TQuintA Posted April 6, 2020 Author Share Posted April 6, 2020 Chapter 24 I enjoyed myself four more times that evening. I took periodic breaks to clean the bathtub, take a shower, have dinner—things like that. For one of my breaks, I decided to see just how strong my new muscles were. Mo had banned me from the gym until the spell completed, so I walked around the apartment lifting random things. I started with the couch; it was so light, I barely felt it. The bed Oz and I shared was a little more of a challenge, but that was partially because of its shape. When I stood in the right spot, I could lift the whole thing off the floor in one movement. I could feel it in my glutes, but it wasn’t overly heavy. The fridge was the biggest challenge. Oz had gotten me one of those double-wide, stainless steel devices with a side-by-side freezer. It took some effort and focus, but I was able to lift it off the ground. I couldn’t wait to get this body back into a gym. Despite fun like that, the bulk of my time was spent managing my libido. In fact, I would probably have orgasmed yet another time, so high was my need for release, but around eleven, Mo came home. Fortunately, it was during one of my breaks. He announced his presence by knocking on my door. “Your baby brother is home. Put on some clothes and join him in the living room.” I threw on a pair of boxer briefs and Oz’s robe. I was able to cinch it in the middle and hide my bulge, but my chest and shoulders were too broad for Oz’s clothes now, so my furry pecs were peeking out of the top half. When I came into the living room, Mo wolf-whistled. “Thank you,” I said, sitting in the armchair. “But I took your advice, and I think I’m good on orgasms for the night.” Mo pointed at my crotch; Oz’s robe had slipped open. “Not with that cannon you aren’t.” “I am now officially done with this topic,” I said, frantically closing the robe again. “How was dinner with Alexander?” “Pretty good. I came clean to him.” “You did what?” “Well, as clean as I could. But I didn’t lie. I explained that Carr hired me to investigate staffing irregularities at C&G, which I was. I said that I flirted with him before I was really attracted to him, which is true. I said I flirted with him so he’d have lunch with me and give me all the office gossip, which I did. But then I caught actual feelings for him, which I have.” “Cayden Todd has actual feelings for a boy?” “What can I say? I like him.” “Glad to hear it. You guys going to try the long-distance thing? I know you have to go back to…” I trailed off. “Where do you live now?” Mo moved around so much that I frequently lose track. “See, that’s the thing. I have a new job starting up in London.” “London. Ouch.” “You and Oz made trans-Atlantic work.” “Oz and I have been making it work for six months, not indefinitely. And, we had a stable bedrock of 15 years of marriage beforehand.” Mo pouted and threw his head back childishly. “Fine. I know.” “Alexander’s a wealthy fellow. He doesn’t need to work at C&G. Ask him to come to London with you. At least for a little while.” Mo shook his head emphatically. “Too big a step. I’ve known him for three days. The feelings I have might just be infatuation.” “I’m not saying marry the man. I’m saying see if you work in London as well as you work in Boston. If you do, keep taking steps until you decide if this is more than just infatuation.” “See. That’s good advice. This is why I need my big brother.” I offered to hug him, and he looked at me. “Are you kidding me? You want me to hug you with your magnificent, hairy chest peeking out through a robe you’re exploding out of? I’m not tempting fate. Night, Eenie.” I went to bed feeling content. I woke up feeling content. That morning, I decided not to shave, to just grow in the beard. At the rate my facial hair was growing, why fight it? I was making my morning coffee when there was a knock at the door. Letting the water percolate, I went to the door and opened it. It was Alexander. “Morning, Alexander,” I said. “Morning, Ian.” “Mo’s getting dressed, but you can…” Alexander interrupted me. “I’m here to see you.” “Oh, okay. Come into the kitchen. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.” Once we were in the kitchen, Alexander sidled up close to me, not close enough to touch thank goodness. There was an entire sink’s length between us. After a deep breath, he said, “Is Cayden serious?” “Serious about what?” “About me,” Alexander said. “I know my strengths. I’m a skilled artist. I am a master at wines. I have impeccable taste in just about everything. But I also know my limitations. For one, I’m not hot.” “Shut up,” I said. “You’re plenty hot.” “Really, Ian? Then why did you never ask me out?” “I met you when we were 18. I was a shallow little fuck who couldn’t see everything you offered. I didn’t even kiss a guy unless he was taller than me and had a beard. Mo used to joke I was a carnival ride with a sign shaped like Smokey the Bear saying ‘You must be this much of a bear to ride.’ But you were fun to hang out with. You still are.” The coffee had finished brewing, so I got two mugs out of a cabinet. “Don’t tell Oz, but I actually did think about having sex with you once.” “Really?” Alexander said. “The night of homecoming sophomore year.” I poured Alexander a mug of coffee and gave it to him. “About three months before I met Oz. You were such a good friend, and I could tell you wanted more from me. I didn’t want to lose you. I almost convinced myself to try having sex with you to see if we worked that way.” “Why didn’t you?” He put his mug on the kitchen table. “I realized it would have been a pity fuck. And I don’t pity you. You deserve to have a man who wants to be with you.” Alexander sighed. “Everyone says I make a great friend. I want something more than that.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and hopped up to sit on the counter. “I think you could have that with Mo.” I took a sip of coffee. “Maybe. I’m not promising.” Alexander hopped up onto the counter on the other side of the sink. “What makes you say this?” “Well, he told you the truth about why he’s working at C&G for one. He has no problem lying to the guys he’s just using.” I took another sip of coffee. “That’s true.” “He told me he had feelings for you last night.” “Really?” Alexander was intrigued. “Yeah. He’s not sure what they are, but he’s never even admitted to having feelings for a guy before. That’s a breakthrough all by itself.” I took another swig of coffee. Alexander slumped. “He’s probably just feeling friendly affection.” Alexander looked away while he said the following. “When he told me that he had been hitting me up for information, it made total sense. He was sleeping with me to keep me on the hook. That’s why someone as gorgeous as Cayden would deign to sleep with me.” “Do you know what Mo said about you the first time he saw you? As we were walking to Mr. Carr’s office?” He looked back at me, worry in his eyes. “No.” “He called you ‘an absolute snack.’ In fact, I told him to be careful with you.” “A snack? Really?” “His word, not mine.” “I told him to invite you to London. Just for a bit. To see if this is relationship potential.” “Really now?” “Yeah. You’ve got vacation time you never use. And if you need more than the two weeks, it’s not like you need the paycheck C&G gives you.” Alexander looked despondent for a second. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” I reassured him. “I want to go.” I finished my cup of coffee and put the empty mug in the sink. “I have an idea. Mo doesn’t like being cramped in my Miata. He says I take up too much space.” “You do,” Alexander said. “So, for the next week and a half, be his ride. Drive him to work. Drive him home. Sit with him at lunch. Go on dates. Hang out here some evenings. Spend the night if you want. Squeeze as much relationship in as you can before he has to go to London. See if this could be serious for yourself.” “Solid plan.” At the same time, Mo came into the kitchen. “What’s a solid plan?” he asked. “I suggested Alexander escort you to work for the next week and a half since you don’t want to drive with me anymore.” Mo smiled and took Alexander under his arm. “I’ve always wanted a sexy chauffeur all to myself. Thank you, brother.” “You’re welcome.” “If I could offer you some advice,” Mo said. “Sure. Why not?” “Today’s an excellent day to ask Garrett that thing you were dying to ask him about.” “What thing? Garrett?” I was genuinely confused. “You know. Ask him about his vision for the future. Take him by the hand and see what shakes loose.” I nodded. Hopefully, Garrett was as straight as he acted. 