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Omg... it's finally finished. It feels like forever and once again it took a turn I was not expecting when I sat down to write it. I decided to conclude it and apologize if it feels a bit rushed I just didn't want it to go incomplete forever. Especially since I've got other ideas that have been spinning around in my head for awhile. It's been hard to find the time to write. Big thank you to everyone who has shown their love to this story. I'm thinking about starting a patreon or something to encourage me to put out more regular stuff. Input on that and if you'd subscribe would be greatly appreciated! Also would love to hear if you liked "If the Shoe Fits". 

Without further ado:

 

 

Chapter 33

Two weeks can sometimes feel like forever. Each day seemed to blend seamlessly one into the next. I’d wake up bright and early every day before stumbling out of bed to take my morning piss. As I watched my golden stream bulldoze its way into the toilet,  I’d remind myself that for reasons I couldn’t quite comprehend, this morning’s piss was the best piss of my life I’d felt outside of drunkenness— even better feeling than the wonderfully relieving whiz I had taken the prior morning.

After that flow eased and slowly but simultaneously suddenly ended, I’d groggily shuffle myself a few steps past the sink, unconsciously avoiding eye contact with myself in the mirror in case I were to catch my  eye and  make myself wonder how the hell anyone, let alone the love of my life, could think I was sexy. Having averted disaster, I would then start up the shower and rinse myself clean.

Feeling more awake, I’d then towel off in front of the mirror, this time openly checking myself out, but not in a sexy way. Rather, I’d run the towel through my hair a few times and think to myself that either my hair looked super cute that day and dammit why would I have to now put on a shirt and ruin it. Or I’d see that my hair really looked like a mess and I’d ask myself where I last put that new hair gel I bought when I got my last haircut, knowing full-well that it was just inside the medicine cabinet where it’s always been kept. Either way, I’d then saunter off to my bedroom to continue getting myself prepped for the day.

Which is where I would find Justin, fully erect and waiting. Every morning. Like clockwork. Usually, he’d be sitting on the edge of my bed, propped up by his left arm, whose hand was absentmindedly gripping some lube. Meanwhile, his right hand would be busy massaging the upper half of his goliath-sized appendage. He’d smirk at me before saying something cheesy like “You know we’ve got orders”, or something similar.

Invariably, my own 8.5 incher would begin to noticeably bone up even before the towel managed to hit the floor. I’d quickly grab the lube, grease up my hole, and straddle my obviously eager training wheel of a housemate.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t pause to yawn before snapping back to the sizable task I gripped with my right hand and slid between my ass cheeks. Usually the moment his cockhead first touched my hole one or both of us would let out an audible intake of air. I’d sink slowly ease myself down onto his massive cockhead, silently thanking the squat rack gods for granting me some added inches to my posterior region the past several months as I worked vigorously to accommodate the nearly overwhelming number of inches slowly and insistently stretching their way into my insides.

It would take a couple of minutes, but eventually I’d be rewarded by the feeling of my wispy little ass-hairs alerting me that I’d reached the base of Justin’s manhood. We’d pause—Give each other a nod—then he’d reach around like he was going to hug me as we flipped me over onto my back. Another moment to make sure everything was feeling good, and he’d begin working my hole over.

Some mornings, early afternoons, evenings, or late nights...he’d be gentle. Other times he’d fuck me so deep and so hard I would wonder if the bed or my ass would break first. Whichever way, he made sure to use my ass thoroughly… and at least three times a day. In the two weeks leading up to Patrick’s return I never went to work without a load in my ass, and I never went to bed without one either. If I could sum it up in one word— intense. After he blew his nut, he’d invariably take a few moments to relish the orgasm before slowly easing himself out of my now gaping orifice. He’d roll over, take a deep breath, then hop up out of bed to go clean up, oftentimes without a word.

