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It's been a while since I last added a story, but I couldn't turn down a challenge from Hulkoutlover (HOL) to write outside of my comfort zone. As the author, I modified HOL's request a bit and wrote this story for them. I hope it's a good one, and that HOL enjoys it many times over. If anyone else is interested in commissioning me and challenging me to write something new, please let me know on Discord at czechhunter69#0839. But for now, without further ado, please enjoy HOL's commission. ----------------------------- Colin the Intern As Collin swept the walkways of the lab on this stormy, lightning-filled night, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The quiet hum of the machines and the distant rumble of thunder provided a comforting background noise. It was one of the few moments in his internship that he truly cherished - the opportunity to be alone in the evening with his thoughts while completing a simple final task. But tonight, something was different. The lab was a mesmerizing sight that never failed to captivate Collin every time he stepped into it. High ceilings, various scientific equipment, and experiments in progress created a buzzing energy that filled the air. Lightning flashes outside that intermittently illuminated the room cast eerie shadows that danced around the lab. Collin found comfort in the quiet hum of the machines and the distant rumble of thunder that provided a soothing background noise, but tonight, that sense of comfort was short-lived. As he swept the walkways, he couldn't help but glance over at the machines and experiments, wondering what secrets they held. Being an intern at the lab had always been Collin's dream, and he relished every moment he got to spend in this mesmerizing place. As he reflected on the mysteries, he had no idea that the next few moments would change everything. Little did he know that he was about to make a discovery that would turn the lab upside down. The lights were dimmed, but the bright flashes of lightning that illuminated the windows intermittently cast eerie shadows across the room. Despite the mesmerizing experiences that greeted him every day, Collin still felt unfulfilled in his current role - it wasn’t all janitorial stuff, he was just the new guy so to speak. He had spent years studying and earning degrees, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't putting his education to good use. The monotony of his internship had left him feeling uninspired, and he wondered if he was meant for something more. It seemed as though the only thing he had to show for his time at the lab was the growth of his hair, which had become long enough to cut once again. Collin yearned for a chance to truly make a difference and utilize his knowledge to the fullest. As the distant rumble of thunder provided a soothing background noise, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held. That’s when he heard a door creak open, between booms and torrents of rain. Collin turned and saw his mentor, Jay, walking out of the lab with a coy smile that they both knew meant he wasn't supposed to leave so early. He couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as he watched Jay's ass fill the back of his pants the same way his upper back filled his shirt - it was harder to hide those muscles usually. As much as Collin tried to deny it, he couldn't help the crush he had on his boss. "Hey Colin, make sure you lock up," Jay called out, his voice echoing in the large space. He looked crazed, and Colin could clearly see a boner pressed against the side of his legs. Collin nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he watched Jay leave. He couldn't deny that he felt a sense of unease now that he was alone in the lab. As he continued sweeping up, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard strange noises coming from one of the machines - to his relief it was just a fridge turning on. Collin took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It was just the storm he assured himself. There was no reason to worry. The building was practically a bomb shelter. As Collin continued his rounds, he couldn't help but feel the jitters intensify as he approached the radiation section of the lab. He had always been a little uneasy around that area, no matter how many times he had been there. The warning signs and safety precautions always made him feel like he was in a dangerous situation. It was irrational, he knew that, but the feeling persisted. May it was the storm? Perhaps it was the lingering sense of the unknown that lurked in the shadows, or maybe it was the thought of the unseen dangers that could be lurking behind that lead door. Whatever the reason, he couldn't shake the feeling. The storm outside had only added to the sense of unease, trapping him inside the lab for the time being. Collin took a deep breath and tried to push the irrational thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing on the task at hand. He had work to do, and he couldn't let his nerves get the best of him. Colin finished sweeping the walkways and began gathering his things, unaware that Jay had decided to stick around due to the storm. Suddenly, Jay's voice echoed through the lab, surprising him. Colin turned to see his mentor, drenched from the rain, with water droplets cascading down his face and well-trimmed chest hair visible through his wet shirt. Jay's voice was low and smooth as he spoke, clearly disguising that he was out of breath due to the hailstorm that was hitting the roof. "Looks like we're stuck here together," he said, his calm and collected aura remaining intact despite the chaotic weather. Colin found this side of Jay incredibly alluring and couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Jay laughed and apologized for startling Colin before climbing up on one of the tables and sitting cross-legged. "Might as well get comfy," he said, laying down on one of the clean tables as the storm intensified outside. Colin leaned against a nearby counter, his eyes drawn to the sight of his boss standing a few feet away. The relentless downpour of rain had soaked Jay's clothes, making them cling to his muscular frame in all the right places. Each bolt of lightning illuminated the lab, casting shadows that highlighted every curve and contour of Jay's fit physique. Colin couldn't help but feel a sense of desire wash over him as he watched his boss breathe heavily, the sound of his breaths filling the quiet room. For a moment, Colin considered suggesting they head down to the basement for safety. But then he realized that the lab was probably the safest place to be. The building had been designed to withstand severe weather conditions, and the equipment they were working with was too valuable to risk moving. So he remained where he was, content to watch Jay from a distance, and let the storm rage on around them. With a sudden burst of energy, Jay sat up, his eyes glinting with an idea. Colin knew that if he wanted to impress his boss and make the most of his internship, he would have to go along with it, even if Jay never said it out loud. In a smooth and suggestive tone, Jay beckoned Colin over, his fit physique glistening in the dim light. "Hey, I wanted to show you something really special," he said, flashing a coy smile. The way he looked at Colin made his heart skip a beat. “You going to love it man.” As he ushered Colin to follow him into the radiation lab. Colin knew he wasn’t supposed to do anything in there. “It’ll be fine.” Jay assured him. “I’m the one who does the write ups,” He laughed. Jay struggled to pull his soggy badge from his pockets, his trembling hands betraying his frustration. "This goddamn badge," he muttered under his breath, finally managing to extract it. "I think you're really going to like this machine," he said to Colin, a sly grin creeping across his face. "It's got a new serum that I've been working on. With just a few treatments, you can pack on some serious muscle." He chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. The door clicked open with a hiss, and Jay pushed it open, gesturing for Colin to follow him. "After you," he said, his voice low and suggestive. As Colin stepped through the doorway, Jay couldn't help but glance at his toned back and muscular legs, his mind racing with desire. Colin's heart raced at the thought of being alone with Jay and his chiseled physique, but he tried to play it cool as they made their way over to the new machine. Colin tried to sound casual as he broke the silence, "How much longer before the storm passes?" but Jay seemed to ignore his question, instead leading him over to the new machine. Jay explained the purpose of the machine, going into great detail about how it worked. Colin tried to follow along, but found it difficult to understand the complex technical terms. Jay's playful chuckle filled the air as he suddenly revealed, "For the last week, I’ve been getting stronger while working on this stuff. A quick treatment here and there, and I’ve packed on 50lbs of muscle, and there isn’t enough time in the day to jerk with how horny I’ve been." He put his arms up in a double bicep pose, only restrained by the wet shirt, clearly annoyed by it and Colin could have sworn he saw them grow, like the blue veins were tinting a green fade the rest of his skin. He had a proud smile. “Damn your arms are huge.” Colin's heart raced as it became clear that Jay was coming on to him. Colin found himself increasingly excited at the prospect of being alone with Jay. The storm outside continued to rage on, but he barely noticed as he hung onto Jay's every word, primarily cause the man talked with his hands and the movement accentuated his toned biceps and pecs. Despite trying to act casual, Colin’s heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe that Jay was going to just show him a muscle growing machine. Jay's eyes lingered on Colin's body, and he moved a little closer. "You know, I think you would look amazing with a few extra pounds of muscle on top of you,” Jay said, his voice low and seductive. "Why don't you let me show you how it's done?" Colin's mouth went dry as he realized what Jay was suggesting. He could already feel the wetness in his pants.He had never been with a man before, but he couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards Jay. The man’s chest hair alone was enough to get Collin hard as a rock. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, following Jay over to the new machine with anticipation building in his chest. Jay took Colin over to a sleek, white panel that looked like it belonged in a doctor's office. Colin felt a twinge of disappointment, hoping that Jay had been referring to himself when he mentioned adding a few pounds of muscle on Colin. The idea of Jay riding him like the stallion he was, made Collin chub up in his pants. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see Jay shirtless, stroking his, frankly massive cock, and using his spit as lube. "This is our new machine," Jay explained, gesturing towards the panel. "It uses gamma radiation to stimulate muscle growth in specific areas. It's still experimental, but we've had some promising results.” He flex his arm highlighting the veins crawling from his wrist up to his sleeve. Colin’s mouth dropped. “You like that don’t you?” Jay said before coughing and going back to his needless explanation. It was as though he was trying to resist going too far, with each advance. Colin listened carefully as Jay explained, let down to even be hearing the man ramble on. He couldn't believe that this kind of technology existed, and he was excited at the prospect of being able try it out. With how ripped Jay looked, it clearly worked. He couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have his muscles grow right before his eyes, to feel himself getting stronger and more powerful with each passing moment. Jay handed him a white lab apron and motioned for him to put it on. "We need to make sure you're protected from the radiation," he said with a grin. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe as long as you follow the protocols and aren’t wanting kids in the future” He laughed. Colin nodded nervously as he slipped on the apron over his clothes, feeling a surge of adrenaline as he realized what he was about to do. He couldn't wait to see the results and feel the changes in his body. Jay had Colin stand in front of a large, metallic board that resembled the kind of equipment he had seen at the doctor's office for chest X-rays. As he waited for Jay to get him situated, Colin couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle in his stomach. He wasn't entirely sure what he had gotten himself into, but he couldn't back out now. “Normally, I’d have to take your shirt off, but I kinda want to see it happen with it on.” As Jay rolled out a series of vials in front of him, Colin felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The vials were a dark, ominously green color, and there were six of them in total. He watched as Jay lifted up one of the vials, which was labeled H03, an auto-injector. Colin furrowed his brows in confusion, trying to make sense of it all. Hydrogen Ozonide didn't make sense to him, and he knew that it usually had to be kept at a much colder temperature. "Am I misreading this or were we going to do something else?" Colin asked, adjusting his cock through the apron so Jay could see. “I thought you were coming on to me.” "Oh, we'll get to that," Jay promised, flashing a mischievous grin. "But first, we need to get you looking more like a man and less like a fucking teenager." Jay's voice was increasingly frustrated and deeper, and his movements grew more agitated. Colin couldn't help but feel insulted by Jay's comment, but he tried not to let it show on his face. He wondered what exactly Jay had in mind for him, and what the auto-injectors were for. As he stood there, waiting for Jay to begin, Colin couldn't shake off the feeling that he was in over his head. Jay plunged four into Colin’s shoulders and thighs. Colin's eyes widened as he watched the green liquid travel through the tube of the injector, into him, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. They were painless, but the process was still frustrating for Jay. It was taking too long. He wanted to give up and screw the intern right there, but odds are - he wouldn’t survive. At least, not in his current condition. Jay tried to adjust his soaking wet clothes discreetly, but it was no use - they seemed to be fitting Jay more snugly than moments before. Colin couldn't help but notice the way Jay's muscles pressed against the fabric of his shirt, the way the wet hair seemed to cling just under the fabric, and the way his veins popped out on his forearms. It was clear that something strange was happening to him, but Colin didn't know what to make of it. "Are you okay?" Colin asked, his voice filled with concern. Colin's question seemed to snap Jay out of his trance-like state. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. "I'm fine," Jay replied, though his voice still sounded strained and huskier. "Just a little impatient, that's all." Colin wasn't entirely convinced, but something told him he shouldn’t press the issue. He could feel the dense tar like fluid at the injection sites burning and enflamed. He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart pounded harder and harder in his chest with each passing second. "This one is an aerosol that when blasted at you with the radiation, triggers the growth," Jay explained as he loaded it into a X-ray type machine and pressed a button on it. "It should help us both pack on some serious muscle as we breath it in with the radiation." The sound of the X-ray machine seemed to grow louder and more urgent as the second creeped by, with the hissing of the aerosol. Colin watched as Jay rushed over to a set of controls, his fingers moving expertly over the buttons and switches. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly was happening to him, and whether or not he would come out of this experience unscathed. Colin felt a sudden jolt of electricity course through him, making him gasp in surprise. He could feel his muscles tensing and twitching involuntarily, as if they were alive and pulsating with new energy. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and he struggled to keep his balance as he felt his entire body vibrate with power. "What the hell is happening to me?" he gasped, his now deeper voice thick with panic. Jay just laughed, a sly grin playing across his face. "Relax, man. It's all part of the process. You're going to look amazing when we're done." But Colin could tell from the way Jay's eyes sparkled with excitement that there was more to this than just a simple transformation. Colin felt like his body was on fire. The green serums that Jay had injected into him was coursing through his veins, and he could feel it altering him from the inside out. It was as if every cell in his body was being mutated, transformed, restructured, and he couldn't control what was happening to him. He groaned as his muscles convulsed and twitched, causing him to fall to his knees. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he thought it would burst out of him. His head was pounding, and he could feel his vision starting to blur. He was in so much pain that he couldn't think straight, and his body was growling like an animal. He dropped to his knees, then fell to his hands. Colin attempted to steady himself on all fours, but his hands and feet were undergoing a transformation too, and it was happening fast. He watched in awe as his fingers began to thicken, the once lean digits now appearing almost like sausages. The change continued up his arms, his forearms bulging in size and strength, quickly swelling to the original size of his thighs. He felt his biceps filling and tearing out of his sleeves, becoming wider and more muscular by the second. And all the more green by the minute. As he tried to shift his weight, the fabric of his clothing began to rip apart at the seams, unable to withstand the force of his growing muscles. The seams on his shirt gave way, exposing his now huge, chiseled chest. His pants were no match either, the fabric splitting from his ankles all the way up to his mid-thighs. He could feel his green skin stretching and expanding to accommodate the growth, the sensation a mix of pain and exhilaration. The rage building inside Colin was overwhelming, and he could feel it bubbling up from the depths of his being. His mind was clouded with a primal fury, and he had no control over his actions. In a fit of anger, he balled his fists and pounded them into the ground, causing the tiles to crack and break under the force of his deadly blows. He roared. The sound echoed throughout the lab, mixing with the sound of the storm outside, and Colin felt a surge of power rush through him. He could feel his muscles expanding even further, as if fueled by his anger. The veins in his arms bulged as he continued to strike the ground, and he felt a wild, uncontrollable energy coursing through his body. In that moment, Colin was lost to the rage, and he knew that nothing could stop him, as he noticed Jay, and how much sexier he look now that his shirt was barely holding on. His mind seemed to have one track; lust and rage. He could feel his humanity slipping away. Despite the excruciating pain that still wracked his body, he forced himself to stand up, towering over Jay in his newly acquired massive size. Jay was right, he was hornier than ever. He ripped off the rest of his pants, seeing his new meat hammer oozing with thick green cum, satisfied with how much pre there was already. Jay didn’t have a choice, they were going to get laid, across the floor if room could handle them. Colin's eyes glared down at Jay, who seemed completely unfazed by the monstrous creature that stood before him, clearly able to contain the rage causing him to grow along side Colin. In fact, he appeared calm and collected, as if he had been expecting this all along. "Now this is a man for me," Jay exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as he reached out and grabbed Colin by the tricep, causing his Colin to snarl and growl in response. Colin didn’t care anymore, he was going to put Jay’s mouth to good use tonight. As Jay and Colin's lips locked, their bodies trembled with energy and their passion grew ever stronger. The intense energy flowing between them seemed to fuel Jay’s transformation, causing both their bodies to grow even more massive. As the passion between Jay and Colin grew stronger, Jay's body continued to transform. His skin turned green and the thick coat of hair covered his chest, only filled in more. His clothing tore apart at the seams, unable to contain his growing muscles as they swelled and bulged. His eyes glowed with an intense green light, reflecting the raw energy coursing through him. He let out a guttural roar as he continued to grow taller, wider, and more muscular. His massive fists balled up as he flexed his arms, veins bulging with power. The ground shook beneath him with every step he took, and the air around him crackled with electricity. Jay was no longer a man but a hulking beast, a force to be reckoned with. The two towering behemoths became lost in their passion, their bodies entwined as they continued to grow and mutate. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing, low growls, and moans of ecstasy. Colin's primal rage and desire were overwhelming as he fought and made love with Jay, each of their movements becoming more violent and destructive than the last. The walls shook and trembled as they crashed through them, the equipment they touched torn apart and destroyed. Colin reveled in the destruction he caused, smashing everything Jay created. The thunder and lightning from the outside storm added to the chaos inside what was left of the building. The sound of the destruction echoed through the entire building as they ravaged each other and everything in their path. The storm was a reflection of the turmoil within the lab, a symbol of the primal rage and passion that consumed the two creatures. Despite the destruction surrounding them, the two lovers were oblivious to everything except each other. Their passion and rage eventually caused the lab to crumble around them. Debris and rubble were strewn everywhere, but Colin and Jay were lost in their own world, their passion and rage fueling their actions. The broke out of the building, run into the storm, and they seemed to draw power from the chaos they had unleashed. Colin and Jay felt the full force of the wind and rain battering against their bodies. It was as if the elements were alive and reacting to their presence, amplifying their power and energy. The lightning strikes illuminated their massive forms, casting eerie shadows that danced around them. They reveled in the feeling of freedom, no longer confined by the walls of the lab. The storm raged on, and they ran deeper into the night, their primal roars and growls blending with the thunder and lightning. The storm raged on as Colin and Jay continued their rampage through the city. The two behemoths reveled in their destructive power, feeding off each other's energy as they smashed and tore through everything in their path. Jay taunted Colin, daring him to match his strength by lifting cars and hurling them through the air. Colin, no longer one to back down from a challenge, responded by ripping apart entire buildings with his bare hands. The two lovers were in their element, lost in the frenzy of destruction and the primal energy that coursed through their bodies. The city was their playground, and they were determined to leave a trail of destruction in their wake. ——-------- Colin sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the disorientation that clung to him. He took a deep breath and tried to piece together what had happened. But his memory remained a blur, and the only thing he could remember was the insatiable passion he still felt for Jay, vaguely remembering cumming several times last night, but it was different, and green? A disturbing thought. As Colin sat up, he took in his surroundings. He was covered in a sheet, and naked, laying on a couch. The living room was sparsely furnished with a few pieces of furniture, all in a drab, neutral color scheme of greys and browns. Despite the lack of decorations, the room had a masculine feel to it. As he was taking everything in, he noticed a naked man in the kitchen, who was fit and muscular, with broad shoulders, a chiseled back, with a bubble bottom. He was cooking eggs and bacon, and the sound and smell of it made Colin realize how hungry he was. Curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up, keeping the bedsheet around his waist. He peeked in, and to his surprise, it was Jay, his boss cooking breakfast. He didn’t know if he should get clothes on or fuck the man right then and there. As Jay turned around to face Colin, a sly grin spread across his face. "Well, good morning there, sleepyhead. I see you finally decided to join the land of the living," he said with a playful wink. Confused, Colin asked, "What happened last night?" Jay's smile faltered slightly as he replied, "Let's just say we got a little carried away, and things got pretty intense." He chuckled before adding, "Several times, actually. But don't worry, you're safe and sound now. We spent the night at my place. And now I’m cooking breakfast.” Colin couldn't shake off the feeling that something else had changed within him. He felt different, stronger somehow. But he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Jay laughed and suggested, "You know, we were naked most of the night, and it's warm in the house. You don't need that sheet." Colin blushed at Jay's suggestion and hesitated for a moment before reluctantly throwing off the sheet. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the polished fridge door nearby and gasped in shock. He could practically taste the testosterone radiating from him. Looking down, he noticed that his whole body was different - more manly all over. Even his once patchy facial hair had filled in. He was nearly as fit as his boss, and he was hung like a horse. He was sure he was still a grower, despite being a soft 7”. Jay hugged Colin, pressing his firm warm body against him. "What happened to me last night?" Colin asked, trying to process all the changes. He couldn't remember anything from the previous night. He grinned and leaned in closer to Colin, his toned and naked body almost brushing against him. "You changed, man. Last night was something else. You became more masculine, more confident, more...well-endowed," he said, giving Colin a wink. Colin blushed at the words, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t get over how completely different he looked. He was taller, more muscular, and definitely more well-endowed. Not significantly, but enough that it would be noticeable in the right clothes. Jay walked over to him and hugged him tightly, his muscular body pressing up against Colin's. "You're a different man now, my friend," he said, his voice low and seductive. "Last night, we shared something special, something primal.” He nonchalantly as he turned on the TV, switching it to the news deliberately, while handing Colin a heaping plate of food. Colin's mind was racing, trying to process all the changes that had happened to him - by just waking up, but Jay’s low husky voice was already engorging his cock as it began stiffened. They sat, eating as the TV showed images of destruction caused by a supposed F2 Tornado flashed on the screen. Cars in trees, busses thrown through multiple buildings. It looked like no storm he had ever seen. Colin recognized the locations, some he hadn’t been to before. But the destruction felt familiar, but he didn’t know why. Despite the news anchor's explanation, he knew that it wasn't a natural phenomenon. It was as if the answer was just out of reach. "That was us," Jay said, his voice laced with a mix of excitement and desire. "And if you don't learn to control your...gift," he said, glancing down at Colin's impressive cock, "you'll make last night's storm look like child's play.” Colin looked down and noticed his bulging package, which seemed to have grown even more since the last time he looked. "What do you mean, 'that was us’?"

As always, Constructive criticism is appreciated. There might be some slight editing issues as I suck at editing. May continue in the future... Newbie Neil's heart was beating quickly as he walked through to the entrance of the gym. He had never been here before but heard from rumors around town how big and impressive the place was, as well as the people who worked here. It wasn't hard for him to guess why they were so popular; there weren't many gyms out there where you could get coached by trainers this big... or any other guy working out here either! The reception desk was manned by one of the most attractive guys he'd ever seen in person. His body was sculpted to perfection – every inch of it bulging with muscle, including his arms which looked like tree trunks wrapped in veins. His chest was covered by a tight shirt with the company logo plastered on it that clung to his body and showed off the thick ripples of each bicep and his beautifully defined pecs. The way the material hugged the contours of his abs made them look even more pronounced than normal. He stood up straight when he saw Neil approach, giving him a polite smile. "Hey man, come on it!" he greeted politely. "Um, hi," said Neil nervously. The huge man, his name tag said "Z", gave him another friendly grin. "You new to the spot?" he asked warmly. Neil felt his face flush and he instinctively looked down at the ground. Of course he would stick out like a sore thumb, he was nowhere near the size of the men who frequented this place. For a split second he thought about turning tail and running out the door. "Yeah. I'm not sure what my membership package includes yet..." replied Neil, embarrassed. "Oh yeah? Well let me show you then." Z bent over to pick something up from under the counter and Neil got a good view of the backside of the muscular stud. His ass cheeks were firm and round. They jiggled slightly under the weight of his body as he picked up whatever it was. When he turned around again Neil noticed that the front of his pants were bulged out quite noticeably. "Here ya go man!" said Z with a friendly smile. "Just fill these forms out while I grab your locker key." Neil sat down and tried his best to hide himself while filling out the form. Maybe if he went unnoticed, he might get a bit more confident at the gym. There were distractions a plenty however and soon Neil found himself staring at the men working out. The first thing that struck him was just how massive everyone was. Every single one of the guys here was clearly larger than life. Even though they were wearing baggy clothes, he could see that they all had amazing bodies underneath. Some wore shirts and shorts but others opted for t-shirts and loose fitting trousers instead. Most of the guys seemed to be lifting weights, but there were a few doing cardio too. All of them were incredibly ripped. Their muscles glistened with sweat and they moved gracefully as they exercised. Each time someone took a break to stretch out their muscles, they flexed them proudly. After finishing the paperwork, Z handed Neil a small plastic card with a number written on it. "That's your locker key bud," he explained. "We're open 24/7 so you can drop by any time! Feel free to hang out, get some reps in, and chat with some of the guys. We're here to help!" With that, Z left Neil alone. Neil, heart still aflutter, used all his determination to step onto floor and climb the stairs up to the cardio stations. He didn't want to make eye contact with anyone, especially not the beefcakes training in front of him. Instead he kept his head down, hopped on the Stairmaster, and surveyed the men below. As he did, a particularly handsome looking man caught his attention. He was tall and slender, with short dark hair, a well trimmed goatee, and piercing blue eyes. His physique screamed "bodybuilder". From the looks of things, he was working out intensely. After watching him for a moment, he realized he must be one of the trainers. Neil watched intently as he lifted heavy barbells above his head. With each rep he grunted loudly and his muscles strained against the weight. When he finally finished the set, he put the weights aside and began stretching out his shoulders and quads. A group of other big guys approached him to ask him questions about his workout routine and he happily obliged. As he talked, Neil couldn't take his eyes away from the gorgeous hunk. He had a perfect jawline, chiseled cheekbones, and perfectly formed lips. His eyebrows arched high on his forehead, framing his bright blue eyes. He looked like a literal Greek God. Neil was entranced by him. He knew that he shouldn't stare, but he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from the muscular god. He wondered what his body looked like underneath the loose fitting clothes. He imagined the incredible musculature of the sexy trainer beneath them. What would it feel like to kiss those full lips? To run his fingers across that thick powerful chest? Would he have a cock as large Z seemed too? Neil's imagination ran wild as he watched the handsome stranger stretch and flex. Finally, he snapped out of his trance when he realized the God was looking up. For a brief second their eyes connected and Neil's heart skipped a beat. Did he notice? Was his attraction too obvious? But in an instant the connection was severed and the sculpted man continued with his workout. Neil continued to spy until he suddenly noticed that his cock was rock solid and throbbing painfully between his legs. This was completely embarrassing. Here he was, sweating his ass off in front of a bunch of strangers and he had an erection because some hot guy was working out and talking about fitness. How pathetic. "Shit," Neil muttered to himself, realizing he needed to do something about his raging boner. Without thinking twice, he jumped off the machine and headed towards the showers, conveniently putting his water bottle in front of his shorts. Once inside, Neil quickly found a shower stall and stripped down to nothing. He let the soothing water wash over him, trying to ignore his pulsing member. After washing his body thoroughly, he stepped into the steam room. Steam filled the air as he breathed deeply. His mind wandered as the heat relaxed him and he felt his cock subside. After some time Neil started hearing some noises from outside the sauna. At first he assumed it was someone else using the facilities but after a few minutes he realized it must be something else. It was a rhythmic thumping sound that quickened and slowed at regular intervals. Curious, Neil left the sauna to investigate. Soon he realized the sounds were coming from the adjacent bathroom stalls and he felt his face flush red again. He'd always heard rumors about this kind of thing happening in the gym, especially this kind of gym. All these huge buff men flexing and working out had to make them horny. I mean, he had been... With the exit past the showers, Neil knew he'd have to pass by unless he wanted to stay in the sauna for an indefinite period of time. Mustering all his courage, Neil started to tip-toe down the hall of showers leading into the locker room. The second his foot passed the noisy stall, the curtain whipped open. Neil gasped. Standing there naked, balls deep inside another man, was none other than the very man he'd been admiring earlier. The greek god was fucking one of the other gym members at high speed. His enormous dick swung wildly back and forth as he pounded the guy's ass relentlessly. Neil couldn't believe it. He stared wide eyed as the beautiful stud fucked the guy's ass with ferocity. Neil's own dick was hard again as he watched the muscles ripple along his torso as he thrust forward and pulled back. Inch by inch he forced his length deeper and further into the guy's hole until his entire shaft disappeared, working the toned ass as hard as he could. After what felt like an eternity Neil realized the god wasn’t looking at his partner, but at Neil. And Neil locked eyes with the god himself. The gorgeous trainer smirked knowingly and sped up his rhythmic fucking. Neil's heart skipped a beat and his mouth fell agape. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He just stood there, locked in place by the power of his stare alone. Finally, the trainer reached around to fondle his partner's nipples. He pinched them roughly causing the guy to gasp. Then he grabbed the base of his long hard dick and slowly stroked it. The guy groaned loudly and leaned heavily against the wall in front of him. Neil couldn't look away as he watched the gorgeous greek god fondle the man he was plowing. His ass slammed faster and faster and soon the man was bucking wildly against the trainer. The bottom stiffened and started screaming obscenities as he came all over the wall and let the cum drip to the floor. The god smiled widely, enjoying the sight of his friend climaxing violently. Then, without warning, he slammed his hips forward once more and groaned loudly. Neil watched in shock as the muscular stud unloaded load after load deep inside his fuck buddy's ass. He moaned and shuddered as his orgasm washed over him. When the mystery man stopped shaking, the god withdrew from him. Neil looked up and met his eyes. The god grinned wickedly and suddenly stepped in front of Neil, grabbing him by the head and kissed him passionately. It was unlike anything Neil had ever experienced. The man's tongue invaded his mouth and teased him. He tasted salty, masculine, and aroused. It sent a wave of pleasure through his body and his cock swelled even harder. Just as quickly, the god broke apart from the kiss. He winked and smacked Neil on the ass playfully. "Welcome to the gym."

Chapter 1 The bell above the door drew my attention as it clanged loudly. While the door swung open, I handed the customer at the counter in front of me their bread and change, but I was looking at Mason, who was walking through the door. I knew I loved Mason when he first walked through that same door two years ago. Same height as me (5’ 10”), but all skinny and slight with an adorable hipster mustache and well-groomed scruff. The second I saw his floofy light brown hair and soulful brown eyes, I was in love, no matter how much I tried to deny it to myself. He dressed like a dork, but he didn’t care. And because he didn’t care, I didn’t care. He had an easy smile, a way that made people feel comfortable, and a whimsical sense of humor. He has a youthfulness about him, and he’s three years older than me. All about him is a quiet confidence. I was hiring an accountant to help save my bakery, but I found the man of my dreams. At the time, I didn’t trust the instant attraction. For one, I was a solitary man. I wasn’t entirely lonely, but I was alone. Sure, I dated, and I was friendly to all my customers. But I was also guarded. I had no close friends, and none of my boyfriends ever got to know the real me. There was physical intimacy, but no emotional intimacy. The only person I could be myself around was my Gramps. I had a secret to protect. More than that, before Mason, every man I’d ever dated had been bigger than me, and I’m a buff, lean, and muscular 190 pounds. I just liked guys who were bigger than me. Hell, I’d held myself back from getting as big as I truly wanted to be because I wanted a to be a big man in a relationship with a bigger man. Every guy I dated I’d met at the gym, and I go to a gay gym that has some bodybuilders—had for years. If you’re picking up guys from a pool of bodybuilders, the chances that they’re going to be bigger than you just go up. I think the fact that Mason was so unlike every other guy I’d dated was part of the appeal. We were the same, but different. Complementary. We both loved to joke around, we both were childish, but we both took the business seriously. If one of us got too silly, the other would bring him back to Earth, and if one of us got too serious, the other would send him into a fit of laughter. He dressed loudly and garishly, but had an unshakably professional demeanor. I dressed plainly and pragmatically, but would laugh and flirt with the customers. Even just how we styled our hair complemented—the hair on his head was free-flowing and wild with a devil-may-care flair, but his facial hair was strictly groomed with no follicle out of place and his mustache tightly curled at the ends. I kept my dark black hair in a youthful cut with the sides buzzed, kept in place with enough product so it didn’t come loose as I worked. I tried to keep myself clean shaven (even though I love facial hair) because it made me look younger than my 30 years, but I often forget to shave, meaning I had lazy (and, if I may say so, sexy) scruff more often than not. In my eyes, Mason was perfect. Before we had even exchanged hellos, I knew I wanted him., on some deep, profound, mystical level, like my ancestors were calling out to me, saying, “That one!” I didn’t even care that I technically had a boyfriend when I met Mason. I just knew I wanted Mason more than any man I’d ever wanted. Two years later, and the bakery and our relationship were thriving. A year ago, Mason had moved in with me, into the apartment above the bakery. All of the businesses on this street have residences above them. We live in a small city just outside New York, a tourist town really. It’s big enough to have the amenities of a typical city, like a professional gym and a thriving arts scene, but small enough to have local charm, like a street full of people living in the apartments above their mom and pop businesses. Since Mason had moved in, we shared pretty much everything. Pretty much. Almost everything. I still had that one big secret I kept from him, but the secret was protecting him, not hurting him. Sometimes I felt guilty that I was holding back a big part of my life from him, but I’d never shared that part of my life with any of my boyfriends. Mason was different, though. I knew the day would come when I’d let him in on it. Just not yet. Mason had proposed to me the day before. We were too busy fucking each other’s brains out the night prior to share any life-altering secrets. As soon as I had an opening, I’d tell him. If I was ready to marry the man, I was ready to share everything everything with him. This day, Mason was dressed unusually. I was used to him dressed like an overgrown toddler: t-shirts with cartoon characters, brightly colored socks, and blue jeans. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wear crocs or suspenders. Sometimes both in the same outfit. This outfit, though… He was in a very sharp suit: a silvery trim fit number with an ice blue shirt (to match my eyes) and a bold purple tie. “Have a nice day,” I told the customer, but my gaze never left Mason. My smile grew larger as he nervously came over to the counter, practically stuttering and stopping with each step. Odd again. I was used to Mason being smooth, charming, and confident—verging on cocky. Today, though, he was trying to hold back his anxiety. Thankfully, he relaxed a little when he saw my smile. “Someone’s dressed up,” I said, eyeing him up and down. “You’re cutting the line,” a customer complained to Mason. I realized I’d been neglecting my customers, turned to them, and said, “He’s cutting nothing, ma’ am. He works here. He’s my boyfriend.” “Fiancé,” Mason corrected. “Fiancé. Right.” It had been about twelve hours since Mason had popped the question; I was still adjusting. The only person I’d told was my Gramps. I smiled at my customer. “Just a moment, please.” I turned back to Mason. “Where were we?” Mason leaned across the counter and kissed me. “You like?” he asked, already clearly knowing I loved it. I loved him in everything. Or nothing. The same customer, an irksome woman in a bright pink sweater, cleared her throat impatiently. “Kayla, get off prep and help the customers for a little bit,” I said, taking the kerchief I used as a hairnet off my head. “I’m going to the office with Mason.” “Got it, Roy,” Kayla said as she swooped in to help the customers. I ducked under the opening in the counter (rather than opening it) and followed Mason to our office. Once the door was closed behind us, I turned around to undo my drawstring. “Again?” He asked, stopping my hands from untying my pants. “Three times last night wasn’t enough?” He smirked with sexual tension as he walked over to the other side of the office, putting space between us. Our sexual dynamic was part of what I loved about him. He preferred to bottom, I preferred to top. I was usually the aggressor, and he usually gave the green light. But he said no just enough to keep me simmering like a teapot, and initiated just often enough to keep me on my toes. I couldn’t help that I was blessed with a high libido and an 8-inch dick. Mason himself had a lovely 6 inches and had, in my experience, a higher than average sex drive. It just was a little lower than mine. Since sex was a no-go, I’d settle for some above the clothes fun. I slinked towards him, ready to practically leap on him—a dangerous prospect as I easily outweighed him by more than 50 pounds, all of it muscle—but he stopped me again. “You’re covered in flour and god knows what else, and this is a new suit,” he warned. Then, realizing he wanted his lips pressed against mine, he added, “Proceed with caution.” I walked over to him slowly and kissed him tenderly. I wanted to throw my firm, large arms around him and cradle him against my proud chest, but I restrained myself. Mason moaned in delight. As the kiss neared its end, I slapped him firmly but playfully on the ass, and a cloud of particles erupted from the impact. I grinned widely, but he spun around trying to look at his own ass, his recent anxiety threatening to surface again. “Damn it, Roy,” he said, laughing. “Did it leave a mark?” He looked at me the way one would look at a cute puppy that had peed on the rug. There was a white outline of my meaty hand on his tiny ass, and I said, “Looks perfect to me.” “Really?” he asked. “I’m meeting your grandfather in an hour, and I want to look my best.” I kissed him again quickly and then said, “Gramps will love you because I love you.” Mason tensed a little. “I wish I were so certain, Roy. The man raised you all by himself. You call him every day. It’s weird, but sweet.” “It’s not weird,” I said, a little defensively. I knew it was weird, though. Everything about Gramps was weird. But, like me, he kept all of the true weirdness a deep secret. All of our weirdness. Mason implying that the nurturing, caring, intense bond between Gramps and me was weird… Well, if he knew Gramps as well as I did, those qualities wouldn’t even make his list. “It’s kinda weird,” Mason said. “You blow him kisses goodbye over the phone.” “He’s my Gramps,” I replied, unsure how that was weird. Reassuringly, he added, “It’s more sweet than weird. If you weren’t a little weird, I wouldn’t be drawn to you. Weird but sweet is my favorite quality in a man.” I blushed a little. Mason continued, “Your grandfather is your entire family. You’ve told me as much, and I listen.” Mason began lecturing me to prove how much he listened, counting off important points on his fingers. “You have no brothers or sisters, no aunts or uncles. Your father was out of the picture before you were born, your mother died of kidney disease before your first birthday, and your grandmother died of a heart attack when you were three.” He stopped counting and threw his hands in the air. “Honey, I’m not just meeting your grandfather. I’m meeting your entire family at once. I’m allowed to be a little nervous.” With a kindness in my tone, I said, “I’m just not used to seeing this color on you.” “He’s never shown the slightest interest in meeting me, and we’ve invited him down eight or nine times this past year. I mean, you’ve visited my folks five times already, and I’ve never even spoken with your grandfather over the phone. Then, you tell him you’re getting married, and he drives seven hours the very next day because, all of a sudden, he has to meet me? That bodes poorly. I should’ve met with him before I proposed to you.” I threw a confused look at him. “To what? Get his permission? Barter for my dowry?” “Don’t mock me.” “I’m not. Gramps was excited when I told him we’re getting married. He’s about to take that two-month cruise for his 81st birthday.” That was a lie. There was no cruise, but Gramps would be busy for two months, and it would take too much explaining to tell the truth. “That’s the only reason he wants to meet you so fast. Relax.” “You could take your own advice,” Mason chided. “You’ve been an over-eager little boy since he said he was visiting.” “Over-eager?” “I know every inch of your body.” Mason prodded my chest. “Your pecs are pumped, mister. You went to the gym this morning. Think I wouldn’t notice?” “I go to the gym five days a week.” “Yeah,” Mason said. “In the afternoons. Mornings are busy for bakers, you leave your evenings free for me, and you go to bed every night at 8. So, all you have left are afternoons. You wanted to look your biggest to impress him, and you wanted to have your whole afternoon free to play with him.” I was guilty as charged. Mason added, “Even though he said he was only coming for lunch, you cleared your whole afternoon.” “What’s your point?” I asked. Matter-of-factly, as if delivering the verdict of a trial, he said, “This is a big deal to you too. Therefore, it has to go perfectly.” “It will go perfectly because you’re perfect. All’s good with Gramps.” Mason paced a little. “That’s another thing. What do I call him?” “Whatever you want. Gramps is chill.” “You’ve only ever called him Gramps. Is that what I should call him? Or do I call him sir? Or Mr. Whitaker?” “Why would you call him that?” I asked with a slight laugh. “My last name is Whitaker. Not his. His last name is Morrow.” Mason stopped pacing. “Should I call him Mr. Morrow, then? What’s his first name?” “Lucian,” a grizzled voice came from the office door as it opened. “My name is Lucian Morrow.”

Hey guys, I'm a few hours early, but figured why not.. It's a long one. Enjoy! I was working as a financial analyst in this topsy-turvy, Covid crazy market and it had taken its toll on my mind and body. I was told I needed to get away. Life had become too complicated and stressful. A few weeks in the mountains, away from everyone, including my phone and computer is what it eventually came down to, and not by choice. I was barely sleeping and ended up being cranky during the day, which would put my co-workers on edge. I would eat poorly, when I ate. No breakfast, fast food for lunch, and maybe take-out for dinner, if they delivered to my office. The pouch had returned and others had noticed. My 6’1”, 175-pound swimmers build had fallen off as I had not been to the gym in what seemed like forever. My once toned muscles were sagging or replaced with a layer of fat. My dark blue eyes had dark circles under them and my normally well-kept blonde hair was unkept, long, and showed signs of gray. After the incident on the office floor, my boss, Chuck, pulled me into his office and laid it out for me. Chuck hired me 9 years ago fresh out of college. He saw I had knack and a spark for understanding and predicting stocks. He said I could go far if I put the right attitude and aptitude toward my work. And I did. For 9 long years, I devoted my life to the job. Working late, overtime, weekends, not taking vacations, whatever it took to get the job done and to keep the clients happy, and rich. But, at the same time, I also led an active personal life, dating men who shared the same passion for life as me, working out religiously, eating sensibly. I had been on track for promotions, and got them. Then Covid hit. My life went sideways. Dating came to a screeching halt. Everyone was afraid to go out and meet, even for a quick cup of coffee in the park. This is to say nothing of the market for the first few months, and the lay-offs most companies were doing. Everyone in the office was petrified of screwing up, knowing the company was looking for a reason to trim the fat to keep a healthy bottom line. Then the gyms closed. That hit me hard. I have some weights and equipment at home, but like most people, I relied on the gym. I tried to buy stuff online, but the backlog was weeks, if not months. I gained a few pounds, but figured I could adjust my meals to compensate. Yeah, that didn’t work. Skipping breakfast was bad, but compensating later in the day made it worse. 15 pounds later and my mood darkened. I was irritable at work and home. Staying up too late, worrying about my job, my weight, my sex life, my everything… Chuck watched the slow spiral. He would casually mention to me to take a few days off to recharge and clear my head, but I shrugged it off. I had work to do. Who would get it done, if not me? Then I snapped. It just happened one Thursday. The computer would not work, the paper in the copier jammed, someone made a quiet comment I thought was about me, and the flood gates opened. Next thing I know, Chuck and I are sitting in his office, door shut, blinds closed, him looking at me with the concern on his face only a friend would show, and me…deflated. My energy gone, my breathing shallow and restless. I sat slumped in the comfortable leather wingback chair staring at nothing in particular, but Chuck was right in front of me, in a similar chair, not behind his desk. My sleeves rolled half way up my arms, shirt partially untucked, sweat stains on my chest and under my arms. My eyes red and puffy. My throat dry. He softly says, “Cole, you better?” He hands me another cup of water. I take a sip; the cold water feels harsh as it goes down my parched throat. “That was quite a show out there.” He’s calm and not passing judgement. I’m still hazy as to what I did, but I can imagine it was pretty bad. I glance up, and he cracks half a smile to let me know he gets it. I shrug my shoulders, not sure how to answer his question, but knowing I want to just cry. It’s still inside of me, this pain, thought of failure, how my life will never get back to what it was a few months ago. I feel his strong hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze to let me know he’s here for me. He leans back into his chair, his piercing brown eyes, looking at me. “Cole.” He says it in a manner that he wants me to look at him. I look up. “I need you to take some time off.” I shut my eyes, knowing this was coming, but am still stunned to hear it. Right now, my job is all I have left of my life, to take that away, even for a day, I’d be lost. “I know you hate to take a day off, unless it’s absolutely necessary, but…” I look at him again, “It’s necessary.” He says resolutely. I sigh. I gather myself and say with as much of a positive attitude as I can, “Ok, I can take a long weekend, say next Monday and Tuesday?” Chuck shakes his head from side to side. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He puts his hand on my knee and quietly says, “I’m not talking a few days, Cole. I need you take a few weeks off.” My head snaps up and when I open my mouth to protest, he squeezes my knee, letting me know to be calm. I take a few breaths and another sip of water. “Buddy, whatever is inside of you has been building for a while. A few days won’t cure it. You need to get away from this.” He spreads his arms around the room. “A few weeks at minimum.” I stare at him and think ‘My job is my life. What will I do?’ He senses my thoughts. He says, “You will still have a job when you return, but as of the end of work today, you’re on vacation.” “But, my clients, my files, my…” I stammer. “Will be taken care of.” He says without hesitation, his eyes looking directly at me. “But…” I say with a slow, unsure voice. “We will handle it.” I fidget in the chair, looking around his office. “Cole, the company existed before you got here, it will survive a few weeks without you, trust me.” I sniffle. His hand tightens. “You will work through your pain and come back a stronger man.” There’s no getting around this. I know I need to take the time. He’s half offering, half ordering me to do it. I need to accept that he’s trying to help. “Ok.” I whisper. I think for a few moments, “Can I take my...” “Nope.” He says decisively. “Work phone, laptop, anything else work-related stays here.” I frown, but know he’s right. He checks his watch. “Listen. Here’s what I’m going to do for you.” I glance up at him. He’s got a devilish smile on his face. “The company owns a cabin in the mountains. About 4 hours away.” I’ve heard about this place. The highest people in the company whisper about it in the hallways as some kind of Eden in the woods. “This time of year, nobody is there.” He says this spreading his arms wide. “Let me check with the big-wigs and if it’s open, I’m going to block off a month for you there.” I sigh thinking of the cost. God; food, travel there, packing, what do I take… My mind has wandered and Chuck’s voice brings me back, “…are the nicest caretakers around.” He’s smiling at me. “They will take care of your every need. You just ask, and they will get it for you. Now, I don’t mean go overboard and have steak and lobster every night with a nice Pinot, but don’t live on stale bread and water either.” He winks at me and I crack a smile. “Ok.” Chuck claps his hands in victory. He stands up, puts a hand out to me and I stand to shake it. He pulls me in for a hug. “Remember, this time away is for you to recharge. A month in the mountains, away from this rat race.” He rolls his eyes. “Maybe I should go out there,” He points to the office floor outside his office, “and let it all out.” I smile, thinking what I sight that would be, and now realize what I sight I must have been. My smile fades. “I guess I need to apologize to a bunch of people before I go.” He just looks at me and nods, knowing it won’t be easy. “That will be the toughest thing you have to do for the next month.” His hand is on my shoulder. He squeezes and continues, “Go out there, do your thing, apologize, and get your stuff ready. The moment I get the ‘ok’, you’re out of here.” I glance at my watch. He sarcastically says, “Leave that at home too. Up there, live your day by the sun, not your watch.” I crook an eye at him and ask quietly, “How’d you get so good at this?” He wraps an arm around my shoulder as he leads me to the door. He says with all seriousness, “You’re not the first person to stumble. I’ve been where you are.” He pats me on the back as I open the door. He points his finger at me. “Give me half an hour, and be ready.” I nod and walk across the floor to stares and not-too-subtle glances as his door shuts behind me. ** The four-hour drive on a late Friday afternoon was pretty easy. The directions were straightforward. Me in my burgundy 2019 Volvo S60 4 dr. sedan, driving west into the dusk, toward an apparent palatial estate of a mountain house. I was thinking ‘cabin in the woods with an outhouse for a bathroom and your bath is the creek half mile away’, but Chuck made it out to be a bit more than that. Not sure if he was buttering me up, or if I was exaggerating it in my head. He made me promise not to take any electronics, including my cell phone, Ipad, headphones, even my Movado watch had to sit this one out. He said there is a phone in the house, but it only calls to the caretaker’s home. ** As I pull off the main road, I realize how remote the place is. The driveway is a narrow gravel path. I click on my high-beams and take it nice and slow. On either side of the road is a dense tree and shrubbery line, well-manicured and in pristine condition. I guess it’s to keep the spectators from getting a view of the estate or house or log cabin, or whatever is at the other end of the driveway. About ¼ mile later, I come to the iron gate he mentioned. I roll the window down, punch the code into the keypad and silently pray the gate opens. Once I hit enter, I wait a second or two and then a spotlight comes on and the gate slowly rolls to the right. I notice a well-placed camera under the light. They know I’m here, that’s for sure. As the gate finishes opening, I think, ‘Well, that’s one hurdle down’. On the other side of the gate, the path widens and becomes a wide cement paved road. I breathe a sigh of relief. The road winds thru another wooded area for about a mile, then the tree line ends and the road heads up an incline. I see meadows on both sides of the driveway. I can see house lights in the distance and some off to the side, about half mile away. I figure one set is the cabin, the other, the caretaker’s home. I follow the road up and it winds back into a tree line. After about 3 minutes, I pass the turnoff to the caretaker’s house, which I catch a quick glimpse at and think, ‘it’s a pretty nice place in-and-of-itself.’ I roll on for another 3 minutes. The trees end and the road pours onto a circular brick paved driveway leading to an actual log cabin. The lights are on, in anticipation of my arrival. ‘Shit’ I think to myself. ‘Pretty fucking nice.’ It’s a log cabin, but not the one from Little House on the Prairie. More like a large two story ‘A frame’ house with decks and patios around it. I park my car, get out, and grab one of my bags. I walk to the front door and put the key in the lock, thinking ‘last hurdle’. If the key works, I’m golden, if not, I’m sure the cops will be here rather quickly. The key works. The door opens to a wide two-story foyer with recessed lights and hardwood floors all around. I do the quick check of the house, nobody here. I grab the rest of my bags from the car, lock it, then head back inside. I relock the front door and carry my bags to the living room. As I set them down, I see the fireplace is on, real logs, not a gas one. I head to the kitchen area on the other side of the open space and find a note. The handwriting is immaculate and is definitely feminine. Dear Mr. Cole, Welcome to the cabin. Mr. Fisher and myself are here to help you with anything you need. Please feel free to call us using the phone on the kitchen wall. It is a direct line to us, no need to dial. It will ring automatically on our side. The refrigerator is fully stocked. If there is anything you need, food wise, please let us know. If you would like me to make your meals, just let me know and we can create a menu based on your preferences. Linens are changed every 3 days, unless you request them to be changed more often. Laundry can be done when requested. There is a pamphlet on the counter with instructions on how to work the hot tub, whirlpool, and sauna. You will notice there are no TVs or radios in the house, nor is there an internet connection. The cabin was designed for the occupants to rest and relax. There is a library off the living room with a full selection of classic novels and some more modern tomes. If you would like a massage or help with exercising, please let us know. Mr. Fisher is very adept at helping people work out their kinks. The workout room is in the pool house, next to the pool. We took the liberty of turning the heater on in the pool as it is still chilly here at night. Graciously, Mrs. Fisher. I re-read the letter and put it down. I look around again and get my bearings. I go the fridge, open it, and find Mrs. Fisher was correct in that it is fully stocked. I see a selection of white wines from Pinot Grigio to Riesling. There are a couple different bottles of beer as well. I pull out a Stella and see the bottle opener on the side of the fridge. I check the freezer and find a frosted Stella glass on the middle shelf. I think, ‘Yeah, I could get used to this’. I pour the beer and start to wander around. The living room is sunken, and is also 2 stories with a balcony overlooking it. The furniture is rustic, over-sized, leather, and very comfortable. The walls have artwork from local artists. I do not recognize the names, but their work is outstanding. The fieldstone fireplace and hearth sit along the outside wall and there are French doors on each side. The curtains on the doors are closed, but I wander over and take a look out. Right outside is a brick paver patio leading to the rectangular pool. The light in the pool is on and casts a green blue light into the clear night sky. I turn back toward the house and see the door to the library off to a side. I click the light on and peek inside. I see floor to ceiling oak bookcases crammed with hardback books. There are windows on the far side of the room and two leather Duncan overstuffed sofas with rolled arms sitting opposite each other in the middle of the room on top of an Oriental rug. There is Cross Island lift top coffee table between them with a vase of fresh white Peony’s and purple and pink Irises. I click the light off and turn to see the dining room. There is a Florentina dining table and chairs in the middle of the room. I see a James Moder Wide Palace Ice Light chandelier hanging over the table and a Mahogany buffet table at the far end of the room. The hardwood floor is covered by a Channing Persian-style Hand tufted wool rug. There are more French doors leading to a private patio with a glass table and set of 6 chairs. The view opens to a wooded area and a small fountain. I come back thru the foyer and I’m back in the kitchen. I refill my beer, and take a look around. The fridge is a Viking 36-inch-wide French door in brushed stainless steel. Next to it is a matching granite counter top which extends around the whole kitchen. The stove, also Viking, is a 48-inch, 6 burners in stainless steel. The island has the same granite top with a deep sink. The pantry door is shut. No need to check it out, as I’m sure it’s full of food. The cabinets are glass with mullion inserts. I see plenty of fine Blue Willow China and then regular daily use plates and glasses. I grab my bags and head back to the foyer and up the steps to the 2nd floor. Again, hardwood floors throughout, with a carpet runner. I see three bedrooms; all seem to be master suites. I find one with a made bed and assume this is my room. It has a vaulted ceiling with exposed wood beams and a Hunter Ceiling fan hanging down. The king-sized bed has plenty of pillows for me and the dark blue spread compliments the lighter blue area rug under the bed. I see a walk-in closet on one side of the room and a bureau against the wall opposite the bed. There are French doors on the opposite side of the room. I walk to the doors, open them and step out onto a 10-foot wide by 20-foot-long balcony, overlooking the front yard and nearby woods. I can hear the crickets chirping. I take a deep breath and can feel some of the tension leave my body. I step back inside and pull the doors shut. I step into the master bath and see it’s just as impressive as the rest of the house. Double vanity, walk-in shower, heated towel rack, and a large soaking tub, with enough room to fit two adults. I put my empty beer glass on the night stand and flop onto the bed. I close my eyes and think, ‘No wonder this place has been kept a secret.’ I run my hands over my face and suddenly feel tired. I decide to call it an evening. I notice there are no clocks in the room. I remember what Chuck said, ‘Live your day by the sun’. I pick up one of my bags, pull out my bathroom items and put them on the bathroom counter. I pull out my PJ bottoms and change into them. I head back to the bathroom and finish up in there. I take a look at myself in the mirror and am suddenly ashamed of what I see. Tired from a simple four-hour drive, bags under my eyes, a flabby stomach where a six-pack used to sit. I glance away embarrassed, but then look back, and stare at my reflection. I say out loud, “Cole, you have a month to get your shit together. You better fucking do it.” I suck in my gut and can see glimpses of my six-pack. I think, ‘There’s still hope.’ And smile to myself. I turn the lights off and head to the bed. As I lay down and pull the covers up, I realize how quiet it is. No city noises. No cars, subway, planes, people, or TVs from the neighbor’s apartment. No one on the street yelling obscenities at their boyfriend or girlfriend. No kids shrieking or parents fighting. Just peace and quiet. I drift off. I wake the next morning, Saturday morning. No clue what time it is, but I know it’s well past the time I would normally get up as the sunlight is streaming into the room thru the curtains. I stare at the ceiling fan and the wood beams beyond it. My mind drifts to work. Did I set my out of office response? I did I update the message on my phone? Then I remember what Chuck said as he was ushering me out, “Cole, we’ll handle this, you handle this.” And he lightly tapped the side of my head. I take a deep breath and let my body relax as much as I can. After a few minutes, I get out of bed and pad into the bathroom and do my thing. After I wash my hands and run some cold water on my face, I get changed into a pair of dark blue nylon gym shorts and a yellow dry mesh t-shirt. I pull out my size 11 Brooks Cascadia trail running shoes and head downstairs. The fire is out. Oops, I probably should have put it out last night before I went up. Have to tuck that away for next time. The house is flooded with sunlight. I head to the French doors and pull them open. The sun is half way up the morning sky. Guessing it’s either 10 or 1030. The morning chill has worn off and the day is heating up. I walk out onto the patio and see the pool and deck furniture. There is also a Weber Genesis II Stainless steel gas grill off to a side. I wander around the pool to the pool house and take a peek inside. It’s fully loaded with equipment. I’ll have plenty of time to get re-acquainted with everything. I start to stretch. I sit on the warming brick pavers and can feel the tightness in my muscles. This run won’t be fun, but I have to do it. I’ve got to start somewhere and right here, right now is the best place and time. After 10 minutes, I feel loose, or loose enough not to do any permanent damage. I head to the edge of the patio and look out over the woods and fields below. It’s absolutely gorgeous. I take another deep breath and jog off the edge. I head down an obvious path and it winds into the woods. I take it nice and slow to start, remembering I’ll have to climb this hill to get home. I get a mile or so into my jog and find the path has leveled out. The trees are thinning as well. I come to the edge of a meadow and I see a pond in the middle of it. I continue my jog thru the warm fresh air and the path takes me right to the pond. I see an area has been cleared and there are a couple of benches there, creating a sitting area which faces the pond. I can hear frogs croaking. They fall silent as I pass them. As I circle the pond, I decide this makes a logical turning point and I head back. I get back into the wooded area and am half way up the hill when I see a green John Deere 3032E tractor and trailer in the middle of the path. I slow my jog and come to a walk as I near it. I call out, “Hello?” I hear a deep manly voice respond from in the trees, “Hello there.” I glance around, but do not see the man who called back. I try again, “Hello? My name is Cole. I’m staying at the cabin.” The voice comes back, a bit closer this time, “Oh. Hello Mr. Cole. My name is Mr. Fisher. I’m the care-taker for the property.” I can now see him emerging through the oaks and pines. My breath catches. When I think care-takers, I think an elderly married couple who live on the property as a way to make some extra money for their retirement. She dresses in flowery printed dresses and has gray hair bundled up on her head, held there by bobby pins and maybe a scarf. She’ll have an apron on all the time and probably has gardening gloves stashed away in a pocket. She’ll smell of apple pie and has a warm, grandmotherly smile, which puts everyone at ease. She’ll pinch your cheeks and want to hug you every time you see her. He’ll be dressed in overalls, a flannel shirt, and Workhog XT VentTEK work boots, even in hottest August. He’ll be wearing a straw hat and have a sprig of grass in his mouth. There’ll be a red and black bandana in his back pocket to wipe the sweat off his brow; and his hands will be calloused and worn, but strong and nimble. There will be a pair of old work gloves hanging out of his other back pocket. He’ll look at you, squinting thru one eye, pointing his pinky at you as he dispenses valuable life lessons. The man who stepped towards me, was not that. I had to shut my mouth for fear of gaping at him too long. Mr. Fisher was probably my age, but he was 6’3”, easily 230-pounds, and not wearing overalls or a flannel shirt. Wavy dark brown hair, matted down by the first signs of sweat, cover his head. He has 5-day stubble on his face. High cheek bones and a strong jaw line help define his face. He’s wearing a sweaty dry-fit mesh t-shirt, that is snug around his chest and free flowing around his tight waist. His arms are like ham hocks hanging off his shoulders. His biceps are engorged with blood due to the work he was doing before I interrupted him. I see veins crawling over them. He’s wearing tan work pants and I can see he does have on work boots. I laugh to myself, ‘I got one thing right.’ As he steps thru the trees and closer to the path, I see his bright green eyes size me up in about a second. He pulls off a work glove and sticks his hand out. In his deep voice he says, “Good morning Mr. Cole. How are you today? Did you sleep well?” I break my stare, glancing from left to right, then cautiously back at him. I look into eyes, smile, and say, “Good morning Mr. Fisher. I’m doing well today, thank you. Yes, I did sleep well last night. Probably one of the best nights of sleep in a very long time.” We glance at each other again, and I say, “Great morning for a run.” He nods, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his wrist, his bicep bulging, I stare at it a bit too long and he notices. I quickly add, “I haven’t been able to do this,” I nod toward the trail “in a very long time. I’m glad I did.” I look back at him and he’s grinning, chest puffed out, sweat stain running down the deep crevice between his pecs. My tongue quickly flicks out to wet my lips. I try not to stare, but the sight of his body makes it hard not to. I feel a twitch down below. I shuffle my feet and lean against a tree to stretch my calf muscle, trying to casually hide my excitement. I embarrassingly say, “Need to stay loose. Don’t want cramp up on my first run.” I nervously smile to him. He just watches me with a grin that I think means he knows what’s up. I say, “Yeah, the house is bigger than I thought, and I have it all to myself.” I cringe and think to myself, ‘Fuck, I hope that doesn’t sound like I’m asking him to come over’. He smiles back, “Yeah, the cabin is on the large side when there’s just one person there.” Now the awkward silence. It lasts for just 10 seconds, but seems like eternity. My breathing which had been heavy due to the jog has slowed. His sweating has eased, but he is still breathing deeply. His chest rising and falling. I notice his pert nipples thru the fabric. I break the silence, “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Fisher. I’ll let you get back to work.” I smile to him. He looks me over once more and says in a confident tone, “Since this is your first jog in a while, you will want to take some extra care in your warm down. Remember to stretch everything or you may cramp up later today.” I nod in appreciation. “I’ll be up to the cabin later today, if you need help with anything.” ‘Oh fuck, did he just come on to me?’. I look at the path, thinking, ‘Not sure Chuck would appreciate me getting it on with the help on the first day.’ I look back at him and graciously say, “Thank you. You know where I’ll be.” He winks at me. I turn from him and start my jog back up the hill, trying to keep my inflating unit from banging my leg. I get back to the house, run up to the bedroom, grab a towel, lay on the bed, and proceed to jerk off, remembering what the gorgeously muscular Mr. Fisher looks like. Afterwards, I shower, shave, and get ready for the rest of the day, I head to the kitchen and look for the microwave. I find it and spot a clock on it. ‘Ha!’ It’s around noon. I open the fridge and find more than enough ingredients for a salad. I fill a plate, grab a glass of ice water and head to the pool area. I wander back in and go into the library. I don’t find a classic I’d like to read, but spot a book on yoga and relaxation. ‘What are the odds’ I think to myself, rolling my eyes. I pull it down and head back out. I take my time enjoying the salad and realize I’m eating fresh vegetables, like picked off the plant within a few days, not something I hurriedly grabbed at the local mini-mart that was God knows how many days old. I savor every bite. I start to read thru the book. Much of the first few pages are common sense tips, which I need to re-incorporate into my life. Get decent sleep, drink plenty of water, stretch your neck, etc. I move from the patio table to a deck lounge chair and continue to read. The warm sun is overhead. A gentle breeze runs between the house and the pool house. Next thing I know, I’m re-awakened by the sound of Mr. Fisher’s voice. “Mr. Cole?” I hear distantly. “Mr. Cole, are you awake?” My eyes slowly open, the book has fallen to the ground and my hands are laying at my sides. I squint thru the bright sunlight to see him standing near me, but off to the side. “Good afternoon Mr. Fisher.” I groggily say smiling to him. I quickly collect myself and continue, “Sorry, guess I dozed off.” He smiles back to me. I turn, get up, and my leg cramps. I stumble a bit and fall toward the patio table. He is by my side in a flash, gripping my elbow with a strong hand. I reach my other hand to the table and steady myself. With concern in his voice, he asks, “Are you alright?” His hand still holding me, his fingers tight on my skin. I can feel the warmth of his body and can smell the sweat on him. He easily guides me to a chair and I sit. “I am, thank you.” He slowly releases my arm and takes a seat next to me, his eyes scanning my body. “I guess the jog and sun wore me out more than I thought.” He nods. My leg cramps again and I wince in pain. I reach for it. “You didn’t stretch after your jog, did you?” He asks in a knowing tone. I sheepishly nod no. I can’t really tell him I was busy taking care of a raging hard-on, rather than stretching out. “Ok.” He stands, pushes his chair back and turns to me. “Turn your chair.” I do. “Stick your leg out as much as you can.” I attempt to straighten it, but it sits at a 30-degree angle. I hear him chuckle lowly. He reaches both hands out and takes ahold of my calf. I can see the muscles on the lower part twitching. He sees it as well and starts to gently massage the area. His strong fingers rub, then dig into the muscle, loosening the fibers. The cramp eases after a few minutes of his ministrations. I sigh in relief. He hears it, smiles, while still looking down, and says, “I guess ‘lesson learned’, Mr. Cole?” I hear a bit of sarcasm in his voice, but can tell he’s not being malicious. I give it right back to him, “Yes sir, Sargent Fisher.” He glances up and winks. “Also, you can just call me ‘Cole’. The ‘Mr.’ part makes me feel like old.” “Ok, but only if you call me Jake. ‘Mr. Fisher’ are my dad and my Pappy.” He stands up and gets back into his seat. He crosses his legs and his huge work boots clunk into the table. We both laugh. Now the conversation starts to flow. “Ah, so you and your wife are the caretakers?” I ask digging for info. “No.” I raise an eyebrow. “The ‘Mrs. Fisher’ is my Nona.” I nod in understanding. “Nona is still able to get around and do things, but Pappy passed away a few years ago. I was brought on to help and do the heavy lifting. Kind of say, I like the gig. The work isn’t too bad. Just maintain the estate and help the people who stay here with any issues, you know like cramps in their legs.” Now it’s his turn to raise an eyebrow and smile at me. “Sorry to hear about your grandfather.” He nods in appreciation. “Is there a lot of heavy lifting?” He shrugs his boulder shoulders. “How big is the estate?” “It’s a couple hundred acres.” My eyes get large. He sees it, smiles, and says, “Yeah, we don’t get too many ‘regular people’ here.,” He uses air quotes. He looks at the house and pool. “Usually, it’s one of the execs looking to bring side-fling up for a good time weekend. Or maybe one of their families over a holiday.” He’s very nonchalant about it. He puts his hands behind his head and intertwines his fingers. His biceps flex and I try not to stare. “There are quite a few paths to maintain. And I have to mow the meadow area every few weeks, but besides that, and taking down a few dead trees every now and then, not much really happens.” “Sounds like a pretty sweet gig, like you said.” “Yeah, I get to look after Nona as well. She’s not as young as she thinks she is anymore.” We both chuckle. “I mean, she still can put me in my place with a glance, but she makes a mean lasagna, so I am happy to help out.” “Must be hard on your social life, being so far from town…and people?” “Eh, I sneak off once the chores are done.” He says with a knowing wink. “Town is not that far, comparatively speaking.” I give him a sly smile and ask, “You ever bring a date up to ‘the big house’, just for some fun?” I spread my arms around and say, “What girl wouldn’t like this view.” I think to myself ‘and a view of your body in a speedo or less.’ He lets out a raucous laugh, “If I brought a date here, I think Nona would have my hide.” I notice he didn’t say ‘girl’, but ‘date’. Maybe… “I think my leg is feeling better and I’m sure you have better things to do” I am cut off by the French doors opening. I turn to see a spry elderly woman walk out. Must be Mrs. Fisher. Jake immediately stands, he looks down at the ground. She speaks with authority in her voice, “Jake, I believe you have some trees to trim in the lower meadow. I think you’ve taken up enough of Mr. Cole’s time.” He quietly says, “Yes, Nona.” He turns and starts to walk to the path. When he gets to the edge, he turns and says to me, “Please remember to fully stretch before and after each jog. It would not do you any good to be laid up while you were here.” I take his meaning as something other than what he says out loud for his Nona. He turns and I see his broad back descend the hill. I hear tractor start and drive away. “Mr. Cole.” I turn to Mrs. Fisher and see she is half of what I expected. She’s about 5’3”, maybe 100 pounds. She’s got the gray hair and gardening gloves, but past that, she’s her own person. “I’m sorry if my grandson was bothering you. Sometimes he gets chatty with the guests.” I see steel in her eyes and realize not much gets past her. Now I can see why Jake hasn’t brought any dates up here. “I hope you got settled in last night.” I nod. “Very nice. Would you like me to prepare any meals for you? I see you found something for lunch.” She glances at the dirty plate. “I did, thank you. I made a salad. The vegetables were very fresh. Much better than I am used to in the city.” She smiles. “As to making meals for me…” She looks at me like she really wants to cook for me to show off her skills. “Maybe a dinner or two a week?” She nods ok, but I can tell she’s disappointed. “Maybe more as time goes on.” I wave my arms around and says, “This is new to me and a bit overwhelming right now.” She nods, “Maybe in a few days, after I get comfortable. Right now, I need to spend time thinking some things through and I’m not sure what my appetite will be like. I would hate for you to cook a full meal and I only eat a small portion of it.” “I understand.” She responds flatly. “If you change your mind, just let me know.” I nod. “I’m going to make a quick check of the house and I’ll leave you be. May I take the plate in?” I get up to hand it to her. She turns to go but I ask a question, “May I ask what the weather is going to be like for the next few days? I’d hate to be out on the property and get stuck in a rain shower. Not having a radio or TV, makes it rather hard to find out.” She smiles and with a slightly condescending tone in her voice says, “You’re on one of the highest points of land around. You’ll be able to see and hear any storms while they are far enough away.” I try to let it go and say, “Thank you Mrs. Fisher.” I return to the lounge chair and lay back down. I pick up the book and flip to the page I was on prior to falling asleep. I hear the French doors shut. The rest of the afternoon is uneventful. I read a few chapters of the book. I grab a yoga mat from the exercise room and try a few of the easier poses. After that I go for a swim. The water is warm, but not too warm to make it uncomfortable. I wander into the exercise room and do a light chest and arm workout. I’ve got a month to get back into shape. No need to pull something on the first day. I make my dinner, some salmon, vegetables, and rice. I find a bottle of Pinot Noir and remember what Chuck said, but then think, ‘he’s not here’. I open the bottle and let it breathe while the salmon is resting. I find a loaf of sour dough bread and cut off a few slices. I take everything back to the patio and sit to enjoy the meal in the fading light. After I clean up, I grab a pen and paper and map out my plan for the upcoming week, while sitting in one of the one leather chairs in the living room. Not having my cell phone calendar makes it a bit tougher, but I manage to put a rough schedule together. It includes jogging daily, working out, reading, and yoga. I also write up a quick meal plan based on what I saw in the pantry, fridge, and freezer. I realize I will need to contact Mrs. Fisher for a few more items. I write up a quick grocery list and leave it on the counter with her name on it. Maybe she’ll pick it up next time she comes up. I grab a Granny Smith apple and head back to the patio. Night has set in and I can hear owls in the surrounding trees. I also hear crickets singing their song in the grass outside the pool area. I begin to take stock of my life and realize that while I may not be able to afford an estate like this one, I can afford to get away for a week every now and then. I take a few deep breaths of the clean, fresh mountain air and stare up into the night sky. The stars are so clear. I try to make out some constellations, but am woefully bad at it. I’ll have to check the library for book on them. I move to a lounge chair and lay for a while, just watching the sky and listening to nature. I nod off once or twice and decide to call it a night. I get another restful sleep. I wake to the sun streaming in again. I decide to move quicker today. I get a quick shower, don’t bother shaving, and brush my teeth. I get into my jogging gear and head down. I notice the grocery list is still on the counter. I head out to the exercise room. I stretch for a full ten minutes, as I found a stop watch in the room. I head down the same path as yesterday, but at a slightly faster pace. It feels nice. I get to the pond and head past it this time. I go to the far edge of the meadow, and re-enter the wooded area. The path leads up an incline and then opens to another meadow, this one overlooking the next valley. The path splits and I take the left branch. I have a feeling this one will lead toward the gate house and driveway. I continue on for another half mile and come thru the woods to the driveway. I’m a few yards away from the gate. I start to jog up the hill on the grass beside the drive. I get to the caretaker’s house and slow my pace. I glance in and see it is a 2-story cottage with a work garage off to the side. I see a beat up 1999 Ford F150 pickup and a later model Jeep Cherokee in the driveway. I don’t see Jake’s tractor. He must be on the property somewhere. I turn and continue up the hill. I get to the main house and slow my pace. I enter the circle in front of the house and see his tractor. The attached trailer is loaded down with tree limbs. I see the limbs were broken off, not sawed. Some are pretty thick and I think, ‘Jake must be one strong man to break limbs that size.’ I glance around, but do not see him. I walk to the side of the house and go thru a grape-vine covered arbor to the side yard. I pass thru beds of annual and perennial flowers. I stop to smell the ones in bloom. Such a soothing effect. I see a bench near a birdbath and sit for a bit. The shade of an old elm tree protects me from the sun. I feel a slight warm breeze. It feels nice. I hear Finches, Thrushes, and Bluebirds in the trees around me. I guess I’m interrupting their time at the bath. I spread my arms over the back of the bench, slouch down a bit, close my eyes for a minute, and let the calm and peacefulness of the moment sink in. His deep voice hits me from behind, “They smell nice, don’t they, Cole?” I open my and turn to face him. His green eyes penetrate me. “How was your run?” I saw you take off a while ago.” “It felt nice Jake, thanks for asking. I’m glad I pushed myself to go further this time.” I ignore the fact that he saw me leave. He’s going to be around the house and property and will see me, even if I don’t see him. I take a look at him and see he’s in another sweaty t-shirt and tan work pants. His arms are pumped again. I guess there was some heavy lifting to do, or breaking branches. He sees me looking at him and smiles. He glances at my leg and asks, “How does calf feel? Any signs you’re going to cramp up again?” “I don’t think so. I was just about the go into the exercise room and warm down.” He nods. I take a chance and ask, “The welcome note your grandmother left said you give massages?” His face brightens. “How do I get on the list for one?” I ask with a sly smile. “I mean, given your size,” I wave my arm toward his body. “I’m sure your schedule is booked solid.” He laughs and says, “I think I can squeeze you in. Are you looking for a therapeutic massage or deep tissue?” He crosses his arms over his huge chest and waits for my answer. “I think a deep tissue would do the trick.” “Figured as much.” He looks me over again and says, “What are your plans in about an hour or so?” “Besides a whole lot of ‘not much’, nothing really, just reading and looking at the scenery.” I try hard not to stare at his muscles. “I guess I can be free.” He booms, “Perfect.” He inflates his chest and stands up a bit straighter. “Be in the exercise room. I need to head back to the house, get cleaned up, and get my gear.” I turn to walk to the back of the house and as I pass him, he puts his hand on my shoulder, squeezes, and quietly says, “You’ll feel like a new man when I’m done with you.” He winks at me again and turns toward the front of the house. I think, ‘yeah, I’m sure I will.’ The thought of his hands rubbing my body gets me hard rather quickly. I head around the house and quickly go upstairs. I take a hot shower to ease my erection and to wash the sweat off me. I decide to shave. It only takes a few minutes due to my poor beard growing genes. I get dressed and head to the kitchen. I grab a fresh mango from the counter, squeeze it to make sure it’s ripe, then cut it. I get the fruit out and put it in a dish. I check the microwave and have 15 minutes. I sit at the counter and enjoy the sweetness of the fruit. I put the dish in the sink to clean later and notice the grocery list is gone. I head to the patio and wait for Jake. A few minutes later I hear him coming thru the flower garden on the side of the house. I want to immediately turn and look at him, to see what he’s wearing, to see if his muscles are on display or are covered up. Has he shaved his sexy beard off, or left it on for my pleasure? He calls out to me, “Hey Cole, right on time.” With some jocularity in his voice he says, “It’s always nice when the client is on time, or even early.” Now I turn to see him. My heart starts to race and blood is diverted to my groin. His still wet hair is pushed back over his head and covered by a dark blue baseball hat. The hat is on backwards and there a few hairs sticking out the front and falling on his forehead. He didn’t shave. I smile inwardly as I take in his face. Those green eyes and winning smile. That scruffy beard. I would love to run my fingers over it, just to feel the coarseness of it and the underlying jawline. He’s wearing a bright green tank-top which fits him like a second skin. His chest is pumped and his pert nipples are clearly visible, and more prominent than I thought. I wonder how sensitive they are and if I can make him fidget with delight as I twist or nibble them. I see a few dark hairs at the top of his pecs. His arms. My oh my. They must be 18-inches, unpumped, with veins crawling over them. His shirt is tucked into a pair of dark gray mesh gym shorts. His waist must be 31 or 32-inchs. I can see his abs thru the shirt. My mouth waters. Those mesh shorts, they seem to be a size too small for his tree trunk legs. God, what those tan workpants were hiding. His quads are rippling with muscle and his hairy calves are enormous. I see his has flip-flops on, but even his feet look manly. I see him smiling at me as I finish taking him in. “You get a nice look?” He asks. I blush. “Dude, don’t worry, I get it all the time.” ‘I bet you do’ I think to myself. He’s carrying a backpack which must hold the massage oils. I stand up as he nears me, and remember we’re about the same height. He’s just wider and sexier. He glances up and down my body, and now it’s his turn to blush, as I catch him looking. I wink at him. I say, “So, let’s do this.” We head in. He quickly clears off an exercise table and pulls a sheet out of one of the cabinets along the wall. He spreads it over the table and pats his hand on it, motioning for me to sit. I do. He gets in front of me, squats down, his legs exploding with muscle, and starts to poke and squeeze and expertly assess my body. He starts with my feet and moves upward. He asks if anything hurts and about previous injuries. I answer, staring at his hat and his muscled forearms. As he gets to my midsection and chest, my semi-erect cock is partially straining my shorts. He completely ignores it. I’m guessing he’s seen it happen before. He stands and works on my shoulders for a second. “Please take off your shirt.” I do. His eyes wander down my body, taking in what used to be a toned torso. He asks me to sit up straight and I do. He puts his fingers on my clavicle and presses in. He raises my right arm and uses his other hand to apply pressure to my side chest and upper rib cage. He releases my arm and takes a step back. He looks me in the eyes and asks, “Swimmer, runner, or gymnast?” “Swam in high school and college. Did some cross country in high school too.” He nods. “It shows. You’ve got that nice lean build. Your muscles are there, but just need to be toned up.” I nod but with embarrassment. “Cole, it happens. Life gets in the way. You skip a day at the gym, then it’s every other day. I get it.” I look him in the eyes and see not an ounce of judgement. “May I ask what brought you here? You aren’t the typically guest. And, for a month?” I sigh and give him the abbreviated version, including the part of me being gay. He just listens, nodding every so often. He gently puts his hand on my thigh and says with sincerity, “I’m sorry.” I look at him with appreciation. “I must say, you have one nice boss to give you a month off so you can get yourself back on course.” I think to myself, he’s absolutely right. “Well, now that’s it’s out in the open, you can develop a course of action.” I smile to him and proudly say, “I sketched out a plan last night after dinner. Trust me, it involves a lot of exercise and working thru some stuff up here.” I tap the side of my head. “Well, I can’t help you with that, but I’d be more than happy to help you with the exercise part.” I look at him with a bit of skepticism. I tentatively ask, “Won’t your grandmother be upset that you’re shirking your work responsibilities?” He shrugs his boulder shoulders and says back, “Well, part of my job description is to make the guests feel at home and help them with whatever they need.” His green eyes dance with anticipation. A slight smile comes over both our faces. He claps his hands together and excitedly says, “Drop your shorts and get on the table, face down.” I’m partially taken aback, but I see he is taking off his t-shirt. He turns back to me and his chest is enormous. The dark hairs I saw earlier were just a taste. His pecs have a nice dark mat of curly hair which trails down between his pecs to his abs. From there it disappears into his shorts. I turn away, face the other direction and slip my shorts down over my growing erection, leaving me in just my boxer briefs. I kick them off and slide back onto the table, making sure I don’t ‘free willy’ by accident. I lift my midsection and make sure everything is pointed in the right direction. I hear him laugh softly again. He pats me on the shoulder and says, “Cole, don’t be embarrassed about getting an erection around me. You wouldn’t be the first guy to admire and appreciate my body, and God willing, you won’t be the last.” He pats me again and bends down to open his bag. I hear him open a bottle oil and put some on his hands. He puts the bottle on the table, leaning against my leg. As he starts to work my calf muscles, I decide to take the bull by the horns. “So, what’s the social scene around here? I mean you can’t spend all your free time with your Nona in the caretaker’s house. Where do you go to cut loose?” He hums a bit and says, “I get into town every so often.” He’s being vague on purpose. I desperately want to ask him if he’s gay, or at least bi, but he has my right foot in his hands and I think he could break it if he wanted to. “There are a few bars and restaurants to hang out at.” I wonder if any of them are gay bars. There’s a lull in the conversation as he continues his work. He asks every so often if the pressure is enough, not enough, or too much. I let him know he could go a bit harder. He does and I immediately feel it. I moan as his fingers dig thru the tense fibers in my Adductor Brevis and Adductor Longus, releasing the pressure. He then moves to my Gracilis muscle and gives it a workover. He is quickly moving from one side of the table to the other, adding oil to his hands as he goes. He hits each side with equal pressure and attention. After he finishes there, he moves over my boxers and right to my lower back. I hear him open the bottle and say, “Be ready, this may not be as warm as my hands.” I feel a few drops of oil hit my spine. It’s not chilly, but it’s not nearly as warm as his hands. I tense, then quickly release. He puts his hand on the oil and starts to move it around, coating my entire lower back. He hesitantly says, “Um…Cole…It would be easier for me it you took your boxers off.” I knew that request was coming. “Just so I don’t soak them with oil.” “Ok.” I buck my hips up and carefully slide them down. Once they are around my thighs, I feel his strong fingers take ahold of them and slips them all the way off. There is a pregnant pause and I wonder if he’s staring as my ass. Next thing I know, he tosses his shorts into a pile in front of me. Then a few seconds later, a pair of dark blue posers. I guess this is his way of answering my unasked question. He immediately gets back to work. His strong fingers nimbly move around my lower back and side rib cages. He applies pressure, stretches the muscle out, then relaxes the hold. He does this over and over again, moving up my right side. When he gets to my shoulder blade, he stops, walks around the table so he passes in front of me and starts to work on my left side. He moved too quickly. I didn’t get to see anything except his muscular legs. More oil, then he starts to work on my glutes. His fingers grab ahold of the muscle, and he kneads it, like it’s bread dough. Because of the pressure he applies, as well as his strong fingers, I can feel him practically rubbing my hip bone. He keeps at it, his fingers grabbing, pulling, releasing. I notice his fingers are moving closer to my crack. I feel three fingers dip into my crack, but they just grab the muscle and he pulls it toward him. He holds it, then I feel his index finger slide up and down my crack. Now that was not my imagination. He releases as quickly as he started. He goes to the other side and does the same thing, except, no finger on my crack. He gently slaps my ass and says, “Done down below. Shoulder, arms, and neck time.” He puts just a bit of oil on my upper back and uses both hands to spread it around. He still standing off to a side. “Cole, you’ve got nice wide shoulders. It shows that you were a swimmer. They taper down to a nice waistline too.” “Thanks.” I say back. “But that waistline is hidden under a layer of beer and fried food.” He laughs and says, “We’ll work on getting it back. It shouldn’t be too hard, or take too long.” He starts to apply deep pressure to around the area and I moan again. It feels so good. When he’s done with the shoulder, his picks up my arm and starts to work the Triceps. He grips my arm with his fingers and uses the pads of his thumbs to press into the muscle. He works the whole area, then does the sides of my biceps. He works his way down to my hand and gives it a work stretch as well. He grabs each finger individually and pulls on them. I feel the muscles lengthen, then contract when he releases. I’m in heaven. He walks around the back of the table and basically reverses what he just did. He starts with my hand and works up to my Triceps and shoulder blade. As he finishes there, he walks to the head of the table, so he is right in front of me and starts to work on my neck and upper shoulders. My head is forced down over the edge of the table, so I can only see is lower legs and feet. Again, he applies deep pressure and I feel bones crack and tendons loosen. His fingers quickly find any knots or bulbs and expertly break them up. I squirm a few times, because it actually hurt. He says, “Sorry, but I need to break them up or you’ll still have pain.” “I get it and am glad you’re doing it, but I’ll be a lot happier when you’re done.” He lets loose his deep laugh. He continues his torture and I squirm some more, but slowly movements begin to feel normal, still deep and strong, but it’s like he’s hit his grove and is just working on autopilot. Then I feel it. His unit bumps the side of my head, near my right ear. He is leaning over my body to reach my middle back and I can feel his warm sweat drip off him and onto me. His hairy chest is touching my upper back as he reaches further down, to my lower back. I feel the bump again. Due to his body practically laying on top of me, I am not able to turn my head. He starts to lean back up and is drawing his fingers up my spine. He is using both hands and is pushing the muscles from both sides. I can feel my spine crack. I moan again. He says, “You think your spine is cracking now, just wait until I crack it for real. You’ll be in heaven.” I think, ‘Already there Jake.” He’s at the nape of my neck. He’s standing up and the pressure is off my head. I lift it to readjust the position and catch a glimpse of him. 6-inches flaccid, shaved groin, cut. I cautiously inhale his scent. Sweat and Old Spice. Nice mix. I feel blood rush south again. His fingers work their magic, digging into the side of my neck, getting between the fibers, and spreading everything out. He finishes my neck, then says, “Just to let you know, I’m going to massage your head. Not sure if you’ve ever had it done, but it feels great.” I feel the fingers of both his hands encompass my skull. He applies gently pressure and starts to move his fingers around. My skin feels like it is being pulled off my head, then put back on. He takes his time and makes sure he gets every part of my scalp. When he finally finishes, I’m breathing heavily. He hears me and says, “See told you.” “Not that I doubted you, but sounded more painful than it actually was.” “Ok, turn over. Time to work over your topside.” Gratefully my erection has faded. I turn over and see him scan my body from head to toe. I’m looking up at his body, from his belly button to his shelf pecs and pert nipples. I see he cobblestone abs, with ridges of muscles just waiting for a tongue to coat them with saliva. ‘Fuck, blood rushing south.’ My erection starts to rise, but I close my eyes and block the image of his body from it. I start to fade. I hear him walk to the end of the table and I feel his oily fingers grab my left ankle, lift it up, and put it on his shoulder. I keep my eyes shut to avoid looking his face and spectacular chest. He starts to work on my leg, squeezing and relaxing the muscles in my quads and groin area. When he has loosened it enough, he climbs up on the table and moves forward compressing my leg against my chest. I feel his flaccid unit bump my balls. Not a word from him. He pushes down three or four times, each time he hits me. I can feel his warm breath just inches away from my face. I smell peppermint gum each time he exhales on the downward push. He very slowly eases off. He does the same with my right ankle and leg, but when he is massaging my groin area, his fingers dance under my hairless balls. Just for a second, they gently stroke my taint. I am unable to hold back my erection any longer. It grows pretty rapidly to its full seven inches. Jake just continues to work my leg over. He does the same compression and now I feel his unit is no longer flaccid. There some heft to it. It bangs into me and I can feel his head hitting my balls. I take a chance and open my eyes. He is right above me, maybe 6 inches away from my face, his bright green eyes looking directly into my dark blue ones. He smiles to me and quietly says, “Hey”, but keeps on going. As he eases off, his fingers run down my torso and trace down groin area, rubbing my super sensitive inner leg. My unit goes full mast. I hear a low chuckle. He climbs off the table and walks up the left side. He puts his hands on my chest and starts to massage my pecs. He’s not as aggressive here. Just rubbing the muscles back and forth, loosening them up. I can feel his unit poke me in the side. He’s erect as well. I take a chance and turn my hand over and allow my fingers to caress the inside of his muscled quad. He doesn’t seem to mind and keeps on working. I feel him adjust his stance and my hand is now right under his balls. I put my hand into a cup shape and he moves his body again so they are resting in my hand. I slowly close my hand and let my fingers softly touch him. I hear him hum as his fingers pause. His fingers work their way to my abs. He uses the palms of his hands, as well as his fingers, to rub the muscles. I release his balls. He pauses and looks down at me. I look up and he just nods. I cup him again. He smiles and goes back to work. I get a bit more playful and use my fingers to softly pull down on his ball sac. He moans again, a bit louder. My unit is at full mast and sticking up at a 45-degree angle. He maneuvers his fingers under it and caresses my lower abs, bumping my unit more often than not. He’s looking down at it over his heaving chest. His breathing is deep and paced. I can see sweat trickling down the sides of his face, into his beard. His biceps are engorged with blood, pumped up, and sweaty as well. He glances to me, sees me looking at them and flexes them slightly. My unit gets that much harder. I release his balls again, but immediately rub my middle finger along his length. He flinches and pauses again. He puts his right hand flat on my lower abs and lets it rest there. I look at