18 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 6, 2020 Author Share Posted April 6, 2020 Chapter 25 I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to accomplish my goal. I didn’t want Garrett to catch wise, especially if he had been the one to cast the spell. Managers aren’t supposed to touch the people who work for them. That went double for employees who have made it clear they don’t like or respect you. There are very few approved ways of touching: the handshake, the pat on the shoulder, the accidental bump. Garrett spent most of his days at work trying to thwart me, so I doubt he’d reciprocate a handshake. Besides, I’d tried that yesterday, and he just walked away. If I pat him on the shoulder, he might take it as a come-on. Even if I saw no vision whatsoever, I wouldn’t want him to think I was coming on to him. That really only left the accidental bump. But if I did it wrong, it wouldn’t look accidental, and we’re back to him mistaking it for a come-on. And if I assumed Garrett was the caster, well, any sort of touch could let him know I was suspicious. The stage was probably the most important piece of the puzzle to figure out first. An accidental bump would be significantly harder in his cubicle. For one, Alexander would be there, but that cubicle was so small, there really wasn’t room to bump. Places like the bathroom, elevator, and hallways seemed ideal. They were all narrow, and they were all perfectly innocent places for me to be. However, unless I out and out stalked him, there was no way of guaranteeing he would be in any one of them. As I sat in my office pondering a solution to my conundrum, I got a lucky break. He came to me. It was about 10:30 A.M. I was taking a quick break from my paperwork, and Garrett knocked on my door. “Come on in,” I said. He entered the room predatorily, just like always. He was dressed in a mint green dress shirt, burgundy tie, and flint grey slacks. His belt was a thin strap of sand-colored leather that brought the whole look together. While I internally wished for his fashion sense, he scanned the room, walking around, his hands behind his back. “Still no pictures of the Mister,” he said. “I thought you’d fix that.” As he continued looking, he stared intimately at the painting Quincy had hidden the camera behind. He asked, “Is this higher than it was the last time I was here?” “Yes it is,” I said. “Did you just come in here to offer me more decorating tips?” “I came in here to ask for a truce.” This was out of nowhere. “You’ll have to be more specific.” “I’m sure you’re well aware that there’s an opening for manager in the art department.” I was not aware. The only two people I dealt with in the art department on a regular basis were Garrett and Alexander. I waited a few seconds for Garrett to continue, but he didn’t. So, I said, “And…?” “I’m applying for it.” Again, a long pause. “And…?” “Don’t sandbag it.” “Why would I?” Garrett answered before I even finished talking. “I know I make your job hard, but I applied for your job when you did. We started at the same time, we had a similarly impressive track record, and Hugo likes me more than he likes you.” “You call Mr. Tyler Hugo?” “My point exactly. On paper, we were 100% equally qualified, but the boss liked me. The only way you could’ve gotten this promotion was if you sabotaged me.” I had not sabotaged him even a little. I always thought his behavior was just sour grapes, but it was a little deeper than that. “That’s not why I got the promotion,” I asserted. “Don’t tell me it was some gay affirmative action nonsense. Hugo would never…” “I got the promotion,” I said, standing up to my full height, “because my degree is in marketing. Your degree is in art.” “I minored in marketing,” he retorted. “I minored in business.” “It couldn’t be that simple.” “You’re right. It’s not.” I sat on my desk. There was only my guest chair between us. “You forget one crucial thing. Networking. One of our company’s biggest investors is the Bailey Group. And Vernon Bailey will only do business with me.” “So, you didn’t sabotage me?” “Nope. Mr. Tyler promoted me because I was, as you so rightly point out, qualified. But his secondary reason was to make the Bailey Group more comfortable investing further money into the company.” “Dammit,” Garrett said. “You really didn’t sabotage me?” “It never occurred to me to sabotage you. In fact, I think you’d make an excellent manager in the art department. Would you like me to write you a letter of recommendation?” Garrett’s jaw dropped open. “Close that thing before you catch flies,” I told him. “You’d help me get the promotion? But I’m such an asshole to you.” “If you get the promotion, I’d have one fewer asshole reporting to me.” “But this promotion would make us equals. Could you really do that?” “I’d still have years of seniority on you, and we’d be in different departments, so I don’t think you could call us equals. But we would be on the same level of the org chart, if that’s what you meant. Yes. I would help you do that. You’re good at your job, and you’re the person I trust of to sit in for me when I’m not here. You’re always the first person I ask to fill in if I can’t be here.” “That wasn’t fucking with me? Some sort of mind game? That was trust?” “Yep. So, do you want