuberance as he and Juan went to their first-period homeroom. From the moment they stepped out into the hallway from the dressing room, Billy and Juan were both showered with compliments and appreciative wolf whistles. Even the school’s most hard-core cowboys and rednecks complimented the two youths on their outfits and appearance. As they moved from one class to another, both boys were repeatedly kissed by their female classmates in the hallways. Not sur-prisingly, Billy and Juan were both on the verge of an orgasm by the time they got to their P.E. class. In addition, Billy’s muscles seemed to be filling out and expanding constantly throughout the day. When the two young charros finally changed into their gym clothes, they and their classmates were all stunned. Both boys’ physiques had in fact grown significantly larger, but Billy’s muscles appeared to have literally doubled in size. Despite this, both their charro suits and their gym clothes accommodated their expanding musculature with ease. The two youths shook their heads in amazement as they headed for the weight room. As he moved from one station in the weight room to another, Billy felt as though every muscle in his body was being pumped and stretched virtually to the bursting point. Even his gonads felt as though they were steadily growing bigger, more powerful, more potent, and more virile. Billy’s hair was grow-ing as well—longer, thicker, richer, fuller, softer, and shinier. In fact, by the time Billy finished his workout, his chocolate brown tresses had actually morphed into a huge mass of the biggest, brawniest-looking curls he had ever set his eyes on—and he loved it! Juan was agog at his best bud’s progress as he went through his own workout. By the time both boys had finished their workouts, Juan was pumped up bigger than he had ever been before, while Billy’s muscles had grown beyond their previous size by a full 25%! Furthermore, Juan’s own straight, jet-black hair had also grown considerably longer. In fact, from being at the top of his collar at the start of the day, it was now fully down to the bottom of his massive young shoulders, which had increased in size and width beyond anything even he had ever dreamed of—and when he flexed his biceps, their peaks actually came up to the tops of his earlobes! As might be expected, Billy, Juan, and all of their classmates—especially the ones from the rodeo team—were going wild with delight as the two young charros headed for the showers. Even as they washed themselves, Billy and Juan simply could not keep from flexing and pumping in front of each other, let-ting out screams of delight, as every pose seemed to make them both grow bigger—and BIGGER—AND B-I-G-G-E-R! In fact, by the time the two youths managed to dry themselves off, Billy was actually as big and massive and full of power as Juan himself! Billy was actually hesitant as he prepared to open up his locker and change back into his charro suit. “As—as big as I am now,” he told Juan, “I’m actually wondering if my outfit will even come close to fitting me!” Juan chuckled and answered, “Same here, Billy-bro’! The way this day’s been going, though, I’ll bet you that our charro suits will not only fit us, but they’ll both be richer and flashier and more glam-rocking gorgeous than they were before!” Juan’s prediction turned out to be squarely on target. As the two young giants changed back into their charro suits, they found that the suits fit them with ease, flattering their newly enlarged physiques to the uttermost, yet with room for further growth. Furthermore, both suits were significantly more lavish and extravagant than before, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight with reflections from numerous sequins in every color of the rainbow. The other students went wild over the appearance of the two teen super-charros, who received even more kisses from the girls than before—and were more than happy to return them! Once again, Billy went to the library for study hall, where he completed work on his presentation for the next day. Then, with permission from the study hall teacher, the two youths went to the school’s music library, which was located between the choir and band classrooms. Billy spent several minutes searching in the file cabinets containing band and orchestral music, until at last, with a cry of “Eure-ka!”, he pulled out a conductor’s score for a work entitled, “Night in Mexico,” by an American com-poser named Paul Creston. Billy then had a quick discussion with the school’s band and orchestra teacher, who gladly allowed him to borrow the score. As they headed for the school’s executive offices, Juan inquired, “So what have you got in mind, Maestro?” Billy then reminded his best friend that their school was one of the few public schools in California that was equipped with a concert organ. Like his father, Billy was a trained organist. “I’m going to see if our speech teacher will allow me to do my presentation on Cinco de May-o in the auditorium, and wind it up by playing this piece on the organ,” he concluded. “Oh, kewl!” the young Latino gushed. The speech teacher, however, referred the two youths to their school's Executive Principal, as required by their local School Board. The Executive Principal was more than happy to grant permission for Billy to perform on the organ for the occasion. Although it had not been used in more than a year, it was still in good condition, and had just been cleaned and tuned in preparation for the school’s graduation exercises, which were just over a month away. “In fact,” the Principal suggested, “since we’re going to hold a school assembly about Cinco de Mayo tomorrow, why not check with your speech teacher about incorporating your presentation into the program? A performance of a piece like ‘Night in Mexico’ would be a perfect way to wind up the assembly!” Billy and Juan’s speech teacher was more than happy to agree to Billy’s proposal. As the two youths headed for the school auditorium, the final bell sounded, signaling the end of classes for the day. This was a welcome development, since it would allow Billy to practice the piece without being disturbed, and would allow his performance the following day to be a complete surprise to the other students—hopefully, a welcome one! Billy’s teenaged heart was pounding with excitement as the big organ console was brought out from under the stage and moved into playing position. For his part, Juan was only too happy to act as Billy’s console assistant, turning pages for him and helping his best friend to set the organ’s controls for the upcoming performance. Even as they did so, both boys’ muscles were swelling with even greater power and strength, while their hair and their costumes became even more beautiful, more lavish, and more glamorous. It was after 5:00 that afternoon when, having completed their preparations, the two teen charros re-turned the organ console to its storage bay under the stage, retrieved Billy’s street clothes, and headed home. As they drove, Juan, who had been waiting for just such an opportunity, spoke up. “First of all, Babe, in case you haven’t already guessed, that outfit is yours to keep—in fact, I had it custom-made just for you as a graduation present.” He paused for a minute, then continued, “When it was first delivered to me, I asked our family priest to ask a special blessing on it, especially after all you and your family have been through these past few months.” He took a deep breath, swelling his already huge chest still further, then concluded with a grin, “I think you’ll agree that my family’s prayers have been answered—and with compound interest!” “I’ll say they have!” Billy gushed, as they turned into the Mastersons’ driveway. As Juan brought his pickup truck to a stop in front of the ranch house, the two youths were surprised to see the car belong-ing to Juan’s parents was once more parked in front as well. “Could they have gotten some results al-ready?” Billy wondered aloud, as they exited the truck. “My parents never waste time, dude—and all the more so in a case like this!” Juan replied, a wicked grin lighting up his now super-handsome face. Before going in, however, Billy threw his now-gigantic arms around his best friend and literally covered his face with kisses. Then, his brown eyes looking deep into Juan’s black ones, Billy simply said, “I love you, Juan!” His own eyes aglow, Juan replied, “I love you, too, Billy! Please don’t ever doubt that!” “Never, Babe,” Billy gushed, as the two young giants cuddled each other, “never, EVER!” It was several moments before the two of them regained their composure and went inside, where they found their parents deep in conversation. The elder Mastersons and Ramirezes were all astounded at the incredible enhancements in their sons' appearance—Billy’s especially! The four parents shook their heads in wonder as the two youths explained the day's events. They were greatly excited at the news of Billy’s impending performance the next day. “Now let us give you some news!” Alejandro Ramirez said. He jubilantly reported that the problems with the Mastersons’ insurance company had been completely resolved, and so had the problems with the hospital’s collection agency. An investigation of the agents involved had revealed that the two of them were in cahoots, and had forged or altered many of the documents involved in the case, in a plot to steal the Mastersons’ property. The motive for their actions lay in the fact that the hospital collections agent was a former suitor of Billy’s mother, and had long wanted revenge on her for rejecting him in favor of Billy’s father. His brother-in-law was the insurance adjuster who had been assigned the Masterson file by the insurance company, and had immediately joined in the plot to ruin the family. On discovering these facts, the Ramirezes had promptly notified both the hospital and the insurance company, as well as the local District Attorney. The two conspirators had promptly been arrested, and were now being held without bond on a variety of state and Federal charges, including forgery, embezzlement, and misappropriation of contract payments. The Mastersons’ accounts with both the hospital and the insurance company were now being audited, but both the hospital and the insurance company officials had given assurances that all of the disputed expenses would be taken care of, and that no fur-ther collection efforts would be made. In addition, the Ramirezes had filed suit against the collection agency for its unethical business practices. In turn, the agency’s contract with the hospital had been summarily terminated; the agency was itself now under investigation, and would most likely be perma-nently shut down as a result. “It will take a little