muscle-growth Naked (Part One)

[Hanugumo]

Man, the previous chapters made it seem like he was somewhere more around the 600lbs or so. But now we come to know that he wasn't even 300lbs. I do wonder how much he grew at the end of this latest chapter. x3 lol

[ThePecman]

Well, I'm exhausted.

[Guest]

That was fun.

[Muscleace]

Do you not have your message box on, not see it, or do you just rudely ignore when people send you messages? I'd like to know.

Or he could you know... have a life outside the forums and be busy with it not to immediately answer your messages. 

[ryamkajr]

Holy crap. Do you have to quote the entire damn story?

[AKA]

NAKED

 

Part Five

 

 

 

 

In retrospect, Lance’s unusual wardrobe decision - or more accurately the decided lack thereof - proved providential and advantageous. Sure, you can go online and find clothes to fit even the largest male frame, and there are specialty stores for the “big & tall” that accommodate those of either stature, or both.

Lance was now in a rather extraordinary league of his own, and even if he were not averse to the wearing of clothes, anything he could possibly squeeze his body’s dimensions into would do very little to hide its new and rather outrageous contours.

Everything was bigger, and I do mean everything. As he had lain there on that weight bench with my dick pumping inside his ass, I watched his body swelling beyond even what I could have imagined possible.

The muscle swelled as if it were being inflated, and maybe they were and I was the one accomplishing the inflating. As much as Lance insisted that he wasn’t doing anything and all his unusual muscular development was my achievement, I couldn’t help but wonder why I had never had an effect like this - nor had anyone else as far as I knew - before meeting him.

The sensation of pumping a near-constant and seemingly unlimited stream of cum inside him had been accompanied by an equally powerful orgasmic eruption that shook me to the core of my being. It was like…well, I don’t even know what it was fucking like! You know how it feels when you finally reach that peak of sexual fulfillment and part of your soul takes hold of your cock when you cum, and your body gets hot and cold and your breath catches and your toes curl and you think you might die but you don’t?

That sensation - unless, I guess, you’re Sting - lasts between 5 and 20 seconds for the average American male. I wasn’t timing it as I stood there with my dick lodged inside Lance’s tight hole and his muscles were swelling and his own cock stretched and thickened into a tool of magnificence, but I would guess I probably experienced a 60 or 90 second orgasmic explosion during which my dick felt like it was streaming unending ropes of cream. Just pause and look at your watch and see how long a minute and a half orgasm actually lasts, and imagine yourself pumping a stream of cum the whole time.

 

It was...intense. To say the least.

My balls physically hurt afterwards, as you would imagine, and I was pretty certain I’d never manage to cum again.

I looked up that average orgasm length afterwards on Google, as well as the amount of sperm a guy like me should expect to be spurting from his little man, and that amount is one teaspoon.

One. Little. Teaspoon.

Dudes, I know when you blow your load you imagine that you’re flinging a metric fuck-ton of your baby-jam all over your partner of choice, but it’s about the same amount of sugar you probably put in your morning cup o’ joe.

How many teaspoons was I capable of producing, now? And how was that possible without me blowing a fucking gasket or something? Where was it all coming (heh) from?

Lance swelled with power after his world-record-breaking weightlifting success that only he and I would ever know happened. He was breathing hard, his skin flushed red, his muscles bulging and throbbing, fat veins of blood traversing his brawn, and I ran my hands along his legs and felt them swelling, too. He was gulping air into his lungs and his arms were out to the sides of his body as it continued to grow larger and larger.

I felt my unbelievable orgasmic explosion finally subsiding and I pulled myself free of the vice of his ass. He seemed unwilling to let me go, squeezing against my departure like a greedy child who wanted more candy, but I was out of juice and my balls hurt and my dick felt like it was on fucking fire.

I had to actually step back away from his hot, swollen body to manage myself from his butt. My dick was red and shiny with juice and covered in a thick network of veins. I moved my hands onto my cock, surrounding my meat in my grip and struggled against Lance’s desire to hold me inside him, physically pulling myself loose of him. I managed at last to withdraw my throbbing meat from his unyielding ass and was again awestruck by what had happened.

I was fucking humungous! My dick was…outrageous! As thick as my wrist and inches longer than it had been only minutes ago! It was standing straight out from my body and visibly throbbing with the beats of my heart. It felt now like it weighed about eighty pounds and as its weight was no longer supported inside Lance’s velvet vice, it sank quickly as it deflated and I watched the surface growing smoother and the head begin to dangle towards the floor.

Spunk was fucking everywhere. I’d need three or four more towels just to wipe up all the excess!

He groaned and it sent a shiver through me and, incredibly, made my dick throb and tingle with renewed lust. There was just no possible way I had a drop of cum left to give him, but my dick seemed to have other ideas.

I looked at him lying on the bench and he looked groggy or dazed. And why shouldn’t he be? It looked like he had just packed on a couple dozen extra pounds of muscle in the space of a few minutes! If I thought he looked big before, now he looked crazy huge! Mr. Olympia sized.

“Fuck,” he said with a low moan. It sounded like an order for sex and my cock started tingling again.

“You can say that again,” I replied. My dick was rapidly shrinking from its gargantuan extents and thankfully it looked like I was a grower not a shower. I mean, fuck yeah, I was a shower with a 7- or 8-inch monster, but at least I wasn’t going to have to haul around that crazy monstrosity in my jeans. It was drooling the remnants of my load, probably just shoving out whatever was left in its fat shank when it shrank.

