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Part 1 is above. -- Part 2 “This was stupid.” Finn felt embarrassed sitting in the locker room, surrounded by guys all around who looked three times larger than him. He was 5’10” and comfortably skinny. Not bony. But his baggy old t-shirt, basketball shorts and posture betrayed the fact that he wasn’t much of an athlete at all. A good look in the mirror told him he was way out of his element, and that this wasn’t where he’s meant to be. Brian thought different. “Everyone starts somewhere,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his sculpted physique. Finn got red seeing his pecs bulging and his abs exposed with its pleasure trail leading downwards. He looked away as Brian pulled on a loose stringer over his body. “What sport did you play again?” Finn asked. “Basketball in college.” Brian kicked off his work pants and slipped on his gym shorts. “Also did a little bit of football in high school.” “Seems like everyone else’s story here.” Finn glanced around the locker room again, standing awkwardly. He couldn’t even believe he was here, and that Brian was here talking to him like they were talking for forever. “It literally looks like no one else is ‘starting somewhere.’” “Relax, dude. No one here’s gonna judge you. Besides, you’re an intern. I got you covered.” Brian threw the rest of his items in his locker, atop Finn’s stuff. “Random question, what’d you eat today?” “Just some cheese pizza from Napoli’s.” “Damn bro, that’s it?” Brian seemed shocked. He chuckled before he reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle. “Dude, drink this.” He tossed it to Finn, who miraculously managed to catch it. Finn inspected the bottle — it was another Gamma Labs drink, like the one he saw Brian drinking in the office, but this one was labeled ‘GAMMA UNLOCK PROTEIN SHAKE.’ Chocolate flavored. A crude faceless stock photo of a bodybuilder edited green was slapped on the side. “I just got a pack of this in the mail last night. I’ve never tried it before but I guess they just dropped it as part of a new line a couple weeks ago,” Brian explained. “I should’ve brought more than one.” “Thank you, but… Why are you giving it to me?” Finn inspected the bottle for a bit before a logo in the back caught his eye. “You need protein and energy. You can’t workout without either, and you got neither. It’s supposed to be some special formula that gives you both. I was gonna drink it but you need it a whole lot more than me.” Brian closed his locker before turning to see Finn still frozen looking at the bottle. “Come on, chug that shit so we can get this started!” Finn shook his head. “Yeah, for sure.” He twisted the cap off and started drinking it. The logo he saw — he wasn’t sure where he’d seen it but he swore he’d seen it before. But who it was… “You done?” Finn didn’t even realize he’d finished it so quickly. He pulled the bottle away from his mouth, quickly followed by a sudden burp. “...’scuse me.” After several minutes of Finn stalling, the two finally made their way out of the locker room. The gym wasn’t the largest in the world, but it definitely wasn’t just some small hole in the wall gym. Finn was astounded at how many machines were so tightly lined up on the floor, taking in the size of the huge mirror completely covering one wall. “I’ve never seen a mirror this big,” Finn said, bashfully following Brian walking through. He was wondering if the drink that Brian gave him had gone bad — his stomach began to hurt. “Yeah. That didn’t used to be there. It’s kind of a nice upgrade.” Finn was increasingly entranced by the whole gym floor, seeing everything through the mirror. However he was dismayed when he finally noticed the huge image reflected from the wall opposite to it. Finn turned to confirm — it was a huge painted mural of what looked to be some depiction of the Hulk (or “a” Hulk) curling a huge dumbbell in one hand and flexing his bicep on the opposite, all while stepping on a globe as if to show off his glutes and quads. Beside it were the words ‘Strength, Power, and Drive’ inscribed above an out-of-context quote from the late Bruce Banner: “Channel your rage and embrace the beast inside.” The mural was in his direct line of sight while they stretched. Finn just followed what he saw from Brian, stretching his arms, then his back, then his legs, then his sides. Each time Brian shifted a little off, Finn could see the painting, only compounding his questions and bringing him back to his assignment on the Green Wave. It was beginning to get distracting. “Don’t you think it’s weird how like… everyone’s treating the Hulk like some kind of fitness legend and model for men?” Finn stretched towards his toes once more. “He was a destroyer — even Dr. Banner said so — but fast forward two decades later and he’s the idol of every jock on the block.” Brian looked up and glanced behind him. “Talking about that shit on the wall, huh?” He turned back around and slowly got up. “The new owners put that one in there too. I used to think it was corny, but I’ve kinda warmed up to it.” Finn leaned forward to listen, loosening his stretches. “Bruce Banner had issues on his own. If he didn’t, you know it’d be different when he’d go Hulk mode. But imagine if some average dude like you or me could be like that.” Brian slowly loosened up his stretches. “Super strong, hella tough, running off all your rage but without losing control. No one would fuck with you. You’d be the biggest man in the room.” “Even with the green?” “I don’t know, but to be honest, the green’s lowkey the best part. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fuckin weird. But think about it, it’s like poison dart frogs. When people see you, they’ll know exactly what you are. It’s badass. I like badass.” Brian finally got up. “You ready to hit some weights?” Finn thought about it as he finally got up. “Yeah.” Brian’s explanation seemed so effortlessly simple. Like who wouldn’t want to be super strong? But what exactly did Brian mean when he said ‘exactly what you are’? They wasted no time heading to the dumbbell rack, right under the mural. The first exercise was bicep curls, which Brian tried to explain would be the easiest to test Finn’s strength. “Look, we can start you off at 10 pounds,” Brian said, settling into his fitness trainer tone of voice. “We’ll just work on form and making sure you get the motions right.” And on form they worked. Finn had never scrutinized himself in the mirror so harshly before, trying to imitate Brian’s movements so closely. But even when Brian was just trying to demonstrate what to do and what not to do, Finn had to bite his tongue. Brian used the same 10 pound weight as him in his demonstration, maneuvering it about effortlessly with little sway while Finn was flailing about and shaking, clearly unbalanced and not as strong. As soon as he’d be done, he’d switch over to his pair of 50 pound dumbbells. “And that’s 8 full reps.” Brian put down his weights. “How are you feeling?” Finn bent down to put his weights down as well. He was short on words as his muscles relaxed. “Fine,” he said. “Just fine? You feeling any burning, soreness, anything?” Brian asked. Much to Finn’s relief, Brian picked up Finn’s weights to return them to the rack. “I can feel my heart rate’s up,” Finn said. It wasn’t by much, but the feeling of the beating in his chest told him he was actually breaking a sweat. “I mean, I’m catching my breath over here.” “Well let’s see how you do with 15 pounds.” Brian walked back with a new pair of dumbbells, visibly larger than the last. Finn put his hands up. “I think I’m good with 10. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” “There’s that fear again,” Brian said, cracking a smile. “Trust me. You said you’re just feeling your heart rate up, but it didn’t look like you were feeling that much resistance. That’s just the warm up.” There was, again, no other excuse from Finn. He looked at Brian and sighed before reluctantly squatting down to pick up the dumbbells and — wow, that’s some actual resistance. The additional weight, though small, only further illuminated Finn’s lack of strength. Where before, Finn looked clumsy just because of his poor form and lack of experience, you could now actually see the effort he was putting in as his muscles began to start working. He was embarrassed, feeling the fibers in his biceps wake up and come alive, an unfamiliar burning beginning to set in. He was scared. A voice in the back of his head told him to just keep pushing. Strong. Forceful. Commanding. “There we go,” Brian said, watching Finn test himself even more. “I bet now you’re feeling it. That’s that lactic acid doing its work.” “Yeah, I’m feeling something for sure,” Finn said a bit sarcastically, getting more irritated than comforted by Brian’s voice. Did he detect condescension? That voice at the back of his head once again spoke up, quick to anger, noting Brian was beginning to piss him off. And in the middle of him struggling, but for some reason actually trying, he wasn’t interested in Brian’s patronizing attitude. On the third rep, Finn was feeling good. Keeping pace with Brian. This was feeling easier. Finn wore a fierce expression on his face that he’d never had before, locking eyes with himself in the mirror. The burning he felt was quickly subsiding as his back straightened and his shoulders looked more taut and controlled as he rolled them backwards. A tingling sensation instead arose at the back of his head and in his muscles. “You’re actually hitting those reps perfectly,” Brian said. Even he looked a bit confused. “Fuck yeah I am.” A certain confidence oozed from Finn’s words. Something had clicked as he took another breath in, pushing his chest out and leaning just slightly forward. His brain’s synapses were firing off as they quickly wrote something new into his muscle memory, making him look like a natural master at form. Confidence in the gym was not something he thought he’d see today. The large mural looming large behind him as he looked at his reflection only added to him suddenly feeling like he was on top of the world. The voice in the back of his head called out to him again. Telling him that this was what he’d been missing his whole life — discipline, training, the feeling of power in his body. It felt almost like the devil whispering things in his ear to tempt him. If so, the devil’s suggestions were innocent enough; just add another 5 pounds. And then another. He’d completed two sets at 25 pounds in each hand when the fatigue was finally setting in. Finn set the dumbbells down, sweat dripping down his arms and chest. “That… that felt good.” He felt like he was clawing back to a more conscious reality, a strangely dazed look in his eyes. Finn had felt the high of good exercise before, especially after his long runs. But this… Something was different about this. He felt different. “Hell yeah, bro,” Brian said, clapping his hand against Finn’s back. “You picked up the intensity way faster than I ever did. No offense dude, but you were looking like someone who could only lift 10s. Are you sure you’re a beginner?” “I’ve only been a runner. I’m serious when I say I’ve never touched a weight before in my life.” Finn picked up his water bottle as the tingling sensation subsided. He half expected his arms to feel like pure jelly, like other people in his life experienced when they started working out. Instead, he just felt stronger. Better. Bigger. If either of them had paid closer attention, they would’ve noticed Finn’s eyes flash green for just a moment, and Finn would’ve noticed his shirt was a little tighter than before. — Sprawled out on the couch of his living room was Finn, feeling himself sink into the cushions. He was back home earlier than he’s ever been all summer, but he felt like he had his longest day yet. He would ordinarily rush to describe it as weird, with such an unorthodox schedule. Finn felt outside of himself, doing things so different from what he’d imagined the day would let him do. In reality, it would be an otherwise ordinary day. The morning was just a little rough. And him going home early was unusual. Even in spite of the weird strength discovery, his first time at the gym was decidedly mundane. The only thing he couldn’t explain was this shift he could feel within himself. Something about the idea of becoming like the mindless meatheads in the gym terrified him, but the relief and satisfaction he felt only served as justification for their devotion. He laid there, his damp shirt stuck to his chest, feeling the sheen of dried sweat sticking his fluffy hair to his forehead and temples. He was… exhilarated. For the longest time, he’d denied any inkling of interest in the gym. Now, he couldn’t wait to go back. Finn absentmindedly scratched his crotch, trying to adjust himself towards more comfort. As he did, stretching his arms up, the smell of his pits hit his nose. A combination of his more subtle fragrance, deodorant, and the strong smell of a man’s sweat. His nose scrunched up and he immediately got up. He didn’t even know his body could smell like that. He needed to shower. A buzzing sound reverberated in his bag as he dragged it to his bathroom. Eager to end the vibrations, Finn dug into his bag and pulled out his phone, seeing a notification from Brian. Brian: Hey can you check if one of my shirts in your bag Brian: Cant find it Finn’s thick brows furrowed before he turned on his phone’s light to illuminate the contents of his bag. He stuck his hand inside and, lo and behold, out came a white shirt damper than his own, it’s sleeves cut off smelling much stronger than any of his own stuff, adorned with the three Greek-letter logo of a fraternity. On the tag inside was Brian’s name. Finn tried to hold his breath, as to not be attacked by the strong musky scent that infected his bag. He snapped a pic and sent it to Brian. Finn: found it i think Finn: [Sent 1 image] He went ahead to turn on the shower and open the window before he finally took a breath — just to realize his precautions did nothing to lessen what was emanating. A strong cologne and the remnants of crude body spray, all mixed with the thick scent of a man, stronger than what Finn thought was offensive coming from his own body. Idling holding it while trying to decide whether he’d rather stick this in a bag in the kitchen now or after his shower, the smell continued to flood his senses. Finn had always hated how gross it seemed, going around dressed in fragrances that barely masked the workout a guy had just completed. Yet as he held the shirt in his hand, feeling the steam of the shower fill the room, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to it. Brian: Thanks sorry if it smells, that’s my usual workout shirt Brian: Can you bring it to work tomorrow lol Finn imagined him wearing it, slipping on a remnant from his time in his fraternity, working up a sweat in the gym, just like he’d seen him today. His muscles rippling and bulging with each rep, coated in sweat and reflecting the harsh white overhead lights. His labor in the gym fueling his gradual transformation towards something bigger. Just like the Hulk, laid out on the wall behind him. Was he really horny thinking about this? His chest started to pound as an uncomfortable stiffening took place between his legs. His mind raced as the image of Brian standing tall, intently staring into his own eyes in the gym’s large mirror, watching his sweat stain his shirt, getting tighter around his muscles every day. “Shit.” Finn felt distracted from his original task at hand. He began to fondle himself through his basketball shorts, eventually settling into a gentle rubbing and stroking of his newly erect cock. As if it had a mind of its own, acting on wants that Finn never knew he had, his hand brought the shirt to his face for him to fully inhale Brian’s masculine scent. He quickly dropped his shorts to the ground, sitting on the top of his toilet’s seat. As his eyes closed, fully indulging in the idea of Brian turning into some warped version of himself, muscles instantly inflating into hard boulders around his body, his eyes going green before his skin does, mimicking the transformation of the late superhero. Finn softly moaned, his dick lurching forward at the thought. He reminded himself of what Brian had been saying at the start of their workout, talking about how he wouldn’t mind being a Hulk. A memory of a decades-old clip of Dr. Banner hulking out in a documentary, showing off his monstrous, powerful physique played in his head, slowly morphing into Brian going through the same thing. He thought about Brian wearing this shirt and ripping out of it, a green-skinned chest pushing out between the shreds of the shirt. Dropping the weights in his hand and standing over him, flexing biceps. “You wish you were half the man I was, don’tcha, bitch?” A voice called out. But it wasn’t quite Brian’s voice, it was… The pace of Finn’s stroking quickened as he took another deep breath, Brian’s shirt so intoxicating and mind numbing at that point that Finn couldn’t help but push himself deeper. He imagined Brian’s taking on a more brutish personality, a combination of the meathead stereotype in his head and the masculine personas he’d encountered in his research into the Green Wave. He could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to stop. He imagined Brian being a total dumb show off, ready to prove his superiority and masculinity at a moment’s whim. He’d denied it for so long, but he now he couldn’t — guys were hotter like that. He felt himself slowly get closer and closer to climax, with everything flashing in his head all at once. A part of himself asked why he was so worked up — did he want Brian or did he want to BE Brian? Any interrogation was quashed by his desperate sniffs in between his tugs, his brain desperately trying to sustain the image of Brian turned into a gamma-powered brute. Unable to control himself, he dropped Brian’s shirt as well. He began to whisper to himself, talking to himself in a way he’s never done before. “Fuck… Fuck yeah… Lose control… Hulk out… You know you want to…” His conversation with his friend the other day popped up in his head. He thought about how uncertain and weirded out he was by his friend’s sudden conversion, but at least at this moment the appeal was apparent. The words he was whispering — he wasn’t sure if they were meant for Brian or himself. That uncertainty is what led to the image of a Hulked out Brian to falter in his head, slowly losing it, cycling through, before it became clearer once again, Finn trying to make the image clearer in his head, trying to make out who owned those boulder shoulders and abs, the thick green neck, the trail leading to his dick, that messy short black hair, those eyes, it was him, Finn hulked out, he