while,” Maria smilingly concluded, “but in all probability, you folks will come out of all of this in better financial shape than you have ever been!” “And in addition,” Alejandro put in, “we’ve also found out that the people who bought your horses were in cahoots with these two jokers. They’ve also been arrested, and their purchases have been declared null and void by the courts. Your horses should be returned to you in the next few days!” “Will we have to return the money they paid us?” Billy asked. Alejandro shook his head. “As I said, the purchases were declared null and void by the courts. The judge presiding over the case specifically stated that you folks were under no obligation to pay back a single penny, because the purchases were part of a criminal conspiracy. So you folks are out from under your debts completely!” Billy and Juan whooped with joy and hugged each other hard. Now Billy would have all the more reason to celebrate Cinco de Mayo with his Mexican friends the next day. With that, the Ramirezes took their leave for the evening. As he was getting ready to go out the front door, however, Juan whispered in his best bud’s ear, “You be sure and wear that charro suit again tomorrow—you got that?” “Got it!” Billy whispered back with a radiant grin, as the two young giants kissed each other on the cheek before parting for the night. The Fifth of May dawned brighter and clearer than any previous Cinco de Mayo Billy could remember. After showering, shaving, and putting on his makeup, Billy stood in front of the three-way mirror in his bedroom and went into a series of muscle poses. Sure enough, Billy realized, he was even bigger and brawnier than he had been the night before. His hair was also bigger—in fact, it just barely fit inside his sombrero as he began to dress! When he had finally completed donning his outfit, the young charro preened himself in front of the mirror for a few moments. Sure enough, just as it had the day before, his charro suit had somehow grown to accommodate his still-growing physique, and was even more lavish than it had been the night before. In place of the sequins, the entire suit was now festooned with crystals in every color of the rainbow, sending out a shower of multi-colored sparks in the bright morning sunlight. The coat and pants were now lined with rich, heavy gold satin, while the shirt had transformed into the richest white satin brocade he had ever seen. Juan had been right, he decided—the suit really did make him look like charro royalty. Billy had just barely finished eating a huge breakfast when he heard a car horn tooting outside. Hastily kissing his parents goodbye, he ran to the front door—only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of the most extravagant mega-stretch limousine he had ever seen anywhere! Juan was laughing hysterically as his best bud slowly made his way out the door and over to the limo. “This is a Cinco de Mayo present!” he explained, kissing his best bud on the cheek for good measure. Needless to say, Billy promptly kissed Juan on the cheek and gave him a huge hug. They then boarded the limo for the 30-minute drive to school. The school day that followed was a triumph for both boys in every respect. As in Billy’s case, Juan was noticeably bigger and brawnier than he had been the night before, and his charro suit was even larger, richer, and more extravagant. It was no wonder, then, that the two teen super-charros were both mobbed like rock stars when they entered the building, and at every change of classes as well. Nor was it any wonder that both boys received and returned so many kisses that they were in a testosterone haze throughout the entire school day! Finally—you guessed it—both Juan and Billy, as well as their outfits, continued to grow larger, richer, and more extravagantly glamorous all the day long. Because of the special presentation he was scheduled to give, Billy (and Juan, at Billy’s request) were both excused from both speech and P.E. classes that day. Instead, with the assistance of the school's music teachers, the two boys brought the organ console up from its storage area and onto the stage. They were relieved to find that the controls they had set so carefully the previous day had not been disturbed. This gave Billy the opportunity to set the organ up for one additional composition—the “Variations on America” by American composer Charles Ives. Billy explained to Juan that Ives had been only 16 when he had first performed the piece on July 4, 1891, and its humorous character was therefore amply suited to a high school audience, who might otherwise become bored during the assembly. Juan had heard a recording of the piece before, and he grinned wickedly as he remembered its hilarious sounds. He could see what his best bud had in mind, and he therefore looked forward all the more eagerly to the upcoming assembly. The assembly was everything either Billy or Juan could have wished for. After some opening remarks by the Executive Principal, Billy gave his history of Cinco de Mayo, and explained why it is in fact significant to the history of the United States as well as Mexico. In addition, he successfully answered several questions from members of the audience. The school's history teacher then rounded out the speaking part of the presentation, warmly commending Billy for his efforts as he did so. The students warmly applauded in appreciation. At this point, the Executive Principal returned to the podium. The audience was both surprised and intrigued to hear of the impending musical portion of the program. They warmly applauded Billy as he now took command of the program. As he seated himself at the big four-manual-and-pedal console, the young super-charro pointed out that Cinco de Mayo was and is a celebration of freedom and liberty for both Mexico and the United States. Such being the case, Billy explained, it was only fitting and proper to include an appropriate musical selection from each country to round out the assembly. The audience enthusiastically murmured its agreement. His first selection was the Ives “Variations on America.” When Billy pointed out that Ives had been only 16 when he first performed and then wrote down the piece, there was scattered but enthusiastic applause. As his performance of the piece got under the way, the audience chuckled at the appropriate moments. Their chuckles progressed to outright laughter and guffaws as the piece progressed, and all the more so as Billy concluded the work by including a loud, raucous “AH-OO-OO-OO-OO-GAH” from the organ’s built-in Klaxon horn, then played the final chords on maximum full organ. Most of the students had never heard the school’s organ before, and they were clearly enchanted with its wide variety of sounds and musical effects. They jumped to their feet and roared their appreciation of the first selection. As he stood and bowed in response, a wicked twinkle came into Billy’s dark brown eyes. He then held up his hands for silence. Then, looking his best bud directly in the eye, he said, “That number should be retitled, ‘Juan Ramirez Rides Again!'” Juan instantly doubled over as the audience joined him in a bellow of hysterical laughter, followed by a roar of applause. The excitement in the room now rose to fever pitch as Billy announced his second and final selection, Paul Creston’s “Night in Mexico.” He briefly explained the unusual history behind the piece, then resumed his seat at the console and began to play. Numerous heads in the audience nodded in direct response to the music’s infectious rhythm as the piece proceeded. When Billy performed the fiery arpeggio that concluded the work on maximum full organ, the audience went simply wild with delight. They rightly gave Billy a standing ovation as he bowed before them. With that, the Executive Principal dismissed the assembly. As he did so, the final bell sounded to signal the end of the school day. Billy and Juan were both riding the proverbial Cloud Nine as they made their way through the crowd of students and headed for the side exit, where their limousine was waiting for them. Again, any number of their fellow students showered them with compliments and congratulations. Billy especially gave and received so many kisses (although Juan got his fair share as well!) that by the time the two young giants got into the limo he was again on the verge of an orgasm! Somehow, he successfully managed to channel the extra sexual energy into his outfit and his muscles. Juan did likewise, as they both grew to a height of well over seven feet. Their pectoral muscles came up to within a few inches of their chins, while their trapezius muscles swelled up to the tops of their ears! Even the muscles in their faces grew noticeably larger and more powerful, yet in a way that caused them both to become even more glamor-ous and gorgeous! Their already over-the-top, “super-charro” suits became even more so, as the multi-colored crystals became actual diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and other precious and semi-precious stones in every color of the rainbow! As if that weren’t enough, the fabric of the two suits transformed from its original wool-polyester blend into cloth-of-gold, while that of the shirts changed from an already lavish silk satin brocade into cloth-of-silver! Even their sombreros got into the act, as they grew from 24-inch to 36-inch brims to match the new size of their owners, and, like the suits, were covered with precious and semi-precious stones! The Cinco de Mayo party was already in full swing by the time the two now “mega-charros” pulled up to the Ramirezes’ front door. Billy was overjoyed to see Rosita, who had come home from her private school specifically for the occasion. Both he and Juan were pleasantly shocked to see that Rosita, a long-time “femuscle” girl, was now every bit as huge as they were! The kiss that Billy exchanged with his long-time love was overwhelming for both of them. It was at that moment that Billy made up his mind to ask Rosita to marry him, knowing full well that she would instantly say “yes.” Only a few feet away, Juan was exchanging a similar kiss with Ruby, who had also grown into a “mega-femuscle” girl. The party itself was everything that either Juan or Billy could have wished for, with food and drink and dancing lasting far into the night. When at last the party began to wind down, but before they parted for the night, Billy, Juan, Rosita and Ruby got down on their knees together, then joined hands and gave thanks for the miracles they had recently experienced. Recognizing the responsibility that came with such blessings, they prayed for God’s continuing help and guidance as they prepared to enter the adult world and spend the rest of their lives together.