“Did you get the number of that truck that hit me?” he asked, grinning that fucking beautiful grin of his. He looked like Samson or Hercules lying there, and his own fat prick was now as limp as mine, but his looked like it was determined to retain its new growth. It was a gorgeous fat length or perfect male sex, and I wanted very badly to lick it clean with my tongue.

He sat up and looked down at his bigger chest, moving his hand up to run his touch across the rippled surface of the globes mounted there. He fingers dug into the thick carpet of his furry chest and smeared his cum all over like lacquer. “Jesus, Dave,” he said. “What did you do to me?”

“I… You… Made you bigger, obviously.”

Lance looked up at me smiling, easing my trepidation. “Obviously.” He moved his hand off his chest to his opposite arm and tensed his bigger biceps into full-blown power. It was mind-bending, how big his arms were now. Bigger than any I’d ever seen. He was painting a gleaming trail of cum across his swollen muscles. It was fucking sexy as fuck. “Damn,” he said.

“You feel okay?”

He moved his legs off the bench and stood up. And then kept standing up. His body seemed to be…adjusting to its new larger extents. The veins were being subsumed by the intense cuts and striations of muscle everywhere, and his skin was glowing and sleek. He had initially looked absurdly vascular and his skin was almost non-existent, as if he were an anatomy chart of male muscle. But now he was exhibiting his more usual…physical beauty.

But he was indeed - and undeniably - bigger everywhere. “Damn,” he said again, looking down at me. “Come ‘ere.”

“Over there?” He nodded. “Where you are?”

“Right here.” He pointed to the floor at his feet.

I walked towards him, feeling the intense heat from his newly-developed body growing stronger with every step. He was nothing but a wall of muscle, a mountain of it, bulging out thickly from every inch of him. No one ever looked that big. I didn’t think anyone ever could.

But it looked…right. That was all I could think of looking at Lance. He didn’t look weird or outsized or dangerous. He looked…perfect.

I stood next to him and placed my hands against his chest. He closed his eyes as I touched him and groaned again, making my dick start to plump. I rubbed my thumbs against his fat nipples and he sucked in a sudden, harsh breath. “Feels nice,” he said.

“I can tell,” I replied, because I could. His fat dick was already swelling as I played with his sensitive rubbery nubs and ran the edges of my thumbnails over his tits. They were as large as the last knuckle my pinkie finger and growing hard as I entertained my desires.

He opened his eyes and licked his lips and bent his head down to mine, several inches below, and pressed his warm mouth to mine. The kiss was almost chaste, compared with how he usually attacked me, tender and loving, and he said, quietly, “thank you,” before kissing my lips again.

He was hot and he was hard, and, yes, that refers also to his dick and his libido, but as he pressed himself towards me and I felt his naked form against my much smaller body, heat was still emanating from him like some human oven, and his muscles were not only large, they were firm and nearly unyielding.

I tried to move my arms around his larger bulk and he moaned with desire, wrapping his own strong arms around me as well and squeezing me.

It was like being surrounded by velvet-covered rocks that moved. And he smelled so fucking good.

I could feel my dick throbbing and my balls tingling and my own desire climbing like a thermometer at the equator. Before things got too heated - again - i pulled my mouth from his (reluctantly) and told him, “Dudes are gonna start showing up to use the gym and I made kind of a mess.”

He turned his handsome head on his thick and muscular neck and looked down at the cold puddles of cum on the floor. “Oh,” he said, “yeah.”

“Probably should clean that up.”

He looked back at me. “Probably.”

“I’m not sure you should help me, though. I mean, every time you get some of me on you….”

“Not every time,” he said, rolling his eyes for added sarcastic effect.

I pushed myself from his embrace with some difficulty and regarded his new dimensions, raising a doubtful eyebrow regarding his protest. I looked him up and down, from the top of his shaggy mane of luscious curls across the impressive and vast mountains and valleys of brawn bulging on his torso to the fatter, longer shank of sex jutting from his groin to the, Jesus, size 14 feet at the other end of his body. “No,” I agreed, “not every time.”

He was smiling his beautiful smile again and shrugged his cantaloupe-sized delts. “Maybe you’re right.”

I pushed at his massive (and unyielding) chest and said, “I’ll see you back in the dorms. Can you just…put all the weights back? I kind of think someone walking in and seeing that,” I said, nodding towards the bar groaning with over 1,000 pounds of steel mounted on it, “might start asking questions.”

“Plus,” he said, “it’s just polite.”

“What?”

“Putting your stuff away when you’re done with it.”

For a constantly-naked, absurdly handsome, incredibly capable superman with a 10-inch prick, Lance was the very model of courteousness.




Of course everyone noticed that Lance was…incredibly large, suddenly. I could see it written on faces and reflected in saucer-sized eyes and dropped jaws. He would enter a room and all talking would cease and every eye turned towards this handsome naked colossus, well over six feet high and bulging with more muscle than your average comic book superhero. I’m pretty sure that more than one dick immediately inflated to full erection and started splooging and all the girls were sopping wet. My own dick was in overdrive even more than usual around him, and all he had to do was wink at me and I was fountaining ropes of hot cream.

