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Transformation Part I: Mutation - Chapter Two


Fulano

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Previous Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

Matt and I were still blocks away from my studio apartment when we walked in front of a vacant storefront with large plate glass windows. “Wait,” he said. We stopped. “Look at yourself.”

 

We stood side by side and appraised our reflections. I did look huge – massive and ripped. I not only felt as if I had just finished an intense full body workout and was completely pumped, I looked like it. Once again I grew hard, but this time it was because some distortion in the glass made me look like a fantasy illustration. Hyper-masculine and massive, but realistic. “Wow.” I said. “It’s flattering. I’ll admit that much. I’m a big guy, but not as big as that window makes me look.”

 

“Yeah you are,” Matt said. “Look at my reflection. It’s accurate, isn’t it?”

 

I had to admit he was right. He looked just as incredibly sexy in the window as he did standing right in front of me. “You look amazing,” I said as I again wrapped my arms around him and pressed my burning equipment into his. “What is it about you that turns me on so much?”

 

“Just lucky, I guess,” he said before I plunged my tongue back into his mouth, forcing his own tongue aside. I let my hands roam freely across his well-defined back, surprised at how silky-smooth his skin felt. My thick pecs pressed into his chest and I could feel his light chest fur brushing against mine. My heart pounded. My head swam. He felt deliriously good against me. I would have sworn I was high.

 

I pulled my head back enough so that I could see his handsome face but still feel his pecs against mine. He was gazing at me, his eyes adoring, doe-like despite their intense blue color. I felt my eyebrows rise involuntarily; my eyes widen a bit more as if to better capture his youthful, masculine image.

 

“You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” he said finally. “So masculine, dark and rugged but gorgeous at the same time.”

 

I laughed. “You’ve had too much to drink,” I said.

 

He shook his head. “I’ve had nothing to drink. You are simply amazing.”

 

The chemistry between us was literally intoxicating. I suddenly felt dizzy and grasped his upper arms to help steady myself.

 

“Your palms are so rough,” he said breathlessly. “I can feel the callouses.”

 

“I work with my hands. The gym doesn’t help. Sorry.”

 

“No, no. I like it,” he whispered between gasps. “You talk as if you have no idea what a man you are. Oh my god.”

 

Our fully engorged cocks pressed against each other through the denim of our jeans and I rocked slowly side to side, rubbing the rather considerable length of his tool with my own.

 

“Grab my nipples,” he said under his breath

 

I complied, taking the firm, perfect nubs and gently rolled them between my fingers. Almost immediately, he threw his arms around me and held on as tightly as he could. I could feel his entire body begin to spasm. “Oh, god!” he grunted. “Ugh!”

 

His strength was surprising as he hugged me, squeezing tightly to hold on as his legs went limp in his ecstasy. His breath was hot on my neck, his blond beard luxurious against mine. “Ugh ... UGH!”

 

I cradled him as he came, holding him up right there on the sidewalk as he released his load in his pants. “Yeah, baby, cum for me,” I whispered in his ear. “Just like that.”

 

A minute passed as he continued to cling to me, moaning contentedly.

 

“Get a room!” Another guy with an effeminate voice yelled as he drove by.

 

“Too late!” A familiar voice shouted back.

 

Matt had recovered by that time and was standing on his own. I released him and turned to see my friend Hank, in his gigantic ginger splendor, standing only a few yards away. His lips, framed by his meticulously trimmed copper goatee, were pressed together with some irritation. Well, this is embarrassing.

 

Hank wore a huge t-shirt large enough to drape from his enormous shoulders and chest. He was typically around 300 pounds off-season. “I got your message,” he said.

 

I put my left arm around Matt’s tight waist. “Hank, this is Matt.” Matt’s jaw dropped.

 

Hank nodded and shook Matt’s hand before turning to me. “You sounded ... strange. I saw the news and was concerned.”

 

Matt gawked at him. I watched his eyes scan hungrily from Hank’s clean-shaven head to his immensely thick forearms, which since he was off-season, currently sported the thick coat of copper hair that had earned him the nickname Big Red. “My god you’re ... you’re...”