  2. Something new for all you gorgeous people to read! This one's shaping up to be pretty schmoopy, fyi. It was spawned by a couple of really different songs getting thrown together while doing Cardio. I'm linking them and a visual aid for anyone who likes to see the inspiration side of things before they start reading. Also, another thank you is owed to Dredlifter for helping me iron out some numbers. First Song - Falling Slowly https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQvwXbvs5GY Second Song - Confident https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwLRQn61oUY And the T-Shirt https://www.teeturtle.com/products/gym-unicorn?variant=1540111073289 Enjoy. FORTUNE FAVOURS... Cas watched TJ warily in the gym mirror. The asshole behemoth had been eyeing him and Karen since they arrived. He had his usual band of cronies working out with him but today there was a new face added to the mix. TJ kept leaning down, way down to speak in his ear like he was giving some sort of direction. New Guy finally looked over and made eye contact in the mirror. Cas shivered and immediately dropped his gaze to the floor – the guy was fucking perfect! He snuck a look back up in the mirror to see New Guy nodding slowly to TJ before he started to swagger across the gym. “Incoming, Karen....” She pushed her blue-black hair out of her eyes and glanced over her shoulder before pushing out a final rep on the leg press. “Well fuck. How did he even figure out what time we'd be here?” Normally TJ followed a pretty strict schedule. With a little unofficial help from the staff, Cas and Karen had been able to schedule their own workouts for times when he wouldn't be there at all. Today TJ had thrown them for a loop – they came in well after he would have normally departed but he was still here with his counsel of sycophants scurrying about his massive frame. Cas watched the twink's approach. Well, that probably wasn't fair – New Guy was pretty damn built, more like a twunk, maybe. Ash blonde hair was playfully mussed at the front, a tuft of it standing straight up. Grey eyes stared out below fuller brows that arched up to prevent him from having a permanent cro-magnan scowl. He was a little scruffy but Cas could still see the square definition of his jawline before it tapered to the chin. He had a slightly upturned nose that lent his symmetrical face the slightest hint of a feline quality. He was achingly handsome and Cas felt a tingle of desire twinge through his body. It was like TJ had gone out of his way to find someone who would be as attractive to Cas's tastes as possible. New Guy was almost to them. "Fuck, he's seriously built...." Definitely thicker than a twunk. It was his height that made him seem smaller than he was. Cas estimated himself to have about a six-inch advantage. Karen was on her feet now, also appraising his approach. “Shit, Cas. This one's very easy on the eyes. And damn he fills out that racer tank in the best way. If he hasn't absorbed too much of TJ's douchebagliness, maybe he can be saved? How much do you want to bet that he mentions your shirt?” Karen looked over at Cas and grinned mischievously. The sight was decidedly unnerving. There was something about a woman who looked like she could bench press Buick smiling wickedly that could rattle anyone. “But you told me you love this shirt?” Cas started defensively. “That shirt is fucking amazing. Doesn't mean he isn't going to mention it. Five bucks?” “It's a lousy bet and we both know it. How 'bout we just give you the win and I'll bring you cookies next time I make some?” "Done. Let me know if you need me?" And with that, she moved off to more leg work nearby, earphones off and listening. “I'm sure I'll be fi-” “Hey.” Damn, Cas had turned to keep talking to Karen and lost track of how close New Guy was. Of course his voice would be misleadingly deep for his size. It was a low, rich tenor, just a smidgen above a bass. Cas felt his balls draw up tight in response to the vibration. His bottom lip hinged open and he stared slack-jawed at the person before him. Karen was not wrong – his chest and back completely stretched out his tank top. Well developed delts and traps topped off the look with the barest tease of his serrati disappearing into the shirt down each side. The dense spread of blond hair across his pecs was trimmed but not shaved. Same thing under the arms, but, as Cas's gaze involuntarily lowered, not the legs. Interesting.... “Uh, Hello?” New guy tried his greeting again, this time paired with a confident smirk in response to Cas's less-than-subtle ogling. “Sorry, sorry – Hi?” Cas couldn't stop himself from blushing scarlet. “I just came over here to say that I, um, really like your shirt...?” Karen snorted in the background. “That sounded like a question. You sure that's why you're over here?” Cas gave a pointed stare at TJ across the gym. New Guy turned his head to follow the look. TJ just stood there, watching patiently with a malicious stare – his blue eyes chips of ice from across the room. Cas shivered at the hate in the look. New Guy noticed the shiver as he turned back. “Just... just ignore him.” “It's... complicated.” “I'm sure it is. Any more complicated than why you decided to wear a shirt that has a buff, dead-lifting unicorn with a rainbow, mohawk mane to a gym in a small, conservative city?” New Guy took another step closer so they were barely 6 inches apart. “There is nothing wrong with my shirt. It's a dead-lifting unicorn, where the hell else am I supposed to wear it?” Cas hissed out through his teeth and tiptoed closer trying to intimidate New Guy. New Guy didn't rise to the bait. He just widened his stance, rolled his broad shoulders back distractingly and kept eye-contact with Cas. “I didn't say there was. It's ballsy. I like it.” “Oh... um...” Cas deflated immediately and shuffled backward. This was...unexpected. “Hey, you don't have to- Fuck this posturing bullshit. I'm Blake.” New guy held out his hand at what he hoped was a non-offensive distance. Cas reached out and shook it, grateful for the offer. “Cas.” For a shorter guy, Blake's hand dwarfed his in thickness. Sure, Cas's hand was a bit longer, but the strength in the breadth of Blake's palm could easily crush his if he wanted. Blake eyed the guy shaking his hand quickly. He had looked so confident laughing and joking with that woman from across the gym. He was taller than he looked – lean and athletic upper torso tapering to a lean waist. Blake could see the obvious curve of his ass through the pants but couldn't tell much else about his legs. High cheekbones highlighted his oval-shaped face capped with playfully tousled toffee-brown hair. His eyes were a vibrant green set evenly beneath what had to be shaped brows. A narrow, refined nose split the face evenly with full lips below that would be perfect for giving... a lot. Blake turned away to surreptitiously adjust himself a bit as he halted his thoughts before he got fully hard in his workout shorts. “Just Cas? Or is it short for something else?” “You sure ask a lot of questions, Blake?” “How else am I supposed to get to know you?” Why was this guy so defensive? “What did TJ send you over here to do?” “Well...um....” Blake knew this was a bad idea. Why did he agree to this? Cas saw the look of confusion flit across Blake's face. “Caspian. Cas is short for Caspian.” The revelation emboldened Blake. “He wanted me to challenge you to some sort of lift competition? I just kinda smiled and nodded and hoped I'd be able to work out what he really wanted once I got over here and started talking to you. He gave me this free workout drink to do it. I'm supposed to get the other part to after I, um, blow you away and win. He's kind of a creepy asshole, actually. He kept going on about how he was finally going to be the one to teach you something? I figured I didn't have a lot to lose – I don't really know anyone at this gym yet. It's a great ice-breaker, in here anyway, showing off a bit without being an ass and maybe find a work out partner. Besides, it's not like you'd be able to lift as heavy as I can, right?” Blake finished with what he hoped was a cocky yet endearing grin. “I'm sorry, what was that last part?” Cas had a plan forming in his mind. “TJ kinda led me to believe you'd be, well, smaller than me.” Cas quirked an eyebrow at that. “And even though you're not exactly small, there's no way you could ever lift as much as these guns!” Blake brought his arms up and flexed, hard balls of muscle popping up and filling the space above his arms. They were impressive on his frame – probably 15 inches cold. “Did he say what you were supposed to win?” “Something about you wearing the little blue devil and proving it to me and to him at the gym. Does that make any sense to you?” “He told you to ask for that?! Are you sure?” “Pretty sure. He made me repeat it before I got this drink.” Blake started to lift it up to his mouth to take a swig but Cas reached out and touched his elbow lightly, leaning in to whisper. “Don't drink it, Blake. Keep raising it to your mouth and pretend to drink but whatever you do, don't actually put it in you. And don't let TJ know that you aren't slugging