Curiously, no one said anything to me or asked anything of him. He continued to attend classes, now barely fitting his broad, heavy, muscular bulk into the chairs. His cock and balls were monstrous and seemed to be chubbed into a constant state of near-arousal, and somehow he was looking even more handsome with that thick beard and those chiseled features and piercing sea-colored gaze.

Maybe it was like Harry Potter and they were all Muggles and Lance and I were magic-users. Muggles saw magic all the time in those books, but simply elected to ignore it.

Lance was overtly and observably magic, growing bigger, more powerful, and more beautiful almost on a daily basis, while I was packing sexual equipment so conspicuous and pornographic it defied explanation and I could cum almost constantly when we were together.

He decided we should take it easy for a while and I agreed with some reluctance. That meant that he could fuck me, but I couldn’t fuck him, and I could (attempt to) suck his prick but he shouldn’t suck mine. I was still cumming uncontrollably like a fountain but Lance wasn’t taking it inside his body, and I know I enjoyed the sensation of his massive meat shoving inside my little butt with something akin to insane bliss.

His cock was…well, it was its own kind of magic. Not as huge as mine (not that we took the time to measure when we could be fucking instead, but we did enjoy rubbing up against each other and I was obviously the larger of us at least in that one department) but thick and hot and the man had some butt muscles that could ram that thing home like a machine, and all I ever wanted was more.

So I’m a bossy bottom. Sue me.

He also seemed to curtail his other trysts, though I never asked that of him. Maybe he used to have sex with others because he worried about wearing me out, because the dude was constantly horned up. Luckily for him - and for me - my own libido had inflated to match his, and I was starting to wonder if I should join my boyfriend in his naked lifestyle just to relieve the painful pressure of trying to keep my massive meat cooped up when it was throbbing and bulging whenever I looked at him, or even thought about him.

And how was I supposed to stop thinking about a nearly seven-foot-tall mountain of naked muscle who wanted nothing more than to be having sex with me at all hours of the day and night? It was like having a plate of chocolate in front of you and told not to taste it.

Don’t get me wrong, we were getting our eight hours of shut-eye in, but from the minute we got back together in our room until one or the other of us suggested that it was time to retire to separate beds, i was sucking him or he was fucking me. I mean, it was almost literally non-stop, and if you think that kind of activity would get dull when you’re doing it every day for hours, let me tell that it’s anything but dull when your cock can constantly cum and your boyfriend has the energy, fortitude, and staying power of a rutting rhino.




We also talked, because as much as Lance loved sex, he also loved to just cuddle. And for those of you who hear the word cuddle and sneer, might I suggest you try cuddling with a musclebound stallion with the face of an angel and the capabilities of an expert sensualist? When Lance was kissing you, and stroking you, with his soft warm lips pressed to yours and his talented hands caressing every inch of your naked body, you’re going to change your opinion concerning "just cuddling" and fast!

For Lance - and for me under his tutelage and careful instruction - making love was exactly that. I felt like I was the most important person in the entire world to him. He made me feel safe and happy and content, and when we were into heavier activities he made me feel excited and thrilled and energized. He read me like some erotic book, and there were many, many more pages than I ever realized.

There was only one problem, though, and I tried not to let on how much my balls ached. It seemed like no matter how much I beat off in the shower or stroked a heavy load into the sink or the toilet or sucked myself dry (it’s amazing what you can accomplish when you own a foot-long cock and have some time to yourself) I could never fully relieve myself of the magic elixir that was turning my boyfriend into Superman.




Allow me to pause here for a moment and say a word about sucking your own dick. Now, I understand that for some men, this is the Nirvana of masturbatory pleasure. You imagine, as I did, that if stroking your stiffy with a palm full of spit, luxuriating in the sensations a hard cock can deliver, and obviously since you’re jerking your own meat you know exactly what feels good, then pulling your own cock inside your own mouth must be just the perfect expression of self-loving.

Those of you who, like me, have been able to accomplish this goal may attest the same realization that I had, which is to say that no matter how much you want to suck your own dick, that activity cannot possibly match the sensation of having an expert and enthusiastic cocksucker attending to your little guy.

Lance, it probably goes without saying, is both an expert and an enthusiast when it came to sucking me off. Even that first day when he went down on me, literally, almost without preamble and applied his ample talents to my joint, I knew that here was a man who fucking loved sucking cock.

You can tell when someone loves it from the sounds they make, those pauses when they pull their mouth off your meat, gasping and licking their lips, gazing with reverence and hunger at your dick like it was the last meal they’re ever going to get.

And it’s not just the mouth action, right? It’s tongue and hands and fingers and occasional teeth all working in some magical combination that you, yourself, cannot hope to match.

When I started trying to pull my cockhead to my lips, it was more athletic event than sexual escapade. It was a physical trial of sorts, easing my long, fat dick nearer and nearer towards my face. And I needn’t remind you that my cock presents an additional challenge at it throbs there above your face due to my overabundant supply of sexual fluid that become more copious the more excited I become.

So as I neared my goal, my excitement in attaining the taste of my own cock on my own tongue - the “winning” of that goal as well as the sexual anticipation - made me spurt and drool from the mouth of my monster with growing volume, and try as I might to capture my own spurts and flows in my mouth, more often than not as I spasmed and jerked in that weird doubled-over position, I was cumming in my eyes or up my nose or drooling a steady stream of pre all over my face like warm honey.