Every now and then he’d make a funny little quip, or we’d talk about our plans for the day. Once I caught him staring at me just a little too long—and while I had warmed up to him quite a bit, I know he knew heart belonged first and foremost to Patrick. He never said anything about it, and after a few days he started going out on dates with others in the early evenings after giving me my after-work spunk. It was fairly obvious he was making sure to keep some space between us which I appreciated. Little did I know how much smaller that space would soon be.

Chapter 34

Smaller? Larger? Is up, down now?

The day finally arrived when Patrick was due home. I wanted to meet him at the airport, but I had a semi-important-to-me-but-critical-to-the-company meeting I was needed for. It had been in the works for a while, and Patrick was understanding. Besides, he had an appointment with the doctor for his last shot. We agreed that we would meet at the house in the evening.

Patrick texted me when he got back to the house, telling me he was just going to relax and play some video games until I got home.

Everything was going so well. My pitch had gone over so well. In 45 minutes I’d be back home in Patrick’s loving arms. Then I got the call.

“Hello, Aaron speaking” I voiced to the unknown number. My phone beeped at me that the battery was about dead. Guess I had forgotten to leave it on the charger last night.

“Hello. Yes… Can I speak to Aaron McCormick?” a woman replied.

“This is he”.

“Hello. Yes. Mr. McCormick. I’d like to confirm you’re currently safe and uninjured, correct? Or are you in need of emergency services? Are you at your dwelling at?”  she started to rattle my address, but I cut her off.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” I said excusing myself from the room. “What’s going on? What happened”. My phone beeped.

“Sir, there appears to have been a pipeline explosion in your immediate area and emergency responders are en route to contain the.”

“Wait what?” I shouted. “How did you get my number, why are you calling me to tell me this?” I demanded.


“Sir, please stay calm, emergency responders are taking care of your friend, he was just concerned for your safety given the proxim- “the line went dead as my phone battery gave up it’s last bit of juice.

 

Chapter 35

Throwing my phone into my pocket I ran to the door, grabbing my jacket as I moved. My wild-eyed expression was all the explanation my boss needed as I raced out of the office to my car. I don’t remember the drive home, it’s a miracle I wasn’t pulled over or worse. I do remember seeing and smelling the black acrid smoke coming from my neighborhood as I approached. I remember the hearing the wailing sirens competing with the sounds of roaring flames and seeing the flash of red and blue lights as they fought for visual comprehension with the orange flames consuming what had been the block where my home once stood.

Police had closed the roads a few blocks out. Before they could stop my car and hurried out and towards the ambulances and firetrucks nearest the direction my home had stood until shortly ago. Frantically, I pushed my way past barricades, bystanders, and first responders, desperately scanning the ambulances looking for anything recognizable.

My panic brought the attention of paramedics and firefighters.

It took several of them to restrain me… even then, it wasn’t so much the 4-5 strong men and women who stopped my 6’4” ass, but rather the fact that after having seen the back of each ambulance and not being satisfied I turned my gaze back to the still burning remnants of my exploded house, and saw one of Patrick’s previously oversized shoes on what was our front lawn. The formally white with a black checker Nike Logo runner was now mostly black, and one of the laces was burning, much like the wick of a candle.

I collapsed. First responders quickly brought a facemask and a blanket over to me. They were shouting things. It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.

I don’t know how long I sat there, unmoving. Not allowing myself to be moved. I just stared at that shoe, at my life…Gone. For a moment I imagined I saw Patrick’s smiling face from his birthday a couple years ago when he opened up the new computer monitor I had seen him eyeing for a while. I thought how cute it was watching him with his dorky headphones on as that monitor cast a bluish light on his face as he joked and played with online friends while dreaming of becoming a big muscleman someday. Gone.

I saw a flash of blue light from where our front window used to be. At least I thought I did.

No! I did! There it was again…and there was movement! I threw off my blanket and leapt to my feet. I grabbed the nearest person to me and began dragging them towards the broken bay window shouting, “Here! Over here! Help! Someone help!”