it back. TJ has a number of...questionable hobbies. One of them is amateur...biochemistry, you might say.” Cas stepped back and looked around for Karen. They were probably going to need help for what he had in mind. "I'm sorry? Are you saying that this is some kind of...experiment for him?" Blake stared at the unnaturally scarlet liquid in his shaker cup. “Do you really know TJ outside of the gym, Blake?” “Uh, no. And I only joined like a week-and-a-half ago. I was using the gym on the college campus before I started my practical placement. What's the deal with you two? You looked really on edge earlier when you first looked over at him and now you're acting weird again....” “I just need to find my friend, the woman I was with before. I'll be right back, okay?” “Uh yeah? I'll just wait here?” “Perfect.” Cas practically bolted toward the cardio machines. After legs, Karen usually cooled down on a treadmill. He found her on her favourite one and led her back to Blake, her eyes bright with anticipation. “Hey Kid, hear you're going to challenge Caspian to some lifts?” Karen smirked as she drawled out Cas's full name. “Um, that's right, Ma'am?” Karen raised an eyebrow at getting Ma'am-ed. “Er, Miss? Do you... prefer Ms. maybe?” Karen burst out laughing as Blake floundered. “What's the matter, Kid? Haven't you ever seen a woman who lifts?” “Er, nooo...” Blake raised his shaker cup and almost forgot to only pretend to take a drink. “It's Karen, Kid. And don't really drink that shit – it's toxic as hell if it's from TJ.” She took a swig of water. "So here's the deal, Karen," Cas started. "TJ asked Blake here to challenge me, defeat me handily, and as his prize, I was to wear the little blue devil to the gym in order to prove it to Blake and TJ." Karen choked on her water. “He wants that?! Oh Kid, what the hell did you do to piss TJ off?” “My. Name. Isn't. Kid.... It's Blake. And what the hell is this blue devil thing? Why is it so important?” Cas leaned in conspiratorially and brought up a picture on his phone. Blake sputtered and his ears flushed bright pink. “He wants me to make you wear an ass plug?! Wait, does that thing actually fit in your ass?” Several people looked over at the trio strangely. “Say it a bit louder, Blake,” Caspian whispered. “I think there's a deaf woman in the tanning room who didn't hear you.” He stepped back and looked over Karen and Blake before continuing. “So, if you win, that's what you're going to get from me. I can guarantee TJ will bring his posse in on it and you probably won't be getting out of here without having your own forced blue devil experience.” “TJ is so sick. Sick and wrong. Why can't I just go over there and call him out? You know the management has just been looking for a reason....” Karen was livid. “Guys, I just met you. This is a little...heavy. Is he really going to get away with this?” Blake was looking green. “Hell no. You're not going to win.” “What!?” “You're not going to win....” “How the fuck are you going to do that!? I mean, you're in great shape and all, but I'm pretty sure the advantage is mine.” Blake puffed up. He wanted to help Cas out but he didn't want to be shown up in public by someone so...slim.... “Kid – shit, sorry - Blake, you don't know what you're in for.” Karen caught on to where Cas was going with his plan after hearing Blake's self-aggrandizing. “Did TJ tell you what he wanted you to beat me at?” Cas grinned widely down at Blake. “He...no, he didn't....” “That just convinces me he wanted to get back at you for something. Here's the wager, if you win, TJ ravages our asses against our will. If I win, you have to attend a HIIT class with me tomorrow morning and let me take you to brunch. Deal?” “I'm sorry, are you saying that if I win we throw ourselves at TJ's mercy but if you win, I'm the one who gets free food?” “And you have to attend the class.” “Pffft, it's a fitness class. I'll be fine.” “Do we have a deal?” “Fine, whatever. We have a deal.” “Karen. You get to be our neutral witness. Not even TJ will argue with you.” “Oh Blake, you're in for a ride today.... You doing what I think you're doing, Cas?” “Yup. Blake, you're challenging me to standing calf raises. Working set of 8.” “What?!” “You look like you don't skip leg day so it shouldn't be a complete blow out for you.” “Calf raises?” Blake was still stupefied as Cas led him over to the machine. “C'mon Blake. You should warm up.” Cas started to adjust the pads for Blake's height and then stopped himself. That was going to involve way more physical contact than someone like Blake would probably want from him. “You should, um adjust the machine for yourself....” “Are we seriously doing standing calf-raises?! Who the fuck tests themselves with calf-raises?” A couple of machines over, one of TJ's lackeys overheard the comment and started snickering. Blake blushed deeply, a tight coil of anger gathered in the pit of his stomach. “Fuck them, let's do this. I hope you know what you're doing, Caspian.” He lowered the shoulder pads and popped the pin down to 250 lbs and blew through 8 quick reps. "Nice, Blake! Did you even feel that? And starting at 250 will help make sure TJ gets the drawn-out show he thought he wanted. Just let me get the pads up." Cas slid into the machine and smoothly cranked out a warm-up set. Blake watched him lower the pin to 300. That wasn't too much below what Blake used as a working set. "All ready for you. Pin should be set too." Blake stepped in and started to push up, but something felt off. The shoulder pads weren't sitting where they should. They were too high. He shot Cas a glare, who stood there making the least convincing innocent face in the history of pranks. “Nice, Caspian. 'Cause that hasn't been done to me since high school. How tall are you anyway – you've got to be at least 6 feet if you need to raise it that much more than my 5 feet, 6.5 inches." Blake lowered the pads a bit more. Cas looked from him to Karen, who looked back at Blake and slowly shook her head. “Blake, who told you that you're – aw Fuck - it was TJ wasn't it?” Cas was fuming – this was a new low. “Uh, yeah. Said his drink could make me at least an inch taller in a week, just like it bumped him up to 6 feet, 5 inches....” “I'm not 6 feet tall. I might squeak by at 5 feet, 11 inches. Karen's 5 feet, 4 inches and you don't have almost three inches on her....” Blake looked over at Karen. His eyes were above hers by about an inch, but if she was only 5' 4”.... He tried to stop the tears of anger from welling up in his eyes. Simultaneously, both Cas and Karen reached out to touch his shoulders but he shrugged them off and stepped into the machine. “I'm going to fucking kill him. He is such an asshole!” Karen started to march off but Cas grabbed her shoulder. “Just wait. He'll get his without you having to go murder anyone. Blake, you good?” "Yup. Apparently, I'm still... 5 feet fucking 5 inches and...just fucking... fine...." He started slowly lifting himself up and down. “Hey, tell me about your favourite breakfast food? Pancakes? No – it has to be waffles. You totally look like you're into waffles.” Cas approached the machine taking care not to make physical contact with Blake. Blake finished his set without answering and just stared at the machine. “I bet someone as built as you are - like a stacked tank - can pack away tonnes of food, right?” When in doubt, appeal to the straight man's sense of masculinity. It managed to get a small smile out of Blake, but was he straight? “You have no idea, Cas. I'm going to cost you so much money with breakfast tomorrow. I'm going to eat so much – you're going to help me get even more massive.” Blake's small smile widened as he described the vast quantities of food he would consume. “You're up.” “You okay if I up the ante to speed this along? I think it may have been a bad idea to try and give TJ a show.” “Absolutely. He deserves nothing from us. I'm a little lost about why you decided to go along with this whole thing that he set up anyway. You clearly don't like him and I've put together that he probably doesn't like you so much either. Which is weird, because every time I met up with him, he was always talking about you.” “It's complicated.” “Yeah, you said that earlier....” Blake trailed off mid-sentence, obviously trying to cue Cas to jump in at any time. "Have you ever had someone do things to you over and over and over that you couldn't stop because they were just too strong, too big, too powerful, too whatever for you to deal with? And eventually, you resign yourself to just go along with certain things to avoid making it worse on yourself? To avoid the struggle, because the struggle always ends up with you losing and making things worse for yourself?” “I can't say that I've ever really experienced it....” Blake started to look distinctly uncomfortable with where Cas might be going. “But you can follow the train of thought?” “A bit, I guess. Kinda sounds a little... rough, actually.” “Yeah...you could say that....I-” Cas stopped himself and sighed. This wasn't the time or place; he could not have this conversation here. “...Cas...?” Karen's hand reached out and made the faintest contact with his elbow. Blake