the letter?” I asked again. “Definitely.” He offered me his hand. I shook it. He smiled warmly at me. The first warm smile I’d seen from him ever. I braced for him to tear my clothes off or grab my head in a kiss, but nothing happened. When the shake ended, he left the room. I went back to my desk and sat down a little disappointed that nothing had happened. Not even thirty seconds later, he popped his head back into the room. “Wanna grab some drinks after work?” “Excellent idea,” I said. In what felt like no time, we were sitting next to each other at a bar, sharing drinks. He even talked me in to drinking beer. I always preferred wine to beer, but beer just felt right this time. Soon enough, we were laughing about all the shit we’d given each other over the years. “I thought you were my biggest rival,” he admitted. “I liked sparring with you,” I replied. “But I never wanted to be your enemy. You definitely kept my sword sharp, though.” I don’t know if it was the spell or the alcohol, but I just wanted to lean over and kiss him, even if he didn’t want to kiss me. Five drinks in, we were sitting on the same side of the booth. His cheeks were bright red from drinking. My cock was stretching out into an erection. He was witty, and charming, and looked unbearably cute all pink. Eight drinks in, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to have him. I casually put my hand in his lap as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’m married,” he said, removing my hand. “So am I,” I reminded him. “But my husband’s not here.” This had to be the spell. It had to be. He leaned over and kissed me. It was tentative, but sweet. He kept his eyes closed the entire time. “I haven’t done that since college,” he confessed. I leaned in and propped my head on my fist. “So, you have been with men before?” “Not men. Just one. Dennis. My junior and senior years at Northeastern, my roommate was on the hockey team.” “Go Huskies!” I cheered, taking a swig from my beer. He leaned in close and began talking in a hushed whisper. “We’d only been roomies for two weeks before we were screwing like rabbits. But Dennis told me I had to keep it a secret ‘cause he wasn’t out to the hockey team. But for those two years, he was my everything.” “What happened, then?” I asked. “We graduated. I stayed on to get my Masters, he went who knows where. I haven’t seen him since 2007. He broke my fucking heart. I would’ve married him. I came out to my severely Catholic mother as bisexual for that man. She never stopped doing rosaries the whole two years I was with Dennis, and when he abandoned me, she basically said, ‘I told you so.’ “It was almost a full year before I even went on another date. And with the exception of Dennis, I’d never really been attracted to men, so I just went back to dating women. I met my Cara. We dated. We fell in love. We got married. We had kids. Life happened.” “Do you still think about Dennis?” “Like when I’m making love to Cara?” I shrugged. “Cara. Yourself. Whenever.” Garrett looked down at the table. It was hard to tell because of how red the beer was making his cheeks, but he seemed to be blushing. “That’s a yes,” I said. “It’s okay. Fantasies are just that.” “I lied to you,” he blurted. “I said that I’d never been attracted to men except Dennis. That’s a lie I tell myself. It’s rare, but it happens.” “Oh,” I said, pretending to find it scandalous. “So, with guys, who’s your type?” He grabbed my face and kissed me again. This time, there was no hesitation. He kissed me long and deep, so deep I was having trouble catching my breath. When the kiss ended, he didn’t take his hands off my face. “You are the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.” “Thank you,” I said. It was my turn to blush. “But I won’t cheat on my wife,” he insisted. “Haven’t we cheated already?” I taunted. This had to be the spell. Or the alcohol. Or both. There is no way I would say that stone cold sober and unenchanted. “I’ve got to go,” Garrett said, and ran out of the bar. I was left alone, drunk, and hard as a rock. And for some reason, there was the faintest smell of wintergreen in the air. 22 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post TQuintA Posted April 6, 2020 Author Popular Post Share Posted April 6, 2020 Chapter 26 When Garrett got the promotion a month later, he invited me to the party at his house. It was a small gathering of people—no more than 20. When I showed up without Oz, Garrett was visibly shocked. Making sure no one was following us, he guided me down to the basement. Once we were alone, I spilled everything. “Oz stayed in Germany,” I said. “I told him about our kiss. And we had a huge fight. His project hit a setback anyways, so he just stayed. And now I don’t know when he’ll be back. I haven’t seen him since early October.” I had wanted to keep a brave face, but it was still a fresh wound, so I just burst out crying. Garrett took me in his arms. I had to lean down to reach his shoulder, but he held me while I wept. “I think he’s left me for good,” I confessed. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know it’s hard to believe it now, but you’ll be happy again someday.” “I’m ruining your big day,” I said. “This is more important,” he said. He stroked my back softly and just stood there while I wept. As Garrett held me in his arms, I felt safe, but not aroused. Ever since the spell had completed, my sex drive was almost non-existent. I’d kept the height, the hair, the muscles, and the giant cock, but I really didn’t want to do anything with it. I’d never figured out who’d put the spell on me, but the consequences they’d imagined could have been far worse. Garrett just let me cry for ten minutes, holding me the whole time. In part because of that bonding experience, Garrett and I started having lunch together every day in the executive lunchroom. We’d occasionally sneak Alexander in to join us, but after Alexander followed Mo to London, it was just the two of us. By the time Oz had officially served me divorce papers—mid-July—Garrett and I were inseparable. September arrived, and it was time for my birthday. Mo and Alexander had sent a ridiculously lavish present—a furniture set that was almost too big for my new apartment (there was no way I could afford the one Oz and I had shared by myself). Garrett came over to celebrate with me. While we ate dinner, he asked me how I had stayed in such great shape during the whole divorce ordeal. I didn’t want to confess that I’d only gotten the body through magic, but I had steadily improved it over the last five months. I’d steadily grown to an impressive 250 pounds of muscular beef. I told Garrett the truth that I could. “Once Oz left me, I wasn’t really interested in dating. And my best friend left the country. I had way too much free time, so I basically moved into the gym. The rest was luck and genetics.” “Luck my ass,” Garrett said. “When we both started working at C&G, we had very similar builds. I’ve always put on muscle easily.” “That’s right!” I said. “Your little competition with me.” It all flooded back to me. When I was first promoted over Garrett, he started lifting weights with fervor and dedication, determined to get bigger than me. For a while he gave me a run for my money, but I always stayed just a little bigger than him, and he’d given up the contest when his eldest was born. “If you recall, I thought you were trying to ruin me.” “So, your revenge was to start working out and putting on muscles, to what? Intimidate me? Subjugate me?” “At the time, I thought I was trying to get bigger than you to show that I was superior.” “And now?” “Now I think I just wanted you to notice me.” “Funny. At the time, I thought I was trying to stay bigger than you to keep Oz happy. Bragging rights. Something like that.” “And now?” he echoed. “I think I just wanted you to notice me.” Garrett and I had not kissed since that night in the bar back in April. I was painfully aware of this. But I was hoping he’d change his mind. I would never have confessed this out loud, but part of why I kept working out was to make him notice me again. My sex drive was all but dead, but my desire for romance still flickered. When dinner ended, Garrett patted his slight belly and announced, “I should get back into weightlifting,” “I’d love to have a gym buddy,” I said honestly. “I don’t think I’m on your level.” “Yet,” I challenged him. By the end of September, we were going to the gym together four days a week: twice after work, and both Saturday and Sunday. Garrett impressed me in the gym. At the end of 30 days, he’d lost all of his tummy and put on just a little bit of mass. He looked like he did at the height of our muscle-building competition. “160.” I said, reading the scale. “Impressive.” “Not as impressive as your 252.” I dismissed him with a hand gesture. “I had a head start. Nothing special.” It was a great routine we developed. Because we ate together every day, we kept each other honest and dedicated. Over the next seven months, Garrett committed himself to catching up to me. By the time it was April again, he’d bulked up to an impressive 195. And he carried it beautifully. His shoulders were broader, his pecs stuck out further, his abs hardened. And his legs. Oh, his legs were his beautiful. The