looked fucking amazing hulked out, he was— “Ungggh -” A deep moan left his lips as he shot a load up onto his shirt before he pumped himself all over the bathroom floor. It felt like a part of his soul went as he did, his brain short circuiting for a moment as pure pleasure overtook him, the gratification unlike anything he’s ever induced in himself and more primal than he’d ever felt in himself. Finn sat there, slouched over, trying to support himself, shaking. He was shuddering trying to catch his breath, each one deeper than the other. He gently licked the cum on his fingers in his haze as the orgasm’s euphoria slowly subsided. It was a slow fall back to earth as he realized the shower was still running. He blinked and shook his head. Clarity hit him and he realized the full extent of what he’d done — he’d just jerked himself off to his coworker’s sweaty shirt. And over what — him turning into the Hulk? Finn felt conflicted and upset as he realized how strange he was being today. He would’ve never done something like this before. A voice in the back of his head told him it was just that his testosterone was up because of his workout. Testosterone’s a bitch. Finn looked over to his phone, contemplating the sound of the water running from the showerhead. Brian’s messages were still open, awaiting a response. — Finn took a very long time in the shower, standing for several long minutes taking in the heat of the water. After, he got dinner: his usual spicy tofu dish and fresh greens from the Chinese place around the corner — with a twist: to satisfy his insatiable hunger that day, drained from the workout, he got an extra serving of orange chicken. After such a long, unconventional day, there was nothing that better suited him than spending the last hours of the day in bed, half under a blanket under a fan set to the highest setting. He plugged his phone in and pulled up TikKot in an attempt to just take his mind off of… everything. A collection of social satire, bite-sized explainers, and media commentary was right at his fingertips once again, populating his endless feed. It worked to entertain him for a short while, but there was something missing. There was something gnawing at him on the inside. As if the phone could read his mind, Finn’s next swipe revealed a video of a guy showcasing his progress. Crudely cut together were a couple videos of him just a year ago, looking just as weak and scrawny as he currently did. The music suddenly dropped into a bass-y breakdown, and the video transitioned to a few clips of the same guy, looking three times bigger than he did before, bulging with muscle and a tame imitation of the Hulk’s anger and drive in his eyes. In the caption explaining his transformation were the tags #hulkout and #greenwave. Finn did a double take, checking which account he was on. Sure enough, he was on his own personal account. Did he accidentally try to dig into the Green Wave with his main profile? For some reason he didn’t really mind it. It changed things up, which was very nice. As his concern and panic melted away he scrolled on, his mind lingering on that guy’s Green Wave-motivated change and bravado as he watched short videos of cats. It didn’t take long before he encountered another outlier on his feed. It was a podcast clip, with just three guys sitting around the table on an elaborately decorated set, behind expensive looking microphones. They looked a bit familiar, but Finn couldn’t help but feel immediately glued to the screen. Something about how the guys looked and how they talked just commanded his attention, making him invested in what they had to say. They all looked around the same level as each other but one of them, maybe 5 years older than Finn at most, was positioned across from the other two, framing him as the host of the show. His short blond army crew cut hair, clean five o’clock shadow, and thick neck gave him a classically rugged masculine look. “You know why we always bring up the Hulk as a model on this podcast? It’s not just because he’s a badass fuckin beast,” he said, sounding vaguely familiar to Finn’s ears. “For people that have just found this podcast, you know we all keep saying that we all need to embrace the Hulk inside, to take up the mantle of Hulkhood, but you probably are missing some of the context that defined this podcast at the beginning.” Finn looked to check who this was — it was the Intelligencia Pod from this morning! His first instinct upon this realization was to scroll again, but the next guy spoke and Finn couldn’t help but continue watching. The next speaker looked like he was more around Finn’s age. His black hair was matted by a backwards cap, his skin had a subtle tan, and his sleeveless shirt revealed a not-as-large but still impressive physique. “The obvious one is the physical part. You gotta want to be better. That means getting bigger and stronger, and being able to prove it. You look at the Hulk, you look at Banner — Banner is where we start off at the beginning of our Hulk journey, but Hulk? Hulk is what we wanna be. No, it’s what we are MEANT to be. Strong as hell, being able to take lead. Nobody wants their friend, their brother, their partner to be fuckin weak,” he said. Finn recoiled at his first instinct. It sounded toxic as hell, the same kind of toxicity he’s spent half his life rebelling against and the full duration of his internship trying to strategize against. The false equivalency between absolute strength and absolute weakness. All echoed effortlessly and casually by some random dude on this podcast for any guy to pick up. Yet that voice at the back of his head echoed it as well, planting the seed of doubt in his own convictions. Did he really want to be weaker than the rest of the pack? “The rage. The anger. Most men these days have it bubbling inside, but they don’t know where to put it. Where to let it out,” the guy said. “The Hulk had it down, he channeled that rage into his power. That’s better than the average human, who lets it eat it up. Nah, Hulkhood is about owning your anger and harnessing it. Letting it become your mode of control.” The historical revisionism of their characterization of the Hulk was astounding. Dr. Banner would’ve condemned this for sure. The idea of rage being your default state seemed a bit terrifying, as the Hulk’s early incidents would reveal. Part of Finn wanted to write an angry comment about how dangerous this was — another part of him wanted to let out that anger otherwise. As Finn continued to listen, it sounded like there was a weird overlay in the audio. The audio anomaly was distracting, but Finn couldn’t make out exactly what the sound was. It sounded almost like words being whispered, but tucked far enough to the back that he couldn’t fully make out what they were saying. “The psychological aspect is huge,” the older host said. “The Hulk represents being unchained from society’s standards. Their trends. Their wants. He represents letting out what’s inside and truly becoming who you’re meant to be. And most men, especially the ones listening, are meant to be more than they can imagine themselves to be. Do you want to be like the average joe on the block? Or do you want to join the lineage of men reclaiming the power they have inside?” Finn was getting a headache watching the clip. Not just from the rhetoric, which he found abhorrent and antithetical to his own values. What he didn’t realize was that there was a subtle, weird pattern periodically overlaid upon the video, words flashing, invisible to the naked eye but pronounced to be picked up by the subconscious. The third guy in the podcast spoke. His light blond hair was separated with a middle part, the sides shaved tight. “I know when Mark first tried to get me onto the Green Wave, I was skeptical. It just didn’t seem like it was meant for someone like me,” he said, gesturing to the other younger speaker beside him. “But the more I dove into it, the more I found myself in it,” he continued. “Mark sent me episodes of this podcast — your podcast — and I realized how much I resonated with it. You don’t realize the confidence you feel, you almost feel, like, superior. That Hulk mentality changes you. It makes you tough. It makes you fear your own strength. I like it.” Finn didn’t know why he decided to watch through the whole thing, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to leave a comment, but instead decided not to feed the trolls. He just scrolled away, their words weighing heavy in his mind. However, the next video was even more strange in both its sheer appearance and its place on Finn’s feed, although more mundane. The video started off with the sound of a man yelling “HEY BRO,” vaguely sounding like the voice of Mark from the previous video, before white noise completely took over. The video playing looked like pure static. Finn was ready to just scroll away when he noticed the caption was only the tag #greenwave, and that the video’s view and like numbers were rising by the second. What was this? A teaser video? Promotion for something? Finn pulled up the comments, hoping to gain some insight. Unfortunately, the comments were just as confused as he was, with about half questioning what the point of the video was, a quarter being Green Wave acolytes repeating the same faux “self improvement” rhetoric, and the remaining encouraging readers to watch the video through to the end. So Finn did just that. Trying to combat that headache and the weird tingling that returned to the back of his head, he laid there, staring at the static. His screen would flash green periodically, but he just chalked that up to a glitch in the app, as it always was. It wasn’t long before his eyes slowly closed as the video’s white noise and its contents filled his ears for yet another night. ---------- Click to read Part 3 >>

Summary: A level headed and principled intern at a think tank, is tasked with researching the so-called “Green Wave,” a new movement sweeping the nation’s male youth tangentially inspired by the superhero alter-ego of the late Dr. Bruce Banner. As this intern falls deeper into the rabbit hole, he finds out more than he expected and finds himself questioning his direction. Loosely inspired by She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (2022) season 1 Disclaimer: The Hulk is a copyright of Marvel. I do not claim ownership. Warning: Political themes, toxic masculinity (?) Thank you to @czechhunter69 for feedback. This is a very plot-heavy story, so if you want a deeper story and not just a cum-and-go story, you’re in the right place. Originally written to be a one-shot, but split into parts for easy reading. THERE WILL BE FOUR PARTS TO THIS! ---------- Author’s Note: I was watching She-Hulk again with a friend, and while it’s not Marvel’s best work, the plotline involving Intelligencia had some potential. I have an idea for a line of stories based on it, starting with this one. Whether they all get written, who knows - but at least we have this one. And I know it takes place 4 decades in the future with all the contemporary slang, websites, and archetypes of today, but bear with me. Also, this is loosely in the MCU, but it doesn’t focus on any superheroes or pre-existing characters too much (other than the Hulk of course), only using it as a backdrop. Be aware that this has some darker implications and explorations of masculinity mixed into the muscle growth, so if you’re not into the parallels I’m drawing to real life, this might not be for you. Maybe consider this a bit of a cautionary tale about looking out for what your friends are looking at online. Please note that this first part does not have ANY muscle growth — but still please read for the story! I promise the next parts will be much more spicy. ---------- Part 1 2064. “Morning Finn. Got a new assignment for you.” Peeking from behind the large monitor, the intern’s brown eyes locked onto the packet of documents dropped onto his desk. Without missing a beat, he picked it up and opened it, reading through the organization’s briefing. Sometimes he felt like he was a CIA agent planning a psyop, not a political science student working at one of the most guarded think tanks in the nation. Each topic and area of research was treated as a “case” — not just a study, but an actual investigative case to close. Case in point, the documents detailed a small, but steadily rising movement among his peers. “Good morning to you, Marty...” Finn’s voice had a deep but raspy tone, almost sounding as if he struggled to keep it at that pitch even at his soft-spoken, almost whispery volume. He swept his dark brown short shaggy hair out of his face as he continued. “What is this? ‘The Green Wave, popular with Gen Gamma males aged 18-25.’ It just reads like another dumb trend for immature guys.” “Read more,” the middle aged man pulled a seat in front of Finn. Finn glanced up before continuing. “‘Idolizing volatile fitness personalities, feeding off a culture that borderline fetishizes strength and power, and inspired by the late legendary superhero Bruce Banner, Gen Gamma swept up by the Green Wave are redefining what masculinity means for them by reinforcing what they know. They’re projected to have a devastating psychological and political impact on the demographic.” Finn paused before recalling some of his friends who’ve been acting different over the past few months, wondering if this had something to do with it. “Interesting,” he ended simply. “Your goal is to study them,” Marty said. He reclined a lil bit in the chair. “I want you to figure out how they appear. How guys your age get pulled in. What methods they use. What makes them tick. What changes in all these guys. We figured since you’re in Gen Gamma it would be easiest for you to understand them in context.” “Just study them?” “We want to see if they’re doing anything different that we could use for our own campaigns. Election season’s coming up and our client wants some data on what’s happening here, and maybe we could even intervene. Think you can do that?” Finn looked through the rest of the packet. Some lists of hashtags, accounts, ideas, and people apart of this movement. It seemed… A little unrefined, but workable. Though Finn thought that ‘intervention’ was not exactly the direction he cared about. “Yeah I can do it,” he said. “What’s the deadline for the first round of info briefs?” “End of week.” Marty sprung out of his chair and headed towards the door. “Ping me if you got any questions.” — Finn spent the first half of the day finishing up his last reports before transitioning to working on the Green Wave assignment. And he wished he wasted another hour before jumping in. As expected, the scene was very… Male. It was a bunch of amateur bodybuilder bros drunk on their own manufactured sense of masculinity. They were pretty much exactly what you’d think. A lil dumb, a lil vain, definitely cocky, and one-track-minded on reaching ‘Hulkhood’ — whatever that means. Corny naming aside, it definitely looked like their model and template was this bastardized idea of the Hulk — this toxic, inhuman, ultra strong, gamma green image of being a man without any of the Banner. Finn just shook his head the whole time. If any of the Avengers were still alive to see what people did to his image, they’d all condemn the glorification of the Hulk. But their naming just made it obvious they just didn’t get that. Maybe Finn was just too pretentious to handle the mindless and uneducated droning of these guys. But that was just the surface. Finn barely knew what else laid underneath the surface, given that these were just the most popular creators. As far as he could tell, it really was just another stupid aesthetic latched onto gym bro culture. But there had to be something else. The comments on some of these reposts on Britter alone were enough of an indicator that this had to be a whole other corner of the internet that he just has never interacted with. Not wanting the algorithms to mess with his carefully curated timelines, Finn made a new account on each of the major platforms. He immediately followed different accounts — the big ones listed on the brief he was given, other big accounts that seem only tangentially related to the Green Wave, and a few random guys his age who follow Green Wave guys and seem to be posting a lot. It’s time to research. — The rest of the day was slow. Finn felt like he was losing brain cells every time he scrolled to another Green Wave video on TikKot. They all started the same: some kind of hook focused on the guy trying to gas himself up for being ripped, then some faux-deep talk about “finding your inner Hulk,” then some workout tips, then an edit of their latest workout set to whatever trending song seemed most “hard” at the moment. He just didn’t get it, it seemed like generic gym motivation content. Two months into this internship season, and this might be the most nothingburger case he’s handled. How could this be politically relevant? Going home was his respite. Thankfully his internship paid for his rent for the duration of the internship, letting him live in a nice apartment for the summer. He just has to keep the internship, which should be no problem. He’d never say it outright, but Finn knew he was dedicated and smart. That’s why he was the only intern they recruited for three seasons at a row at this point. Changing the world for the better by understanding, was what he said in his interview. Bridging divides and making connections. Solving the social issues of our time. Creating acceptance and good for the world that would transform the headlines in the news into positive ones. But increasingly discouraged by the lack of change despite his efforts, the news never changed. Even as Finn turned on the TV and switched it to the news channel, he was feeling like it might be a lil futile. What good was this data? He knew where he stood, but he wondered if it was a combination of boredom and frustration that influenced his growing apathy towards change. “We’re coming to you live from the city,” the news anchor announced. “Today we are doing a deep dive on the so-called ‘Green Wave.’ Could it impact the future of Gen Gamma? Or will it end up be—” Finn groaned and shut the TV off. Even at home he couldn’t escape his work. However he knew the news was clearly overreacting as always, sensationalizing something that would turn out to be an unpopular, fringe online community. As he idly thought about what he should get for dinner, he scrolled through Extergram, trying to see if his friends were doing anything. He had a dry feed and instead went to check his own profile, looking over his old memories and pictures with friends. He should check in on a couple of them. Finn took no time in video calling Tyler. He picked up immediately, his face popping up and his voice, a bit deeper and more monotone than Finn remembered, boomed through his phone’s speakers. “Heeeyy, it’s been forever! What’s up, man?” His voice had a weirdly familiar inflection that was definitely different from how he talked before, but Finn wasn’t entirely sure where to place it. But Finn’s attention was directed elsewhere. Absent in the frame of the video feed was Tyler’s shoulders, which were pushed out of sight but framed his newly slightly muscled frame, covered only by a loose shirt with its sleeves and sides cut out, showcasing the edges of his lats and pecs. Finn couldn’t believe it — Tyler had gone through a crazy transformation, looking less like the scrawny nerd he left him and more like the athlete his father wished he’d been. What happened to him since Finn had left for the internship just two months ago? “Helllooo. Shit, am I lagging or something?” Finn shook his head as he pulled himself out of his thoughts. “I’m here! I’m here,” Finn said, trying to take in the sight. He could barely articulate, being distracted at what his friend had become. “Hi. Sorry I’ve been so busy; I was bored since I finally had some time to kill and thought I’d call. I’d ask how you are, but you look like you’ve been doing… good. Real good.” Cutting through Finn’s awkward chuckle, a grin stretched across Tyler’s face. “Oh man, you mean this?” The camera got tilted to the right as Tyler’s arm flung up into a flexing pose, a prominent bicep peak straining against his skin as veins bulged around. His face came back into view as he relaxed his arm, an irritating cocky expression on his face. “Phew. Yeah, I kinda started hitting the gym while you were doing your thing in the big city.” His words carried an uncharacteristically brash energy. Finn’s jaw almost dropped at the sight. Where the hell did this come from? Despite the weird shift in his attitude, Finn had to admit Tyler was looking good. “Damn. Did your dad finally get to you?” Tyler laughed. “Not exactly. I just decided to stop being a bitch and start getting tough.” The expression on Finn’s face shifted a little, his brow slowly raising with his smile not as strong. “You know you could’ve just said you wanted to get stronger.” Finn was not amused. “Hey, it’s just a joke,” Tyler said playfully. “No yeah, that’s the one. I mean, there were like a bunch of reasons though, like I got a job at the gym and I kinda got swept up in…” “...The ‘Green Wave’?” Tyler’s eyes widened before he brought the camera closer to his face, looking around before speaking again, as if he wasn’t home alone at this time of day. “Yooo…” His voice was lower, like he was trying not to let anyone else hear. “You’re in that too? You gonna go full Gamma, bro?” He was talking like Finn knew what he was talking about. The look in Tyler’s eyes made it look like he was begging for validation, hoping that Finn was one of “them.” Who “them” was exactly was still unknown to Finn, but his catch-up call was turning out more relevant than he realized it would be. “I… I just heard about it a couple days ago,” Finn lied, trying to maintain a cool tone and contain his immediate urge to go on with a barrage of questions. “I think I wanna look more into it but don’t know much… But it sounds like you know more than me.” “Nah, I don’t know much,” Tyler said, relaxing a little bit. “I just got into it a few months ago. I’m just hyped I finally met someone else who can understand my Hulkhood journey, bro.” “A few months ago?” Ignoring the weird terminology popping up again, Finn tried to chart out the timeline. This meant that he must’ve gotten hooked… “Like a little before you left, I started getting Green Wave stuff on my TikKot and Britter feeds. I thought it was a bunch of bullshit, so I used to just scroll past it as soon as I could recognize what it was…” Tyler shook his head and grinned, as if he was recalling naivete. “Just a few days after you left for the big city, my feeds were completely swamped with the Green Wave. I tried avoiding social media for a couple days but I decided I should just check some of these people out. Understand what they’re saying so I knew what I was up against.” Finn interjected. “But it didn’t turn out that way.” “Nah, bro. I finally sat down and scrolled through. At first it was just dumb, filler shit. Then I started seeing more and I started understanding… Even though I hated them at the beginning, I just realized I didn’t fully disagree with them. Then I realized they kinda opened my eyes in a different way. Like fuck, they’re right, there’s a Hulk inside me waiting to be unleashed…” Finn shifted uncomfortably as he saw Tyler stare off into the distance, biting his lip, his arm moving in a way that suggested him adjusting a half-hard dick. (Or was that just Finn’s imagination?) “Remember how I got hired at the gym and they never gave me a schedule? I guess I was a seasonal hire and didn’t realize it, ‘cause the next week they finally had me working in the gym. And that’s also when I actually started working out too. By Wednesday I’d woken up to the sound of my Gamma Protein being delivered to my door.” “That’s a fast change.” “That’s what my dad said.” A smirk came across Tyler’s face. “Imagine the look on his face when he saw me walking in and finally noticing the gains. The growth. I told him I was serious about this shit. He sent me some Green Wave videos he didn’t even realize was Green Wave stuff, which just cemented this shit for me even more. We started bonding again, to be honest. Bro, he ordered me a tub of the Gamma Labs protein powder, and it came in yesterday.” “That’s it?” Finn tried to imagine himself witnessing the changes in real time, but it all still seemed a bit too unrealistic. Too drastic. Tyler nodded. “Look, I don’t give a fuck what everyone else says, bro. They’re just haters. They just don’t understand what it feels to finally be free and know it.” Finn grimaced at the wording. “You make it sound almost like a cult.” “It’s not, I swear! It’s just opened my eyes, a little, you know?” “What is it, then? Like what exactly is the Green Wave?” “It’s just…” “Just what?” “I don’t know how to explain it, bro.” “Well try! How can you not explain it after 3 months?” Finn’s neutral, friendly tone broke for a moment, sounding more forceful and irritated. Tyler just chuckled before taking a hard look at Finn, almost studying him. “Look man, if you’re that curious, you gotta check it out yourself. I think you’ll resonate with it, bro.” Finn could’ve sworn Tyler’s brown eyes looked a lil green as the light hit them. He blinked, and the green was gone. After the call, Finn got dinner: some spicy tofu dish and fresh greens from the Chinese place around the corner. The whole time, Finn couldn’t stop thinking about his chat with Tyler. It just seemed a little strange that Tyler had slipped into it and changed so quickly. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to get sucked in just by watching some random videos online. That’s not to say that Tyler didn’t seem happy or like he was taking care of himself, it’s just… A weird shift. He was missing something. When he went to bed that night, it weighed on his mind. This didn’t seem very interesting at first, but seeing Tyler talk and carry himself the way he did seemed a little sobering. He did want to understand. As he laid there, earbuds in, he decided to do a deep dive once again. He pulled up his burner account on TikKot once again, hoping that maybe a couple more scrolls could illuminate his friend’s motivations now. Instead, Finn was disappointed to find that his new scrolls weren’t bringing up anything new — just the same kind of generic motivation edits and short videos of people trying to show off their progress in the gym. There was nothing new. Nothing interesting. Nothing provocative. And so he eventually slipped into his sleep. It was too boring. With his earbuds still inside, the noise of his feed continued to fill his ears, dumping its cacophony unprocessed. Words whispered into his ears began to sound like Tyler’s voice, echoing what he said before: “a Hulk inside waiting to be unleashed…” — “GET THE FUCK OFF YOUR ASS AND START MOVING, LITTLE BITCH.” The loud, bass-y voice suddenly blared in his ears, startling him out of a deep sleep and back to consciousness. Finn nearly had a heart attack. He immediately pulled his earbuds out and threw them across his bed. Palming and massaging his face with both hands, trying to rouse himself awake, he struggled to reorient himself. He felt well rested yet restless. Looking down, feeling a dampness around his neck and chest, he was shocked to see his shirt was actually drenched, as if he’d run a marathon in his sleep. And at the back of his head, a hazy, tingly sensation as he tried to shake the ‘sleep’ off. Feeling around his bed, he finally picked up his concerningly warm phone, playing a short clip from some podcast on TikKot. Then he looked down at the caption — tagged with #greenwave — and username behind the clip — “Intelligencia Pod”. He didn’t see this account yesterday despite his diligent searching and decided to screenshot it for his later reference. “Geez, I must have left it on auto-scroll all night…” Finn muttered. Then he looked to see his phone’s battery — at an abysmal 11% — and the time, evoking a horrendous horror — “Holy fuck, I’m already 6 minutes late?” Finn rushed to beat the clock. He typically had a whole morning routine and never missed it. Now, he had to skip it, instead rushing to brush his teeth and wash his face, foregoing the shower in favor of cologne and body spray he never even knew he had, and quickly throwing on the first clothes he could find before making his way to the office. What he didn’t notice as he rushed in the bathroom, was his phone, still open to TikKot, scrolling on automatic once again, passing a few seemingly ordinary clips. Maybe if Finn had lingered a while longer he would’ve noticed words flashing on the screen, with binaural beats and subliminals pulsating through the speakers. — Today was going to be a long day. “Are you okay, Finn?” He looked up to see Marty, his mentor popping by his desk for the fourth time that day. Finn tried to dust himself off, an attempt to make himself look more presentable in spite of his disheveled experience. “Yeah, yeah, I’m great. Why?” “Just checking,” Marty said. “You just came in late, looking a lil rough this morning. I’d never seen you show up like that.” “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh… Just overslept my alarms a little bit. I really am fine, though.” “Really?” It was true. Despite his bad start to the day, Finn was strangely feeling more energetic and eager to seize the day. He hadn’t felt this motivated in months. The only issue was that with the energy seemed to be a lack of focus. He was getting distracted from his work, his mind and fingers always making their way to TikKot on his phone before he stopped himself. Marty gave Finn a long hard look before he sighed. “You know what? Take the afternoon off.” Finn’s head snapped over. “Take the afternoon off?” “You’re one of the best interns this firm has ever had, and the longest one we’ve ever retained. It’s beyond worrying to see a bright star like you so off your game today.” “But I need the hours! Seriously, I’m fine,” Finn protested. “I can clean myself up for the rest of the day. I need to be here.” Marty shook his head. “You can stay til lunch, but I want you to rest. Don’t worry about your hours — consider it a fully paid half day. You deserve a break, kid.” With the rest of his day cleared, Finn was left with nothing to do. It was only at this point he’d started to realize that his life was empty; his weekday cycle was just waking up, working, eating, then sleeping. He hadn’t a clue of what to do til he stepped into the breakroom. He was idly pacing around the room as he contemplated grabbing one of the donuts left out by one of his coworkers when he jumped at the sound of the door creaking open. In a panic, he scrambled to look like he was in the middle of some meaningful action, maybe about to grab a donut, before he saw who was at the door. Walking in was a guy not much older than Finn, standing much taller than him at 6’2”, his dark sandy blond hair cut to a short cropped undercut, his cool gray eyes wandering around the room before settling on Finn. His stoic expression shifted to accommodate a slight grin as he nodded to the intern. His plain office-appropriate shirt and tie did little to conceal the young man’s physique, only sparing spectators the details of the precise angles of his muscle insertions while betraying the shape and density of his muscles. “‘Sup, Finn,” he said plainly. “Hi Brian,” Finn muttered. Brian had been brought on as the firm’s newest junior associate just as the internship season had picked up, hired straight out of college somewhere in South Carolina. Finn hadn’t paid him much mind at all, barely prodding anyone with questions and never questioning how little the two crossed paths, if they’d even see each other. He wasn’t one for stereotypes, but Finn just thought Brian had that look to him that said they wouldn’t quite… align, so to speak. Brian looked like the type of guy that would be on the other side of his issues. Coupled with his apparent lack of enthusiasm for progress and his masculine bravado, Finn just steered away. He wasn’t his kind of crowd. But today, Finn was ogling him. He felt drawn to him. “So, uh… You’re grabbing a donut, huh?” “Nah.” Brian walked past him to the office fridge and opening it. “Just getting some protein in.” He reached in and pulled out a bottle of Gamma Labs Mass Milk, with its unassuming white packaging and a deep green cap. “Right.” Finn sheepishly withdrew his hand, as if not to let his habits offend the gymgoer in the room. A distinct snap sounded through the room as Brian quickly and forcefully opened the bottle. “So you taking an early lunch?” Finn shook his head and lightly chuckled. “No, I… Well, Marty let me take the rest of the day off. I’m just hanging out in here before I go.” He shuffled to the side, allowing a clear path from Brian to the door. “Oh! Sweet,” Brian said simply. Finn was waiting for him to leave, but the tall associate instead pulled a chair beside him, angling it towards Finn before sitting in it. His legs were spread casually, his left elbow resting on the table looking up at Finn. It felt like Brian was fucking with him honestly, but Finn was feeling confused more than anything. Why is this guy entertaining a conversation with him? Brian took a gulp of milk, a loud ‘glug’ sound unnerving Finn. “So what’s your plan for the rest of the day?” “I don’t know. I don’t really do much since the internship usually takes up so much time…” Finn felt so awkward talking. Even as he did, his eyes were glued to Brian setting the milk bottle down as he tilted his thick neck, stretching it and showing off the striations of his subtle traps — then lifting an arm to scratch the back of his head, as his white shirt slightly tightened around his biceps and shoulders before he relaxed. “Really?” Brian leaned forward, letting Finn take in the broadness and width of his shoulders and the way his shirt hugged his chest. “You look like you’d have a lot of hobbies. I thought a guy like you would be like… a painter or some shit.” The mild stereotyping would’ve ordinarily annoyed Finn, but he had no place to talk since he categorized Brian as one of those entitled jock types. “Well I used to skate, but I…” Finn watched the slight flex of Brian’s bicep as he went to take another gulp of his milk. He hated that he was noticing all of this right now, but with Brian just there in his sight, he just couldn’t help but notice. He ended up wondering if… “I… gotta hit the gym.” “Huh.” Brian’s eyes lit up at Finn’s words, and he stopped himself from taking another sip. He looked Finn up and down, almost studying him. “I never took you for someone who lifts. That sleeper build must be fucking crazy, dude.” It took a moment for Finn to fully process what Brian was implying before he exclaimed, “No, no, no. I mean like... I’m interested in maybe starting to hit the gym. Not that it’s on my schedule. It’s just been on his mind, like maybe I should start going…” Finn’s brown eyes were wide as he talked. He honestly didn’t know what he was talking about himself — what he was saying was a total fabrication just to make himself seem relatable or on the same level. But he’s usually not afraid to say it: that’s not his crowd. “That’s what’s up,” Brian affirmed, his voice taking on a more casual and irritatingly familiar fratty cadence. He kept his eyes locked on Finn, looking him up and down before speaking again. “Hey, uh. I’m gonna be off in a couple hours actually. If you’re down for it, you could come to my gym.” Panic. “No, it’s okay,” Finn said quickly. “I’m heading home after this, I’m down by 87th and 52nd…” “That’s perfect!” Brian’s eyes lit up even more. “I go to Phelps Fitness on 87th and 50th. It’s the one that used to be Energy Gym, but some chain bought it out.” “But for me — I just don’t know if it’s for me. Like I’ve never even touched a weight,” Finn tried to reason. His bashfulness was genuine, and he was quickly realizing he should’ve just admitted that he didn’t give a fuck about the gym. Brian instead took it as a challenge. “That’s just fear, dude. Fear is what keeps men like you and me from reaching our potential.” He stood up as he crushed the rest of the milk. “Come on! You said you were interested. Just tag along, I can show you a couple workouts, then you can decide whether or not it’s for you. Deal?” This was far from anything Finn would seek out for himself. He’s a proud bookworm, armed with political theory and psychology. After all, the pen is mightier than the sword. Plus he has his fill of physical activity in his walks around the city. But in the back of his head, a voice was pushing him to try — plus he had no excuse not to. Finn couldn’t place exactly why he felt uncomfortable feeling the urge, or where the urge had come from. Years of lack of interest suddenly flipped to a cautious interest. Not that there was anything wrong with it. It’s good to want to be stronger after all. Finn looked up to Brian. “Sure,” he said, looking a little confused by his own decision. Something inside told him this was the right choice. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Brian grinned. “Hell yeah. Alright, I’ll message you or something. I’ll be out in a couple hours and let you know.” He extended his hand. Finn awkwardly reached forward to shake it, just for his business shake being subverted by Brian dapping him up before he left the room. All alone in the breakroom once again, Finn began to agonize over the idea of scrawny him struggling to bench just 10 pounds. A part of him wanted to be able to bench 10,000.