watched them look at each other silently. Without exchanging a single word, he saw the tension bleed out of Caspian with that single, gossamer touch from his friend. Hearing Cas speak, seeing him fight to get the words out.... Blake wasn't stupid. He knew where the train of thought led. It woke something inside him, not quite a righteous anger, but a desire to make things different, to show Cas that he was stronger than he gave himself credit for. “Let's just say it's like that, okay? I don't want to give TJ any reason to do anything and so I'm going along with this little charade of his. Besides, if I hadn't, you and I might not have really met, right?” Cas tried to lighten the mood. This was way too serious. “Well if you put it that way, I am pretty amazing....” Blake couldn't resist bringing his arms up behind his head and flexing them while he flared out his shoulders and upper back. The look of raw, naked awe and desire Cas gave him fuelled whatever was awakening within him. He wanted so much more of that look. He wanted so much more than five paltry minutes of feigned intimacy with this person. Caspian discerned a change in Blake's expression, a glint of something he couldn't identify. Shaking off his own emotions he broke the gaze and looked back at the machine. "Brilliant then. Let's finish this." Cas lowered the pin to 350 and adjusted the pads, taking special care to actually mark what height Blake needed. He cranked out the set without breaking a sweat. Blake gaped at how easy Cas did the warm-up set. “You're still warming up at 350?” It was Cas's turn to blush a bit as he lowered the pads. “....yeah.... Um, maybe you should just go for your max...?” Blake gulped and stepped into the machine. He liked leg day... mostly. He didn't skip it at least. How could this ...twig, well relative to him anyway, outperform him on any lift? He dropped the pin to 400 and took a deep breath. It was one plate more than he had worked with last week – he could do this! He made it to three before he started to struggle. Four and five burned but were workable. Six... six was rough. Seven...he felt the weight move up the slightest bit before he had to lower it. “Nice job, Ki-Blake. I'll give you your seven.” Karen clapped him on the back. She was being generous and he knew it. “Fuck. TJ's starting to make his way over. I'll try to make this quick, but it might get ugly, Blake.” Cas raised the pads and did four quick lifts and then stopped and lowered the pin to 500 even. Blake's jaw fell open as he watched Cas work through his complete set. At least this time it looked like he had to work for it a little. “Can he actually max the machine?” Blake's gaze didn't leave Cas's curvaceous ass methodically rising up and down in steady, controlled motion. “Probably.” Karen crossed her arms and widened her stance in preparation for TJ's arrival with his henchmen. “He's stopping at 500 so I can save some face, isn't he?” “Yuuup. Cas is usually a pretty good kid.” “Finally, he gets Kidded.” Karen snorted. “Kid, everyone's 'kid' to me. Except TJ and his crew – they're just assholes.” “Is he... How...old-” Blake leaned in close to ask but Karen saved him from having to say it. “25. But you didn't hear it from me.” She spoke low enough for only Blake to hear before calling out as Cas finished his set, “And that's a set of 8 at 500 for Caspian. You want to try it, Blake?” “Hell no. I, uh, have to survive a HIIT class tomorrow now and find something clean to wear for breakfast....” Cas stepped out of the machine just as TJ finished his lumbering approach. Blake watched Cas's body tense. He raised himself up onto the balls of his feet as if he were expecting to run or kick. He clenched his hands tight but not into fists. Blake could see Cas's fingernails digging into his palms. Was he seriously going to make himself bleed? Could he be that angry? And then Cas shot a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Blake and Karen were with him. His eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated in preparation of a flight response. Despite his anxiety, he still managed to turn back to the object of his terror and stand his ground as TJ sneered down at him. Blake cursed under his breath and started toward Caspian. Karen quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him from rushing in before Cas had a chance to stand up for himself. “Queer.” The voice sounded reedy, petulant. A sharp contrast to the hulking exterior. Dark hair and a solid brow line scowled over emotionless blue eyes. A grim slash of a mouth barely opened when he talked. He could someday, possibly even be handsome if he bothered taking care of himself or took the time to smile occasionally. “TJ.” Cas returned icily. “Anything I can help you with?” “Just coming over to see how your little competition went. Calf-raises huh? Can't say I'm really surprised that someone as pitiful as you would pick something like that, Cassie.” He rested a hand on the machine and leaned down into Cas, trying his best to force him into giving ground. Blake was having none of it. He broke from Karen and deftly interposed himself between Cas and TJ's looming form. Sure, Cas was tall enough that TJ still had a clear shot at his face, but if he tried it, he'd have to leave his abdomen open to whatever Blake wanted to dish out. Blake shoved his shaker cup up at TJ's chest. Hard. The unexpected movement caught TJ off guard and he stumbled back a step. Blake felt Cas slowly let out the breath he had been holding. “It went pretty well, all things considered, big fella.” Blake kept his voice steady, neutral. “I did get my ass handed to me though, so there won't be any blue devil in your immediate future. I guess you'll have to have one of your 'friends' help you out with that instead.” TJ's eyes narrowed. "Oh, and I won't need that drink you offered me after all. Looks like I didn't have the stomach for the first bit. How about you keep my shaker cup, eh? It's the least I could do for all the assistance you gave me showing me around this week and helping me figure out who to avoid.” “Careful, shortstack. Pretty sure you're making a mistake right now.” “Nah. No mistake. But thanks. So Much. For coming over. To say goodbye.” Blake laid it on thick at the end. A moment of tense silence settled between them before TJ finally spoke. “That's... cool.... We were just about to head out anyway. Take care, ladies.” His inflection ensured not a single person felt anything was 'cool.' TJ pushed against Blake as he made his way past the trio and toward the door. The couple of hangers-on scampered after him looking more like animated caricatures than actual people. Just as he reached the corner Cas called out. “Blake was telling me about your problem with accurately measuring your height, TJ. If you ever need someone to help you buy shoes with even thicker soles than those ones so you can actually hit 6'4,” give me a call. I'd love to help you deal with your insecurity.” TJ stopped for a moment but didn't turn around. His two underlings failed to notice and collided with his broad back. Muttering apologies to TJ, they all awkwardly started toward the exit again. "Well, you two little shits were in fine form. Did you feed each other fistfuls of sass pills while you were flirting earlier?" Karen barely managed to keep a straight face. Blake shook himself out while Cas tried to control his breathing. "Thanks, guys. And Blake, you didn't have to do that, stepping in front of me. It was a stupidly brave, kind gesture and really appreciated but you could have gotten yourself killed or worse what if he had actu-" “Hey.” Blake raised a hand up to Cas's shoulder to snap him out of his rant. “If I didn't want to be there, I wouldn't have put myself there. I'll do it any time and every time....” He looked as if he was going to say something else but instead suddenly blurted,” I, um, have to get out of here. Now. To go do some laundry so I have something that doesn't make me look like a hobo for tomorrow. What time's the class?” "7:30 am. Lasts about 45 minutes. Don't wear loose boxers. See you then?" “Without a doubt.” Blake gave them one final bi flex before making his way toward the men's locker room with an overhead wave. Karen and Cas watched him leave in silence. “You manage to figure out if he likes you yet?” Karen crossed her arms again. “I had, like, five minutes. Five. What do think I said, Nice shoes, wanna fuck?” “From you? Yeah.” “Oh my god. I hate you so much right now.” “Nah you don't. He know you're teaching the class tomorrow?” “Not a chance.” “Smooth. Sure that'll be fun. Maybe I'll show up to see his face.” “No you won't – you won't even be out of bed until after 9:00 am.” “Nooope.” Karen grinned and then looked at Cas expectantly. “Well?” "Well, what?" All Cas could think about was how the hell he was going to patch together a workout when all he could think about was Blake's smile and his biceps and the perfect pattern of shorn hair on his mammoth chest.... “Aren't you going to follow him?” “Like, right now?” “Yes, now! Go.” With a playful shove from Karen, Cas tried to keep from tripping over his own feet as he hurried toward the locker room.
