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Contract Law (Complete Story 5/4/20; Bonus Material Added 5/15/20)


TQuintA

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Amazing, instant classic.

Even if it doesn't continue (which I hope it finishes with a huge explosion of muscle with big bear oz) Its perfect.

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2 hours ago, TQuintA said:

 

            “And I didn’t cheat on you.  I chose you.  If I wanted someone else, I’d have him by now.  Oz, if I didn’t want you, I could’ve left you before I became the god of muscle and sex.”  I leaned in so I was making skin to skin contact with Oz.  “I want you.  When we fuck, you’ll still be you.  The man I love.  The man I married 15 years ago.  You’ll just be a bigger version of him.”  I kissed him on the forehead.  “But if you’re scared, we’ll wait until you’re ready.”

    

 

This was so freaking sweet. Their love it's for the ages.

If this is teh end then it's the eprfect oen for this story. Beautiful, sweet and incredibly hot.

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I loved every bit of this story. If you have other stories you plan on writing or that you’ve written across the web, I’d be interested to read them. Big big love for sharing this amazing piece of art and erotica with us!

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Chapter 46

            I was so raring to go that I had almost forgotten to get Oz good and ready.  Now that everything was full steam ahead again, I began by working my index finger into Oz’s hole.

            “Damn,” he said.  “Even that’s bigger.”

            “Everything’s bigger,” I reminded him.

            After years of practice, one finger was nothing for Oz, so I moved up to two, and then three.  Oz squirmed pleasantly as he waited for the main event.

            By the time I had all five fingers in, Oz was glowing with heat and sweat.

            “Let’s do this,” he said, giving me the go ahead.

            I placed the well-lubricated, pre-soaked tip of my cock at the edge of his hole and just held it there for a second.  The warmth was pleasant and welcoming, like I was coming home after a long time away, and not the other way around.

            Bracing myself with my left hand, I guided my cock in with my right.  I’d fucked Oz a thousand times before, but with my growth, the choreography was all different, and he was now impossibly tight.  It felt like I was fucking him for the first time.

            When the head of my cock got through Oz’s sphincter, he audibly gasped.

            “You are officially the thickest thing I have ever taken.”

            “You’re welcome,” I said.

            Slowly, I pushed myself in a little bit at a time.  The sensation was intoxicating, but I had been waiting for this too long to make it a rush job.  Both of my hands were free now, so I held his shoulders and kissed his face, neck, and chest.  It felt so good to have Oz in my arms again.  I wanted this to last forever.  By the time I was about a third of the way in, Oz began quivering and shaking; I had given his prostrate a lot of stimulation.  The stream of cum that came out of the end of his cock confirmed my suspicion.

            “We still good?” I asked

            “Have you cum yet?” he asked in turn, panting ever so slightly.

            “You’ll know when I have.”

            “Then we’re still good,” he said.

            I worked my cock in further and further, pulling it out a little bit, then pushing it almost imperceptibly further in.  I moved my hands behind his head and lifted him up to me.  Feeling our chests press against each other, our beards collide, our tongues reunite after months apart—I was in heaven.  My cock sang in growing expectation.  Oz pulled his mouth away from mine to kiss my biceps, alternating between left and right, slowly crossing the continent of my chest, intermittently kissing me sweetly on the lips.

            After ten minutes of this, I couldn’t get any further into Oz.  I was as deep as I could go.  I could tell I wasn’t all the way in, but since I couldn’t see down past my pecs, I had no way of knowing how far in I’d gotten.

            “How much of me is out?” I asked him.

            Oz reached his hand down and felt my shaft.  “Three inches, about,” he said.  “It’s so thick.”  Oz almost seemed disappointed.  “We were so close.”

            “We’ll get there,” I assured him.  “Eventually.”

            Now that I knew where to draw the line, I began to pick up speed.  Laying Oz back down on the bed, I held the headboard and began thrusting in and out, in and out, faster and faster.

            “I’ve needed this,” Oz said between grunts.  “I’ve so desperately needed this.”

            I wanted to tell him I loved him and missed him and had been waiting for this for half a year, but I had moved past the ability to speak.  I had become my cock, thrusting in and out, dedicated only the feeling of friction and electricity.

            In the moment, it felt like time had ceased to have any meaning.  It was instantaneous and eternal.  No time at all passed; galaxies were born and died.  The universe had collapsed into just Oz and me as I rejoined.

            Suddenly, the dam broke.  I stared deeply into Oz’s eyes as I reached climax.

            Over the past two weeks, I’d had dozens of orgasms, but they all paled in comparison to this one.  Disembodied, amorphous colors floated in front of my eyes.  My brain exploded in fireworks.  My muscles tensed into a rictus of sheer passion.  My feet dug into the mattress.  I nearly tore the headboard off the bed, the wood splintering in my fingers.  The room reverberated with the grunts, moans, and bellows that escaped my resonant chest.

            I came.

            With such pressure and force, most of it sprayed back out of Oz and onto the bed.  A fountain, a waterfall, a torrent of cum escaped me.  I could feel my balls draw up and empty, I could feel the force of the cum as it pushed through all 15 inches of my cock and out my cock head.  As I came, and came, and came, it felt like I might never stop.

            But finally, at last, I did.  I collapsed next to Oz, my bulging arm cradling him, as the last few spurts trickled out of my cock.

            I was sated.

            I cannot explain the amount of contentment and peace that I felt.  This one orgasm dropped my libido from a 20 back down to a 5 or a 6 where it belonged.  For the first time in weeks, I felt like myself, fully in control of my faculties.