Some guys like that. I’ve been with a few, edging myself to the point of wild insanity before pointing my throbbing meat at a guy’s joy-filled expression of anticipation and shoving my hot load all over him, but it’s not my personal cup of tea. Also, have you ever had cum up your nose? Fun, it is not.

When at last I mastered this talent and could, with relative ease, throw my legs over my head and point my cock unerringly at my open mouth and push myself inside myself, I then had to either pump my legs to fuck my mouth or jerk my head up and down to perform self-fellatio and neither of those activities, my friend, is very comfortable or gratifying.

No, I advise you to go out and find or hire someone who is not only good at sucking a cock, but enjoys it with the gusto and fervor of a dog with his last, you should excuse the expression, bone.

Of the many sexual activities that Lance and I enjoyed together, I may have missed the overwhelming joy of his mouth around my spurting cock more than I was willing to admit.

The dude could really, really suck dick.

He was often so engaged in this singular pursuit that I might wonder if he realized that my cock was attached to a person. But them he would swallow me and suck me and raise his sea-colored eyes to mine and I could see in them the absolute worship the dude had for my cock and the absolutely love he had for me, too. And then I’d find myself exploding even harder down his throat, gasping for air from the onslaught of absolute pleasure.




So obviously, after some weeks of our mutually-agreed-upon sexual limitations had passed, I was feeling a bit…antsy.

I was lounging in his arms, my ass throbbing after a particularly athletic fuck-fest, my constantly-drooling dick still drooling warm cream on my belly as I made leisurely little circles in the pool of cum, and I asked him, “How big do you think you’ll get?”

He made his meat bulge against me, a hard hot fat length of cock inflating and pressing into my back reminding me of the size of him (as if I needed that), “Did I hurt you?”

“You never hurt me, or you hurt me the way I like being hurt,” I responded. I gathered some cum on my fingers and sucked it inside my mouth. I made so much of it that I was accustomed to doing this frequently, just to keep it from being everywhere. I probably swallowed more of my cum than Lance did by this point, and I loved the taste of it - and his as well. My sucking sounds made him groan longingly and his heavy muscular arms squeezed me slightly. “No, I mean, this.” I lifted my head and butted against his pectoral globe, indicating his muscular bulk.

He flexed his chest into hard power and lifted my head with the solid globe of hard meat. “How big do you want me to get?”

The question sent chills through me. I felt a thrill of excitement, like the thrill I had experienced watching him that morning in the gym. Watching him grow - and knowing that I was the one causing it to happen - there was almost nothing more exciting than that! Plugging my cock into his ass and opening my spigot fully and just…letting myself go, pumping everything I could inside him and pushing his muscles beyond human capacity….

I mean, fuuuuuuuck. My cock jerked and a heavy stream of cum shot out, splattering against my chest and neck. My whole cock sent hard shocks of sexual bliss through my body just imagining those moments.

“I see,” he said, chuckling softly.

I turned over on his body to face him. He was a pile of boulders I was climbing across, and I rubbed my spurting cock against his, slowly grinding my hips against him. I was lubing the space between our skin with ropes of warm cream. “I want you as big as you want to become. As powerful, as beautiful, as muscular as you can dream of being. That morning, when you…when I was watching you growing, cumming inside you, fucking you as you swelled bigger and bigger. I…I never felt anything like that.”

“So I’m not too big?”

I kissed his mouth and spurted fat fountains of cum from my massive cock. “You will never be too big for me.”

He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed each other for a long time. “You wanna fuck me?” he asked at last.

It felt like my dick exploded.

He kissed me again and pushed my body off his. Strings of warm cum connected our naked forms together and I was pumping fat fountains all over his muscles before he physically lifted me up and surrounded my spurting cock head with his mouth.

I had forgotten what the sensation of Lance sucking my prick was like, the intensity of his desire and the overwhelming nature of his need. I felt immediately fulfilled and finally complete as we connected again. He swallowed my entire cock down his throat, surrounding my hot meat with slick warmth and constricted against me, like his throat was his ass and I was fucking him.

I gasped and swooned and started really pumping then! Not the dribbles and spurts of cum I had become accustomed to but really letting my engines rev into the red and gushing with the throttle wide open.

I put my hands on his wide, bulging shoulders to balance myself against the feeling that I was going to pass out from the sudden but not unexpected influx of pure overwhelming sexual bliss and waited for his growth to begin again.

My load was huge and unstoppable, pouring into his body now that he allowed it, and he gulped and swallowed with eager enthusiasm. He was a Hoover attached to my hose, and I could not push cum inside him fast enough.

At first I could not sense anything happening to him. Maybe this was one of those times when nothing would happen, but that seemed weird and impossible since he had not allowed me to feed him my cock in weeks. I had no idea how or why what happened between was happening but it seemed to me that after neglecting his need for so long, his body would be hungry to swell with fresh muscle.

He pushed me off him, shoving my hips away from his face and my cock popped out of his mouth, still erupting its huge load, and he threw himself around on the bed, nearly sending me flying, and shoved his ass in my face.

Fuck, he was hot! The smell of him, of his intense need and overwhelming sexual desire rose like a gorgeous perfume that stung my senses and nearly made my eyes water. It was like a fog of pure fuck rose from his hole and pulled me towards him, and I grabbed my throbbing, spurting, rock-hard dick in both hands, pointed the exploding mouth at his ass and shoved myself home.