  3. jman250

    Even Exchange: The Mile High Club

    Hello all. It's been a while since I've posted a story. This is a short one that came together in about a day but still took forever for me to post. I was inspired by a story from a while back and, given a recent airplane encounter, felt the experiences meshed well. It's a slightly different take on muscle theft and I'm thinking of expanding it into a series of stand-alone stories. Let me know if you think that'd be worthwhile. Special thanks to @JadeDragon for his work proofing, and his diligent pruning of poorly placed adverbs! ==== Even Exchange: The Mile High Club ==== I sat down across from him. It’s rare to see such a specimen of manhood in real-life and I wanted a closer look. He definitely exuded something special, and his smoking-hot body helped draw my attention from the airport bustle. He seemed engrossed in his phone, crisp blue eyes never leaving the screen. Good thing too, because my admiration showed clear as day. He’d occasionally reach up to scratch the dusting of dirty blond hair on his chin, flexing slightly. The beard accentuated his square facial features but my eyes drew away to study the curve of his bicep. I was annoyed that I couldn’t determine his height; the dark waiting chairs slanted at odd angles so I’d have to wait until boarding. I marveled at the heavy pecs pushing against the white fabric of his palm tree patterned button-up shirt. A sudden voice jarred me to my senses, rudely pulling me back to reality. I jumped, the weight of my (currently) swimmer's build squeaking the canvas seats. The overhead speakers buzzed for an announcement. “Please check any extra bags as this is a completely full flight. We’re about to begin boarding. Line up according to the number printed on your boarding pass.” He looked up and I averted my eyes, as I was afraid of him catching my obvious stare. His biceps rounded, bringing a boarding pass into view. He sighed heavily, causing his shirt to bunch around his torso. With reluctance, I stood and got into my boarding position. Gods, I prayed, please let him sit next to me! I did my best not to touch anyone's bare skin during the crowded boarding process. Not because I'm a germaphobe, it’s just inconvenient having a jumble of other people’s useless feelings and sensations crowding my own. I boarded, found the first empty overhead space halfway down the cabin, and excused myself after asking the aisle occupant to move aside. I took the window seat and watched the forward door. Then I waited for the magnificent stranger to board the plane. It took a while. I absently played with the colorful pendant hanging around my neck. The forward cabin crowded, overhead bins closing as they filled one by one. And then I spotted him, red backpack in hand leading the way. I held my breath as he approached. He opened one, then two, then three overhead bins. All full. He passed me, my neck craning to watch him walk away. Curses. Then he opened the bin behind my row and pushed his backpack inside. “Can I get in here?” He spoke to the aisle occupant. I couldn’t believe my luck! These things don’t actually happen in real-life. My heart beat faster, my grip tightened on the armrests. The aisle occupant moved aside and the man of my admiration sat down in the unoccupied center, directly next to me. He was next to me! Thank the gods for small favors. We all shifted as he settled into his seat. I took stock of the thick legs occupying the limited space next to mine. His shoulders filled the seat and forced his arm to take the entire armrest. I didn’t mind. I slipped my elbow behind his own, nervously trying not to draw attention. I struggled not to glance sideways too often. We took off without issue, leaving our uninteresting valley behind. We ordered drinks and he closed his eyes in the dark cabin. Eventually, our drink orders came. The attendant handed him a half club soda and half tomato juice. In a kind gesture, he reached for my water. I did too and our fingers touched. In that moment a flash of information flooded into my brain! I felt the cold plastic in his fingers, the strain of his shirt against pumped biceps, the bulk of his legs pressed uncomfortably together. Wow, I thought. I always loved the rush. My cock jumped and my heart thudded but he felt nothing. Smiling, he apologized for his helpfulness and finished handing me the glass. I smiled back but for different reasons. He finished his drink and drifted off to sleep. I’d never been this lucky before! These things normally required coercing. Nevertheless, I always keep my cock extra-large for chance encounters like this. It has its uses in more ways than the obvious. I focused on him, his own dick wasn’t bad -- average length but not particularly thick. It felt comfortable in its confined space regardless of the cramped airline seat and his muscled thighs. I looked him up and down, his mouth slightly ajar in his sleep. I smiled at his handsome face. His features really were stunning. I moved my fingers to gently touch his. It’s always slightly odd, feeling two different sensations simultaneously. His cock thickened and lengthened ever so slightly as my own receded, and then it thickened and lengthened again. And again. And again. I reveled in the feeling of his cock getting tight in his underwear. The sensation caused my own member to harden into my now roomier briefs. His cut cock started feeling uncomfortably cramped. I grew it larger one more time, smiling knowingly. That should be enough. I peered around and fished a card from my carry-on bag. It drifted softly from my practiced fingers into his shirt pocket. He’d be sure to find it there later. The flight continued normally. The attendants moved to the front for another round of drinks. We hit turbulence and he elbowed me in the side, waking with a start. I turned my head and smiled at him and he smiled back, mouthing a small apology before shifting in his seat. But he couldn’t get comfortable. I could feel his cramped cock pressed against his thighs. It felt unusually heavy. After a few minutes, he tapped the aisle occupier’s shoulder and asked to be let past. “While you’re up,” I said while rising, addressing the aisle occupant. I flashed a polite smile as I also slid past. My neighbor walked oddly towards the plane’s rear. He appeared to be two or three inches taller than me, maybe around five foot 11. It was obvious to me that he walked with a waddle, unconsciously trying to make more space between his legs. His ass looked amazing. It was tight, round and filled the seat his jeans to perfection. A quick pull and the lavatory door swung outward as he slipped inside. The stall directly across showed a green “vacant” so I took it for myself. What luck! Time to make a move. I didn’t expect much in return -- people didn’t often connect the dots on their own, usually so confused they passed me by. But maybe I’d be able to sneak a feel of those hard arms. I concentrated on him. I felt his agile fingers pull against metal, then metal again with a slow downward slide. Then cotton being moved and … relief! Then a pause, and I grinned. I could feel skin against skin and a warmth on his now much heavier cock. “Yep, it’s real,” I thought to myself. Nothing much happened for a minute or two. It’s difficult the first time, having something familiar unexpectedly change. I know from personal experience. His crotch felt compressed again -- I had to act fast! I slowly and softly unlatched my door. It swung outward noiselessly to an empty corridor. His own door opened and wide eyes met my face. That look in his bright blue eyes made me bold, and I knew I had to go all in. I tapped my chest and his sky-blue eyes followed the motion. His chin dipped, his gaze instinctively darting to his pocket. He reached up and retrieved the card, flipping it over a few times before reading the back. I touched a finger to my lips advising silence. He hesitated, looking bemused. Time slowed contrary to the rapid beating of my heart. This had better work or it’d become a very uncomfortable flight. Then he cautiously took three steps past me and I closed the door. “Hi there,” I whispered. He looked puzzled, likely wondering why he found himself in a cramped space with a complete stranger. A stranger who was a man, no less. Our bodies pressed together. His muscle mass greatly exceeded my own toned body, a good 30 to 35 pounds of pure muscle above my own 165 pounds. I leaned forward to embrace the close proximity. I could feel his heat. He leaned back. “What happened? Who are you?” he said in an unsteady, hushed voice. The blank look on his face spoke volumes -- he barely understood the situation. “Hi,” I said again. “I n-noticed you earlier and you have a great b-body and I want to help.” My original plan didn’t include stumbling over words but, pressed up against this bigger man, I felt less sure. A moment passed. “You did this?” he asked, eyes darting downward. I nodded and smiled, my plan seeming less surefire with every passing second. “How …?” his words trailed off. “Like this,” I said, taking his warm hand in mine. He looked down, unsure of how to react, then his dick started growing. He took a sharp breath and this time, he felt it happen. Blue eyes darted to my face, then down to his jeans. His hand pulled from mine after only a moment and his growth stopped when he broke contact. A hard bicep maneuvered between us, pressing against my pecs in the confined space. I felt his fingers unintentionally brush past my crotch as he felt his own. The feeling of new weight echoed in my mind. His dick had to be well above average by now. I eyed an arm and started to lift my hand. I wanted to touch the bunching triceps between us. But before my hand got too far, he unbuttoned and tugged down his jeans; I stopped in surprise. Most men were never this bold! Boxer briefs came into view and I unconsciously licked my lips at the strained fabric. He pulled down the band and a long, thick, porn-star sized dick swung free. I must have misjudged his initial size because a good six inches of soft, thick cock pushed up against me. Wow, it looked beautiful, I thought. It was a pleasant sight. I felt myself lean forward, putting pressure on his cock between our thighs. Seeing his dick confirmed what he felt happen -- his dick had grown. He saw it just moments ago in the other bathroom and now it was definitely bigger. His cock started to harden, I felt his blood rushing in. Our eyes met again but this time, small lines pushed up around his eyes. A sly grin crossed his face. "Can you do it again?" he asked. I was filled with excitement and surprise. I felt a wash of his craving rush through me. He leaned into me more, grinding his hardening member against me. It felt amazing on my thigh. I could feel him feeling it too, and it felt amazing! I nodded, sheepish, not knowing what to say. He pushed against me and his neck lowered enough to let his lips brush my neck. His arms wrapped around my body, biceps flexing against my arms. He breathed warm air against my skin and whispered, "do it again!" I trembled. My thoughts returned to the big biceps I’d watched flex back in the terminal. His cock fully hardened against our legs, reaching