the ceiling, feeling we have crossed a line, and there is no going back. His left hand comes to rest on my balls. His fingers begin a slow dance, caressing the area, and stroking my taint. He flips his right hand over and I feel him softly take hold of me. I let out an audible sigh while looking at the ceiling. He does as well, in response. I move my fingers to grasp his girth. I take hold and slowly move my hand right and left. He does the same. My chest is now rising and falling in unison with his. Our hands are moving at the same pace, we have the same grip on each other. I feel the warm skin around his unit slide easily as I jerk him. His body moves closer to the table. His legs are against the side of it. His unit is poking into me. My movements become quicker. He matches me. I glance toward him and lick my lips, just at the beauty of his body and face. He turns and sees my tongue slip back in my mouth. He grins and moves his left hand further under my body. I feel him poke around my hole, but not enter it. He just caresses the hairs there. That in combination with his jerking me, and me having a hold of his unit, sends a lightning bolt down my spine. I mumble, “Cumming.” He slows his motion for a second, then gives me three quick yanks, each one more aggressive than the last. On the third one, the finger on my ass dips inside me. I cum, shooting my load like a rocket out of me. The first load coats my face and upper chest. The next two, my chest and abs. The last one coats his hand. He slows his jerking motion and comes to a stop. I realize I have a death grip on his unit. I croak, “Sorry.” as I ease my grip, but don’t release him. “Now worries.” Is all he says, smiling down at me. I continue to jerk him and see his body tense up. He grips the edge of the table with both hands and I see his biceps flex as his abs compress into his body. His chest inflates. He growls as he lets loose. His cum blasts into the side of my body. Four distinct shots hit me and stick to my sweaty body. When he’s done, I slowly release him. He takes his hands off the table and turns to put his ass on the edge. He takes a few deep breaths to cleanse himself. He pats me on the chest and asks, “Feel better?” I wink at him in response. “Good to hear.” He leans back down to his bag and pulls out a couple towels. I see his very shapely muscular ass for the first time. I whistle lowly. He flexes his glutes and stands up. He turns and winks as he hands one to and uses the other to clean himself. I get my face, chest, and abs. I move to clean my leg and he puts his hand on top of mine, stopping me. He winks and says, “I’ve got this.” He easily slides my body to the edge of the table, squats down, and proceeds to lick his cum off my body. His warm rough tongue runs along my body, scooping and pulling the warm glop into his mouth. I lean up and watch. I reach my hand down and grab his nipple and squeeze. He shuts his eyes tightly and moans. As he finishes, he stands, reaches a hand down to me and as I take it, he pulls me to a seated position. “Do you want me to crack your back now or later?” “Might as do it now, since we’re both soft.” He chuckles. “I mean, if we waited, I know I’d sprout another boner just from your touch.” I pat his plate like pecs, which he flexes for me. “Ok. Lay back down on the table.” I do. He explains what he is going to do. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to climb on the table with you, but next to you.” I grin and wiggle my eyebrows. He just shakes his head. “You will lean up and take a deep breath and hold it. I will wrap my arms around your back. When I say so, you exhale completely and lean back. I will squeeze as you go down and your back should crack.” “Gotcha.” He climbs on the table with me, but on my right side. His flaccid unit trapped between our bodies. I lean up, take the breath and hold it. He wraps his pythons around me and grips his wrists behind my back. He says, “Now.” I exhale and lean back. I feel his biceps squeeze and grow larger. I keep exhaling and falling back. Suddenly I feel my vertebra crack, just like he said. I am flat on the table looking into his eyes, which are just inches away. I move my left hand to his face and stroke his jawline. It feels as masculine and strong as I knew it would. He leans down and kisses me. Not a quick peck on the lips, but a full lip to lip, tongues moving around, feeling each out, kiss. His warm breath enters my mouth and mine goes into his. We stay lip-locked for a minute or two. My left hand moves to the back of his head, pushes off his baseball hat, and pulls him closer. He does not object. I feel his biceps constrict and pull our bodies closer. We stay at it and he carefully rolls his body on top of mine. We break the kiss and I whisper, “You know, this might be a little easier on a king-sized bed.” He smiles. “You don’t happen to know where one is, do you?” He lets out a laugh and quickly rolls off me. He extends his hand to mine. I take it as he easily pulls me up. I get off the table and quickly pull my shorts back on. He does the same. I exit the room first and head to the house. I come to an abrupt halt halfway across the patio. Jake bumps into me, his bigger body pushing me forward another step. He says, “Why’d you stop?” “I saw movement in the house, in the kitchen. I think your grandmother may be in there.” Any hope of more romance is flying out the window as we stand on the warm brick pavers. I start to panic. “What if she sees us together?” “Cole, we’re both adults.” I nod hesitantly. “What’s she going to do, ground us, send us to bed without dinner?” I turn to him and see his smile. “This isn’t the first time this has happened to you, is it?” He sheepishly shakes his head no. I decide to be the adult for the next few minutes. I tell him, “Ok, I’ll go in and see what she’s up to and how long she’ll be. You get your ass back into the exercise room until I come back.” Now he wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Calm down big guy.” I pat him on the chest and push him back toward the smaller building. Once he’s in it and shuts the door, I go thru the French doors into the living room and kitchen area. Mrs. Fisher is there, as I thought. She is putting groceries away. I am as polite as I can be. “Good afternoon Mrs. Fisher. How are you today?” She looks over to me, sees me sweating and says, “Good afternoon Mr. Cole. I’m well, thank you. How are you? You look flushed and worn out. Is everything ok.” I think, ‘Couldn’t be better. Your grandson gives fucking awesome massages.’. I instead say, “I’ve been in the workout room for quite a while. I lost track of time.” “Well don’t overdo it.” Her voice shows some concern. “Thank you. I was just about to change my clothes and go for a swim, then get in the whirlpool for a bit.” “Very well. I’m done here. I was able to find all the items on your list.” She smiles to me and adds, “I’m glad to find someone else who also likes Brussels Sprouts.” I nod with a smile. “Unfortunately, Mr. Fisher does not like them.” ‘But he likes to lick his cum off my body.’ I say to myself. “That’s too bad. If you cook them just right, they’re very flavorful.” I head to the foyer. “I must head upstairs and get changed. I feel kind of sticky in these clothes.” “Have you seen Mr. Fisher today? I see his tractor is outside, but I don’t see him?” I hold my composure and say, “I did see him earlier when I finished my run, but have not seen him since.” “Ok. Have a nice swim. Call me if you need anything.” “Thank you, I will.” I hurry up the steps and to my bedroom. I stand in the open doorway and listen for a door to open and shut, any door, which would indicate she’s left. After a minute I hear one of the French doors open and close. I say to myself, ‘Fuck’. What if she goes to the exercise room to clean up? I quickly move to a bedroom which has a view of the pool area. I get there just in time to see her open the door to the small building. My heart sinks. She’s going to find Jake in there and then it’ll all be over. I keep watching intensely. Nothing yet. Maybe she’s giving him the riot act. I murmur softly, “I’m so sorry Jake. I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” From behind me I hear him calmly say, “Please, this isn’t my first time doing this.” I nearly jump out skin and thru the window. I turn to see Jake standing there in just the dark blue posers. He smiles at me and wiggles his eyebrows. I point my finger at him and quietly say, “You!” He laughs. “Why are you whispering? It’s not like Nona can hear you.” I shrug my shoulders. I walk to him and put my hand on his chest as I lean in for another kiss. I ask, “How did you get in the house? I’m pretty sure Nona would have seen you come in the living room or foyer.” “Yes, but the French doors in the dining room are not visible from the kitchen area.” I grin like I’m 15 and trying to sneak past a hall monitor in school. “Once you and Nona got into your discussion, I slipped past and came up here. I went into your bedroom and waited. Apparently, you were too distracted and didn’t see me.” I gawk at his body and blush. “Thought so.” I turn to the window when I hear the exercise room door shut. She has the sheet in her hands and leaves by the walk on the side of the house. I say to Jake, “She took the sheet. Hope the washer is down at your house and not here.” “It is. It’s also a different sheet.” I turn to look at him. He winks. “Like I said, not my first time.” He extends his hand and I take it. We walk back to my bedroom and climb on the bed. I lay on my back and let him crawl on top of me. We proceed to make out for the next half hour. Just kissing and touching. Hands wandering over each other’s bodies. I feel up his muscles. He tenses each one as my hands pass over them. He does the same to me, letting his hands wander and caress my body. We roll over and I’m on top and he’s under me, with his hands on my hips, gently caressing them. Remarkably, we both remain flaccid. We’re just getting to know each other. I push up off him and lean up. I splay my legs on either side of his torso and look down at his muscular chest and midsection. I’m amazed and wonder how he got in the shape he’s in. It cannot be from yard work at a mountain cabin. My warm fingers wander over the sweaty muscles, just softly touching them. He sees me studying him. “You’ve got questions, don’t you?” I bite my tongue and nod, embarrassed. I want to know everything about him, but think I need to slow down. God, I’ve been here two days and have already had sex with the help. Chuck would be on the floor laughing at me. “What are you doing later tonight, say 11?” “Probably trying not to fall asleep, or better yet, trying to get some sleep.” We both laugh. “Want to meet me down by the pond? We can just sit and talk.” He reaches a hand to my arm and caresses my forearm and elbow. He is trying to help. I smile. “Ok, great.” He moves his hands to my waist and he helps me off him. I sit on the bed and he gets up. He’s facing me and stretches his body upward. God, what a specimen. His wavy dark hair is disarrayed. His sexy scruffy beard and green eyes compliment his hair. He puts his arms over his head and reaches them upward. I see he shaves his pits, but I’d still like to lick them and nuzzle my nose in them for a while. His forearms and biceps are just big enough that he cannot bring his hands together while they are overhead. His sweaty hairy pecs have visible muscle striations crisscrossing them. His torso tapers to such a small waist it seems weirdly comically. His flaccid unit and balls are pushed forward and sitting on top of his quads. I see veins crawling over his legs like a city road map. I look away to keep my brain from sending blood to my groin. I hear him grunt, then he relaxes his body and I catch his arms fall down. He sees that I’m trying not to look at him. He moves to a side, just out of my sightline, and sits on the bed to pull on his clothes. “You know Cole. It’s ok to want to look at me. I think we’re past the ‘is he gay or not’ question, and you obviously like guys with muscles.” I let out a soft grunt. “I don’t mind you looking at me.” I sigh, unsure if he’s being nice or something else. “You can ask me anything tonight.” I glance over to him and see his head is turned toward me. He’s smiling. “You were very honest with me about what happened in your life. It would only be fair of me to be just as open with you.” He finishes pulling on his shorts. He stands, grabs his tank-top and squeezes into it. He leans down to me, softly takes ahold of my chin and brings his face to mine. He softly kisses me on the lips. He whispers, “Cole, don’t let your anxieties hold you back from having some fun.” He kisses me again, leans back and says, “I need to take a few trees down along the upper tree line.” He points to me and firmly says, “11, or I will have Nona give you your next massage.” I cough out a laugh. “Needless to say, she’s all business, unlike me.” He winks and is gone. I hear the front door open and shut. His tractor comes to life and the sound of the engine fades as he drives away. I sit on the bed for a bit, reflecting back on what has happened in two short days. Could life really be this simple? Is the life I have back in the city worth the stress? So many questions about Jake run thru my mind. I want to write them down, but that would look kind of silly if I show up and pull out a list. “Yes, Jake, my first question for you tonight is in 3 parts, and each part has 2 sub-questions.” I get off the bed, pull on a pair of board shorts, drench my body in sunscreen, head down to the kitchen, make a quick salad, and head out to the pool. It’s 2:30. I eat the salad slowly, enjoying the freshness of the food, and the views over the valley spread out below. Not a cloud in the sky. Temps in the mid-80’s according the thermostat on the side of the pool house. My mind wanders back to the cluster-fuck my life had been a few short months ago. Working 10-to-12-hour days, running co-workers ragged, and pissing them off at the same time. Trying to hook-up using an on-line site, but being disappointed most of the time. Using those disappointments as an excuse to fuck other people over. I can see the spiral now. God, what an asshole I was. I feel a tear run down my cheek. I continue to look at the valley. The green trees and grass swaying in a gentle breeze. I spy some deer at the far end, just doing their thing. Not a care in the world. I go back in and grab the yoga book. I get a mat and sit on the patio. I check the index and find the chapter on meditation. I read thru it and get the main points. I put the book aside and get into a cross-legged position, with my back straight. I put my hands on my knees, close my eyes, and lightly touch my thumb and index finger. I breathe in thru my nose to a count of 4, hold it for a count of 4, then exhale thru my mouth to a count of 6. I repeat this several times, then lengthen the counts to 6,6,8, then 8,8,8. My minds wanders. I picture a shallow slow-moving stream with some rocks in it. As a thought enters my mind, I let is pass down the stream and out of my mind. I think of the stress of work, and let it float away. The bad experiences dating, float on by. My poor personal choices; they are larger and take more time to pass, but they do. I keep the breathing pattern intact and gently bounce my fingers to help ease any stress the creeps in. After a while, the stream looks like one in the valley below me. My head is clear and my breathing is calm and paced. I feel my chest rising and lowering at the same pace as my heart. I slowly open my eyes, but continue the pattern. I twist my head left and right and feel little to no pain. I uncross my legs, bring my knees to my chest and wrap my hands around them, hugging them. I feel another tear run down my cheek, but this one is of happiness, serenity. I sit for another 5 minutes, then slowly get up and walk to the pool. I wade into the warm water and let it encompass me. I lower my body until just my neck and head are above the water line. I put my back against the wall and squat down. I slowly wave my hands and create a rippling effect in the water. I let the waves move around me and soothe my body. I sit there, with the sun beating down on me. I close my eyes again. My arms slow, the waves dissipate. I nod off and when my lips hit the water, my eyes open. I climb out the pool and go to a lounge chair. I move it into the shade of an umbrella, lie down, and am asleep in seconds. I wake to find it is dusk. The last sliver of the sun is setting over mountains at the far end of the valley. The yellow, red, and orange tendrils of light are bathing the valley and trees. I watch as it fades. Night encroaches from behind me. I sit and watch the stars make their appearance, getting brighter with each passing minute. Crickets soon start their songs. I see fireflies (lightening bugs) start to emerge from the grass. Frogs join the chorus. Then the owls. My eyes become accustomed to the darkness. I can smell the flowers from the garden, and almost taste the honeysuckle along the backside of the garden. I hear other noises in the dark, nocturnal animals waking to live their lives. I get up and slowly move into the house. I click on a minimal number of lights. I check the time and see there is still plenty until I meet with Jake. I head upstairs, get a quick shower, brush my teeth, and change into tan cargo shorts and a light t-shirt. I put on some socks and pair of walking sneakers. I head to the kitchen and cook up another piece of salmon and some veggies. I eat on the patio. I sit and let the stillness and calmness of the evening envelop me. After a while I go back in, check the clock, and see it’s about time for me to head to the pond. I don’t need a flashlight as the moon and stars provide enough light for me to navigate the path easily. As I approach the pond, I see Jake’s darkened figure sitting on one of the benches, waiting for me. I near and put my left hand on his right shoulder. He turns, smiles, and pats the spot next to him. I sit. He puts his right arm around my shoulder and hugs our bodies together. I lean my head to his and put my left hand on his right thigh. We sit. No words pass between us for a while. All I feel are the muscles in his arm slowly moving as he caresses my right bicep. Our breathing is in sync. He quietly asks, “Better?” I murmur back, “Yes.” “Good.” I feel him turn his head and kiss the top of mine. He gently squeezes my body to his again and releases. More time passes. I softly ask, “How did you know?” His answer is a squeeze on my shoulder. All my other questions float away, like the leaves on the stream from my meditation. We sit and watch the night progress. The moon makes its slow arcing trek across the sky. Frogs and crickets and other unseen animals sing their songs and scurry thru the meadow, avoiding us. I drift again. I wake to find Jake is carrying me back up the hill to the house. My head is against his shoulder. His breathing is still slow and steady. I can feel his biceps supporting me, but they don’t seem to be flexed or impacted by my added weight. I touch him on the chest and he looks down. He grins. I say, “I can walk.” He winks at me and keeps walking. We get to the house, I open the door, and he carries me up the steps to my room. He sets me down on the edge of the bed, strips off his clothes, and pulls me up and helps me out of mine. He softly grabs my face in both hands, pulls me toward him, and kisses me. Long, slow, and passionate. I feel my unit spring to life. His rises as well. He turns us around, so his back is to the bed. He releases me and falls to the bed and moves to the middle. He extends and arm to me. I take it, and he pulls me down, on top of him. Our warm bodies sink into the comforter. Now it’s my turn to put my hands on his face and pull him in for an extended kiss. I reach my left hand to his right nipple and grab it thru the silky dark hair covering it. I tweak it tentatively. He sighs into my mouth. He splays his legs around my body and locks his ankles together, drawing our bodies that much closer together. Our units bump and grind each other. We’re both at full mast and I feel moisture leaking from him, or me, or both of us. He wraps his arms around my back, hugs my body to his, and just holds me. We continue to kiss. Neither of us battling for alpha dog position. Just letting the moment take us where it wants us to go. He shows off more of his strength by rolling us over. He’s on top. He untangles his arms from my back and undoes his legs. He leans up, puts his meaty hands on my chest, and plays with my nipples. Now, it’s my turn to relish the feeling. I close my eyes and let him play. He’s gentle, but masterful. He’s hitting all the right button. I feel my unit spasm under the weight of his body. He feels it too and moves his hips from left to right to spread out the fluid. He stops massaging my chest, leans down, and whispers, “Ready?” I slowly open my eyes and see him smiling at me with a twinkle in his eyes. I nod yes. He gets off the bed, picks up his shorts, and I see a yellow tinfoil wrapper shimmer in the faint light. I hear him rip it open and then he surprises me by coming back to the bed, leans down, and put it on me. My unit had faded a bit, but his strong fingers remedy that. He encases me, lets some drool fall from his mouth onto the tip of it, then he coats me. I put my hands behind my head and let him do his thing. He straddles my body, grabs my unit, and positions me at his hole. He winks and slowly lowers himself onto me. I feel my unit break his sphincter