By the time Sam arrived in Florida, spring training was wrapping up. Kurt had spent the month down there working out with the team in their state-of-the-art facilities. He was bigger than ever. Since the end of the steroid era in baseball was long over, the average weight of the players was between 190 and 220 pounds. Next to Kurt, they looked like Little Leaguers. On the last day of training, Kurt brought Sam to the locker room. Most of the players recognized Sam from TV back home, and one them asked Sam if he was as freaky strong as Kurt. Sam grabbed an aluminum practice bat from an equipment bag. His 22” arms bent it easily. “Close,” he said. Then Kurt picked out two baseballs, one in each hand, wrapped them in his big fingers, and crushed down until the stitching popped and the balls were mashed into handfuls of frayed wool and crumbling cork. “But not too close,” he said. “Showoff,” said the team’s big catcher, as he swaggered by, naked, fresh from the showers. Although nowhere near as big as Sam or Kurt, the swarthy athlete was a physical specimen of near perfection. Sam couldn’t help but admire the catcher’s plump ass as it rolled by, matted with damp, chestnut-colored fur, and the way his broad shoulders swayed back and forth, all cocksure from a whole lifetime of being exceptionally good at sports. “Come on, freakshow, give us one more look,” said another player to Kurt. The huge sportscaster didn’t need much coaxing. He stripped off his polo and started flexing. Clearly he had done this for them before. As the team hooted and hollered at Kurt’s 25” arms, the third baseman called out, “Come on, Weatherman, show us what you got.” Sam grinned, then unbuttoned his 5XL Tommy Bahama shirt and peeled it back, exposing his giant pecs, covered with the golden stubble of his chest hair, growing back in since his contest. As he flexed his chest, one of the outfielders said, “Christ, he’s got better tits than my ex-wife!” Everyone laughed. Then Sam flexed his abdominals. His abs popped to attention. “Look at those fucking bricks,” said the shortstop. “You gotta share your ab workout with Simmons over there.” Everyone looked over at the left fielder, who had gotten a little thick thru the middle during the off season. “Very funny, Ruiz. Why don’t you strip down and see how you compare to these two?” Ruiz took the dare, and made a big show of peeling off his shirt, then wedging his way between the two bigger men. He start posing, and although he was a good-sized guy, with the solid build of a young pro athlete, he looked comically small between Sam and Kurt. But he did have the whole room cracking up at his goofy flexing. And then not to be outdone, Kurt undid his pants and pulled them down over his powerlifter thighs that were inches bigger than any of the players’ waists. As he flexed his highly developed quads, the locker room grew hushed by awe. Some of the men gulped. These guys were not used to feelings of inadequacy, but they were having them now, especially when they got a look at the bulge in Kurt’s briefs. Ruiz stepped back to get a better view, and Kurt put one leg forward and flexed it hard. All the beefy thigh meat tightened up like concrete. A mystical aura swept thru the room like an electric charge. The men felt the charge like a religious epiphany, and the desire to worship at the altar of massive muscle overtook them, the two superior physiques in front of them became their gods, one a square-jawed Nordic supreme being, the other, a powerlifting juggernaut of Bunyanesque proportions. The room became a chapel of muscle lust. “Jesucristo,” muttered Ruiz as he started to touch himself. Other players gathered around him in a semicircle, most of them already stroking. Sam stripped down naked and did a vacuum pose, and the sight of a 320lb bodybuilder with a 34” carved waistline made the first baseman shoot his load without even touching himself. Kurt hit his most-muscular pose, and two more players let it fly. Then he and Sam turned around and spread their backs, flaring their huge lats at the team. The two men felt hot jizz spewing all over their backsides. When Kurt turned around and pulled out his own dick, letting it flop out in front of him, the rest of the team sprayed the locker room with their jock spunk. Then Sam turned around and saw cum running down lockers and dripping off the ceiling like melting stalactites. He hit a side chest shot, his pecs ballooned out, and three of the players fell to their knees. Just then, the strength coach walked in. When his feet hit the slicked up floor, he slid halfway across the room and slammed into a locker. “What the…” he stammered, and as he turned around, Kurt ambled over to him, and the aura hit the coach like a freight train. By the time he sat down on a bench, his dick was hardening. Kurt loomed over him, huge and hairy. The coach had never seen someone so big and powerful, even though he’d been a strength coach for professional athletes for the past twelve years. And with Kurt just inches from his face, the coach could smell him, feel his body heat. He felt disoriented. He reached out and put his hands on Kurt’s tree trunk thighs, and became unaware of anyone else in the room. Kurt flexed his legs, and the coach had a transcendent experience as he felt power that he thought no human could ever achieve. Kurt lifted him up and rubbed the coach’s face in his thick chest fur. “Who’s your daddy?” Kurt whispered in a baritone that rumbled thru his barrel chest. The coach’s body twitched like a marionette, as he ecstatically came in his lifting shorts. Kurt laid him down on a bench, then he and Sam headed to the showers. The players rallied together to mop and clean the locker room. Two of them carried the strength coach, who was twitching catatonically, to the training area and plopped him into the ice bath. He went under briefly, then came up gasping, his muscle trance broken. After Sam and Kurt left, the players didn’t talk about what had happened, but they knew they had shared an experience that transcended baseball. The two massive musclemen then drove down to South Beach. They caused quite a stir by jogging along the shoreline in their made-to-fit posers, specially created for their oversized glutes and equipment, exposing most of their combined 745lbs of beef, a pair of Nietzschean supermen on full display. Running their way north, faster and faster, they flew past a group of jogging Crossfitters at twice their pace. They flew past hordes of spring breakers, deftly dodging their way around stoned frat bros, who stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of the two huge musclemen sprinting their way along the surf. The duo bulldozed their way up to Haulover Beach, where they stripped off their posers and charged into the ocean like two naked rhinos. They groped each other up, jacked from their nine mile run, and, as rough waves crashed over them, they made ‘sex on the beach’ mean more than just a drink. Afterwards, they grabbed their posers and tugged them over their huge legs, stuffing themselves into them. Energized by their ocean romp, the decided to swim the nine miles back to South Beach. They swam hard and fast, jostled by the big waves. By the time they emerged from the surf, their muscles were engorged with pump. As they made their way up the beach and over to the open air gym on the sand, they heard stunned beach goers gasping at the sight of them. Even in the rarefied world of physical beauty like South Beach, they stood out like Olympic gods. At the beach gym, Kurt and Sam did bodyweight exercises, starting with set after set of one armed pull-ups. Kurt’s 425lbs bent the bar permanently. A crowd gathered as they did parallel bar handstand push-ups for sets of fifty. They challenged onlooking bodybuilders in the crowd to try and hold their legs down as they did hanging leg lifts. They pumped out rep after rep with two big men pulling down on each leg, their powerfully developed ab muscles lifting the men like ten pound ankle weights. They had the same men hang from them as they did parallel bar dips until their chests were absurdly extended with pump. After that, they did wind sprints up and down the sandy beach with the same men hanging to their necks. When they were done, the two behemoths waddled to their rental car, almost immobile with pump. They forced themselves into clothes, then stuffed themselves into the car and drove to the Epic hotel, where they got a suite for the night. They ordered up $400 worth of food from room service. After they ate, they stripped down and collapsed onto the king-sized bed and fell into a deep slumber. During the night, their muscles grew. By the morning, they woke up bigger and stronger than ever. They stayed in Miami for a week, and hit the beach every day. Every night, they ate at a different Brazilian churrasco steakhouse, and gorged themselves on the ‘all you can eat’ offerings of huge skewers of various meats. The waitstaff eagerly shaved off big slabs of meat for them, especially when Sam and Kurt obliged them with a flex of their biceps, Sam’s now at 23”, Kurt’s at 27. In a city full of beautiful faces and bodies, the two huge men were standouts. The restaurants’ managers were happy when the gringos gigantes left, but the servers hated to see them go, with their voracious appetites and generous tips. By week’s end, the two massive amigos had each gained 20 pounds. “You ready to head home?” Kurt asked, as they lounged by the pool on their last day in Miami. “Yeah. It’s probably past time to check in on Hank.” “You think he’s still there?” “Dude, I’m hoping the barn is still there.”

Longer one, hope you enjoy! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 5: Summer break arrived, grim as a prison sentence. To be away from Frank for mere hours felt like torture. Especially now that I was a full-blown roid pig, and my sex drive was insatiable. How was I going to survive back home for three months? For his part, Frank was just as upset. He had to stay on campus for football training — same dorm room, no me. “Will you promise me something?” he asked on my last day, as we lay in bed together. I was tracing my fingers through the violent grooves of his eight pack. “Of course, what is it?” I was expecting him to ask me to remain faithful, to not mess around with other guys. Now that I looked like this, I attracted leers anywhere I went, from men and women alike. Everyone wanted me. But that’s not what Frank was talking about. “Don’t stop lifting and growing this summer,” he said. “I want to see you get even bigger. I want you to keep eating, keep cycling. Stay focused on muscle all summer. All day, every day. Come back even bigger than you are now. Come back so big, people will gasp when they see you. So big they won’t even recognize you. James, your body has already responded better than I had hoped. You’re a hunk now, but I can make you a freak. A muscle freak. So huge. We’ll make you so big. 290, maybe even 300 pounds. Oh my god bro... Fuck....Big as a pro bodybuilder. Bigger. The two of us. Waddling around campus. Fucking and fucking nonstop. Two muscle freaks. One tall, one short. Sex every hour. All that muscle. Muscle, sex. Roids. Fucking beasts. Huge. So huge. Muscle, big muscle, so strong, so much muscle, so much musc-- oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck James! I can’t handle it. Holy shit! UNHHHH!” Frank grabbed behind my neck with one huge hand, and stuck his tongue down my mouth forcefully. At the same moment, his dick sprayed a huge load without warning or even any touch. Rope after rope shot up and landed in Frank’s beard and on his veiny neck. I counted 8 ropes! All while he kissed me passionately -- almost desperately. This happened anytime Frank talked about my muscle growth. Nothing turned him on more, not even his own muscular development. The second he started to envision me growing bigger, he'd burn beet red, wheeze loudly. His eyes would unfocus and look manic. His cock would shoot up as fast as a soldier's salute. As a rule, he'd eventually devolve into muttering "muscle" over and over again, like an incantation, until he came spontaneously. These would always be his biggest loads (which is really saying something). Each time Frank spiraled like this, his fantasies got more extreme. First it was bulking me up to 230 pounds, now it was 300. Of course, I couldn't have been more turned on either. I loved watching him lose control like this. I also started to realize that these fantasies could actually become a reality. I was almost 19, and already 225 pounds. To become a genuine mass monster, even a professional bodybuilder, suddenly felt plausible, especially while Frank was around. Laying beside him, I stroked my bulging pecs, arms, shoulders, quads, glutes... I was still blown away by their size. I soon came a load almost as large as Frank's. His fantasy was now my reality, my goal. -- So I had my marching orders for the summer. I also had (thanks to Frank) a year's worth of tren packed in my suitcase. With a heavy heart, it was time for me to head home. We had one last, incredible fuck session. Then another one. Then another one. Then finally, realizing I was about to miss my flight, I called an Uber and dashed off. Frank's dry cum still coated me underneath my super-tight clothes. The aroma of his pits was on my face in the cab, which gave me a throbbing boner the entire ride to the airport. I was 5'9, 18 y/o, 225 pounds. Tight denim jeans tearing inside the crotch. Light blue college t-shirt so tight you could see every ridge of my abs, both my nipples, my thick upper pecs almost touching my chin. Whenever I glanced at my reflection in a mirror or window, I was astonished at how wide I looked -- and also how obscene. Like a bodybuilder in the first minute of a gay porno, wearing ridiculous, undersized clothes. Stares from every direction as I rushed through the airport to board my plane. The gay flight attendant did a double take when he welcomed me on board. For a second, his mouth was agape. I winked, and he went red. I knew I looked like a fantasy cooked up in a lab. I approached my seat. A small, nerdy kid with glasses my same age -- no doubt on his way home from college as well -- regarded me with terror. I weighed a hundred pounds more than him, even though we were about the same height. As I stretched to stow my bag in the overhead bin, my tight shirt left my slightly hairy, washboard abs exposed. My bulging crotch was one inch from the kid's face. I'm sure he could smell the cum and sweat inside. I sat down beside him, my weight shaking the plane seat. All the color drained from his cheeks. The plane took off. The cabin lights dimmed, and almost everyone fell asleep. This was my first time in a plane seat since my "growth spurt." My shoulders and arms jutted well into the nerd's personal space. My hard tricep rubbed against his sad, noodley arm. I kept thinking how, just six months ago, I was this geek's size. We were probably the exact same age, yet I could do military presses with his body and not even break a sweat. Maybe even with one arm. I thought: Should I apologize for how much space I was taking up? I really was encroaching a full quarter into his seat. My bulging shoulder was digging into his tiny body. (The other one jutted into the aisle, so no one could pass by without brushing it.) My arm wasn't even on the arm rest, that's how wide I was. Then I noticed that the nerd was awkwardly covering up a boner in his lap. "Heh," I laughed under my breath. I turned my bulging neck and looked him in the eyes. I winked. He went as red as a firetruck. Now I was feeling arrogant. Discreetly, without anyone noticing, I grabbed his wrist and laid it on my bicep. I flexed, and the little nerd squeezed as hard as he could. (Not very.) Then I guided his tiny arm up under my shirt. I let him feel my pecs. I bounced them up and down as he groped them pathetically. His grip suddenly weakened. "Uff!" he whimpered. I saw a dark spot growing in his pants. My huge muscles had just made him cum. "Good boy," I whispered, and pushed him away, before anyone noticed. Fun as this mile-high muscle worship was, I was already missing Frank. I scrolled through the hundreds of X-rated pictures and videos of him on my phone, both heartbroken and incredibly aroused. Pics of us together when I was just 180 pounds, and he was 375. Videos of me pounding him doggy style, his back muscles jiggling. I could feel the nerd's prying eyes on my screen. I stumbled upon a recent, shirtless, chest-up picture of Frank, from his 430-pound era. He was smiling, as handsome