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Hey, Big Guy (Complete Story 6/25/19)


TQuintA

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Oh my god... yes this is sexy but that ending to the chapter had me rolling in laughter. Its a very fascinating way to make someone grow, Love it. 

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I LOVE the dialog -  

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 Dave turned around to look at his boyfriend.  Then back at me.  Then back at his boyfriend.  “You’re hotter,” he said to Luke.  He went over to his Luke and wrapped his arm around his waist.  “I got distracted by the new and shiny.”

            Luke didn’t break the embrace but did pull away a little.

            “Forgive me?” Dave said and kissed Luke’s neck.

            Luke blushed a bright scarlet and pushed him away.  “Alright, alright.  Just keep your tongue in your head.”

            Dave looked back at me.  “But there are so many new places to put it.”  

 

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Excellent writing!  I sometimes wonder (am pretty sure) whether we have professional writers in this group.  The way the dialog flows, the effortless movement of the plot, the casual descriptions of muscle and growth that don't seem shoehorned into the text.....It's all good!

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Chapter 6

            Dave pushed me down into my usual chair in the cafeteria with a thud.  “Stay here,” he commanded like I was a dog.  Luke held back his laugh as the two of them went off to gather our lunches.

            So much was familiar, and so much was strange and new.  Dozens of times I’d seen Dave wear this outfit—royal blue dress shirt and just too tight jeans.  But it was weird seeing it on my body, and even weirder that my body filled it out like Dave’s did.  I sat in this chair for lunch nearly every day—we thought of it as our table.  But with my recently enlarged ass, the chair felt small, and my view was higher by half an inch or so.  It was a surreal experience.

            I shifted my bulk in the chair, trying to find a position that felt familiar, when I felt someone poking me in the back of the head with a tray.

            “That’s not your spot,” James said, pulling out the chair next to me, his customary seat.  I turned around to attempt to explain.  When he saw my face, he dropped his tray on the table, overturning his bowl of broccoli.  His bowl of chicken teetered and wobbled, but stayed upright.  “Fuck me, Chris!”  After a pause, he added, “Fuck.”

            “That about sums it up,” I said.

            James slid into his seat, clapped his left hand to the back of my neck and shook it enthusiastically while patting my flat stomach with his right.  “This is a you I really like.”

            “You’re not curious how I ballooned into a beefcake in one morning.”

            “Is that so unusual?”

            “Yes, James.  Yes, that is very unusual.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Am I sure that people don’t spontaneously put on 40 pounds of solid muscle in one morning?  I think it would’ve been in the newspapers.”

            “What’s a newspaper?”  His blank look indicated he had never heard that word before.

            “You don’t know what a newspaper is?”

            He cast his eyes to the side: shamefaced or guilty, I couldn’t tell.  “Of course, I do.  That was a joke.  A joke where I pretended to be dumb.”

            I let it slide.

            James set about eating his lunch.  I fell into a comfortable silence.  Somehow, James being weird made me feel normal again.  After his third or fourth bite, James looked up at me with a mischievous spark in his violet eyes.

            “What’s with the look?” I asked.

            “I thought you could read my mind.  I expected you to slap me for that thought.”  He hesitated, then added, “It was ungentlemanly.”

            A puzzled look colored my face.  He didn’t know bagels or newspapers, but “ungentlemanly” tripped off his tongue.

            Before I could ask James anything, Luke and Dave came back to the table.  Luke placed a tray mounded high with food in front of me.

            “Dig in,” Luke said as he sat in his chair opposite me.  Dave, already seated, gestured to my tray.

            “What is this?” I asked.

            “Baked catfish, brown rice, and spinach,” Dave said flatly.

            “Yeah, I know that, but…”

            “I thought you liked catfish.”  Disappointed, Dave’s voice rose into a higher register.

            “I love catfish,” I corrected, “but this is a river’s worth of catfish.  And a meadow of spinach.  I can’t eat all of this.”

            “Correction—you couldn’t eat all of this,” Dave stated.

            Luke explained.  “It takes more fuel to power a body like yours, especially if you cut out the fries you usually have at lunch.”

            “I’m not naïve.  I knew I wouldn’t have fries, but…”

            James tried to hide another furtive smirk.

            “Was that one ungentlemanly too?” I asked him.

            “If you only knew.”  He chuckled sinisterly and took a bite from his fork.

            Ignoring James, I returned to Dave.  “I’ll try to eat this, but I think most of this will go to waste.”

            Two minutes later, my tray was empty.

            Dave reached across the table to pat my head.  “Good boy.”

            I sat there and recovered from shoveling food into my face.  Luke and Dave explained to James everything that was happening.  He had zero follow-up questions, so when Luke and Dave finished their lunch, we agreed that in order to hide my makeover, I’d spend the night in Dave’s room and we wouldn’t meet up until after the showcase.

            “I want you to get the full effect onstage tomorrow,” Dave said.  “And there’s always a party after these sorts of things.”

            “I don’t know, babe” Luke said.  “I don’t think you can make it through a whole night without me.”

            “Chris is spending the night in my room, not me.”

            “That makes more sense,” I added. 

            With that decided, Dave stood up and grabbed everyone’s trays.

            James patted me on the back to say goodbye, adding, “Have fun shopping, Big…”

            Dave dropped the trays, spun around, and tore James’s hand off my back.  “No, no, no, no, no!  There will be no more Big Guys until after the showcase tomorrow night.”

            James looked down, castigated.

            “Keep your hands to yourself, mister,” Dave added, throwing James’s hand into his own lap.  With that, he pulled me out of my chair and made a beeline for his car.

            “Are we just going to leave the trays on the floor?” I asked.

            “Luke will get them.”

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