Reaching the window, I pushed through broken glass, through broken memories, through the charred drywall and blackened 2x4’s that used to be my living room. Desperately. In that moment it could have all been a hallucination, but if it were, I was going to make sure that at the end I crawled underneath that house myself so that I could die next to my lover. Nothing else mattered.

I pushed aside some unrecognizable board and finally saw what caused the light I had seen. A cellphone. Screen cracked, but still flickering light occasionally. The glint had been picked up by a piece of broken mirror, and I just been at the right place and time. Just beyond that, a forearm. A massive forearm. Thickly corded with muscle and covered in soot and blood, and it was moving. Reaching towards me…towards anything to grasp.

I rushed over and with the help of first responders began pulling away the debris. I found him. I was ecstatic in that moment because I knew there was no one else it could possibly be. No one had forearms that big.

A few moments later I heard a loud crack and the rubble began to shift and rise. I wasn’t the only one who stumbled a foot or two back. What we witnessed next was incredible.

I stood in the remains of my former bay window as the charred remains of my house fell to the sides of what I at first though must have been my living room couch. Instead, as my mind adjusted to what was happening in front of me, I realized that that wasn’t a couch—that was my husband. Patrick was on his knees, in a plank position holding the weight of the upper floor of my house on his back while he propped himself up on his elbow. His muscles were tensed, which made his soccer ball sized biceps seem all the more impressive. While the back of his shirt was mostly intact, the front was hanging on by a thread, and I was stunned by his rippling six back, and pectorals that made dinner plates seem small in diameter. His jeans were ripped at the knees, and his calves were still covered in rubble, but what I could see of his quads was stunning, it looked like someone had taken a physique anatomy chart and blown up the proportions!

Still, after all of that, all I could truly focus on in that moment were the two piercingly beautiful blue eyes staring back at me. In them I read pain, love, relief, and concern. We held eyes for what seemed like forever, long enough to tell each other everything we ever needed to tell one another, without saying a word. Then with a blink he quickly looked down and back up and me pleadingly.

I followed where his eyes had been. There… underneath it all… cradled between Patrick’s giant pecs and his arm, lay an unconscious Justin. Seeing him snapped me out of my situational paralysis. I rushed forward, startling the paramedics out of their stupor as well. They managed to pull Justin out and took him towards an ambulance. Once Justin was safe, Patrick asked us to stand back.

With a few deep breaths, Patrick managed to push himself up into a pushup up position. Using all of his strength he managed to get himself up into a full plank, and with some effort, was then able to pull first his right, and then his left leg forward. The rubble of the house crashed around him as he then moved himself into a somewhat squat position and pushed himself and what remained around him up until he managed to get himself out from under the house.

 

He then staggered a couple steps towards me before collapsing to his knees. Before he lost consciousness, he looked to me and said.

“I love you”.

Chapter 36

They kept Patrick at the hospital overnight. Besides a few burns and a couple of deep scratches that needed stitching, he was relatively unscathed. Justin had to stay for a few more days, though thankfully he was released as well with a clean bill of health. The doctors and the news hailed Patrick as a hero for saving Justin’s life. They tried roping me in with that too, but I wouldn’t let them. All I did was see a light in some wreckage. Patrick did all the heavy lifting…literally.

With all the excitement, it took a few months for us to really reacclimate. Our insurance guy was amazing, and things worked out better than we could have possibly expected. Patrick’s growth stabilized with him setting a few records, and for that we needed some special accommodations when it came to housing. He ended up topping out at 7’8” … so taller counters and shower heads were a must for starters.

I’m not 7’8”, but I’m a big man, and I can’t fit both of my hands around his biceps. That’s unflexed. When flexed, I think it’d take me four hands. Which is still small compared to the globes he has for butt cheeks. He gets cross with me when I call him Nicki now, but I haven’t found a more entertaining way to tell him that he’s got some serious cakes!