what felt to be ten full, thick inches of meat. It felt powerful against my jeans. My fingers crept slowly until they wrapped around the thick shaft. I felt him shudder in pleasure, a shudder that echoed through me. His arms tightened around me, biceps flexed against my smaller frame. He tensed in expectation. “Ok,” I said, nervously. But those beautiful arms filled my thoughts and before I realized, I started to fill them with size instead. His triceps too. The pressure of his arms against me felt intoxicating as they grew. My own arms shrank in tandem with his growth. It took him a moment to notice the increased strain against his shirt but his head shot up instantly when he did. “You can do that too??” he asked in surprise and I nodded back. Lust filled his sharp blue eyes. They bored into mine with hunger, and maybe something else. I leaned away but his still growing arms kept me steady. “Oh my gods, do it! Make me bigger!” he said, blue eyes ablaze. He was fully embracing the changes. I moaned when I felt his pecs swell bigger. They took up more and more space, filling with more firm, solid muscle. His square, thick pecs pushed hard against me in the cramped lavatory. I felt their new weight increasing moment-by-moment. He didn’t seem to notice my own round pecs dwindle in size. The buttons on his palm tree shirt strained against his growth. “Yes,” he said softly, enraptured, lolling back his head. I looked down and pushed my free hand between us. I groped his stomach, feeling a small layer of fat and started shifting it away onto my perfectly toned body. My sculpted six-pack disappeared as his own solidified. The tips of my fingers pressed through his shirt, I could feel each mound of muscle. One, two, three rows of recently revealed abs. And then the ridges between each mound deepened. His abs suddenly contracting with increased size and strength, bending him forward into me. “Fuck!” he whispered, his hot breath invading my ear. “Keep going!” And I did. My fingertips pushed through a gap between shirt buttons and brushed against the bottom of an expanding pec. I felt the overhang increase above my finger, the heavy weight of more and more muscle increasing every moment. I greeted a nipple with my fingers and I gave it a light pinch. He let out a soft moan in response. I felt the shock run through him and echo through me. But he needed more. I sucked more of his fat onto my own frame and felt a final row of abs reveal themselves below his burgeoning pecs. My finger snuck between them and his pec. I loved the new weight sandwiching my finger between his pec and abs. They felt so heavy, so big! His shirt strained ridiculously tight, creating larger gaps between buttons. I could now peek at rows of brick-like, chiseled abs that were now exposed. By now, my own cock was painfully hard. It screamed at me to be let free. In a frenzy, I let go and his growth stopped. He opened his eyes to watch me unbutton my own fly. I tried pulling down my pants. But my own strong legs and the close quarters made it impossible. He tried to help but between his bulk, my bulk, and his ten-inch dick pressing hard against my thigh, we couldn’t do it. So I grabbed his hand and felt my quads slowly shrink. He made an “umph” sound when his already large legs started expanding inside his jeans. I tried to push the sensations he felt from my mind, a mixture of pain and pleasure. And then his already perfect, round ass started protruding more too. It pushed hard against the sturdy plastic sink behind him and still, the twin globes of his muscled ass continued to grow. They fought for space in the enclosed cabin, but the cabin resisted, pushing painfully against the granite-like mounds. He shoved his cock forward, its hardness grinding against me, and stretched his back towards the mirror to give his ass more room to grow. A small yelp escaped my lips when my feet banged against the opposite wall. His thick, beautiful, growing arms held me tight and he had to lift me -- effortlessly -- to provide himself with more room. “Hold on,” I whispered, again letting go of his hand, stopping his growth. I pushed my jeans and they slid down easily. This surprised my partner, it seemed to be the first time he noticed that I shrank whenever and wherever he grew. His eyes gave me a questioning look but I reassured him. “It’s OK, let’s focus on you,” I said and pulled down my briefs. Out came my cock. There looked to be about eight inches left. He gawked and then smirked, likely remembering where that cock would end up. I thought longingly about how big it was before, but I knew I’d grow it again later. My cock pushed against his in the enclosed space. It felt amazing, electric! His 18 (or maybe 19) inch arms flexed around me. His shirt strained impossibly tight against him but continued to hold. He lifted me more and I started bulking back muscles to help with the job. Friction excited our members, they moved opposite to each other. He lifted my whole body in the cramped space, rubbing our cocks together. I rose by his powerful arms, then he lowered me, rubbing in the other direction. I felt it from us both, from my own dick and the echo of his sensation flooding into me. It felt so good, our magnificent, warm cocks sliding slickly in tandem. I pressed my hands against the ceiling for support and he repeated the up-and-down motion over and over and over. I could feel my balls starting to rise. They were so big and filled me with hormones, intensifying the experience. “I’m close! Not yet,” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut. I spoke mostly to myself, he didn’t make any sign of hearing me. I felt the pressure building! I knew I couldn’t hold it for long, and I wasn’t ready for it to end. Our dicks slid past in constant contact. Feeling in double was more amazing than my mind could handle! I knew what would postpone the inevitable, so my balls started to shrink as his, still confined by boxer briefs, started to grow. My up-and-down motion increased in ferocity as his growing balls inflamed his lust. Both balls pushed down the band of his underwear, growing too big to fit between the elastic and his massive thighs. He started thrusting his hips in time with his lifts. The skin-to-skin contact of our dicks allowed me to continue the growth, so I pushed more size into his globular ass and his thrusting doubled in intensity. I heard fabric tear, and I watched in the mirror as rips began to form along seams in his shirt. The valleys of his back stretched his shirt while hard mountains of muscle jutted outward nearby. His rock hard, ten-inch dick ground into my much smaller thigh. Our dicks moved in concert, pressed down between us and close together. A soft thwacking came from between his legs as his big balls dropped lower and thumped against hard, muscular thighs. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! “Fuck!” was all he could say. “Shh!” I cautioned him. I poured my muscle into him like gushing water freed from a restricting dam! Pound after pound transferred from me to him. My body weight dropped in his arms and that seemed to only increase his frantic grinding. His increasing size fought for more and more of the limited space. I took up less and less, my toned, swimmers body becoming that of a skinny teenager. He started to groan, but I released a hand and shoved it into his mouth! Shirt threads strained. Jeans stretched to the max. Sleeves began to explode. The top buttons of his shirt popped and his deep pec cleavage became exposed. I gazed down at those perfect, round pecs bouncing in time with his thrusts. Then his dick again crept down his thigh. It thickened more, now pressing painfully into my weakened leg. It felt like a hard, hot iron rod forced against me! But still it grew, rock-solid, inching slowly closer to his knee. My up-and-down movements were accelerating. My hair brushed the top of the cabin. His powerful back worked harder so more of his growing dick rubbed against less of mine. I felt my cock shrinking to seven, then six, then five inches. His manhood must have doubled since we met, both in thickness and in length. Then finally he bit down hard on my fingers! The thwacking increased in frequency. I felt his big balls rising! He shuddered in pleasure as he climaxed. Wave after wave of wet cum shot from his hose of a cock and soaked my jeans. I felt orgasm wash over him and echo through me! My fingers ached, but our combined pleasure drowned out the pain. His beautiful, sparkling blue eyes looked into mine, his cock still unloading load after load onto my leg. His eyes glazed over as he put me down, panting. His huge chest heaved up and down with each breath. He looked incredible! His shirt had ripped in multiple places and so had his jeans. Moving very slowly, very carefully, and deliberately, I knelt down. He took up so much space that moving was no easy task. However, my much smaller body made it easier to navigate in the tight space. I placed my mouth next to his cock. It looked glorious and huge. I used one hand to place the softening head into my mouth. The other I used to grab my own still hard five inches of cock and jerked. I licked him clean and let his dick grow a bit more. The head took up slightly more space in my mouth. I engulfed as much of him as could fit and still let it grow. My five inches became four, and I came. The four or five shots from me paled in comparison. My jeans were soaked. Doing his best to move, he reached behind and grabbed a paper towel. I took it and cleaned the floor beneath me. Then I leaned back against the wall, kneeling there for some time just gazing into his eyes. Those magical, blue eyes atop a bodybuilder I had created. He tried and failed to stuff his massive soft appendage back into too tight jeans. He couldn’t button them so he simply shrugged and left his pants undone. His boxers covered just enough to get by. He left the bathroom first. The door swung outward and I stood. He stepped forward but stopped. His gorgeous, globular ass pushed against my spent crotch when he bent down to pick up a small white card. I hadn’t noticed he’d dropped it. He stood up and headed back towards his seat. I closed the door and fell back against the toilet. Wow. The whole encounter probably lasted ten minutes. I’d given him much more than expected, but the look in his beautiful blue eyes made it all worthwhile. I washed my hands and did my best to clean off my jeans. I swam in my clothes. Before long, I followed him out into the aisle, glancing around nervously, worried that somebody might smell his cum. I received a few glances but most were focused on him. We took our seats. Our aisle companion seemed confused to find significantly less armrest space than before. 15B turned and grinned at me. “I’m John,” he said smiling. “We’ve got to do this again sometime -- soon,” he said and pushed his muscular leg against my now shrunken one. I placed my hand on his thigh, quickly finding his soft megacock. “I’ve got your card. I’ll call you,” he said in a whisper, winking. The intercom interrupted my response. “Please prepare for landing.” He turned away but let my hand linger. We didn’t exchange another word for the remainder of the flight.