as a movie star, but his furry pecs and shoulders looked so shockingly pumped that the nerd gasped. "Your...boyfriend?" he asked meekly. "You could say that," I replied. "Oh my God. He's... huge," he whispered, looking at Frank's picture in disbelief. He was spellbound. Now I had a painful erection. I lowered the seat back tray to hide it. But my heart was heavy. Three months apart. It sunk in. What if Frank found someone new? Someone even bigger than me? Vague jealousy burned like flames in my mind. I felt more motivated than ever to grow this summer. I'd come back so huge that Frank would be shocked, so big he could never find someone hotter than me. So big, so fucking big, so much muscle... my mind looped and looped, just like Frank's. Maybe it was the tren. The nerd watched as I took out a two-pound Tupperware container. Ground chicken, brown rice. 120 grams protein. It was a four-hour flight, and I had three of these meals to eat. -- To say my parents were horrified would be an understatement. At the airport, they didn't even recognize me at first. "It's me, it's James," I assured them. Even my voice was deepened by the roids. They hugged me like I was a science-fiction monster, confused and alarmed. You have to remember that the last time they had seen me, just six months prior, I was a lean, 155-pound kid. Now I was 225 pounds. I had told them I was bigger, that I'd been lifting, but not much else. Now, their charming, sensitive, academically inclined son was a roided-out meathead, more muscular than a Chippendale's dancer. Voice deeper, face wider but still jarringly boyish on a thick neck that stretched my shirt collar. Obscene, veiny muscles bulging everywhere -- ass, shoulders, pecs, arms, traps -- beastly, erotic bulges attracting stares from all corners. The next few days were pretty awful. Long fights ensued. Vehement lectures about the dangers of steroids (which I denied using, lol). Insistence that I see a psychiatrist for "bigorexia." But I knew what body dysmorphia was, and I didn't have it. I didn't think I was small. I thought I was huge. And I loved it. And now the only thing I wanted was to get bigger. All my parents’ anxieties and pressure didn’t amount to much when I thought of the sweaty, hairy, 430-pound muscle bottom that was waiting for me back at school. Frank’s special kind of madness had infected me. Logical reason fell by the wayside. All that mattered anymore was muscle and sex. With horror, it dawned on my parents that not only had I transformed utterly...I wasn't finished yet! I hadn't lined up a single thing to do that summer except train and eat and cycle on more and more gear. No internship, no summer job, no friends or social life even. Just gym and consuming shocking amounts of protein, day in, day out. Every now and then, I might come across a hulking gorilla at the gym or on Grindr, and I'd fuck their brains out. But those were my only, occasional distractions. If that was cheating on Frank, then it hardly counted, because Frank had spoiled me for sex. Guys smaller than 230 pounds no longer interested me -- and even when I found a roided-out muscle bottom, he'd never have a cock as massive and beautiful as Frank's was, or a face as handsome, or lips as soft. By my 19th birthday, late in June, I was 235 -- up a full ten pounds from my last weigh-in, and yet leaner and more defined than ever. My parents pretty much cut me off. They'd still pay for college in the fall, they said, but they didn't want to underwrite the money I was spending on food and new clothes and probably steroids that summer. Yet I soon realized that I could make a fortune doing cam shows, just flexing and jerking off for ridiculous rates, and could even raise my prices as I grew bigger and freakier each week. (Being hung didn’t hurt either.) So money became a non-issue. It poured in. In fact, I was making more than my parents did, unbeknownst to them. By early August, I was 250 pounds, a number that shocked even me. By then, my largest shirts fit like crop tops and left my well-defined abs exposed. Finally, my parents put their foot down. Either I see a psychiatrist, or they would stop paying my tuition. Reluctantly, I agreed. Through a stroke of luck, this ultimatum totally backfired on them. Within seconds of meeting my handsome, 30-something psychiatrist ("call me Justin") I realized he was gay. I could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure as he looked me up and down. As soon as the door of his office closed, I literally tore off my shirt. I practically leapt over his desk and shoved his face in between my pecs, forced him to suck on my perfect nipples. I flexed a bicep (21 inches) and pushed it into his face. He moaned and slobbered all over my peak, then huffed my musky pits. I swiped all the stuff off his desk -- it crashed on the floor -- and I roughly laid him out on the surface. I picked him up and started doing military presses with his body, over and over, with perfect form. I could tell from the bulge in his pants how much he was loving my show of strength. Then I laid him down on the chaise lounge (where I was supposed to be in therapy). I sat on his face, and enjoyed the frantic, overwhelmed way he ate out my bubble butt, no doubt the most muscular one he had ever seen. The shrink quickly came in his nice slacks. But I wasn't through with him. I flipped around and shoved my 8-inch cock down his throat. At first he nearly choked, but eventually managed to suck me dry. My load was enormous. All this worship had made me more horned up than I'd been in months. I started to put my tattered, indecent clothes back on. "That's all the time we have for today," I joked as I walked out the door -- knowing he'd never forget how good my ass looked as I left. -- A few days later, I overheard Dr. Justin debriefing my parents on our session on speakerphone. "Mr. and Mrs. Keller, you have nothing to worry about. James shows no signs of body dysmorphia or any other psychiatric disorder. Bodybuilding is a perfectly legitimate sport, and you should be encouraging James for his dedication and hard work. In fact, I'm a little disappointed that you have been so dismissive of James's athletic goals." My mom fell for it, hook, line and sinker. "Oh, God, you're right. How could we have been so unsupportive? I feel terrible." But my dad raged. "Encouraging THIS!? But the boy looks like a FREAK!" “Mr. Keller, I don’t think words like ‘freak’ are helpful here.” "Honey, listen to the doctor. We need to support James." "But what about the steroids?!" "In my medical opinion, I see no signs that James is abusing steroids. After speaking with him, it is my belief that he simply has excellent adherence to his diet and exercise regimen -- as well as a genetic predisposition for muscular hypertrophy." "BUT HE'S GROWING FIVE POUNDS A WEEK! THE KID HAS 21-INCH ARMS!" "Ron! Don't second-guess the doctor. He's the expert here." "Well, all of this being said, I do think James would benefit from continuing therapy. Maybe you could send him back to my office?" -- Although my dad wasn't happy, that was the end of the fighting. My parents yielded to my increasingly extreme lifestyle and size. Emboldened, I dramatically increased my tren and macros, and by the end of the summer, I was teetering at 265 pounds, up a full 40 pounds since June, and 110 pounds since January. I wasn't just training my muscles… As long as I'd known Frank, I'd never been able to bottom for him. His 10.5" dick was too much for me. I couldn’t even get it inside me. So all summer, I was practicing with bigger and bigger toys, getting ready to ride his almost fist-sized cock the day we reunited. Even though Frank was on my mind constantly, we hadn't corresponded much. It was pointless to text or call him. He lived in the moment, whether lifting or eating or fucking or practicing, and barely looked at his phone. The messages I sent would sit unread for days, driving me into a frenzy of insecurity. The few messages I got back were dashed off in pidgin English. ("miss u 2 bro, iam jo 2u rn. still growin??") Sometimes I thought he was barely literate. Plus, there was a tacit understanding between us that we didn't want to reveal too much. We both wanted to be shocked by each other's growth when we finally reunited in person. Imagine what Frank is going to think when he sees me. That was all I thought, day in and day out, as I pounded protein shakes, pushed barbells, and pegged myself in my locked bedroom. One hot August afternoon, as a twelve-inch dildo ripped through my bubble butt, I came the biggest load of the whole summer, picturing the shock on Frank's face when he'd finally see me next week. -- The day came. I was returning to college for sophomore year. Unlike my last flight, this time, I knew I was far too big to fly coach. I just wouldn't fit. So I used some of my cam money to upgrade to First Class. Even in the larger seats, my lats spilled out comically. A tank top, barely a scrap of fabric, left half my pecs and both nipples completely exposed. It was pretty fun to watch the other passengers trudge by, the look of shock on their faces when they saw a 265-pound, 19-year old bodybuilder looking back at them arrogantly. I made sure they all had to brush past my veiny arm, which jutted into the aisle. Especially the nerds around my age, whom I took special pleasure in intimidating. I didn't eat any of the First Class food, though. I brought seven pounds of ground beef and rice in three huge Tupperware containers. Spent most of the flight stuffing my face, trying not to leak too much pre-cum thinking about my growing muscles -- and of the furry, wheezing, waddling mass monster that was waiting for me back on campus. Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank. After I was done eating my Tupperware meals, I started rubbing my bulging chest, flexing my arms, turned on by my own mass. The other people in First Class glared at me. I’ll admit, my behavior and appearance were pretty shocking. My dick got so painfully hard that I needed to rub one out. I stuffed myself into the airplane bathroom, barely able to close the door. I felt like a sardine. Then I looked in the mirror. I almost came on the spot. I could not believe how massive I had become. I pulled my cock out of my sweatpants and flopped it on the tiny bathroom counter. I looked back at my reflection and immediately orgasmed. I sprayed a load all over the little sink and mirror. I flexed for a few more minutes, totally stunned. I half-heartedly cleaned up the mess, then waddled back to my seat to drink a protein shake. — My flight had been delayed, and I got to our dorm quite late -- almost 2am. Everyone on campus was asleep. I stood outside our door. New year, same little cinder-block dorm room. We had pulled some strings to stay paired together another year. My heart pounded. I was completely hard. Just imagine what Frank will think when he sees me. Even as I reached for the door handle, the enlarged size of my veiny forearm caught my eye. A warm feeling surged through my cock. The room was pitch black. I heard Frank’s typical snoring and closed the door quietly, trying not to wake him. The scent of sweat and muscle and cum was overpowering, like a smack in the face. It conjured the countless fuckfests we'd had in the room over the past year. My dick throbbed with pleasure and anticipation. I even started moaning out loud, that's how horned up I felt. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. I realized the mattress was on the floor for some reason, no bed frame -- and the huge, dark mound on the mattress must be Frank. I set my bag down, then peeled off my clothes silently. Now I was completely naked. My dick was pulsating from Frank's pheromones and my months of waiting. I tiptoed towards the mattress in the center of the room, stepping on jock-straps, cum-stained bodybuilding mags, empty vials of tren... Same loud snores. Frank could sleep through anything. I climbed into bed with him. I got under the covers. I nestled next to him, so I was big spoon. Frank's naked body felt molten hot as I ran my fingers through his fur. Impossible to describe his scent. Even in the darkness, just tactilely, I could tell something was different. This was Frank, but this wasn't Frank's same body. For example, I cupped one of his shoulders with both of my hands, yet even two hands couldn't encompass his delt -- that's how enormous he was. Cuddling him from behind, I couldn't even reach around his lats; he was too wide. My fingers grew more restless as I realized he was far, far larger than the last time I saw him. In disbelief, I groped his sleeping muscles, squeezed his neck, caressed his beard, the stubble on the back of his head... Frank snorted loudly and flipped onto his back, almost crushing me in the process. But he didn't wake up. Frank started to talk in his sleep. "Fuck...Muscle bro...Fuckin' huge...Muscle...Freak...Musc..." he muttered. Then he resumed snoring even louder. Now I could feel his pecs. I delicately kneaded them, toyed with his sensitive nipples. ("Unnh!" Frank cried unconsciously.) Yes, they were much bigger too. Hard to tell how much bigger in the dark. I was in a silent frenzy. I could have cum right then and there. Yet I decided to reach down further. I felt it. Frank's 10.5" cock, as hot and hard as I had dreamed of it. I tasted some of the pre-cum that dribbled out. I had to do it. I had to ride him. I very quietly stood up, stripped the blanket off of his body. I squatted over Frank's cock and guided it into my massive bubble butt. I just used a bit of spit for lube. Even in his dreams, Frank was leaking so much pre that I didn't need much else. All the training I had subjected myself to that summer was leading here. Frank was still asleep as he entered me. I cried out in pain. Then the pain subsided and pleasure rushed over me like nothing I'd ever felt before. I slowly thrust up and down, taking more and more, until he was inside me up the hilt. I was legit crying tears of joy as Frank unwittingly tore through my ass -- feeling like the type of huge muscle bottom I'd always fantasized about. I started thrusting my ass faster and faster as I rode him. Then suddenly a change came over Frank. He didn't wake up, but some kind of animal spirit inside of him did. His super-strong hands clasped my waist, and suddenly he was thrusting harder and harder. Pounding me. "AHHHHH!" I screamed, unable to stay quiet any longer. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I roared with each thrust. The feeling was so intense, I was about to pass out. Then Frank truly woke up. "WHAT THE -- what the FUCK?" he yelled out in confusion as I rode his cock in the darkness. I must have looked like a huge dark shape bouncing up and down on his boner. "AH! AH! AH AH!" I moaned, incapable of even forming words. I was starting to black out, the room was receding, but I couldn't stop riding Frank. It felt too incredible. Then Frank groped for a lamp near the bed. He clicked it on. A blinding light filled the room. I realized why the mattress was on the floor. The wooden bed frame had evidently buckled -- its wreckage was piled in the corner of the dorm room. I looked down at Frank, he looked up at me. We saw each other for the first time in three months. All while 10.5 inches of him were inside me. I'll cut to the chase. Frank was 470 pounds. He had gained 40 pounds of mass that summer. His arms had grown to 26 inches. His furry pecs were so enormous that from my angle, riding him, they actually hid most of his face. His cheeks were fuller and his face was broader from all the gear, yet he was as handsome as ever, even with a stunned look in his eyes. Then you have to imagine Frank's POV, bright light suddenly on, looking up and seeing his roommate, now a 265-pound gorilla, riding his cock for the first time ever, pectorals and hard cock flopping up and down. "J--James?" "FRANK!" (In unison) "OH MY GOD! UNNNNNNNH!!!!" As his load GUSHED into my hole, mine exploded all over his mega-pecs and his beautiful face. The biggest load I'd ever produced. His face was completely coated, like a mask. We both came and came and came and came and came. Our muscles were shuddering and quivering post-orgasm. The harsh light of the bedside lamp made our bodies look all the more freakish and unreal. Two absolute monsters, roid pigs, 19 years old, 735 pounds of muscle between us. Frank's sensitive cock was still deep inside me, gushing warm sperm deeper and deeper. We locked eyes. Underneath a veil of cum, I could tell Frank was smiling devilishly. That was how our sophomore year began.

