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  1. 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.
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