  4. NeverTooBig69

    Glazed PT1

    I've been working in the same stinking position at a major doughnut store for a year. "Its not uncommon to be promoted within the first six months." Yeah, OK, no. I haven’t even gotten a fucking raise!!! It's a good thing I've been applying elsewhere because the only thing keeping me here are the bodybuilding competitions a block away. Muscleheads love donuts, powerlifters and bodybuilders alike. “Now Josh, we have a new employee coming in today and I want you to show him how to use the register and drive-thru.” “Yes sir.” I'm against training a newbee today and stare daggers at my manager as he leaves me the store for awhile. I get out a mop and start cleaning the store in preparation for the morning rush. I see a vehicle pull up and can only assume it's the new guy. I'm amazed to see it's an older model Hummer, one where you could still tell it was an army surplus vehicle. I try not to scoff as the driver's door opens. “Yay, a guy with a tiny dick trying to compensate with horsepower. He won't even make enough for gas here with a truck like that.” I say to myself. I continue to mop until I see a tree trunk tumble out of the truck. What I assumed was a tree trunk ended up being the most massive leg I had ever seen. It was straining the jeans he was wearing to the breaking point. I could see veins where there shouldn't have been veins but he was not cut, just freakishly huge. His other leg and quads became visible and were over twice the size of his calves. Actually bulls were a better way to describe the monstrous amount of beef attached to his lower leg. His legs gave way to wings that could soar, a pec shelf that I could store milk jugs on, and shoulders that would destroy any doorway. As if that wasn't enough his traps were swallowing his neck and touching his ears. His face was the most dazzling part. Purely masculine with a squared jaw, stubble, and piercing green eyes that bore into my very soul if I dared to look. “This man has enough muscle to register in a tractor pull.” I thought, swallowing the gallons of saliva I'm generating. I'm still trying to figure out how he got his polo over so much muscle when he struts into the store, turning sideways to fit through the door. I think his nips hit the side of the door because he shudders a little as he passes through. I compose myself to not look like a drooling idiot but notice I was still going back and forth with a bone dry mop. I stow it away before he turns around to see me. "Hey little guy, my name's Cody." He has that cocky smile that lets you know he is bigger and stronger than you. Every time he takes a breath, his enormous pecs heave out towards my face, begging to be serviced. "Hi Cody, I'm Josh, I'll be showing you what to do around here. Its pretty easy."I started to feel my cock stir as he stared into my eyes, a look of curiosity on his beautiful face. "I’m not gonna have to wear one of those uniforms, am I?" I look down at the signature brown, orange, and pink uniform. Mine used to be a large, but now I needed an XL because I loved donuts almost as much as muscle. "Well, yeah." "Ok dude, show me whats gotta get done." Cody said as he seemed to be chuckling about the outfit. I go into the back and grab a 3xl from the storage closet. Cody just stares in amazement at it when I bring it back. "That's not gonna fit man, this is a 5xl, and look what this muscle can do to it." He gets that cocky grin, and suddenly does a double bi with such ferocity, I back away. His bis heave towards the sky, growing bigger, and bigger, his sleeves barely containing the mountain forming underneath them. It's then I notice his tri's pulling his sleeves closer and closer to the ground. "Oh yeah dude, this feels so fucking good!" Cody is so enamored with his muscles that he doesn’t notice he just said that out loud. I quickly readjusted my throbbing cock without him knowing. "Well Cody, you're going to have to try squeezing into this." I say with as much authority as I can muster. Cody stops flexing, but not before flexing a final explosive clench and blowing out his sleeves like so much tissue paper. "Ok boss, but I warned you." He struts to the Mens room to try on his uniform as tatters rain from his ruined sleeves to the floor. I run to the front and close the store. To hell if the manager comes back, its Sunday, I don't think he will, plus, this is so worth it. I rush back to the bathroom, hearing him grunt and groan through the door. "Hey Cody, you need help man?" "Yeah Josh, you can help me get into this." I open the door to a sight that is still in my mind now. Cody is trying to squeeze his monstrous torso into a shirt 3 sizes too small. I get behind him and tug the shirt, trying to fit it over his wide lats. "This isn't happening dude, can I wear my shirt?" "Yeah man, this won't work." We are both laughing as he stops struggling. I can just make out a grunt that sounds like “Does the manager care about these shirts?” “Not particularly, the company is replacing the color scheme next month.” Cody grunts in confirmation then I hear him start breathing in. After 10 seconds, I can't believe what I'm seeing. He is slowly expanding before my eyes. The small bathroom is getting smaller as the sounds of threads tearing starts to increase. After 30 seconds he stops and everything gets quiet except for the random snap of a thread here and there. I can just make out Cody's smirking mouth as he mouths the word “Boom.” Suddenly he seemed to double in size as the shirt disintegrated from his hulking form. He then turns around, and something smacks my thigh. I look down to a 12 in python rubbing up against my leg. I am now more thirsty than I have ever been. Cody looks down, sees what happened, then laughs. "Sorry Josh, it was just such a turn on, seeing all this muscle being way to big for the biggest shirt you got, think I could take care of it before I go out there?" I put my eyes back in my sockets, "Sure man, if you need anymore help, just ask." As I am turning to leave, I hear something that makes this the best day at work ever. "Well, could you help me out?" I turn around and see him flexing those meaty pecs, smirking, knowing what I am about to do. I walk to him, get down on my knees, and start sucking through the blue jeans he is wearing. I hear him grunt in pleasure as I feel his cock get harder beneath the denim. "God, this feels so good, let me help you out man." Cody grabs his jeans, and just rips them off, taking his jockstrap with them. I’m left with a 14 in piece of prime meat dripping right in front of my hot, waiting mouth. I attack the newly freed beast with a hunger I didn’t know I had. Cody meanwhile is groaning with ecstasy, digging his face in his deep pits, licking up all his jock juice. I grab onto his hanging quads, bigger than most trees, going to town, feeding on this monster, kneading the balls in my left hand. "OH fuck man, your good at this!!" Cody goes into a most muscular pose, and starts holding it. As he is flexing to the max, I could swear that new muscles were popping out, being pumped full of power. I can feel his cock getting bigger, reading for climax. His gargantuan balls almost visibly boiling, they are so full. Cody is still holding his pose, seeming to grow before my eyes. "This pump is great, I feel like I’m growing man, so much power, so much fucking..mmmmm" I look up to see what happened and I cum in my pants. His pecs had pumped so big, they had slammed his jaw shut, he could now only grunt and groan. I am so thirsty for his cum that I can't stand it. Remembering earlier, I reach up with both hands and squeeze his nips hard. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" He screams, his cock exploding inside me. I can feel cups of cum gushing to my waiting belly and I swallow it all, growing a hard gut under my shirt. I get off it, trying to breath, only to get hosed with even more of his seed. "MMMMMMMMMM.MMMMMMMM.MMMMMM." His screams become groans as the deluge finally ends. Cody is still holding his pose. I can't even see his face from the shelf of his truly godlike pecs eclipsing my view. I hear him try to say something, but his pecs are holding his mouth shut. While he is immobile, I lick myself, and Cody clean. "Good thing we're in a doughnut shop, you just got glazed!", I look up to see Cody bent over so he could see me, his head bent all the way back so he could talk. We stare at each other, and then start laughing. This is going to be the best job ever!