shape and definition in his legs was nothing short of masterpiece. In the same timeframe, I’d steadily increased as well. I was a solid 267—bigger than I’d ever thought I’d be. Garrett had talked me into shaving daily to show off my symmetry and definition. He was right—keeping my forest trimmed made me look extra-large. Two days after that weight in, a year after our kiss, Garrett showed up at my door in the middle of the night. “Cara left me,” he said. I dragged him inside and got him a beer—a light beer, obviously (no need for excess calories). We sat on the furniture Mo and Alexander had bought me and drank in silence. After a few minutes, I said, “Tell me everything, man. Just spill.” “She thinks I’m cheating on her.” “With Julie? That new girl in your department?” “With you, idiot.” “But we’ve never.” “I know we’ve never. But she’s kinda right. I get things from you I do not get from her.” “Ah. An emotional affair.” “She knows about Dennis. She thinks it’s only a matter of time until you and me do make this physical. She took the kids to her mother’s. I don’t know what to do.” “If you have to stop hanging out with me to keep your wife and kids, I’ll survive. Don’t pick me over your kids.” Garrett looked down at his nearly 200 pounds of masculine beauty. “Cara has refused to sleep with me since December. She says I’m getting too big.” Mockingly, I said, “Then you’ve got to let her go.” “I know.” I had not expected that answer. Garrett continued. “I’ve never been more comfortable in my own body, and she wants me to go back to soft, pudgy Garrett.” “He was hot too,” I said. “You forget, I spent half my life with a man with a belly. No shame in that.” “But I don’t want to be that guy. I used my son as an excuse, but I stopped lifting weights the first time because Cara asked me to.” “Really?” “Really.” I couldn’t think of what to say, so I just said, “Fuck.” “Do I really want her back?” “Don’t forget the kids.” Garrett shook his head. “She’s not heartless. Even if we get divorced, she’s promised me shared custody.” I got close to him on the couch. “So, the question is, do you still love her?” Without saying anything, Garrett leaned over and kissed me. I ran my hands all over his firm body, he grabbed my chest and squeezed, flicking my sensitive nipples with his pinky. After a minute of intense kissing, he pulled back. “I’m not ready to have sex,” he said. “I get it. It’s all cool.” I didn’t know how to tell him just how low my sex drive had become, but I figured that was a conversation for another day. In the year since the spell finished, I hadn’t even masturbated. Even though I still found men attractive, Garrett especially, I almost never felt like having sex. “But we can make out some more,” he said. We moved in together later that week. We needed a place with at least two guest rooms for his kids (one for his daughter, one for the boys), and my apartment was just too small. Since we were moving anyways, we found an apartment right next door to a hardcore gym. His kids were surprisingly psyched to meet me. The boys (Jacob, 7, and Trevor, 9) liked working out with me in the gym. And I was willing to roughhouse and play sports with them, something their parents never did. When Garrett saw how much fun we were having, he joined in. His daughter Ashley, 8, liked that I would play dress up with her. She was going through a bit of a princess phase, and I was more than happy to play the brave knight who rescued her, the evil dragon who imprisoned her, or wise wizard who granted her magic powers so she could rescue herself. Frequently, I played all three. Garrett put his fashion sense to good use and got her a small trunk full of princess costumes. They lived with us two weeks at a time, and by the end of May, they were calling me Big Papa. Garrett now free from his wife, we stepped up the workouts. When his divorce was finalized in June, Garrett had packed on another 15 pounds of pure muscle, putting him at 210. In the same timeframe, I’d crawled just a bit bigger to 270. At a certain point, every pound is a victory, but I was unabashedly jealous of how quickly Garrett was getting bigger. One night, when the kids were with Cara, I turned to Garrett in bed, and I felt a spark of sexual desire. I hadn’t felt any in so long that I almost didn’t recognize it, but when I started to get an erection, I realized what it was. I moved in to initiate, but he dismissed me, patting my cheek and pushing me away. “We’ve been living together for months now. Sleeping in the same bed. I know you’ve only ever been with one guy before, but you’re clearly into me.” I flexed my bicep and watched