Hi guys. Here’s my new four-chapter story, with the setting being South Florida. The theme is what will probably become my usual, where a bodybuilder and a twink get sexually and romantically involved with each other. Hope you like it, and I would of course always appreciate any responses that you may have. Thanks, Dennis "CONDO HOOKUP" CHAPTER 1 Timmy was sitting at his desktop computer in his cramped apartment in a typically densely- populated beach city on the Gold Coast of Florida. A lot of his relaxing time at home was spent checking out the many bodybuilder sites. Today, he had one of his favorites open, something called Muscle Growth Forums, where he was about to look through all the gorgeous musclemen for his morning wank. Today he went to the ‘Morphed Guys & Skinny Guys’ thread which was of particular interest to him. He thought it was hot, loving the muscle-size differences between the two pictured handsome men shown. It often also showed the skinny guy touching the ripped bulging muscle of the handsome morphed bodybuilder. And sometimes they were even in an embrace. Gasp! What an ultimate fantasy that would be for Timmy. Yeah, he really looked forward to spending quality time doing just that now. But then he heard BZZZZZZ. “Shit,” Timmy thought. “Probably another solicitor calling me on my phone. I’ll put it on speaker to just hear their message if one was even left by them.” Solicitors rarely left messages, as they knew you were not going to call them back if they did. So, Timmy then went back to his very important activity of jerking his dick. Then the message came on…. “This is the Tahiti Sands calling to schedule your closing as well as the date for your move in. Please call us back at…” Timmy leaped for the phone, surrendering his most pleasurable pursuit to take this very important interruption. The new condominium had finally finished its construction and Timmy was so looking forward to being one of the first residents to move in. He had waited well over a year for its opening as he had purchased it during its preconstruction phase. He was thrilled that he would finally be living in the big glitzy apartment house that had a lot of amenities, including of course a pool and gym. Timmy was born Timothy Meijer in West Michigan, 39 years ago, of Dutch descent on his father’s side and Irish on his mother’s. Growing up blond and very cute, even beautiful some people said, got him lots of pinches of his cheeks from relatives. But at school it was the gay bullying that Timmy had often experienced and endured. By senior year of high school, he had grown to six feet tall, slim and very handsome. He kept the name ‘Timmy,’ preferring it to perhaps a more usual ‘Tim’ for adulthood. He got away from the high school abuse when he went off to a university in Florida, and never looked back. Sure, holidays were sometimes spent briefly in Michigan with family, but his home became where it was warmer in winter and where many areas of South Florida had very sizable gay populations. And it was where he was able to become a very successful model. His tall, slender, blond, very handsome look at South Beach shoots contrasted nicely with the perhaps more prevalent handsome Latino models. * After finally moving in and getting settled into his new apartment, Timmy explored the building, seeing the fancy social room for parties, the barbeque area, card room, game room, tennis and bocce courts, and then the Olympic size pool which was ‘manned’ by a full-time staff. The lifeguard there was a very attractive guy, but, after chatting with him a while, Timmy was not really interested in taking it a step further with potentially dating him. This lifeguard, unlike their usual reputation from some of the gay sex stories he read, really didn’t have the kind of muscle that got his juices flowing. The condo’s gym would be opening later that week, and there was much more muscle potential there, Timmy thought. And hoped. Soon after, on a day when the weather was very stormy and traveling perhaps somewhat dangerous, Timmy thought that it was now the perfect time to check out the gym. He took a quick shower, and then, as he was passing his bedroom’s full-length mirror, he gazed at himself for his usual critical assessment. He looked at his middle-aged slender body that was devoid of very much muscle, though he thought it was nicely toned. He also saw, and knew from professional experience and from casual admirers, that he was considered very handsome. He was hit on by men frequently because of that, but he rarely gave them a tumble. They were never muscle-guys, and Timmy just assumed that that was because they liked other muscle-guys and would not be interested in skinny him. Well, maybe with this very conveniently located gym downstairs he’ll be able to finally put on some muscle. He was determined to do mostly cardio, but with a mix of a little weight training. The latter was to perhaps get a better view of the potential muscle guys lifting nearby. And, if there was any eye candy there, that would keep him motivated to keep coming back. Actually, if he was being totally honest with himself, it was perhaps the only reason to go to the gym in the first place! Timmy scanned the large gym and did a quick perusal to see who else was there. It was a big building, and lots of people had moved in already, which was evidenced by how crowded the gym appeared. He looked around and saw a young heavy-set guy, a skinny older guy, three women who were chatting up a storm about their husbands or boyfriends, a married couple, an overweight guy, and several more skinny guys clustered near the wall. Everyone, it seemed, but his muscular Prince Charming. ‘Oh well, I guess I’ll start with the treadmill after I change,’ Timmy thought. ‘I’ll watch some television there and pass the time that way’. But wait! Timmy’s heart then immediately started leaping as he saw someone very interesting on the far side of the gym. Yes, a major muscle guy who had now made Timmy’s jaw drop. The guy was at the squat rack with an enormous amount of weight on his back. Timmy couldn’t help but stare at his muscles bulging in the pump. So huge and ripped. The bodybuilder then stood up with his back to the muscle-obsessed middle-aged guy, and Timmy was now able to make a study of the Adonis’s remarkably developed muscles on his back, which slimmed to an impossibly small waist in comparison. He saw that his glutes and hams were also extremely muscular as well. Timmy wondered, ‘Oh my god, have I died and gone to muscle-heaven? Is he real? Or is it my imagination going wild because I really wanted to see someone who looked just exactly like this?’ Timmy then squinted a little, and through the mirror that was in front of the bodybuilder, he made out that his muscle-guy was also very ruggedly handsome. Suddenly, the stud turned around and now Timmy was able to gaze at the enormous plates of bulging solid muscle on his chest as well as then definitely the largest biceps he had ever seen anywhere by far. Timmy estimated this guy’s waist and biceps to measure within just a few inches of each other. His delts and traps were also amazing to behold, and every inch of this bodybuilder was so perfectly symmetrically developed. No muscle was neglected. Timmy went a little south on his exploration of the spectacular landscape in his view and he now actually audibly gasped when he focused on the bodybuilder’s obscenely bulging crotch. He wondered if this stud had a hardon, or he was that big when soft. He laughed to himself at this question he had asked that he would obviously never get an answer to. Timmy saw that the muscle-stud also towered over the other guys around him and was twice as thick and wide as anyone else in the entire gym. But there was something about the bodybuilder’s handsome face that looked familiar to Timmy that he couldn’t quite place yet. It took several seconds more and then it clicked with him. “Yes, yes, that’s the new Mr. America! Biff something. Biff. Ummm, Biff Stevens. That’s who he is! Super heavyweight class too! Oh my god, and in my condo’s gym too!”

#GreenWave !!

Part 6 Zack moaned as his cock twitched. The power Henry was exercising over him was driving him wild. Zack reached forward and grabbed Henry’s traps, pulling himself towards the big man’s face, he kissed Henry. Henry’s lips parting to accept the embrace. Zack could feel Henry’s tongue forcing its way into his mouth, strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him in as they kissed deeply. Zack felt Henry’s cock hard inside him, the big head swelling as the kiss turned him on. Gyrating his hips back and forth he worked to please Henry. Henry pulled back from the kiss, a drop of spit falling from his mouth as he grinned at Zack, “God. You want it so bad boy.” Using his large hands he felt up and down Zack’s back, feeling the smaller man’s muscles move as he worked his body on Henry’s cock. “It feels so good.” Zack said, the words coming out slurred as if he were drunk off of Henry’s power alone. Henry laid Zack on the bed, on his back. Looming over him, his whole body one flexed mass of muscle. He leaned in and Kissed Zack again. Zack moaned again as he wrapped his arms around Henry’s thick bull neck. Henry was moving his hips slowly and rhythmically, back and forth, using every inch of his cock to pleasure Zack. Henry pulled away from the kiss again and looked down at Zack, his cannonball sized arms planted firmly on either side of Zack’s head. “You feel amazing.” He said as he slowly pushed his cock back into Zack, pushing until he felt his balls hit Zack’s body. “The first time. I fucked you. Now. I’m going to make love to you.” Henry said these words between breaths as he moved his cock slowly in and out of Zack. Zack squirmed and writhed in pleasure as Henry dominated his entire world. He could feel every hard inch of Henry’s cock slowly being pushed into him, and then pulled nearly entirely out, his big bull balls softly rubbing against Zack’s ass with every full thrust in. Henry was staring down at Zack, the look of carnal lust and absolute infatuation on his face struck Zack. Throwing his head back, Zack felt safe and completely relaxed for the first time since he’d been arrested. Henry’s mouth hung open as he slowly fucked Zack, reaching up, Zack grabbed around his thick neck and pulled himself up and into Henry, forcing his ass to swallow all of Henry’s length, and bringing himself into a deep long kiss with the beast. As the two were entangled in their passionate kiss, Zack felt Henry’s cock swell inside him, Henry tired to pull back from the kiss weakly as his breath picked up. His hot breath panting faster and faster into Zack’s mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god baby I’m going to cum again.” Henry panted into Zack. “Please, please ohhh fuck fill me up daddy.” “Not this time.” Henry said as he slowly pulled out of Zack, leaving Zack feeling hollow, empty, no longer completely filled with Henry’s huge muscle cock. As his cock left Zack, Henry lied down on the floor on his back. “Come here and help me.” Henry beckoned to Zack who was still on the bed reeling from the pounding he’d received. Zack moved to Henry on the floor, the big man lifted his legs in the air and contorted his body in a way that should be impossible for someone with so much muscle mass. His lifted his ass up so that he was lying on the floor, with his feet over his head, and his huge cock pointed down towards his pecs. Zack moved in, “Come over here and milk my cock, I want to cum all over my chest so you can lick it off.” The words hit Zack as he fumbled and scrambled to move into position so he could work Henry’s cock. Moving over Henry’s head and between his legs, Zack was greeted with the sight of Henry’s bulbous cockhead shiny and wet rubbing against his pecs in the position he was in, his massive ass inclined in the air with his hole readily available. Reaching forward with both hands, Zack gripped Henry’s cock and began to milk him. Henry moaned in pleasure as Zack’s small hands worked his swollen shaft, but Zack wanted more. Moving forward, he dove his face into Henry’s ass, working his tongue into Henry’s waiting hole. the minute his tongue reached it’s target, he felt Henry’s cock swell and turn to hot iron as Henry grabbed onto Zack and help him. Zack continued to work Henry’s huge pole and diligently worked his tongue around Henry’s tight muscular hole. With no words and little warning, Henry spasmed, Zack could feel the cock twitching and pumping in his hand as it shot load after load of thick white cum onto Henry’s broad chest. “Ahhhhhhhh.” Henry let out as he signed in sweet relief having blown his huge load. Lowering his legs down, Zack was able to see the fruits of his labors spread out across Henry’s massive pecs. “How’s that for a cum show?” Henry asked as Zack’s mouth opened in awe of the amount of cum coving the hairy muscle. It dripped down the sides, leaking into the space between us swelled biceps and his chest, spilled down the top of Henry’s chest and ran onto Henry’s thick neck and tall traps, most of the load pooled in the deep space between Henry’s pecs, and more yet was still sticky and stuck to his fat erect nipples. Flexing his chest, bouncing the mounds of muscle, and tensing the muscles so the striations and veins flexed and popped, Henry moved them with a slow methodical grace. “Better clean it up before it get’s cold.” Henry said as he used two fingers to scoop a bit of cum off his chest. It clung to his fingers, so thick it was like a heavy cream, bringing his fingers to Zack’s lips, Zack opened his mouth and accepted the offering. It was such a strong taste, sour, sweet, salty, so heavy. He needed more, and there was plenty left. Zack moved and began to slowly lick Henry’s chest, the impressively warm cum mixed with the rock hard muscle underneath was pure bliss for them both. Zack began with the nipples. Taking extra care to suck every bit of cum from the thumb sized protrusions. Next he worked the sides, Henry parted his arms from his side to give Zack access to the drops of cum that had escaped his wide chest, Zack took equal pleasure in licking the cum off of Henry’s biceps, and Henry took pleasure in flexing his huge peak as Zack rounded it with his tongue. “Henry you taste so good.” Zack cooed as he moved to lick the stream of cum off of Henry’s neck. Moving in close and kissing the deep space where Henry’s clavicle and thick muscled neck met. He felt the hard cords of muscle moving in Henry’s neck as he moved his head to allow Zack to kiss deeper on his neck. Zack could feel his lips vibrating as Henry’s deep vibrating groans of pleasure emanated through his body. “Damn kid, you really know how to treat a guy.” Henry said as he ran a big hand through Zack’s hair as Zack continued to work his neck. Zack’s hands refused to stay idle as the fondled Henry’s chest Squeezing and gripping the flexed muscles, feeling the hard muscle contract under his hands. Unsure of how long they laid like that, Zack eventually fell asleep on to of Henry, his face buried into the big man’s neck, his arms sprawled across him, and his cock sticking to Henry’s abs. “Damn I must have worn him out.” Henry bemused to himself as he wrapped his arms around Zack, and he drifted off as well. The morning sun broke through the window, hitting Zack’s face perfectly to blind him with the bright light. His eyes fluttered open and he had a vague sense of where he was. Slowly feeling his body rise and fall, the scratchy feeling against his cheek, the dull ache in his ass, and the heavy presence on his back holding him down. Zack lifted his head and found himself laying on top of Henry, with the big man completely knocked, his deep rhythmic breaths moving Zack’s body as Zack felt his cock stiffen against Henry’s abs. Right in front of of his face was Henry’s nipple, if he could just scoot a bit be could get it with his tongue. He was unaware if he wanted to bask in this glow longer, feeling impressively safe in with Henry’s arms wrapped around him, or if he wanted to arouse and awaken Henry by worshipping his nipple. The latter won, and Zack moved his head and we this lips in anticipation. As he started to reach forward he was frozen by a loud knock on the front door. the force of the knock, Zack could swear, rattled the window pane. Henry’s eyes opened slowly, then all at once he was up, “SHIT!” He said rolling out of bed and tossing Zack to the side, “I forgot Roy was coming today.” Zack scanned his memory, and recalled Henry had mentioned his friend would be coming this weekend to fish, damn had he already been here with Henry for that long. Zack reflected on his dwindling time with this beast before he went home, when another more forceful knock gathered his attention, this time he was certain the windows shook at the knock. “Get dressed, and maybe get a shower, you’ve got a little cum…” Henry gestured vaguely at Zack, “…all over you.” Zack looked down and he did indeed see and feel dried cum on different parts of his body. “What about you…” Zack started as Henry slid on pants and left the room as another