and enter his muscled body. He slides down in one movement, not a moment’s hesitation. I moan as his muscles constrict around my pole. He massages me as I move in him. He settles his ass onto my groin. His full weight is on me, but it feels like nothing. I tentatively thrust upward. In the darkness of the room, I can see he smiles and wink again, letting me know it’s ok to do what I want to do. I push up some more. He takes it, his body accepting my presence. My body feels free. I move to put my hands on his thighs and rub the muscles there. It feels like rubbing warm granite. I thrust upward some more, with urgency. He bounces on me. When we come down, he grinds his ass into me, coaxing a bit more of me into him. I feel him release another round of pre-cum. It lands on my lower chest. His hand moves to spread it around. I see him move his index finger toward my mouth. I open and he slowly inserts it. I lick at it, pull the sweet fluid off, and swallow. My body warms as his pre-cum slides down my throat. I feel a tingle. I continue to thrust upward for several minutes, but Jake shows no signs of pain or of growing tired. I, on the other hand, am getting tired from all the work. Not that I haven’t had someone sit on my unit and ride it, but Jake is different. He’s got the stamina to allow him to just ride for a long time. As I tire, my motions slow and finally I lay on the bed. Once he realizes I’ve stopped, he leans down, rubs his beard along my cheek, and asks, “You ok Cole?” I hear the concern in his voice. I respond, “Yeah, just tired from today. I’m sorry.” He softly runs his strong fingers thru my hair and whispers, “Shh. It’s fine.” He kisses my cheek. He pulls off me, turns and pulls the condom off, and proceeds to put his lips on my rock-hard unit. He licks it and uses his right hand to keep it pointed up. Then I feel him swallow me. Again, no hesitation. He swallows me to the hilt. My groin in his face. I feel his tongue massage and caress my pole. He applies more saliva and starts to bob up and down. I look at the ceiling and grab the sheets. He’s an expert. His strong fingers move from holding me erect to gently massaging my balls. I feel his pinkie poke at my hole. My load builds quickly due to the fore-play and I know I won’t last too much longer. When I’m close, I pat his muscular shoulder to let him know. He continues to face-fuck me and then I feel his pinkie dip into my hole and piston in and out. I unleash my load. He swallows every drop. I hear him gulp, then slurp. After a minute he carefully pulls off and my softened unit drops to my abs. I’m breathing heavily, but feel very relaxed. He leans up on the bed, grabs his unit and starts to stroke himself. While he does it, he moves to straddle my chest, putting his unit right at my face. I lean up and lick his bulbous head, being rewarded with a glop of pre-cum. I move my elbows to support my position and take just his head into my mouth. He continues to jerk. I see his body tense and hear him groan, “Cumming” in his deep sexy voice. I immediately swallow him as far as I can. He grunts as all the muscles in his body flex, and he unleashes his torrent. I swallow every drop, just like he did. I stay on him, maneuvering my tongue around, until he softens. I slide off him and his unit swings down to my chest. He sighs, looks into my eyes and says, “Dude, you’ve got talent.” He winks at me in the dark, and I wink back with a grin. He carefully gets off me and walks to the bathroom. I hear him flush the condom down the toilet. I hear water running and a minute later he is back. He puts a hand on my abs and quietly says, “The towel is warm.” He puts the washcloth on my abs, then gently rubs down toward my crotch. He cleans the area, then takes it back to the bathroom. He’s back in a minute and slips onto the bed with me. He lies next to me, but props himself up on his left elbow so he is looking at me. I turn my head and can make his face out in the dim light. He’s still got a smile and his eyes are bright. I reach my left hand over to his face and stroke his beard. The hair is soft and luxurious. He leans down to kiss me again. He puts his right arm over my body and grabs my left shoulder. He rolls onto his back and pulls my body closer to his. He lets his left arm drop onto the bed and my head falls onto the bicep. His unflexed muscle feels like a soft pillow. I drape my left arm over his broad chest and close my eyes. My face is next to his armpit. I lightly inhale and smell his relaxing aroma. I feel his hand on my back, lightly tracing and caressing circles. I fade out. I slowly wake the next morning and sense Jake is gone. I am under the covers, but still naked. I look around the room and he straightened up before leaving. My clothes from last night are neatly folded on the dresser and when I walk into the bathroom, the towel from last night is hanging over the shower, drying. I do my morning routine and when I’m done, I get ready to go for a run. I head down to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal and see the note he’s left for me. Cole, I hope you enjoyed last night, I did. Being with you makes me very happy. For someone who had a lot of stress in his life four days ago, you have done a tremendous job in letting it go. I hope you will be able to get back to the ‘real you’ very quickly. I cannot wait to see who that person is. I glanced over your workout plan and made a few notations which I think would benefit you. Unfortunately, we will not be able to see each other for a few days. Nona has asked me to go into town and help a family friend pack and move. I should be back by Friday. The extra money I make with these side jobs help me financially, so I take them when I can, I hope you understand. Nona will be able to give you a massage, if you need another. If you can wait, I’d be more than happy to give you another when I return. Jake. I smile. He has a great sense of humor and am glad he is able to make money doing side jobs. I’m a bit upset I will not see him for a while, but meeting him was a bonus. I can use this time to work on getting my head straightened out. I grab my workout plan and see his notes. They make sense so I add them where he indicates. *** The week flies by. I make notes on my plan everyday as to what I did, so I can show Jake when he gets back and we can make adjustments. It’s now Thursday night. I am finishing up my second workout for the day, legs. Ugh. Now I know why I tended to skip them at the gym. My body doesn’t like me right now, but in a day or so, it will be very grateful. I walk into the kitchen and pull a steak out of the fridge to come to room temperature. I grab my plan and a pencil and I review what I did: Monday: 45 min jog, breakfast, back and shoulders, 2 hours yoga and meditation, lunch, pool/sauna, second workout – row for an hour, pool & reading – The Dubliners by Joyce. Dinner, 30 min yoga Tuesday: elliptical for 30 mins, breakfast, chest/arms, whirlpool, lunch, 2 hrs. yoga & meditation, 45 min jog, pool, more Joyce, dinner, 1 hr. walk, pool Wednesday: breakfast, yoga, sauna, Joyce, lunch, jog for 45 mins, pool, nap, back and full body stretch. Sauna again. Dinner, pool, finish Joyce. Thursday: 2 hr walk, breakfast, pool, start Tolkein, lunch, chest/arms, meditate for an hour, list out things to improve my work life, whirlpool, legs, dinner, pool. I smile to myself. I made a plan and kept to it, for the most part. I did tweak an item here or there based on how my body was feeling, or how my brain was feeling. Tonight, I am going to reward myself. On Monday I had found a carton of chocolate peanut butter ice cream in the freezer, but made sure to bury it behind some other stuff so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat it. I get the gas grill fired up and go upstairs to get cleaned up. I just wash my face and brush my teeth. When I get back to the kitchen, I check the steak and take it to the grill. I turn the heat down and put it on. I close the lid and head back inside to get the vegetables ready. I skewer some mushrooms, broccoli, and pineapple chunks and take them out to the grill. I check the steak and put the kabobs off to a side where the heat is lower. Back in the kitchen, I make a salad and get the Brussel sprouts peeled and trimmed then into a pan to sauté with some sea salt, cracked white pepper, and garlic. While they start to cook on medium heat, I go flip the steak and turn the kabobs. The meat only needs another few minutes to finish. I pull the veggies off and take them inside and set them on a platter. I take my salad out to the patio and set my place. I pull the steak off, turn the grill off, and put the steak on the table to rest. I finish the sprouts, lightly glazing them with some chicken stock. I put them in one bowl and the pull the veggies and pineapple off the skewers and put them into a second bowl. I bring them outside and sit to eat. Dusk has settled. I eat and watch the sunset. It never gets old watching the light fade and the stars come out. I notice something new every night, be it a constellation I did not know, or the sound of dove cooing in the dark as it settles down to sleep. Half an hour later, I’ve moved to a lounge chair, gotten a small bowl of ice cream, and am settling in to read another few chapters of The Silmarillion. I hear the phone ring. I am startled as I thought I could only call the caretakers on it. Apparently, they can call me. I get up to answer it. “Hello?” It’s Mrs. Fisher, “Good evening Mr. Cole. I am sorry to bother you in the evening.” “It’s ok, I was just outside reading. Is everything ok?” “Yes, it is. I wanted to let you know I will be away for the weekend. I am leaving tomorrow mid-morning and will return Sunday evening. Mr. Fisher is expected back tomorrow at some point. If you need anything, he will be happy to help you.” I think to myself, ‘You got that right.’ “Thank you very much for letting me know. Have a nice weekend.” “You as well.” The line disconnects. I look at the receiver for a moment, shake my head, then put it back. I go back out the patio and finish my ice cream. I get the feeling Mrs. Fisher knows more about her grandson’s activities than he knows. I watch the moon rise and makes its trek over the sky again. As I look to the sky, I’m still in awe of how many more stars I can see. In the city, due to the light pollution, only the brightest stars are visible. Out here, with less pollution, many of the lesser stars are visible. What a difference a couple hours ride makes. I head to the kitchen with my bowl and book. I check the time and see it’s pretty late, so I head up to bed. I leave a window cracked open, as usual, to let the fresh air into the room. I know this is one reason I’m getting restful nights of sleep. I change into my PJs, do my bathroom routine, then crawl under the covers. I stare at the ceiling and think maybe the city life is not for me. It’s only been a week, but whatever magical spell the country, and this house have over me, I don’t think I want it to end. Slowly I fade out. When I wake, something feels different. I slowly open my eyes and hear it is raining. Not a hard, pounding thunderstorm, but a nice soaking rain. I walk to the patio doors, open them, pull up a chair, and sit in the doorway. The rain pitter-patters on the patio and in the trees beyond. It’s very peaceful. I continue to sit and listen. I close my eyes and meditate. After a time, I open my eyes, see the rain has slowed, and decide to go for a walk. The clouds are breaking up and I should be ok as long as I stay on the path. The air feels a bit chillier than normal, so I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. I head to the kitchen, grab an everything bagel and head out. I head out the back path which leads into a heavily wooded area and up a slope. It feels great to be in the fresh air. There are droplets of rain still falling from tree branches and leaves. The oaks, pines, and cherry trees are tall and full of foliage. The path winds around while steady going up. One or two areas are slick with leaves and mud, but I take it slow and make out well. At one point there is a break in the trees and I can see the whole valley and the house down below. The clouds have broken and sun is starting to stream through. I crouch down and stare. My breathing slows and becomes even. After a bit, I get up, stretch and continue along the path. It eventually makes its way back down the slope. A half hour later and I’m now below the house, looking up from a meadow, but not the one with the pond. I cannot see the house from this spot. I see the clouds have gathered again and look like they’re going to open up at any moment. I follow the path and it leads to the far side of the meadow and back into the woods. I don’t run or jog, but am not looking around as much. I am 10 yards short of the woods when the skies open up again and it starts to downpour. I am soaked by the time I get into the trees and relative safety. I squat down again and listen to the rain fall. About 30 minutes, later the rain is still falling at a steady pace. I decide to head back the house, hoping the path I’m on leads to it. I figure it must wind its way there at some point as it seems all the paths I’ve followed, start and end at the cabin. As I start, I notice little stream-lets along the sides of the path. Water is running down to an unseen stream. I’m ten minutes into the walk back, all of it up hill, when I hear a strange loud crashing sound. I cannot quite make out what it is, but whatever it is, it is quickly getting close to me. I look around for a safe spot, but do not see anything. I leave the path and look for a tree with a sturdy low branch. I see a clump of maples and oaks nearby and head to them. Through the rain I grab the lowest branch I can find and climb up. I move up another two or three when the noise becomes deafening. Then I see it. It’s a mudslide coming down the hill and it’s carrying quite a bit of debris with it. I try to climb up a few more branches to be safe, but there are none. I pray the ten feet I’m up is sufficient. The mudslide hits the trees I’m in. The trees sway due to the pressure to the trunks from the water and debris being moved along. One or two smaller maples give way and slide downhill. I see a couple good sized rocks or boulders (is there really a difference?) and they bang into the trees as well. I few hit my tree and jar it, but the tree holds firm. I slip a bit on the wet tree limb, but continue to grasp the trunk. Then I see it as well as hear it. A large conglomeration of tree limbs, rocks, water, and weeds are heading down the path. It extends 20 feet off each side, meaning my tree is in the path. I decide to sit on the branch to minimize my chance of falling out. I grab the trunk with both hands and hold on tight. When it hits, the tree shudders and I feel the vibration throughout my whole body. It’s as if someone is continuously shaking my body with their hands. I feel water and branches brush my feet, ankles, and lower legs. The noise is deafening. I could yell for help, but: there is nobody around and: they’d never hear me. It goes on for a few minutes. I get a whiff of a foul odor and realize there is something dead in the debris. The water has a brackish look to it and it’s not as I expected, not that I have much to compare it to, except the odd Youtube video. Then it happens. The tree leans over due to the pressure from the debris below. The roots start to pull up from the rain loosened ground. The tree creaks and whines. I hold on as tightly as I can. I hear the trunk start to splinter. It’s a loud cracking sound, then the tree falls backward into the mudslide, and I with it. It makes a ‘whooshing’ sound as the treetop comes down thru the surrounding trees. We fall 80% of the way and come to a jarring stop. I quickly realize I’d been holding my breath and had squeezed my eyes shut. The jarring rattles my teeth and by body slams into the trunk with enough force to push the air out of my lungs. My grip loosens. I look around for a nearby branch to grab, but am too slow to grab it. I slide off the branch and fall into the mudslide. I feel rocks and sticks hit and poke at me. The water is cold, colder that it would seem and it is very viscous. My wet long sleeve t-shirt and sweatpants become water temperature very quickly. My mind starts to wander. Can I get hyperthermia or can I drown? Who will find me? What will Chuck say about me dying in a mudslide? I feel a stick jab me in the stomach. I’m immediately brought out of my thoughts. I look around for something to grab onto as I travel down the hill. I try to maneuver my body so I can see where I am being taken. Then I see it. There is a large rock in our path and I am heading straight for it. I try to get my legs in front of me, with the hopes that I can brace my body for the impact. It works to a degree. My body still slams into the rock and my teeth clatter together, but I am able to get a grip on the rock as I slide over top of it. I cling to the rock as my hands slip. I get another grip and can feel my fingers scraping along the rock to keep ahold of it. I feel a ledge in the rock and dig my fingers into it and grab. I stop sliding, but mud and debris still moves around me, hitting me in the face and body. I close my eyes and hold on as best I can. Slowly the onslaught abates. I realize I am shivering and taking shallow quick breaths. I glance around and see I’m about five feet off the ground. There is still some water moving below me, but I decide to take a chance. I slowly release my grip and slide to the ground. My legs are cold and wobbly. I stumble back into the boulder I was just laying on. I put my back to it and squat down. I let my body relax and try to get my breathing back to normal. It takes several minutes, but I eventually calm down. I brace against the boulder and slowly stand. I hear a new noise on the path, but it’s not the same as the mudslide. It’s muffled and distant, but gets louder over a few minutes. It’s Jake’s tractor. I move to the side of the boulder facing the path and wait. I see him coming down cautiously, looking from side to side. He wearing just a t-shirt, shorts, and his work boots. There is concern on his face. When he looks in my direction, I put my arms up and wave as best I can. They feel like hundred-pound weights and I only get a few waves in before my arms tire and fall. But it’s enough. He sees me and turns the tractor in my direction. He sees my condition and comes off the path and right down to me. He stops within 5 feet, jumps off, and comes to me. He easily scoops me up, and without a word, carries me to the tractor and gently eases me onto the bench seat. As he restarts the tractor, he wraps his right arm around me and hugs me to his body, not worrying that my cold wet clothes are soaking him. He quickly maneuvers us back onto the now rutted path and heads back to the house. It takes longer due to the damage, but we make it back in one piece. I notice tree limbs are down in quite a few spots and one or two smaller trees are down too. He drives right to the front door of the house. As he pulls to a stop, he is quickly out and to my side. I slide to him and he scoops me up again and we head into the house and up the steps to my room. Still not a word from him, but still the concerned look on his face. I croak out, “I’m ok.” He glances down, smiles a bit and says with all seriousness, “Need to get you into a warm bath quickly.” He doesn’t say another word. He carries me into my bedroom, gently puts me down on the edge of the bed, and looks into my eyes, one at a time. He’s checking for a concussion. He puts his warm hands on the sides of my face gauging my temperature, then points a finger at me to stay here. He turns and goes into the bathroom and I hear him turn on the soaking tub. A minute later he reappears, comes to the bed, kneels down, and starts to take my sneakers off. I try to help, but stop as he is doing a more efficient job. Once my shoes and socks are off, he stands, but then leans back down, hooks his right arm under my left armpit and lifts me up. He half orders me, “Put your hands on my head when I squat down.” I nod and do what he says as he gets down. He unties my sweatpants, pulls them down, along with my shorts and underwear. He then lifts my legs, one at a time and pulls everything off. He eases me back to sitting on the bed. He grabs the long sleeve t and pulls it off, then takes off my t-shirt. He scans my body and his look of concern does not ease. I glance at myself and see mud everywhere. There are cuts and scrap marks on my torso and legs. My fingers are cold, white, shriveled, and raw. I can feel clumps of dirt in my hair and on other parts of my body. I realize I’m still shivering. He stands me up and half carries me into the bathroom. I see steam coming from the soaking tub as it is still filling. He steers me to the shower. I sit on the edge of the tub while he turns the shower on and get it to a warm temp. He turns the water off from filling the tub. Then he strips. He’s done in seconds and is lifting me up again. He opens the shower door and helps me in, as he comes in with me. He pulls his warm body to my cold one and holds me for a minute, letting his warmth penetrate me. The mud and dirt wash off my body. Some splashes onto Jake, but he continues to hold me. After most of the mud has washed off, he grabs a bar of soap and quickly washes my entire body. Not a crevice is missed. He helps me rinse off then opens the door and walks us to the tub. I start to feel warmer, but Jake still looks worried. He helps