He groaned with pure pleasure, an animal, feral sound that shook me and started bucking against me, making me fuck his ass rather than waiting for me to start.

He needed this as much as I did - maybe even more! Fuck, I knew how much I ached for this, but now it seemed that my own neglected desire was a flickering light before the shining, overheated sun of Lance’s absolute need to be fucked by my magic monster prick.

My eyes rolled up in their sockets and my body shook and all I could do was stand there as he shifted and bucked before me, fucking his ass against my massive cock as my uncontrollable eruption of hot cum filled him up inside.

Oh my God, his ass. His wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous and amazing ass. How had I forgotten this feeling, my cock inside his wet warmth, surrounded by perfection, stroking every inch of my hard meat with a million tiny fingers that sent violent, nearly uncontrolled spasms of pure, raw sex along my whole magnificent prick. I felt hot and hard again, and like I was swelling with new inches and pumping literal ropes of cum inside him.

My balls were hot and swollen and unstoppable. I took his narrow hips in my hands and started to fuck him as he fucked me, and the sensation of pure sex redoubled.

How could I even stand this bliss? How was I not driven crazy from pleasure? No man on Earth could withstand this perfect heavenly sustained sensation of absolute physical ecstasy.

“Fuck me,” he growled, he begged, he ordered, he pleaded, shoving the bulging muscled mounds of his perfect ass at me, surrounding my meat with his velvet vise. “Fuck me hard!”

It was a shout from God. It was a command to be obeyed. It was an undeniable and uncontrollable requirement.

Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me bigger. Fuck me with power and might and beauty unmatched.

Fuck this god of sex and perfection.

Make me grow!









 

[memorex414]

My morning treat after a craptastic super bowl! Can't wait till Monday!,,

[graniteknighte]

My favourite story on this site.

[AKA]

NAKED

 

Part Six

 

 

 

"It must have been the combination of things,” I said, sitting atop Lance’s rock-hard member and feeling him pushing his meat deeply inside me. He wasn’t necessarily fucking me, I guess, if we’re being technical. His cock was lodged inside my ass and I was sitting on his groin, just enjoying the perception of feeling filled up with his hard heat. He would occasionally flex his dick as if to remind me (and as if I needed reminding) that he was still inside me, and I’d realize the unique sensation of having inches of erect cock connecting me so intimately to his body, almost as if we were one person.

He’d remain hard inside me, occasionally shifting his hips and allowing me to enjoy the sensation of his massive prick sliding along my tight chute, sending thrills of sensual bliss all through my body, and then he’d seat himself inside again and move his hands across my naked torso, caressing my chest and belly, playing with my nipples, groaning his pleasure as he groped and fondled me.

My foot-high cock, throbbing with hard, dull pulses of bliss, would release another thick flow of warm cream to cascade down its vein-covered sides and gather in my pubic bush and coat my balls and his rippled belly. He might lean forward and place his full, warm lips to my fount and suck at my unending flow, moaning with desire and looking up at my face as I fed him. He might wrap his giant paw around my fat meat and stroke up my length and gather a pool of cum in his hand and lick it clean, then re-apply his spit-soaked skin against me and tempt another flood from the mouth of my mammoth meat.

He shrugged, unconcerned as usual and simply loving our time together. “I’m not worried,” he reported. “It’s not like I’m not already big enough.”

I realized that I was more interested in seeing him continue to develop than he was. I wanted to know how big I could make him, as if his growth was my accomplishment, and a failure to make him grow was my defeat.

But I could hardly argue with his assessment, could I? He had continued to grow as I fucked him or he sucked me, but it was nowhere near the pace that it was that day in the gym. Perhaps his growth was back to ‘normal’ levels, and he was now so large that his gains as a percentage were more difficult to see.

When he grew, I could still feel that strange, erotic heat build everywhere on his body, and he would close his eyes when it hit him and groan with pleasure and his dick would inflate to erect to full glory and pump fat gouts of cum, reacting in erotic bliss to his further muscular development. It was easier to note his continued growth when we weren’t horizontal, as his head continued to rise farther above my own and his shoulders and lats increased their spread.

Everything was growing ever larger and all of it at the same pace. His cock was now nearing my own size owing solely to his overall increased dimensions, as if his body was required to retain its perfectly balanced aspects so that no part of him was out of proportion with any other part.

I could have been measuring him and keeping records of what was happening, but he didn’t want me to. He refused to return to the gym to surpass his previous lifting records, but he said he wasn’t afraid of growing. “I just want to be with you,” he would say in his deeper, more sonorous tones, and then he’d smile that god damned beautiful smile and my cock would inflate and start pumping fresh streams of cum.



There was really only one problem that we needed to deal with, and that was our shared college advisor, Mr. Sanderson. While everyone else seemed content - or at least seemed unconcerned - with Lance’s insane muscular development and height increases that were occurring over the course of weeks or even days, Mr. Sanderson insisted that Lance “see a doctor” in case his “metabolism was out of whack” and these “unusual growth patterns” were symptoms of something worse.

I mean, Jesus, all you had to do was look at him to see he was the healthiest fucking dude on campus! Obviously, Lance failed to mention that it was my frequent cum injections that were prompting his growth, and I failed to mention that my dick was a mammoth appendage that could cum literal buckets with the slightest motivation on Lance’s part, and that it could inflate from its limp nine-inch size to something akin to a baseball bat when provoked.

I mean, why further worry the dude?