as his eyes followed its dance. “It’s stupid, and you’re going to hate me.” He turned away from me and pulled the blankets closer up to his chin. I pulled him back around, put my index finger under his chin, and tilted his head up so he was looking at me. “I love you. I love your kids. I love our life. If you don’t love me, let me know now so I can leave with some sense of dignity.” “I love you too.” “Then why aren’t we having sex?” “I don’t want to say,” he slid away, and moved to get out of the bed. “You’re not getting out of it that easy,” I said, bounding up, grabbing his shoulders, and rolling with him until he was underneath me on the bed. Rather than angry, I had a huge smile on my face. Our wrestling matches were the closest we got to sex. His body went slack. “I don’t want to have sex with you because you’re bigger than me.” I’d seen Garrett’s dick a number of times since we’d moved in together. He was an average 6 inches. He had nothing to be ashamed about. I guess my 10-inch monster was a little scary. “You can top. I know my cock is fucking huge, but I’m more than happy bottoming.” “Not that. Although that doesn’t help.” “Is this because I’m taller than you? I’m only four inches taller. Sex won’t be a challenge at all.” “That doesn’t help either, but this is about your muscles.” I made my pecs dance one by one. “I know you love them.” “Yes, of course I do. I just want mine to be bigger.” “We’re getting you there.” “I’m bigger than I’ve ever been in my life,” Garret felt the muscles on his chest and abs, unconsciously flexing his biceps. “Most people think I’m a bodybuilder. Then they see you, and I go back to looking like the little man. I know I can’t get taller than you or get a bigger cock. But if I had bigger muscles than you, I don’t think I’d feel so small.” I let him up. “Then we have our project. We make you stupid big huge.” “You mean…?” “I’ll push you extra hard in the gym, make you eat big at home, and we’ll find a way to finance any supplements and… chemicals you need.” The next few months were fucking awesome. I’d never intentionally tried to help someone get bigger, and it was fucking hot. I studied up on what to do, and prepared it all for him. At the same time, I didn’t slack off in the gym; I was going to make him earn it. When my birthday came around three months later, he had blown up to 240 pounds. He was as big as I had been the night of our first kiss. And, oh, did he wear it well. Because he was just a bit shorter than me, he looked even bigger than I had at that weight. I let him have some of my old turtlenecks, and I could tell his shoulders stretched them more than mine had. He had a slight gut from his chemical assistance, which stretched the front of all his clothes, but it was capped with thick, corded abs. His legs, continuing their divine perfection, were already making him start to do that enticing bodybuilder waggle, and his ass was a mountain of hard brawn. In the same time, I was up to 280. I hadn’t taken any of the more illicit substances he had, but I had mastered the fine art of supplements. My body fought itself for space everywhere I went. Doorways had become obstacles some time ago, but now it was more of a game to fight my way through them. I was most proud of my lats and biceps—their combined girth and bulk made me wider than a Mack truck. Our growing bodies took up more and more space in the bed. Soon, we had to sleep half on top of each other just to both fit. The kids thought our growth was cool. The boys saw the potential their own bodies had and both threw themselves into sports. Jacob got into peewee football, and Trevor was the star of his middle school’s football team. By this time, Ashley had outgrown princesses and was gaga about superheroes. And both of her dads were big as the superheroes in her comic books. We still played dress up, but now she was Wonder Woman, I was the Incredible Hulk, and Garrett was Captain America. At the end of February, Garrett and I had almost equal weight. I was tipping the scales at 295, but Garrett was right behind me at 290. Because of my slight height advantage, we actually looked equally buff. Our bodies were so big that even just everyday activities became a fight for space. It took an intricate ballet to help each other into our work clothes, and a similar dance to get out of them at night. Our employees at C&G had actually started up a pool, betting on when Garrett would overtake me. One month later, 11 months after moving in with me, Garrett stood on the scale, and it hit 300 pounds. He was a mass monster. His chest jutted out, his shoulders were so wide he stuck out of the