knock rattled the cabin. Zack hurried down the hall to the shower, intent on fixing himself up, and completely blind as to why this ‘Roy’ seemed to get Henry so flustered. This giant rock of a man had looked like a teenager who had just been caught by the cops, a look and feeling Zack now knew all too well. Coming out of the shower and back down the hall he could hear Henry’s gruff voice, but he heard another man’s voice as well, it was crisp, each word beautifully annunciated, he sounded like some high brow news reporter. Zack went into the room, quickly dressed, and slowly crept down the hall. He could hear the two men laughing, “Jesus man, looks like you got visited by Dracula last night.” The unfamiliar voice said, “Is the bitch still around, or did she run scared when you pulled down your pants.” He laughed to himself and Henry chucked uncomfortably. Zack walked around the corner, “That would be the bitch.” Henry said with a bemused smile on his face. “Roy, Zack; Zack, Roy.” Zack’s face flushed, then blushed, he felt red hot as Roy stood and extended a hand out to Zack. “Nice to meet you, Zack. Henry was telling me about your extensive criminal background and how you landed here at bootcamp.” Roy said as he poked an elbow at Henry. At some point Henry had found a shirt and it barely covered his mass. Roy on the other hand was dressed casually, khaki shorts and a button up fishing shirt. While not as big as Henry, he filled out every inch of the shirt. “It’s nice to meet you.” Zack said extending his had out for Roy to take. The hard hand grasped Zack’s and executed a firm but not painful handshake. “You ever been finishing?” Roy asked Zack. “I’ve been a couple times when I was younger, but it’s been a while.” Zack replied. “You wanna come fish with me this afternoon? I have extra rods and plenty of beer.” Roy watched Zack with his deep brown eyes that almost seemed black. Zack looked at Henry who was noticeably struggling to keep his composure around Roy, almost as if Zack’s presence was interrupting them. “Sure!” He replied, “I’d love to.” Roy looked over to Henry, “and what say you big guy, are you fishing today?” “I’m okay, I have some things around the house I need to do today, you two have fun though.” And with that Henry walked back to his room. “Damn I guess he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, he’s usually so much more relaxed.” Roy quipped, then turning to Zack, “Well, come on, let’s go hop in the truck and head down to the lake and we can start this day off right.” Roy led the way out the door and Zack followed behind, taking care to keep enough distance to really admire how much ass he had seemed to squeeze into his jeans, the pants so worn and distressed they looked paper thin against the mounds of muscle beneath. Roy got into the truck and, leaning over the center console, opened the door for Zack. Zack struggled to get into the lifted truck, having to hoist himself up to the door. Roy put the truck into drive and took it down a worn tire path through the woods headed towards the lake. As they drove, Zack caught a few key glimpses of Roy while he drove, one thick hairy forearm rested on the steering wheel, the other hanging out the window. His jeans looked no more less snug in the front, pulled tight over his meaty thighs and a promising bulge in the denim in the front. Working up, he was wearing a flannel with the sleeves rolled into a cuff right above his elbow, looking incredibly tight, it made the veins in his forearms pop and stand out. The shirt wasn’t buttoned all the way either, the top few buttons undone as the shirt lazily flapped open as the truck bounced along the path. When they arrived at the lake shore, Zack noticed a small aluminum boat pulled up into the bank. They got out of the truck and Roy loaded everything into the boat. “Well, come get in.” Roy said as he stood by the boat, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his brow and on the exposed part of his chest. Climbing into the boat, Zack wondered how they were going to get the boat 15 feet to the water, and why he was getting in now. “Hey Ray, shouldn’t the boat be in the water before I get in?” Zack asked. “I mean, I was just going to carry it to the water so you didn’t have to get wet.” Ray said nonchalantly. “Oh…okay, thank you.” Zack replied as Roy walked towards the boat. Squatting beside the boat he gripped the sides of the aluminum boat, as he did, Zack noticed large indentations where Roy’s huge hands must have done this many times along both sides of the boat. Standing up, Roy lifted the boat, stocked with the equipment, and outboard motor, and of course Zack. Zack worked to balance in the boat and stay still, but at the same time, he was entranced by the fibrous cords of muscle working in Roy’s tick arms as he lifted the boat. His face strained with effort and turned red, veins popping and bulging on the top of his bicep, threatening to burst through his dark paper thin skin. Then as suddenly as he had been lifted, the boat settled back down into the water and Roy’s thick leg came over the side and into the small boat. His weight immediately sinking one side of the boat down as he hoisted his body into the boat. Finally settling into the boat, Zack noticed how much further the boat had sunken into the water, it wasn’t a huge boat, but Roy made it feel much smaller than it was. Turning on the motor, Roy idled the boat out to the middle of the lake where he quickly baited his hook, cast his line, and cracked open a beer. Leaning back towards the motor he looked over at Zack. “Well? You just going to watch me all day or are you going to fish?” As he said it he opened his legs and leaned back, as he spread his thighs, Zack could see the stuffed and tight fabric around his impressive bulge; but then it was covered as Roy moved his fishing rod between his legs. “Oh, I…I didn’t mean to stare. I…I wasn’t staring. I was just, you know, I was just waiting for….” Zack struggled to rectify this situation. Was he staring? Yes. Did he want this man he’d known for 45 minutes to know that? Hell no. “You don’t know how to bait a hook, but didn’t want to ask for help?” Roy attempted to finish Zack’s sentence. “Yes! My dad always did it for me, I don’t know how.” Zack internally sighed from relief. “Here, take this rod, it has tackle on it, just cast it and slowly reel it in, no baiting the hook.” Did he just wink? Zack could swear he just saw Roy wink at him. No, maybe the sun was in his eyes, or a bead of sweat dripped into his eye. Then the rod was in his hand, the thick handle with the hard plastic end, his fingers gripped around it and cast it out. “So, how much longer are you here with Henry?” Roy asked taking a sip of beer as he watched his bobber on the water. Zack slowly rolled in his line as he waited for tension to hit his line. “I’m not really sure. Maybe another few days. Just depends really.” Roy said. “Depends on what?” Roy asked. “Well, my mom is going to be home soon, but I’m not really ready to leave here yet.” Zack hadn’t really even admitted that to himself yet, so it was odd that it came out to Roy now. “Hard to leave that much muscle ain’t it?” As he said it, Roy snuck a quick peek over at Zack, who had been watching him and quickly turned his head away quickly. Zack’s face flushed red as Roy mentioned Henry and his hulking mass.”Don’t worry kid, we’ve all been there with Henry.” “Henry fucked you?!” Zack said, shocked at the sudden revelation. “Well, no. I fucked him. It’s been quite a while though.” There was an awkward pause as Zack searched for what to say next. “How…How do you know Henry?” Zack asked. “I was his drill sergeant when he was in the military, then his bodybuilding coach when we left.” “That tracks?” “What do you mean by that?” Roy replied. “I mean, you’re both in great shape, and he’s almost submissive to you; which very much isn’t something I thought Henry was capable of.” “Yeah, I saw the potential in him when he was a Cadet. Then he moved on to the Air Force and I stayed behind. After I was discharged, we ran into each other at a gym close to base. Started talking, and I started training him.” “Well the results show.” Zack said. “Thanks. I’m pretty good at making guys grow. Are you interested?” “Well the results show?” Zack said, trying to not let lust drip into his voice. “Thanks for saying so. I’m pretty good at making guys grow big.” Roy paused, then looked to Zack, “Say, would you be interested in growing?” Zack paused for a moment, but it was a moment too long. “Or do you like being the little guy?” With the second sentence, Roy raised an eyebrow quizzically towards Zack. “I…I’m not sure. I’ve never even considered it really.” Zack felt his cheeks turn hot and blush. The boat rocked, ‘OH YEAH!” Roy bellowed as he jerked his fishing line, trying to reel in his line. As they day went on they cast and recast with only the slightest bit of luck. Three large bass from Roy, and a bluegill fit to throw back from Zack. Somehow incredibly fitting. As the sun settled below the tops of the trees, the evening light bathed the lake in a warm orange hue. Roy had unbuttoned his entire shirt slowly throughout the day, and had increasingly pumped his muscles as he reeled in the three large fish. He relaxed back, “Damn not a bad day.” Roy quipped. Zack looked over to see Roy with his legs spread wide, his massive body uncovered and exposed, the shadow of his pecs rising and falling from the sunlight behind him. “You sure had a big day, yeah?” Zack replied. “It wasn’t bad, but I think we need to get these back to Henry so we can have dinner.” Roy started the motor and guided the boat back to shore. They unloaded the fish and equipment and after taking Roy’s truck back, they parked, with no sign of Henry. “Guess the big guy finished his outside work today. Let’s get these inside and he can clean them up while we clean ourselves up.” Zack felt his cheeks flush again as he conjured the image of ‘cleaning himself up’ with Roy. As they entered the house, Zack immediately felt the cool rush of AC, along with a fragrant smell. Henry was in the kitchen. He was wearing no shirt, but he did have on an apron; which Zack was sure would actually be the size of a large bedsheet if he took it off. “Welcome back!” Henry called from the stove, “I started dinner already, hope you all brought some fish to go with this!” “I left them out on the porch for you to clean, me and the boy need to go wash this fish smell off of us.” Roy had a slight slur in his words that Zack hadn’t noticed on the lake, but now he recounted the amount of beer Roy had consumed during the day and it added up. Roy put a strong arm around Zack’s shoulder and pulled him towards the shower. “Zack.” Henry called after them. “Do you want to help me clean these fish up, I think it’s a skill you’d need to learn.” “Lay off the kid, he learned enough today.” Roy replied pulling Zack along again, the smell of alcohol on his breath nauseating to Zack. “Zack, if you want to stay out here just say that, you don’t have to shower with him, it’s a small shower anyway.” Zack’s eyes darted back and forth between the two men as they had a stare down over him. If Roy wasn’t as drunk as he was, Zack would not only be delighted, but flattered that this man was so strongly suggesting they shower together. But something about how Henry was acting, along with the pushy drunk nature of Roy, led Zack to question that desire. “If the kid wants to shower, he can choose to do that too, and looks to me like he’s excited for it.” Roy said. Indeed, Zack did have a boner showing, however it was more to do with the way Henry’s muscle was pouring out of his apron, and the way Henry almost seemed to be protecting him that made him turned on. “I actually think I want to learn how to clean a fish, if I don’t learn now, I never will. I’ll shower later as long as you don’t use all the hot water.” Zack said, slowly lowering his head and removing himself from under Roy’s heavy arm. He hoped the innocence and light playfulness would subdue Roy and end the situation, and in fact he was correct. “Suit yourself, kid. Could’ve been fun.” Roy replied as he grabbed the plump bulge in the front of his pants. God. It did look fucking huge. Why did he have to ruin it by being such an ass. Zack turned and walked onto the porch with Henry, who promptly shut the door, keeping them outside. “I’m sorry for Roy, he’s just a little…” Henry began. “It’s okay, thank you for helping me out of that. His breath was so gross.” Zack said. “Not just his breath, it was how he treated you.” Henry paused, “I saw you bricked up though, were you really excited to shower with him?” Zack could almost see puppy dog eyes and jealousy in Henry’s chiseled stoic face. “Honestly? I was hard seeing how well you wear that apron with your huge chest shoving out each side….and…. The way it almost seemed like you were protecting me.” Zack could not look up and meet Henry’s gaze, he simply looked down as Henry put together the filet knife. “I mean. I just know how he’s treated me. Didn’t think you deserved that.” Henry said, staring down and concentrating on descaling the fish. “How he treated you?” Zack asked. Although he felt like he was prying, there still seemed to be a piece to the puzzle of their relationship he was missing, and he needed to find it. “He’s just an ass. He was my drill sergeant and then coach. He thought he owned me, owned my…my body. Not that he ever hurt me or anything, but he was just always so…” “Dominant.” Zack finished. “Yeah.” Henry agreed. “He said you all used to fool around?” Zack asked. “Well, that’s generous. He fucked me once and then left me high and dry because he found a new client who he thought could be better, maybe more submissive.” Henry had almost finished with the first bass and was moving on to the second. “Then why do you still let him come around and use your lake and stay at your house and call him a friend?” Zack asked. “Because at the end of the day, I’m thankful for him. He showed me a better life, helped me through some tough times, and frankly, I had fallen in love with him when he was my coach. I thought we were so much more, but he was just teasing me and leading me on.” “I guess you learned that from him too.” Zack quipped before thinking better of it. Henry looked up, “Excuse me?” “I mean, you’re a fucking tease, you’re dominant as hell, I’m not saying you two are exactly alike, but you aren’t two different people.” Zack tried to remedy this situation, he was finally having a solid single conversation with Henry and he was about to fucking blow it. Henry chuckled as he started on the last of the fish, “I guess your right, I do get off on teasing you, but I’m in charge around here and he’s not going to treat you like shit.” Henry had finished filleting the fish and moved to head inside. Once inside Roy called down the hallway he was finished with the shower and Zack went to take one of his own while Henry finished dinner for the three of them. Some point during his shower, Henry had seen fit to put on a shirt, nothing fancy, a skin tight t-shirt. At the table for dinner, Henry had created quite the spread for the three of them. After his shower and some water before dinner Roy had sobered up significantly, however the heat of the exchange from earlier still hung in the air. “Roy,” Henry began, “I’m glad you made it out this weekend. But.” Henry hesitated, “ I think you should apologize to Zack for how you acted when you all got back.” Roy shot Henry a defiant look, “What is there to apologize for, I was just going to show the boy a good time.” “Yeah, but you did it by acting like an ass, so apologize.” Henry replied as he held Roy’s gaze. After a brief moment, Henry swelled his chest, his traps rising as blood pumped through them, his clenched fists on the table tightening, causing the veins in his forearms to pop. Roy noticed, but refused to acknowledge in any meaningful way aside from what he said, shifting his gaze to Zack, “I’m sorry I acted like that. Guess I just thought you were cute and wanted a taste of what seemed to make Henry so warm.” Zack was a bit shocked at the sudden kind introspection from Roy, and he glanced at Henry whose face had softened as he began to finish off his plate. “I’ll be honest, had you asked nicely, I think I would’ve taken you up on it.” Roy raised a seductive eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” Henry, setting his fork down on his plate also looked over at Zack, “Yeah Zack?” Zack’s mouth went dry as the two hunks stared at him across the table. Mustering up the most important lessons he’d learned from Henry so far, he steeled himself before his responses, “Yeah, so why don’t you ask me nicely if you can have some dessert.” As he said it, Zack tried his best to sharpen his jaw, broaden his shoulders, and match their equally seductive glares. Roy licked his lips, “What do you say Henry, want to show this kid a good time?” Henry eyed Zack cautiously, “Zack, are you sure?” Standing and moving behind Henry, he attempted to reach over Henry’s massive shoulders to massage his chest as he replied, but even with himself standing