            I pulled my cock out of Oz, and spooned him.  He wriggled pleasantly until he found a more comfortable position, and we just lay there like that for a while, entwined in each other’s arms.  We didn’t care that the bed was a mess.  We didn’t care about anything.  We just wanted continuous physical contact with each other.  I’d occasionally kiss his shoulder.  He’d occasionally kiss my hands and forearms.

            Again, I could have stayed that way forever, but then my stomach growled.

            “I guess we should go have that pot roast,” I said.

            We got up, and without getting dressed we headed to the kitchen.  Oz laughed when he saw how I had to contort to get through the bedroom door.

            “Yeah, we’re getting you some new doors,” he said.

            “We should wait until you change,” I reminded him.  “You might need bigger doorways than me.”

            As Oz grabbed the dishes and silverware, he looked down at himself.  “Why haven’t I changed yet?” he asked.

            “I have no idea.”  I grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet and picked up the slow cooker at the same time.

            “You can handle that thing one-handed?” Oz said.

            “A trick I learned earlier today.”

            We sat down to a pleasant dinner.  Oz told me all about his stay in Germany.  I told Oz about how Mo and I figured out who had put the spell on me.

            “How did you learn about magic?” I asked.

            “Sinclair,” he answered flatly.

            “Your ex?”

            “He’d paid to have a spell cast on his restaurant, make it successful.”

            “People do that?”

            Oz shrugged.  “More people would if they knew magic existed.  And could afford it.  Technically, though, Sinclair had the first dollar he ever made at the restaurant enchanted.  He framed it and hung it over the register.”

            “I thought people did that because it was good luck,” I said.

            “Most people do.  Sinclair’s is magical.”  Oz took another bite.  “This is incredible, Ian.  You outdid yourself.”

            We finished dinner, and were about to retire to the living room, when we decided to clean up the bed now rather than put it off anymore.  While Oz got the spare sheets and blankets, I stripped the bed.  As I feared, there was an unalterable wet spot in the mattress where I came.  I flipped the mattress, figuring we’d deal with it tomorrow.  To my horror, the wet spot—though a much smaller version of it—persisted to the other side.

            “We’re going to need a new mattress after all,” I called to Oz.  I waddled over to the dirty clothes hamper and felt my balls smack against my leg.  “And maybe some rubber sheets,” I added.

            Oz came into the bedroom with the new sheets and threw them at me.  “Sound investment,” he said.

            “But so unsexy,” I added.

            “You don’t think it’s sexy that you’re so virile, so bursting with cum, that we have to buy special items to protect our furniture from your manliness?”

            “When you put it that way,” I said.

            I put the sheets on the bed, and Oz fetched his luggage from the living room.  “Might as well bring these in here,” he said, leaving them near the closet.

            The bed fully made, I hopped into it, and patted my massive, furry pec, inviting Oz to put his head on it.

            Oz came into bed with me, and rested his head on my pillow of a pec.  I wrapped my left arm around him and put my right arm behind my head.  I loved the feeling of my bicep pressing into my face.

            “A man could get used to this,” he said.

            I hummed an assent, and Oz chuckled.  “What?” I asked.

            “Just keep talking,” Oz said.  “Your chest vibrates when you talk.  It’s like having one of those Magic Fingers beds.”

            I impersonated the mechanical vibrating noise those coin-operated monstrosities made, and Oz pealed with laughter.  After I stopped, I kissed the back of Oz’s head and said, “Any time, Oz.  Any time.”

            While I lazily stroked Oz’s chest with my hand, he said to me again, “Why haven’t I changed?”

            “Haven’t the foggiest,” I said.

            “That’s not true.  I heard all the research you put into this.  You have to have some sort of idea.”

            “Fine,” I admitted.  “I have three.”

            “Let’s hear ‘em.”

            “Number one, the least likely.  Something went wrong with the spell, and you’re not going to change.”

            “Yeah.  Vinnie even hired the same caster as me, so I don’t think that’s likely.”

            “Number two.  My subconscious thinks you’re as hot as you can possibly be, so you’re not going to change.”

            “I like that one.  It inflates my ego.”

            “Yeah, but, I doubt it’s likely.  These past two weeks, I learned that my subconscious is surprisingly shallow.”

            “Don’t do yourself a disservice.  Everyone’s is.”

            “Believe me, I know.”

            “And number three?” Oz asked.

            “Number three.  There is some other catalyst that will start your change.”

            “Such as?”

            “That’s where number three falls apart,” I said, leaning into the top of Oz’s head.  “I have absolutely no idea.”

            Oz’s phone rang from across the room.

            “Ignore it,” I pleaded.  “Stay in bed with me.”

            “It might be Germany,” Oz said.

            “Why do you think I said ignore it?”

            Oz patted my arm, asking to be let up.

            “I could hold you here forever, you know,” I said.

            “Yes, but…” Oz grabbed my cock with his right hand and squeeze, “I know your Kryptonite.”

            I let Oz go, and he scurried to get his phone.

            “It’s from Vinnie,” he said.  “It’s a happy birthday text.”

            “Sweet.  But odd,” I replied.  “He saw you like twenty minutes ago.

            “More like four hours.  It’s almost midnight.”  Oz shook his head.  “It ends by saying, ‘I hoped you filmed it.’  Why would Vinnie want me to film us?”

            “No way,” I said.  I hopped out of bed and grabbed my laptop.  I put it where I’d placed it earlier and started filming Oz.

            Oz covered his cock with both hands and said, “What are you doing?”

            “I just figured out the catalyst,” I cried, hopping back into bed.

            “What is it?” Oz said, putting his phone on his nightstand.

            “It’s almost midnight.  Happy birthday.”

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