As for the rest of him, well… honestly, I don’t know precisely. I’d have to pull up the Guinness Book of Records. I just know that I love wearing his size 22 shoes when he pins me down to fuck me with his over 12” dick. He knows exactly how big it is, I’ve just asked him to not tell me because it’s a bit intimidating knowing your man is bigger than a ruler and thicker than a wine bottle. He does like to brag about how he’s bigger than Jonah Falcon now though. At first it did cause some difficulties… His dick is just so absolutely enormous! We had a night where I ended up crying, telling him that I thought he said he would never outgrow me. He laughed and said again that he’d never outgrow me… he said it’s just like a new pair of specially tailored shoes. They fit… they just need a bit of love and to be used a bit until they are broken in.

 

 

The End.

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Epilogue:

 

I guess this would be an epilogue, yeah? Or would it be called a sequel? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Aaron’s not even writing this. It’s like when we defeated the big bad last week. Turns out it was just a precursor for the new patch. I’m so excited to see the new content… speaking of which…anyway…

Yeah, anyway I really ought to text Aaron before I post this, but whatever! Fuck it! He’s already shared everything else with everyone, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I were to throw out a few more little tidbits.

Like about last night when we got home. Thank God for taller counters. J and my hunbun got me fucking trashed while we were out at the clubs and I’m pretty sure somebody there slipped me something or other at some point. I don’t know what it was exactly, but wow. One moment I was dancing next to Aaron while this little twink who used to be my size ( or rather I guess I used to be his size) felt up my arms and chest, and the next I was adjusting my big mans ass on the counter so that I could fit the head of my cock into his tiny little butthole without having to do some awkward-ass squats with him bent over the couch or up on his tippy toes. He’s six foot four so guess I shouldn’t call him tiny, right?

Anyhow, so we are breaking in the counter in our new and much bigger home—which I give thanks for  to our insurance agent and the good doctor, who gave us a bit of a grant here and there and also set me up with a few ongoing endorsements that are going to keep me busy especially now that I’ve been promoted….

I’m rambling again, sorry. Yeah, so anyway, I’m pounding Aaron’s ass on our new kitchen island counter, when Justin stumbles in with that twink from the shoe store. Turns out he’s the same twink that had been feeling me up at the nightclub only an hour or two ago.

 I caught his glassy does eyes staring at me for a moment, which allowed me to understand that he was perceiving that he was living inside his muscle and cock fantasy heaven as he tried to burn the image of all my masculinity currently on display into his tiny little muscle bible of a brain so that he could beat off to the mental image for next several months to come. I smiled as I knew that look all too well, as Justin continued to drunkenly escort the young man towards his room and out of my sight.

“Those two were in for a fun night, I hope that little twink can handle twelve” I thought to myself momentarily. Also, I remember thinking that the light scarring on the left side of Justin’s face and hand was perhaps more than a little bit sexy.

Once they were out of my vision, I refocused on what was my sole mission… pleasing my twink husband. Though I admit, to anyone else, Aaron’s build would be considered more of a tall baseball player build… possibly even more of a football player build. I don’t play sports. Pick one. Though maybe I should now?

 I shuddered as I thought to myself that if I was here thinking he was twink-like….what the hell would I have thought of myself from this new perspective, given that up until recently I was built much like the tiny twink who was probably just getting lubed up in preparation to be impaled by Justin’s huge dick!

I hope I’m the kind of guy who would see that look of absolute awe…and wonder…and amazement.. submission…worship…desire….  And allow the littler guy to revel in the literal manifestation of his deepest held fantasy.

But what’s left of a fantasy realized, I asked myself as I fought back the urge to flood my partner with what was promising to be an insane amount of cum. Looking at Aaron’s face, it looked like he was living a fantasy, and coming up with new ones, all in the same moment. All while experiencing both an incredible amount of pain, and an equal amount of pleasure. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to push me out of him with all of his might, or if he was trying desperately to relax more to allow me in even deeper. Not that I could go deeper. I mean, there is a line somewhere around 14 inches right?