 

“You didn’t answer your door or phone so I figured you went to the Eagle,” he said.

 

“This is Hank Davis, Matt,” I confirmed. Hank, my fuck buddy, also happened to be the current Mr. Olympia.

 

“Am I the only one havin’ dis conversation?” Mr. Olympia said crossly. His green eyes and unrestrained Brooklyn accent told me that he had passed the point of patience.

 

“Pushy bottom,” I whispered into Matt’s ear. I finally turned and faced Hank. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m fine, I’m just ... embarrassed.”

 

“I can clearly see that you’re fine,” he said. My old friend was not pleased. “In fact you look better than fine. You’re juicin’ again.”

 

Matt looked at me.

 

“I’m not,” I said sincerely. “I haven’t used in years, you know that. Ask Terry.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Jamal,” Hank said. “You must be at least 250. I’ve never seen you this big. What you doin’?

 

“See?” Matt agreed.

 

Now I was flabbergasted. “Geez! What’s with everyone today? I’m 238. Maybe 240 tops. I weighed this morning.”

 

Hank looked at me doubtfully. “Look, I don’t mind. It’s just that you’re always givin’ me shit about usin’ and here you are.”

 

That was not entirely accurate. I only got on him when he used too much. He was a top-level competitor, but occasionally his dosing would get ridiculous.

 

“I’m NOT using!” I exclaimed. “Give me your cell. I’ll call Terry right now and you can go down with me tomorrow so he can test me.” I held out my right hand.

 

He continued to stare as if he didn’t believe me. Exasperated, I threw my arms in the air, turned around and took a few steps away. “Hank. You’ve known me for ten years. I’m probably the most honest person you know. Why would I lie to you about this?”

 

“It don’t add up,” he said. “Look, I’m glad you’re alright. I’ll give you a call later in the week.” He turned away.

 

“Sure,” I said, surprised and disappointed at his abrupt departure. “Thanks for checking on me, Big Red. I appreciate it.”

 

“Don’t even call me that right now,” he said as he began to cross to the east side of the avenue.

 

Hank shaved his head, but it was his copper-colored hair that had caught my eye a decade ago. I had stopped for coffee on my way to help a friend of mine with a build-out contract he had won near City Hall. His drywall guy had called in sick and I was on stand-by for a new project...

 

I couldn’t imagine that anyone else could fit into the small lower Manhattan coffee shop, but at least I was next in line. Feeling slightly claustrophobic, I turned my head to the right and looked through the double-glazed floor-to-ceiling glass wall. It was about 8:30 and the sidewalk was filled with people on their way to work. I was about to check my position in line when a flash of copper drew my attention. I looked back just in time to see a massively built redhead in a skin tight white v-neck shirt pass through a beam of reflected morning sunlight. His beard and shoulder-length hair seemed to glow even after he was back in shadow.

 

He passed right by me and I craned my neck around to see him pause at the entrance to the coffee shop.

 

“Hey buddy, you’re up,” the suit behind me said impatiently.

 

I jumped. “Sorry,” I muttered before stepping forward and ordering a large coffee.

 

Even as a tall skinny kid was filling my order, I turned back to see where the redhead had gone. The shop was too crowded though. I couldn’t see everyone in line, let alone on the sidewalk outside.

 

Disappointed, I was edging my way through the line to leave when I came face-to-face with a coat of trimmed red hair struggling to escape the opening of a v-neck t-shirt that was stretched across a pair of extra-large pectoral slabs. I looked up at the owner of the massive chest and our eyes instantly locked.

 

“Buy you a coffee?” I asked.

 

“But you don’t even know my name,” he said, playfully. I had already named him, however. Thick copper hair and beard, matching chest and forearm fur, porcelain-white skin with just a touch of red...

 

I held out my hand. “Good to meet you, Big Red. I’m Jamal.”

 

He laughed and took my hand. “Hank,” he said. “And yes, you can buy me a coffee, but you have to wait on line wit me.”

 

Hank continued across the avenue and I smiled to myself as I watched his familiar swagger. “I love you, man!” I called out.

 

“Shuddup,” he said without looking back.