But Lance was nothing if not polite and accommodating, so he agreed to see a nurse in the college Med Center just to check things out.

I’m not exactly sure what occurred behind the closed doors of the exam room, but I have a suspicion that Lance walked in there with his naked self all pumped-up and horny as a dog in heat and gave the nurse a rather intense and thorough education concerning the art of love-making. I was somewhat in awe that anyone besides me could accommodate his size and strength, but the look on his face when he exited the medical center (naked, of course) spoke volumes about what had occurred inside.

“Everything okay?” I asked, standing up from the bench where I had been awaiting his re-emergence, and adjusting my meat at the sight of my handsome lover. Fuck he made my cock hard!

He grinned and half up his two thumbs and said, “Everything’s perfect.” Then he looked down at my over-burdened crotch and the thick length of prick bulging like a salami in my jeans and added, “Let’s go fuck.”

How could I say no to such a polite request?





We were approaching Spring Break and I started to wonder how we would be spending those two weeks - apart like at Christmas, or together at some hedonistic getaway. I mean, every hour I spent with him was more or less a hedonistic getaway, underlined with copious (some might say superabundant) sex and punctuated with long, leisurely cuddling sessions.

We were walking through campus between classes, him in his naked muscular perfection with his 10-inch meat swinging like a pendulum beneath his thick black pubic bush, me in my usual jeans, t-shirt and hoodie with my prominent meat shoved sideways in the packed crotch of my pants. It was a warm, late-winter day and the sun was high in the sky. His presence next to me was like a moving wall, hard and broad and powerful. The cool wind picks up his masculine scent and it surrounded me like perfume, a musky earthy smell like sex and sweat. “Remember what happened last time?” he asked me, his soft voice as resonant as boulders rolling down a mountain.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, as I recall your cock went into overdrive after two weeks spent apart and when we finally got back together you made me grow two sizes that day.”

“Just like the Grinch’s heart!” I said, and he rumbled a laugh. I loved making him laugh, even if it was an easy goal. I looked over - and up - at him. “Are you saying that’s something to be avoided or something to be aimed for?”

He shrugged and tilted his shaggy head. He had not cut his mane in weeks and it was now a dense cascade of gorgeous dark curls reaching nearly to his perfect, jutting ass. I insisted that he keep his beard trimmed and he insisted that I be the one to do it, if I was “going to be that adamant,” and I had learned how to style his thick facial hair into a beautiful full beard that accentuated his intense masculine visage. “I’m just calling attention to that fact.” He paused in his quick stride, owing to his longer legs, and lifted his arms, bulging his collection of insane brawn into deeply-defined balls and wedges and cables of muscle. It pushed up against his sun-kissed, golden-brown skin to reveal the insane cuts and fibers his brawn displayed. “Do you want more of this?” he asked, knowing my answer as my cock began to painfully shove itself sideways, quickly expanding in size and lust for him.

I may even have whimpered.

He just chuckled that he could do that to me so easily and set his hand on my shoulder. “I want whatever you want,” he said, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The sensation of the soft warmth of his mouth along with the roughness of his heavy beard made my cock pulse and I felt a strong tingle as my balls delivered a throb of pre along its fat inches.

“I kind of…”

“What?”

“I kind of want to see how others react to you.”

“What others?”

I gestured vaguely around us. “Everyone here is sort of used to seeing you.” Even as I said it I realized the absurdity of that statement. Who could get used to seeing a naked seven-foot-high colossus striding along with a pennant of dark, luscious hair streaming behind his muscular ass like a flag of victory? I mean, the man’s 8-pack abs needed a new word to express how defined they were. “I kind of want to see the reaction of strangers to you.”

“Would that turn you on?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“Fucking everything turns me on about you,” I replied. “But…yeah. I think it would.”

“Okay,” he said, not even considering the request. “Where do you want to go?”




It was my duty to locate a suitable location for springing my naked boner-inducing boyfriend on an unsuspecting world, and it was a surprisingly difficult assignment.

Prolonged exposure to his constantly naked presence made me think we could go anywhere, but nudity laws are weird. He could parade himself about in the altogether around campus and the city because there were no laws prohibiting it. There were “decency” laws, but they were about actions and not about someone just, you know, being naked.

Once you started looking at beach communities, where one might assume that the difference between being naked and not - which sometimes only concerned what amounted do a banana hammock or a string and two circles of material just big enough to hid a woman’s (though not, of course, a man’s) nipples - is pretty slim, there were suddenly all sorts of naked prohibitions.

There were the occasional and mostly unofficial nude beaches, but that’s not what I wanted. I wanted a situation more or less like the one we were already in, but with a new audience not used to seeing Lance’s face, body, muscles, and cock parading about in the open air with all the unashamed pride that he could muster.

And he had a lot to be proud about.

We also had a limited budget and it had to be within driving distance, since no airline I was aware of would allow Lance to board sans pants (or even a shirt) and he refused, flatly, to wear any clothing. “Why should I cover myself up to avoid offending someone else’s definition of impropriety? That’s their hang-up, not mine.”

“Yes, right, only it makes it hard…”

“Heh, you said ‘hard,’” he observed, and he squeezed my cock with his usual open habit of doing pretty much whatever he wanted wherever he was.

I batted his hand away and continued, “It just makes it harder to find somewhere to go.”

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Am I really?” I observed dryly.