His eyes reminded me of one of my video games. The one with the Greek gods whose eyes are filled with just white light because they have no pupils. His head was stiff and thrown back as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. I would have asked him if he could breath if he was not staggeringly begging for me to cum each time my enormous ballsack left contact with his bare ass.

I held him onto me with my left hand on his shoulder, my right hand gripping his left thigh. His legs would have moved more if he was flexible enough to have moved them past my legs and biceps. The latter of which were bigger than his own thighs.

“Fu..ck…me...Pat…rick”, he managed to gasp between thrusts.

“I am”, I grinned back at him. He used his hands to feel up by biceps. Then he rolled his hands around to grip the horseshoes that were my triceps, before balling up his fist and lightly punching my chest. I say lightly, but if it were that twink that was currently riding Justin’s dick that had taken those punches I’m sure it would knock him on his ass.

I reached both arms around his neck and lifted him up from the kitchen counter. He used his legs to push himself up off of my torso so he could continue to ride my cock as I relocated us to our bedroom.

Unfortunately, I had to allow him to extricate himself from my dick because we had left the lube in the kitchen. He ran back to get it while I got myself a glass of water from the bathroom. We reentered the bedroom at the same time and as he began pouring some more lube onto my erect dick, he looked up at me wild-eyed and grinning.

“I’m still trying to get used to this.” He laughed.

“What do you mean? You’re taking this dick like you’re a level 20 revenge paladin” I joked back. He raised an eyebrow at me, slightly confused.

“I don’t know what that means, but I was talking about your height.”

I spun him around and entered him doggy style on the bed. As I rutted my lover I heard the muffled shouts of Justin’s partner-for-the-night as he reached his orgasm.

“Oh great! Your turn” I said and began pounding Aaron in earnest.

Aaron took in a couple deep breaths and then let out a long, grunting sigh as he blew his load onto our comforter. I quickly scooped up what was left of his load and used it as lube on my own dick. With a couple of grunts myself I let the floodgates loose inside of my lover. I allowed myself to cum until Aaron’s face showed me the beginnings of discomfort. Then I began pulling out slowly, filling up the space left behind with my creamy white spunk. I pinched the base of my dick as an audible pop was heard as my cockhead left my partners bum. He took his hand and quickly covered his exposed hole while rushing to the bathroom.

I followed at a slightly slower pace. While he used the toilet to relieve himself of the gallon of jizz I had pushed up inside him, I gave the rest of my load to the shower drain. Aaron joined me a few minutes later. Thank God for double headed showers. Before washing my back, he got on his knees and sucked out the last few dollups of jism from my now flaccid beast.

Somehow, between all the stumbling, and smiles, and kisses, we managed to get clean and dried off before climbing into bed. We cuddled for a bit, before I got up to turn off the lights. I blinking light got my attention at my computer. It was one of my friends asking me about our raid schedule. I replied that I’d be on tomorrow after I worked out and then closed the window.

Which is when I saw this story that Aaron had been writing. “If the Shoe Fits”. So cute. As I look over at him now, he’s fallen asleep already. Chest rising and falling slowly while one of his hands is reached out towards my side of the bed, waiting for me to join him. He looks like a muscular angel in slight need of a shave, since it’s been about a day.

I’m about to join him, I’m sure that as soon as he feels me coming into the bed he’ll roll over so that he can be the little spoon tonight. He likes being little spoon mostly nowadays. He likes how we just seem to just fit together just right that way. He’ll find out when he reads this that in the morning I’d like him to make me breakfast in bed. Waffles this time. But I also want him to first wake me up by eating my ass and then trying to see how much of him he can get in me before I start to stir. I’ve got a raid at 9:30, waffle mix is in the lower left cupboard next to the flour.

I figure this is a fitting place to end this (get it? Fitting? I crack myself up!)

I love you, babe!

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