 

Matt looked at me. “That didn’t go very well.”

 

I sighed. “He’ll be fine.”

 

It was obvious Hank was still mad, but I’d upset him worse before. This time, however, I truly had done nothing to anger him - except to somehow gain around ten pounds.

 

*  *  *

 

Or fourteen. Back in the bathroom of my apartment, I stepped off my digital scale. “252.4,” Matt said proudly. “See?”

 

Naturally, I had stopped to check myself out in the full-length mirror on the inside door of my closet and I really did look bigger. Somehow, in the course of the day I had gained a significant amount of muscle mass. I was both leaner and more massive and could no longer deny it.

 

“I don’t know what the hell is going on,” I said to no one in particular. I was certainly pleased with my gains, but also unnerved. “People don’t gain fourteen pounds in one day.”

 

“How big are your arms?” Matt asked.

 

“About nineteen and a half inches. I haven’t hit twenty since I was 35 – the peak of my last cycle – and I wasn’t as lean back then.”

 

“Where’s your tape?”

 

“What makes you think I have a tape?”

 

He gave me the oh-no-you-didn’t look.

 

Busted, I pulled my tape out of the top drawer and handed it to him. I hit a double biceps pose in the mirror. They were clearly bigger. The biceps were full and round with a distinct split that crowned triceps that could only be described as mammoth. My delts looked like segmented cannonballs. Everything was bigger and more cut. Matt stood behind and measured my upper arms. I grew hard just looking at myself. Fucking Muscle Stud, I thought. I bet if I really tried I could give Hank a run for his money by the next Mr. O.

 

My arms, it turned out, were just over twenty inches cold. Despite my confusion, I was giddy. I had reached my goal size naturally, if mysteriously. I turned around to kiss Matt only to find that he had already removed his pants. His long cock was rapidly growing. “Fuck me,” he said as he stared dumbstruck at my chest.

 

I lifted him up with surprising ease – he’s much lighter than I expected – then carried him to my bed and tossed him down. I undressed as quickly as I could but my Levi’s proved difficult to properly remove. I simply tore them off.

 

“That was so easy,” I said to myself as I tossed them aside. I climbed onto Matt. “How’s my sexy boy?”

 

“I must be dreaming,” he said as he looked into my eyes. His expression of adoration was so sweet and sincere I couldn’t help but smile. Once again he seemed almost star-struck.

 

I laughed as I positioned myself over him, supporting myself with my arms. “I feel like I’m dreaming, because I sure don’t remember selling my soul to the devil.”

 

“There is no devil,” Matt said. “But clearly there is a god, and I think he’s about to fuck me.”

 

I blushed and smiled. “Naw, I’m just a big stud alpha male, but I am going to fuck your sexy ass.”

 

“That’s more like it,” he said.

 

As I lubed up, I noticed how big and hard my cock was. It could have been simply that I was unusually excited, but my thick endowment seemed bigger than ever. It didn’t matter, however. All I knew was that it needed to be in Matt’s perfect hole and after a few minutes of kissing on his handsome face and eager lips while gently working his sphincter, I pressed the engorged head against it, locked my eyes on his and began bucking my hips just enough to slowly push it in a half-inch at a time. He grimaced and I paused.

 

“Keep going,” he said between deep, controlled breaths. “I’ll be fine.”

 

He didn’t need to tell me twice and I resumed my measured thrusts. My eyes rolled back in my head as the heat and pressure of his ass caressed my manhood, as if to welcome and thank me for the penetration. “Oh god it feels so good,” he said once he was fully impaled on my tool. Our eyes locked before he smiled and clamped down on my shaft, sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body. I gasped.

 

“You’re telling me,” I said.

 

I fucked him for nearly two hours. Or should I say, his ass serviced my cock for two hours. I stood and used him as a human fleshjack, fucked him on all fours like a dog, fucked him from the side, fucked him as he sat on my cock... I came in his ass three times and never went soft, he shot twice but still couldn’t get enough – then his endurance ran out.

 

“I have to stop,” he said after our last orgasm. We were both dripping with sweat. My sheets were soaked. “It hurts too much, sorry.”