“Let’s just go and have fun! Don’t worry so much about someone else’s problems. I never do.”

I couldn’t argue with that. After all, Lance was the type of dude who’s pull open my pants and go down on my plumping hard-on in the middle of the library. He walks around naked, and frequently erect. What the fuck did he care if someone else was offended?



Another problem I hadn’t counted on was fitting his bulk into the seat of a car. I finally had to rent a huge pick-up truck at a premium and we tossed our bags in the back and set off.

It was almost impossible to keep my eyes on the road, and more than once Lance reached over, undid my belt, pulled open my jeans, tugged out my prick, stroked me to erection and sucked my cock as we sped down the interstate, me pumping cum down his throat as I tried not to crash our truck into a guardrail.

I’m pretty sure we provided quite an interesting show to more than one long-haul trucker as he bobbed his shaggy head on my fountaining dick, groaning and sucking with equal fervor.

It’s not…impossible to dive a truck while a dude sucks your cock. It’s a challenge, I’ll admit that, but with practice (and I got a lot of practice) it’s a surprisingly satisfying way to pass the empty miles between fill-ups.

When we reached our destination, it was time to see exactly how we were going to be greeted by the locals. I’d found a cheap motel a couple of blocks from the beach where the majority of our Spring Break would be spent among all the other horny, drunken, eager college students and as I pulled in to the parking lot (and pulled out of Lance’s mouth) it was nightfall.

We grabbed our duffels from the back of the truck and headed towards the motel office to check in and get our room key. I was used to walking around with my naked boyfriend, but I still felt my heartbeat quicken in anticipation of how we’d be greeted by the front desk.

I opened the door for Lance and let him pass through first, ducking his head slightly as he squeezed his muscled bulk i through the doorway.

Once I circled around in front of him, I saw a young man sitting behind a large sheet of glass with eyes like saucers staring directly at Lance’s cock and balls. Lance merely stood there smiling, his arms at his sides, breathing quietly, enjoying the dude’s unabashed shock.

I approached his and waved my hand before his face, saying “Hello?” a couple of times before he snapped out of whatever reverie he was in and he flicked his gaze in my direction.

“Reservation for David Jenkins,” I reported. trying to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Guh,” he said.

“We’ll need two keys,” I said, “obviously.”

“You…you’re…”

“David Jenkins. I have a reservation for the week. Seven days, seven nights.”

“He…he’s….”

“Staying with me. Also for the week. Also seven days, seven nights.”

“I don’t think he can do that.”

“Do what?” Lance asked, stepping up to the window. His dick was even with the edge of the counter, and nearly working its way through the small open slot at the window’s lower edge.

“He’s naked,” the dude reported to me.

I turned and looked at Lance and feigned shock. “Holy shit,” I said calmly, “so he is.” I pulled out my credit card, nudged Lance’s heavy dick aside, and slid the card through the slot. “Just the one room,” I said.

“We’re gonna fuck a lot,” Lance added, “so we only need one bed.”

“What he said,” I agreed.

“What?”

“Lots of fucking,” I repeated. “And actually I’m kind of horny right now, so if we could hurry this along? I’d really like to get my cock in his ass as soon as possible.”

“His cock,” Lance said, moving his hand onto by overburdened crotch, “my ass. In that order.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Yes,” Lance said, “it is, when he does it.” He looked suddenly concerned and asked, “It’s not illegal if he fucks me, is it? We don’t want to break any laws, so we, Dave?”

“Well, none that matter, anyway,” I said. The dude still hadn’t made a move to swipe my card, so I asked, “is there a problem?”

“He’s naked,” the dude repeated.

Lance planted his hands on his hips, framing his cock, and asked, “And…?”

“Look at it this way…Sam,” I said, reading his name off his name tag, “the sooner you get us checked in, the sooner you can stop trying to deal with the naked dude in the lobby. Make sense?”

Sam was just staring at Lance’s prick, again.

“I’m not gonna get any less nude if you keep staring at it,” Lance reported. He shifted his hips to and fro slightly to cause his massive meat to sway playfully.

As if in a dream, Sam took my card, swiped it, reached up to grab a key, slid them both back through to me, and said, “Room 12. Across the lot. Near the ice machine.”

“Two keys?” I asked.

“That’s okay,” Lance answered brightly. “I don’t have any pockets anyway.”





“Well, that was fun,” I observed as we walked across the parking lot towards our room.

“I’m used to it,” Lance said, glancing back at the office, “but he’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure he will,” I agreed. I was also sure he was already back in the employee restroom stroking out a loud with Lance’s face and body burned into his imagination. I reached over and rested my hand on his bare buttock as we walked, feeling his muscles stretch and bulge. “I suppose you get reactions like that a lot.”

He shrugged, and hung his heavy, and heavily-muscled, arm across my shoulders. “Sure. At first almost everyone is like that, but after a while they get used to it. Everybody does.”

He’d said those exact same words to me when we met, and I’m sure my reaction wasn’t so different from Sam’s. And now…I was used to it. I even preferred it.

I glanced down, my eyes attracted by something, and realized he was growing erect as we strode across the asphalt, his majestic prick swelling and rising, its long neck stretching and bulging as the head emerged from its tight cowl of foreskin.

He saw me watching him growing visibly aroused, his hardening prick wagging in front of him like a dousing rod, and he asked, “if you didn’t want that reaction, why did you start groping my butt?”