and Henry sitting, he couldn’t seem to reach, so he settled for squeezing Henry’s shoulders as he stood on his tiptoes to whisper in Henry’s ear, “I’m sure.” Without much fanfare, Zack left the table, and the two muscled men at the table walked to Henry’s bedroom. Feeling emboldened in this moment, Zack decided to ask for something. “Can I undress you both?” Henry looked down at Roy with a sneer on his face, “As long as you start with me.” Henry sat down on the bed, spreading his legs wide as Zack approached him, his cock throbbing in his shorts in anticipation. Grabbing the bottom hem of Henry’s shirt he began to work it up Henry’s huge body, his tight muscular stomach covered in a soft pelf of hair. The shirt got stuck at Henry’s wide lats and prominent chest, Zack struggled with the shirt, trying to fit his hands under the shirt to gain leverage, he ran his hands along Henry’s powerful chest. Zack looked up to see Henry staring down at him over his pecs, being the tease he is, Henry bounced his pecs as Zack’s hands were trapped between them and the shirt. Zack moaned as he continued to struggle to get the tight shirt to come off of Henry’s huge body. “Let me help you a bit.” Henry said, taking in a deep inhale of air and flexing his entire upper body, Zack felt the shirt come apart in his hands as Henry’s body shredded the fabric. Zack finished it off by grabbing the tatters of cloth and pulling them away from Henry’s body, leaving his powerful frame bare. Placing a huge hand on Zack’s shoulder, he pushed Zack down to his knees and stood before him. Zack licked his lips as he placed his hands on the top of Henry’s pants to undo them. Slowly working down the pants, Henry’s plump soft cock was covered in the tightest little underwear Zack had ever seen. Henry stepped out of his pants for Zack and adjusted his bulge as Zack watched it move back and forth, hypnotizing him. “God damn.” Roy said from behind Zack, “You’re fucking huge!” Zack had almost forgotten about Roy in his urgency to please Henry, but now he had to undress Roy. Zack could see the confident cocky smile on Henry’s face as he saw Roy practically drooling over his body. Suddenly Roy seemed to shrink in Henry’s near naked presence, but Zack was already upon him to take his clothes off. Lifting his shirt off was much easier than Henry’s but his body underneath was absolutely worth it. Henry was huge and his musculature defined, but Roy was on a different level. His rock solid abs, his steel like square pecs, the separation in his biceps, the cut in his obliques, he looked carved from a single huge marble block. Zack ran his hands along Roy’s body, feeling the deep definition and admiring how each and every muscle was prominent just under his skin. “Holy shit,” Zack whispered as he felt Roy’s broad shoulders. Running his hands down Roy’s front, he got on his knees and slowly began to pull down Roy’s loose shorts. As he began, he quickly noticed Roy had on no underwear as Zack immediately saw the thick base of Roy’s cock. Zack looked up at Roy with a bit of wonder in his eyes, he continued to pull down the shorts slowly, but the tip of the cock never seemed to come, just more and more thick shaft. Finally it sprang up with release, hanging heavy in front of Zack’s face. Zack cupped Roy’s massive bull balls in his hands, feeling how swollen and heavy they were as Roy’s cock twitched from the attention. Henry appeared at Roy’s side, his underwear had been shed, and his cock was no longer soft. Both huge dicks just waiting for him. Zack looked up to see Henry bending down to make out with Roy. Henry’s cock was leaking precum like a faucet, with one hand on each cock Zack did his best to pleasure each cock, the huge head of Henry’s cock swelling each time in his mouth and spitting out another huge bit of pre. Roy’s cock was just as had as every other muscle in his body, and Zack was sure to give his give balls the attention they deserved, placing one in his mouth and swirling his tongue over it, then switching to the other. Suddenly Zack felt hands under his arms lifting him up, “You’re still fully dressed,” Henry said as he held Zack in between himself and Roy, “Let’s fix that.” Zack was tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll as the two massive men climbed on either side of him, ripping and tearing at his clothes to get to the body beneath. Henry took his shirt and hovered his huge body over Zack, massaging his upper body carefully with his hands as he leaned in to kiss Zack, his strikingly handsome face close to Zack’s, and Zack reached out and pulled Henry in, letting his tongue explore inside of Henry’s mouth. All the while, Roy was pulling Zack’s pants and underwear down and off him, swallowing his cock in one quick gesture that made Zack arch his back and gasp into Henry. Large fingers began to probe at Zack’s hole, which unsurprisingly was still a bit stretched from Henry and the previous night. “Oh he’s ready to go already.” Roy said as he continued to work more fingers into Zack’s hole. Before he could understand what was happening, he was being held up between Roy and Henry as they stood. His face pressed deeply into Henry’s chest as both men’s hands held him in place. He felt Roy’s solid body pressing against his back and the heads of Henry and Roy’s cocks aimed directly at his hole. Zack prepared as his body slowly lowered down, feeling both cocks slide inside him, sending a shudder of pleasure. “Fuck…” Roy said as he began to slowly move his hips back and forth. “Henry your cock is so fucking hard, so fucking ungh thick, god this hole, so fucking tight, fuck fuckkkkkk.” Roy said as he came. Roy’s cock slid out as Henry held onto Zack, “Thanks, I needed that load for lube. What’s wrong old man, can’t keep up?” Henry said as his hands roamed over Zack’s body as he held him in place on his cock. “Why don’t you watch how a real man fucks!” Henry laid himself and Zack on the bed, putting Zack into a full Nelson hold as he began to pound Zack’s hole relentlessly, Zack could feel Henry’s powerful cock deep inside him as Henry huffed and came. Without missing a beat, he released Zack as Zack sat up, still impaired on Henry’s cock. Henry playfully smacked Zack’s ass as he said, “Fucking ride it, show me how much you want another load of daddy’s cum.” Jerking his own cock Zack came as well, “Fuck I love how tight your hole gets when you cum!” Henry smacked Zack’s ass again, this time a little harder, Zack took the hint and dropped all the way down on Henry’s cock, grinding his ass into Henry’s hips as the huge man grunted and groaned in pleasure. Several hours and several more loads later, Zack and Henry lie in Henry’s bed, in the quiet of the house, they could hear Roy snoring from the living room. “I think you settled that feud tonight.” Zack said as he traced a finger around Henry’s nipple. “I think you’re right, he needed to be put in his place. You played your part so well too, and you looked so fucking hot doing it.” Zack blushed at the compliment, “Getting fucked by both of you while being smashed between so much muscle was pretty hot though.” “It was pretty hot when you rode my cock like that, didn’t think you had it in you.” “It was pretty deep in me.” Zack said and Henry chuckled softly. “You know, I heard from your mom today when you were out fishing with Roy.” Zack sat up and looked at Henry, “and when did you plan on telling me?” “Right now apparently, relax. I had asked her to call me. I was just telling her how well you’re doing and how happy you seem. So we talked about maybe you can spend some more time here before you go home. Like a little vacation out in the woods. Only if you want to though.” “I think I’d like that a lot, on two conditions.” Henry raised an eyebrow quizzically to Zack, “And what would that one condition be?” “I need you to put on some more muscle.” Henry chuckled again, “Alright I can handle that, what’s your second condition?” “Help me grow too.”

So I’m resurrecting this because I finally made it through the book, and mother of god, it was amazing. . . And incredibly hot. If you ever make a sequel to it, be sure to let us know!

CHAPTER 2 Timmy’s eyes were indiscreetly glued to the handsome massively muscular bodybuilder lifting at his condo’s gym. When Biff started another set, Timmy almost bumped into a fellow gym-goer as he stared with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. The stud had to be in the upper 200’s in weight, Timmy thought. His beautiful muscular size and extraordinarily ripped condition excited him more than he had ever felt for anyone in his life. He adjusted his quickly tenting dick, and before he embarrassed himself, he slunk to the locker room to change. He remembered the athletic muscular bullies from high school and what they would do to him when he was caught staring at them. Timmy knew that the prudent move to make, when he went back into the gym, was to get his head out of this muscle-fueled daze and try fighting his enormous attraction to Biff. It took exactly one second and he was back to his pulse racing at the thought of just seeing more of the bodybuilder again. It was impossible to fight, and he just enjoyed it way too much. As he came back in and headed for the treadmills, he saw that Biff was at the water fountain, bent over and slurping water into his god-like physique. Timmy’s daze was of course now back, and, though he was not at all thirsty, he walked up to be next in line, pretending that he needed a drink as well. Now close-up, with each ripple of muscle that Timmy witnessed, the stud was just oozing sex and power. His back muscles flexed in the smallest of actions, and his triceps, so lean and bulgy with beautifully shaped horseshoes/croissants, danced to Timmy’s feasting eyes. And Biff’s glutes were easily seen dimpling through the tight shorts that he wore. There was absolutely no evidence of any body fat anywhere on Biff’s physique. Being so close to such muscle-perfection, there was no way Timmy’s trance was going away anytime soon. This led his obsession to fantasizing about touching the exquisite handsome bodybuilder and worshiping every inch of his physique. Biff would flex for him, and then Timmy would kiss and lick each bulging muscle. With Biff taking so long at his drinking, it then allowed the muscle-worshiper to take his fantasy to an even higher level, where he was then sucking the gorgeous bodybuilder’s big dick. Timmy’s penis was again fully erect and leaking and it very obviously now tenting his pants with a wet spot. He needed to put his hands nonchalantly over his crotch to hide it. And all of this occurred in just about a minute after getting in line! Biff finally finished drinking and stood up to his full height. Timmy felt short as he looked straight into Biff’s defined striated delts. He realized that he had under-estimated the bodybuilder’s size earlier, and that the stud had to be closer to a height of maybe 6’5”. Biff then turned around with water dripping off his succulent lips and falling onto his muscle-stretched very tight shirt, wetting his sensuously bulging solid pectorals. The muscle god looked down at Timmy, and, seeing the daze that he was in, quickly sized up the handsome skinny older guy as a very seriously-obsessed muscle-admirer. Biff then casually and seductively danced his pecs just a little for the awestruck Timmy as he enjoyed the reaction that he knew he was responsible for. He saw his admirer had even trouble breathing, as he was so sexually charged. Timmy had turned red and froze, partly in reactive fear remembering back to his school experiences. But the bodybuilder’s thoughts were correct, it was caused mostly by Timmy’s lust for his muscle, and Biff was now so close to him. As Biff sexily touched his now wet pectorals with his gym-trained hand, he said in a deep voice looking down at Timmy, “Sorry I took so long. It’s all yours now, little boy.” Timmy still couldn’t respond, and Biff, amused at his handsome admirer’s extreme reaction to him, then strutted back to his bench to continue his lifting. When Timmy finally came down to earth, he realized how enormously thrilled he was that Biff had even actually talked to him! “And he called me his ‘little boy,”’ Timmy thought. “Oh my god, what an amazing encounter with the new Mr. America. And he’s so tall and handsome also.” Timmy stumbled to the water fountain and feigned drinking for a little while, then quickly got to a place with the best view. And he indeed found one on a treadmill facing his heartthrob. Timmy watched Biff’s flexing muscles as he lifted tremendous pounds, rep after rep with dozens of sets. He watched as Biff’s muscles grew more massive and ripped with his pump. His biceps peaked like two Mount Everests before then relaxing each time. Timmy loved the beautiful split in each bicep, and knew they’d tape easily in the mid-twenties. He would have paid the stud just to tape them for him. At one point, when Timmy was furtively glancing at Biff, the muscle stud caught him. Timmy quickly looked away red-faced and then pretended to text someone on his phone. He was torn between wanting to be coy and not get caught, but then he would miss out on the muscle-show, versus wanting to eye-fuck this ultimate muscle-fantasy as much as he could for future wanks. Each flex from Biff would be worth one more masturbatory ejaculation for Timmy in the future. After a while, a small crowd had started to gather around the bodybuilder as he put more weight on the bar and the loud clanking and slamming of the weights drew much attention. Timmy was now able to full-time watch too, knowing that it was now safe to be with all these other people there as well. When else could he get the chance to see someone THAT spectacularly muscular and so close up? Timmy got off his treadmill and tried to count how much weight Biff had on the bar, but he kept losing track because there were so many plates going up and down. With always perfect form and controlled muscle movement, the bodybuilder knelt and bent over, then cranked out his deadlifts, the weight lowering, before then rising back up. The bar bent dramatically with the enormous pounds of weights loaded on it, but Biff continued lifting and made it look relatively light. This went on for quite a while more as the reps flew by, until the Biff reached still another failure and he finally stopped. Timmy’s face showed some disappointment when he assumed that the muscle-show was now over. But, after all, he had viewed the gorgeous man for almost two hours already. Some of the other gym bros approached the muscleman, slapping his knotted-with-bulging-muscle back. Timmy would have loved doing that too, using it as the excuse to actually touch Biff. He laughed to himself as he pictured slapping Biff on his huge striated deltoid and saying, “good job dude.” But of course, he could never do anything even remotely like that, mostly since he knew Biff would see right through him and know what his true motives were exactly. And, Timmy also knew that he had a raging hardon and his shorts were soaked with pre again and he would never be able to camouflage it if he was right in front of Biff. Watching the insane display of strength and huge sliced and carved muscle show was amazing while it lasted, and he decided to go upstairs and maybe do some sit-ups. Suddenly, even from upstairs, he again heard grunting and weights slamming around. All he could think of was what he was missing as he envisioned the handsome bodybuilder’s flexing muscles shifting and sliding so sensuously downstairs. But he knew it was best to give it a rest, and after a while, and not hearing Biff anymore, Timmy figured that the bodybuilder was now finally finished and was probably gone. So, he headed downstairs to leave. But, wouldn’t you know, as he came down the stairs, he saw that Biff had repositioned himself right there facing Timmy, doing seated machine rows with the weight maxed out. It was almost as though Biff knew where his admirer was before, and this ensured Timmy would see him when he came back down. Timmy stared at Biff and thought his tank was almost bursting from his muscular development. Also, curious to Timmy, was that the bodybuilder couldn’t be getting much benefit from this rowing machine. Though there were tremendous weights there, Biff was doing the exercise so fast and too easily. As he stared, Timmy knew for sure that he had never wanted anyone more in his life. Not even close to this. The big guy caught him again and stared right back. When it became a lingering friendly handsome smile, Timmy’s heart stopped. Then the sexy muscle-guy winked at him. Shocked at what had just occurred and feeling uncomfortable about not knowing what to do or say in response, Timmy hurried to the lockers and then took the elevator back up to his apartment.

Thanks for all the positive responses! I'm glad to hear you all enjoyed it!

I read the whole book: it's simply amazing. Besides being a very hot novel, you appreciate the plot, the style, the characterization of the characters... did I mention that it's very hot? Thanks, Expander, for having shared this masterpiece with us.