 

He was seated on my cock and I slowly lifted him off. “Hey, don’t apologize. That was ... amazing. And to be honest, my dick is a bit raw too.”

 

The cool air felt strange on my cock, which remained stubbornly erect. I couldn’t recall ever being so turned on, even when I was young. He put his hand around the base. “So fat,” he said as it surged briefly fuller at his touch. “It’s magnificent.”

 

“You make it that way.”

 

I did have a nice cock. It wasn’t huge, but it was decently thick, especially at the base. Hank called it The Torpedo. I thought that was an exaggeration, but today the nickname seemed fairly accurate.

 

He continued to hold on to it, which seemed to keep it from deflating. After a few moments he looked into my eyes again. “You’re magnificent.”

 

I smiled. “Care to join me for dinner?” I ventured. I wasn’t hungry, which was surprising given I was always hungry, but I wasn’t ready to send him on his way either.

 

He sighed. “I can’t. I should be getting back to my friend’s. You’re not easy to just walk away from though.”

 

Despite my disappointment, I chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “How long are you here for?”

 

“Until Saturday,” he said as he ran the fingers of his free hand through the hair on my chest. My cock throbbed again. “Jim is planning some stuff for us to do but I want to see you again.”

 

“Hell, yeah. I work days and go to the gym evenings but I’ll make time for your sexiness.” I leaned over and kissed him. “That was the most fun I’ve had in years.”

 

“Better than Hank?” He asked with a wink.

 

I laughed again. “Hank is ... Hank is ... well, Hank is a long story, but he really does look out for me. He’s a bit needy, but a great friend.”

 

Matt and I exchanged numbers and e-mail addresses – then he was gone.

 

I walked back to my chair, looked at the smashed television, and sighed. He didn’t even ask about that, I thought. I wonder if he even noticed? I fell back into the chair. Matt’s absence was palpable. Our chemistry was magical. Somehow, in the span of only a few hours, he had gotten under my skin.

 

I glanced down at the paper he had written his information on: [email protected]. He was a vet? Veteran or veterinarian? I realized that I really didn’t know anything about him other than that he was from Cleveland, sexy as hell, and an insatiable bottom, at least with me...

 

I held him against the wall, his legs over my shoulders, my hands on his hips, and fucked him relentlessly. “You know you’re a master stud, right?” he said breathlessly. “Right? And so fucking strong.... I wish I could live with your fat cock up my ass. You should get paid to breed... UGH!” A long rope of his cum landed across his face and chest...

 

My dick surged back to life. I had come three times in two hours, something I hadn’t done since high school, and I was hard again. That now-familiar pressure began to build in my crotch.

 

Back in the bathroom, I leaned against the vanity and stroked my cock while admiring my reflection. Thick, ripped muscle covered with glossy black hair. So fucking masculine. I rubbed my left hand over the mounds of my pecs, feeling the dense muscle, lifting the heavy masses, relaxed but powerful, bulging far beyond the shredded cobblestones of my abs. I closed my eyes and worked my cock, imagining that I was fucking Matt’s face, stretching his jaw wide open, forcing my cock down his throat, and listening to him gag even as he pulled my crotch into his face, feeling my low-hanging balls slap against his chin. “Yeah, you’re hungry for that muscle cock, aren’t you boy?” I said aloud.

 

The first volley of cum hit the mirror above the vanity with an audible smack, but in my imagination I was pumping my load down his throat, filling my hungry boy with cum until his belly was distended.

 

I opened my eyes. Four distinct ropes of cum hung from the mirror. What the fuck???

 

After cleaning the mirror, I stepped back and appraised my physique. I still looked bigger. There was no question. Bigger and more ripped. I stepped back on the scale again: 253.5.

 

I gained a pound while having sex for two hours and not eating anything? Again incredulous, I went to the closet, pulled the mechanical scale from the top shelf and stood on it, watching the dial swing and bounce a few times before settling on 255.

 

I walked back to the digital scale in the bathroom: 253.5. Goosebumps formed all over my body – I was growing – without eating.

 

Which was, of course, impossible.

 

 

 

Next Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1261-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-three/

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