I grabbed as much of his hard, muscular ass as I could, working my fingers into the deep, warm, sweaty separation between his muscular globes and touched the tender heat of his hole. “Who said I didn’t want that reaction?”





It was our first night of vacation and I wanted to go out. Not that I was a party boy or anything, but I wanted to dance and I wanted to show off my naked boyfriend. There were three likely candidates for our opening night; the first was the self-proclaimed “official gay bar” of the town, called Rock Bottom, the second was either a motorcycle bar or a leather bar or both, called Cyclotron, and the third was a hot spot that lots of college kids of all persuasions visited with the unfortunate name of Freddy Toad’s, which I assumed was a cheap knockoff of Señor Frog’s.

We fucked each other for a good, long time but were rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the room door. We elected at first to ignore it (after all, I was pushed deep inside him, thrusting like a dude trying to knock a hole in the wall with his dick, Lance flat on his back on the rickety bed with his dick shoving fountains of cream in wild arcs and me standing on the ratty carpet with his ankles in my grip, pulling him wide open to fit me inside as I pumped him full of cum) but the visitor was rather insistent, so I yelled, “Hold your fucking horses!” and I extracted my spurting monster from his well-used ass and continued coming all over Lance’s butt and belly and chest until I could calm my jets and stop pumping cream out of my balls.

I walked to the door, my over-foot-long super-fat cock still at full power, drooling strings of cum as Lance sat up on the bed, his body overheated and thick with muscle, and I opened the door.

I’m not sure the cop standing outside could have looked more astonished than he was. He may not have been surprised that there were two dudes fucking behind that closed door (neither Lance nor I were particularly muted in our enthusiasm at that stage, vocalizing quite a variety of entreaties and reactions to our mutual pleasure) but seeing me open the door in my naked state with a dick bigger than any he had likely ever encountered, coated in a sheen of sweat and my own not-unimpressive muscular frame shredded and bulging, with the equally-nude monster of brawn lying on the bed behind me with his own dick only slightly smaller than my own tucking its throbbing head into the deep crevasse that was created by the largest set of pectoral globes this side of a Mr. Olympia stage.

“Well?” I asked, my dick deflating and my hair a sweaty mess on my head, “Can I help you?”

“I…was told that….” He rose up slightly on his toes to gaze over my shoulders at the naked man on the bed. “I need to inform you that you can’t…he can’t…no one is allowed…”

“Are you trying to convey that there are some laws regarding nudity in your city and that perhaps my friend here should consider covering certain regions of his anatomy before we venture again out into the general public?”

“The…yeah,” he said.

I had to admit that the cop was kind of cute, if he lost about twenty pounds and got a decent haircut. He was probably ten years older than Lance or I, and by the sudden swelling in his pants he was at least vaguely interested by what had greeted him. Additionally, the room probably reeked of sex.

“Actually,” I said, folding my arms across my chest and leaning my body against the door frame while Lance climbed off the bed and came to stand next to me, a towering mass of muscle that may have been growing larger as he stood there, “there are no laws that prohibit public nudity on your books.” The cop opened his mouth to speak, a trickle of sweat on his brow, but I interrupted him. “You’re about to quote your law regarding nude sunbathing and lewd behavior, so I should point out to you that neither one of us - me or this handsome naked man you’re checking out - is sunbathing. And lewd behavior is described specifically as engaging in sexual activities in a public place, public masturbation, urinating in public, or voyeurism. So if we’re being strictly legal here, officer, you’re the one whose actions border on lewd behavior, judging only by the looks you’re giving my boyfriend.”

Lance said, “Yeah,” and folded his arms across his massive chest, too. I think he was enjoying this.

“I’m not sure….”

“Well, I am,” I said. “I was very careful to research the local laws concerning public nudity, and there are none. Nada. Zilch. My friend is allowed to wander around stark naked if he wants to. So am I, for that matter. So are you.”

“But…he’s…you’re….”

“I believe that we are currently inside a private space and are allowed to do whatever we want to with each other. The fact that I have…” I looked down, and frowned. “Had…a hard-on and my friend’s rather impressive body is coated with cum is also perfectly legal.”

“Yeah,” Lance said again, and I noted a distinct note of pride in his voice.

“Well…just…be careful, sirs. If I get another complaint I’ll have to….”

“If you get another complaint about my friend’s lack of clothing, I shall sue your city government, and I assure I’ll win, and the amount awarded is likely to be something close to ten times your annual salary.” His mouth was hanging open and his was blinking. “Are we done, here? My friend and I still have some fucking to do before we go out for the evening.” He still had nothing to say and stood there in stunned silence. “Excellent. Thank you for your service and for protecting the public, and I’m sure you have better things to do with your time than hassling a couple of law-abiding visitors to your fair metropolis. Have a good evening, officer!”

He stood there with a hard-on in his pants and his jaw agape.

“Unless you wanted to come inside and join us, of course.” I shifted my gaze down to his groin and added, “I’m sure Lance and I can figure out a few things to do to relieve you of that burden.”

“I…good night,” he said, and he turned abruptly on his heel and I closed the door.

“Now,” I said, reaching down to stroke Lance’s thick cock with one hand and tickling his nipple with the fingernail of my other one, “where were we?”
 

[Hanugumo]

Wow, that last part was amazing. 8D

I love it when it is the smaller guy that stands up to people and justly so. <=D <3 <3