shower in our apartment, and he full-on waddled when he walked, his ass firm and striated. He had maintained a low body fat percentage this whole time, comparable to my own. I got on the scale after him. 298. He outweighed me by two pounds. Every time we hugged or kissed, to the outside world, it was laughable. Our pecs were such obstacles, that we had to turn at odd angles, and even then, they’d mash into each other. Our arms were so swollen with muscle, that we really couldn’t hug each other anymore. One of us would have to sneak behind the other and wrap his arms around the other’s waist. And even then, back muscles and pecs made it difficult. Thankfully, even with his roid gut, our waists were still relatively trim, or we couldn’t even do that. “You did it. You’re bigger than me. So, tonight’s the night?” Cara had the kids, so as soon as we got home, Garrett tore off my clothes, and shoved me to the bed. Between the two of us, we were 600 pounds of meat. He licked his palm, and ran the saliva over his cock. He did this a few times while I looked up, over my own towering pecs, to look at him. I had been on simmer, ready to overboil since Christmas. So, as soon as he shoved himself inside of me, I was almost orgasming. His massive body slammed into mine a few times, and my prostrate was alight with fire. I don’t know how his six inches was making it all the way past my massive ass to my prostrate, but he hit it just right. My cock slapped my abs, a monument to erotic excess. I was so close. After years of waiting. I was so close. I was so close. Garrett let go of my hand. The world made no sense. We were both standing up, in my office at C&G. He looked smaller, diminished. And he had a little flab around his belly. And he was wearing a mint green dress shirt that hadn’t fit him in a year and a half. The same shirt he was wearing the day of our first kiss. I looked down at myself. I looked smaller too. Not as small as Garrett… but maybe… 240 pounds. My cock was painfully erect and leaking into my dress pants. And I was wearing my wedding ring. None of that had happened. It was still April 2nd. Garrett had just shaken my hand because I was going to write him a letter of recommendation. The memory of our year together was beginning to feel nebulous, like a dream made of spiderwebs. “You have a rich interior world,” I said to him. “Pardon?” “Nothing,” I said. I pushed him out of my office and ran to the bathroom. I had two years of sexual frustration to work off. 35 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mdlftr Posted April 6, 2020 Share Posted April 6, 2020 The writing, the Writing, THE WRITING!!! IT'S SOOOO GOOD!! ============================ “Definitely.” He offered me his hand. I shook it. He smiled warmly at me. The first warm smile I’d seen from him ever. I braced for him to tear my clothes off or grab my head in a kiss, but nothing happened. When the shake ended, he left the room. I went back to my desk and sat down a little disappointed that nothing had happened. Not even thirty seconds later, he popped his head back into the room. “Wanna grab some drinks after work?” “Excellent idea,” I said. ================================= Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
britmusclejock Posted April 6, 2020 Share Posted April 6, 2020 Man, I had two years of frustration to work off too after reading those last few chapters! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ToolShedCub Posted April 6, 2020 Share Posted April 6, 2020 oh shit! that was a serious twist! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
citizenies Posted April 6, 2020 Share Posted April 6, 2020 That took me by surprise, everything was done so well ~ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OldFashioned Posted April 7, 2020 Share Posted April 7, 2020 Incredible. I don't remember the last time I've been so riveted by a piece of fiction, erotic or not. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dredlifter Posted April 7, 2020 Share Posted April 7, 2020 Wow that was evil...and so very, very good, lol. One of the best twists I've seen on this site. The whole time I was reading I was thinking, "I can't believe he's wrapping the story up THIS quickly..." And of course you weren't. And worse yet, we should've seen it coming. Excellent work, my friend. Amazingly talented writer. 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozymandias Posted April 7, 2020 Share Posted April 7, 2020 How did Garrett’s vision involve wintergreen? He must know something... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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