me in, making sure I don’t slip. The water is hot and I very slowly lower my foot into it. He has a vice grip hold on my elbow and arm. Eventually I’m in and I slowly sit. As the hot water hits my ass, I stop and clench my glutes. He still has a hold of my arm. I ease in and start to relax. He looks me over and climbs in slowly. I move over as much as I can to give him room. The water sloshes around due to him getting in, but I am used to it now. He sits right next to me and slides his right arm behind my back and grabs my right side. He pulls me to him. His body is still warm, almost warmer than the tub water. I whisper again, “I’m fine.” He replies with concern still in his voice, “You had the beginning stages of hyperthermia. I had to get you warm as quickly as I could.” He turns his head to mine and I feel his warm breath on my ear. He tenderly kisses it. We stay in the tub until the water cools. Every so often he reaches over with his left hand and feels different parts of my body. First my legs, then my arms and hands, then my chest. I feel like a chicken his is poking to see if it’s cooked or not. He quietly asks, “How do you feel now?” I close my eyes and do a quick check of my body, squeezing my fingers and toes, bending joints that bend, and when I’m done, I say, “Besides a few tender spots or cuts, I feel better.” He nods and slowly gets up. He steps out of the tub and grabs some towels. I start to stand and he is back at the edge of the tub, extending his arm to me. I take it and step out. He has a towel waiting for me in his other hand. He wraps it around me and gently blots the water off me. When he’s done, he quickly dries himself with a second towel. He then gets a third one and wraps both of us in it. He pulls our bodies together so his body heat is shared with me. I hold onto him as tightly as he is holding me. We stand for a good five minutes, then my legs start to tire. I pat him on the chest and he releases the towel. We walk to the bed and he pulls the covers back and helps me in. He slides in next to me and pulls me close again to share body heat. His breathing is calm and paced and my heart rate slows to match. I eventually drift off. I’m back in the tree. This time I’m yelling for Jake to help me. I scream his name, but he’s nowhere to be seen. The tree starts to fall again, but this time it falls completely into the mud. I’m covered in it, trapped under a branch, and starting to drown. I flail my arms in an attempt to get the limb off me, but cannot. It is too heavy. I call out Jake’s name again and muddy water flows into my mouth, cutting off my voice. I gurgle and more water comes in. I start to lose consciousness. I wake with a start, sitting bolt upright, and am hyperventilating. Jake’s arm comes around my back and caresses my left arm. “Must have been a really bad dream.” I look into his eyes and see pain. “You mumbled my name several times, then called out, and then stopped.” My breathing slowly calms. “I was back in the tree, but it was different this time. I was drowning.” He leans over and kisses me on the side of my head. I lay back down. I’m fully awake now and do a quick scan of my body. I have a headache and feel some aches and pains where sticks or rocks hit me. I’ll be bruised up in a day or so. Jake must sense my pain as he climbs out of bed, goes into the bathroom, opens a cabinet, and returns with a bottle of Advil. He opens it and hands me three. I sit up and move so I am against the headboard. Jake sits next to me. I down them dry. I ask, “How dd you know where I was? This property is huge.” I wave my arms wide. “I could have been on any of the paths.” I turn to look at him. He smiles, leans over, softly kisses me on the lips, and says, “When I got back, I came up to the house to surprise you, thinking you’d stayed inside due to the rain, but didn’t see you. It had let up at that point, so I checked the house and pool house, but didn’t see you. I checked all the paths leading away from the house and found your footprints leading up the slope. I figured you’d be gone for a while so I went back to my place. I checked the weather,” I give him an odd look and he says, “Yes, we have a TV and internet in our place, come-on.” He winks at me and continues, “and saw another large storm approaching. I drove back up to the house to see if you’d come back. Then it hit. I couldn’t drive the tractor out for fear of getting into an accident, so I waited it out.” He takes a breath, caresses the side of my face with his hand tenderly and continues. “When the storm finally let up, knowing the path you had taken out, and where it goes, I decided to go the other way in hopes of meeting up with you. Then I heard the mudslide.” His face grows dark. “I had to wait it out, I’m sorry.” Now it’s my turn to caresses his bearded face. “I knew you were down there somewhere, but had to wait for it to pass.” I nod. “I’m glad I did. It’s pretty bad out there Cole. We’ve had mudslides before, given the layout of the property, but this one was pretty bad.” I pat his hairy chest and say, “It’s over and I’m going to be fine. Just some bruising, but otherwise I feel better.” I watch his eyes scan my body again. I see a slight smile come over his face. “Now if there were a way for me to reward my rescuer?” I arch an eyebrow and look down his body toward his flaccid unit. It stirs and we both smile. He jokingly says, “Only if you’re up for it.” I check my hardening unit and smile. He does as well. He scoots back down the bed so he is flat on his back. He puts his arms behind his head, opening his body to me. He flexes them and softballs appear. I lick my lips. I climb on top of his midsection, reach my hands to them and grope them. He flexes and they become nice and hard. My mouth starts to water. I lean down and we kiss. I nuzzle his beard inhaling the scent of the soap we used. I nibble at his left ear lobe then move to his flexed arm. I kiss it softly, then more fervently. He moans. I start to lick it, slobbering my saliva all over it. My rock-hard dick is pressed into one of his granite hard pecs. I go back to kissing, then move south to his hairless armpit. I kiss and lick it. I feel him put his right hand on the back of my head and gently hold my face in place. I use my tongue to ravage the area. He moans again and releases his grip. I nibble and kiss my way to his left nipple. I soak the hair around it with warm spit, then slather my face in the wet hair, coating my face. Now it’s my turn to moan. I feel my unit rubbing against his muscled body. He puts his right hand on my back and traces his fingers up and down my spine. I shudder at the sensation. He hardens his pecs and I playfully tweak his right nipple with my left hand, while I continue to bite at his left one. He squirms and I increase my ministrations. I kiss my way down this cobblestone abs to his bellybutton, with my hands feeling his muscled ribcage along the way. His navel is surrounded by a mat of curly dark hair. I purse my lips and coat the area with fluid. I push some into the hole, then use my tongue to spread it around. He is groaning with content. I move a bit farther south and my chin bumps into his erect dick. I pull off his body a bit and grab him, near his base. He’s thick and veiny. I softly pull him to a 90-degree angle and enjoy the view I have. I re-wet my lips and lower my head to his. I open wide and take his head into my mouth. I slosh my tongue all around it, coating it with copious amounts of saliva. I run my tongue along the underside and my tastebuds scrap the nerves. He squirms again. I move to his slit and wiggle my tongue in it. I feel a warm glob of pre-cum bubble out. I suck it down quickly. It slides down my throat as my body instantly tingles and warms. I change the position of my body so I am now between his muscular legs, and start to bob my head up and down. With each down motion, I push further down his unit. He spreads his legs, giving me easier access. He’s about 8 and half inches and has a nice girth. I eventually get my nose to his shaved groin and hold it there. I tickle his hairless balls with my right hand and stroke his taint. His unit is pushing against the back of my throat. I seal my lips around him and suck as hard as I can. I run my tongue along the length and hear him groan again. I feel his hands on the sides of my head. They hold me in place for a few seconds, then lift me up a bit. He starts to move my head up and down at a nice slow pace. I continue to slather fluid on his unit and keep the vacuum seal I have on him. He bucks his hips a bit and I feel him push past my uvula. He quickens the pace and I go with it. His strong fingers keep a firm, but not painful grip on me. He’s now bucking his hips up every time he pushes me down. I put my hands on the bed to steady my body. I start to move faster on my own and he releases me. He moans and puts his left hand on the right side of my face and caresses it. Saliva is leaking out of my mouth, down his length, and onto his groin. I pull off for a second and catch my breath. He smiles at me and says, “You’re good.” I wink and go back down on him, all the way to the hilt. I push my nose into his groin and gently shake my head from left to right. He groans loudly and puts his hand on my head and pins me down. I relax my throat as he slips down a bit. As I breath thru my nose and with every inhale, I smell his now sweaty musk emanating from him. I move my hands from the bed to his ass. I reach under them and grab a hold of his glutes. He bucks his hips up to give me easier access. I cup each glute in a hand and squeeze as hard as I can. Mr. Muscles flexes his glutes and they become rocks. I pull up on them and my face is buried in his groin. I hear him croak out, “Oh…oh…oh…fuck…” and feel his load travel from his balls, up his shaft, and into my throat. I relax as much as I can and let the cum make its way down. I continue to suck him, but also use my tongue to clean up any leftover cum still in my mouth. I slowly pull off, careful to not let me teeth touch him. When I’m finally off, I sit back on my hunches, look up to him, and see a gratifying smile along with a very sweaty body. Perspiration is running down his cheeks and arms. His chest is still heaving and there are sweat droplets there too, damping his chest hair. I crawl up his body, my raging erection dragging along his rock-hard abs, and lie on his chest. I feel him constrict his abs, trapping my unit in the deep crevice between the left and right sets of muscle. I kiss him while I move my body back and forth. Pre-cum leaks from me like water from a 50-year-old faucet. His strong abs flex and he milks my unit. We continue to kiss, but now it’s my turn to moan. I feel him put his hands on my back and wrap his arms together. He pulls me closer to him and pins my unit down. His tongue invades my mouth as he squeezes me harder. I feel him flex his whole body and my brain spasms. My balls tighten and my load quickly travels my length and shots out, onto him. I moan into his mouth and he just kisses me, pulling my breath in. After I finish one of my longest releases, he slowly unflexes his body and takes his hands off my back. I put my hands on his chest, push myself up, and stare down at him. His green eyes twinkling at me with a bit of mischief in them. He winks at me and rubs his right hand on my abs and chest. He says, “You look good. The workouts are definitely paying off.” I tighten my re-emerging abs and he rubs them again and gives me a low whistle. “Thanks.” I reply. I roll off him and cuddle up close to his warm sweaty body. Our musky odors join together and delight my senses. I feel him put his arm around my back and pull me a bit closer. I drape my left hand over his chest and let my breathing slow. I feel his chest slow as well. We both fade out. I wake to find he is still next to me, but sleeping soundly. His chest is rising and falling steadily. I watch him for a while and admire his body. I slip out of bed, careful to not wake him. I grab a pair of PJ bottoms, put them on and tip-toe to the bathroom, shut the door, and take care of business. I quietly walk out of the bedroom and head downstairs. I go into the living room and see sunlight streaming into the room. The air is nice and warm. I go to the French doors and open them, letting in a warm breeze. I move to the kitchen area and start to make breakfast for two. I realize I don’t know what Jake likes to eat or doesn’t like, except that he doesn’t like Brussel sprouts. Eh, oh well. I pull out the carton of eggs, some bacon, and potatoes. I get everything going when I hear him come down the stairs. He’s still naked, but looks Godly. His brown hair is a product of bed head and he’s scratching his balls. He walks to me and pulls me into an embrace. “Morning sexy.” He coos to me. I kiss him and use all my strength to keep my dick from pointing north. He has no inhibitions and his unit perks up. I break the embrace, point the spatula at him and jokingly say, “Breakfast first, then I have stuff to do.” He feigns sadness. I point at his now erect unit and say, “As much as I want to do embarrassing things to you, it will need to wait.” He smiles again, pulls me back into an embrace and says, “I hear you. I have things to do as well. Let’s check your plan for the day and see where we can schedule in some ‘Jake’ time. You know, maybe 5 or 6 hours of it.” We both laugh. He goes back upstairs, gets into his clothes and is back down. He helps me finish making breakfast and we eat it on the patio. I figure now is as good a time as ever to ask him some questions. I start tentatively, “So…” I glance at his body. “I did some competitive bodybuilding when I was younger.” I nod. “I had the genes for it and the knack. I won a few, then lost one or two to guys who were on stuff.” He looks out over the valley and continues, “I just didn’t want to deal with side-effects or drama that comes with being on a cycle, so I never got into it. Because of that, other guys just got bigger than me. I knew I could compete, but realized they were outpacing me, if that makes sense?” “It does. Do you regret stopping? I mean, you still look like you could win any competition if you walked onto a stage right now?” I wave my hand over his body with admiration. “Nope.” He says firmly. He puffs his chest out. “I’ve seen what steroids and growth hormones can do and it wasn’t for me.” He smiles. “I did get into some fitness competitions and did well in them, well enough to make some money for school.” He’s got an ear-to-ear grin. “That’s great. What did you study?” “I’m still doing it. I’m taking Business classes. I want to open my own property management business. I figure running this place has taught me enough to have a firm base.” He still smiling and I smile with him. “Wow, that’s awesome. How much longer ‘til you’re done?” “I have two more classes, so by the end of the summer.” I nod. I decide to broach another question, “So I was checking out your tractor and trailer the other day and saw all the branches.” He smiles, knowing where this is going. He flexes his right bicep. “Ok, I guess that answers that question?” He laughs. “Just because I gave up bodybuilding doesn’t mean I gave up training. Not to sound conceited, but just because I’m not as big as those guys are, doesn’t mean I’m not as strong, or stronger than they are.” This explains why he was able to carry me back from the pond without a problem. “Also, it’s fun to test my strength trying to pull a dead tree out of the ground, or to move a large rock from a path, or to carry a sexy blonde hunk back from the pond.” My unit springs up and tents my PJs. He sees it and grins, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I look at him and point my finger, “No, I have to get stuff done.” He mischievously runs his tongue along his lips. “Stop it.” I say as forcefully as I can, while my unit bobs back and forth. He slowly flexes his right bicep. The softball appears. I groan. Suddenly he unflexes his arm, stands up, grabs the plates, and mockingly says, “Too bad, I really wanted to lift you up and make love to you standing up. But, you’re right, we both have things to do.” As he turns to walk into the house, I see him flex each glute. “You’re just mean, Jake.” I hear him laugh. We clean up and decide to meet up for dinner. We kiss and he takes off. I hear the tractor head down a path, most likely to clean up from the storm. ** I spend the next two weeks increasing my workouts and really getting my head screwed on properly. Jake spends time with me, when he can. He would spend a couple days a week in town doing odd jobs or helping out, to make money. Once or twice, he took me with him while he was doing some work on the property. He actually liked to show off his strength to me and would tear trees from the ground, roots and all, or lift large rocks over his head and tell me how much they weighed, before tossing them to the side with ease. Snapping branches off trees was his favorite thing to do. He’d pump up his arms by curling me, then walk over to a dead tree, and grab the limb. He’d flex for me, then rip the limb off with ease. I’d get hard, he’d get hard, then no more work would get done. Weekends were always just for us. Our time together became more meaningful. We talked more about our lives, our hopes and dreams, and what we really wanted. With the exercising and balanced diet, the weight I had gained, fell off. My body was back to a toned swimmer’s body. My abs re-appeared and my biceps started to grow and take shape again. On my third Saturday here, Jake surprised me in the afternoon. Nona had called on Friday to let me know she’d be away for the weekend, visiting some friends in town and wouldn’t be around, but that Mr. Fisher would be here, if I needed anything. I was relaxing by the pool, reading more about relaxation techniques when he came down the slope from behind the house. I didn’t hear his tractor. He called out to me, “Hey sexy.” I turned and saw he was in tan work pants, a black dry-mesh t-shirt, and his work boots. He was covered in sweat. His brown hair matted down under his baseball cap, and sweat stains around the crotch area of the pants. I stared at him for a moment and licked my lips. His arms were swollen from the work he’d done and there was sweat dripping from his brow to his cheeks. He walked right to me, leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I got a salty taste of his sweat. His meaty arm was on my shoulder. The weight felt good. We broke the kiss and I looked at him again and said, “Working hard, or hardly working?” I wink at him and he lets out a low chuckle. “Eh, a few saplings on the upper ridge needed to be thinned out. Figured I’d get it done before the heat kicks in.” He stands back up and starts to stretch. He raises his hands over his head and his shirt pulls out from his pants. His hairy abs come into view and I can see they are covered with sweat and matted to his rock-hard body. His pants drop a bit in the front and I get a view of his goodie trail. I lick my lips. His biceps swell over his head and he grunts as I hear some bones crack. He lets out a satisfied, “Ah….” And looks back down to me admiring his body. He smiles and reaches his meaty left hand to me. I take it as he easily pulls me up from the lounge chair and into an embrace. I take a deep breath and inhale his sexy, sweaty musk. He wraps his arms around me and softly asks, “Are you done your morning workout?” I nod yes. He kisses me and smiles. “Have you eaten lunch?” I nod again. Another kiss, this one deeper and longer. “So, I guess you’re free for a little bit, before your afternoon workout?” My cock starts to swell and now it’s his turn to smile as he feels it rise up in my shorts, against his solid thigh. I look him in the eye and ask, “How about you? You done your morning workout?” He nods yes with a wicked smile. I move closer and we kiss. I lower my voice and ask, “Have you eaten lunch?’ Another nod. I wrap my left hand around his neck and pull him close so we are cheek to cheek. I whisper, “So, I guess you’re fr…” His face turns and we start to kiss again. My right hand wanders up his left arm to his sweaty bicep. I let my fingers wander over the muscle, feeling the fibers of muscle as they twitch and coil. He raises the arm, flexes, and the muscle becomes hard. I suck in air and continue to grope him. He tenses it even more. My hand cannot cover the whole head of the muscle. My unit throbs in my bathing suit. He breaks our kiss, much to my dismay. He quickly sheds his t-shirt and starts to undo his belt. I squat down and untie his work boot laces. He puts his meaty hand on my head to steady himself. His hand encompasses my whole head. I feel him gently squeeze. When the boots are untied, I stand up, and put my arm for him to use to control his balance. He takes it and quickly kicks off the boots, his socks, then his pants. He’s standing in front of me in a purple posing bikini thong. I almost lose my load. I suck in a breath of air. His unit is rising as well and filling out the thong. We come back together and start to kiss. He ravages my mouth. My hands ravage his body, groping his wide back, his muscles lats, and then back to his chest. He puts his hands on my ass, squeezes my cheeks roughly, then pulls my body against his. Both our rock-hard units grind against each other. I dip down a bit, then rise up, causing more friction. He moans, tenses his body, then easily lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his tight waist and lock my ankles together. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull my body as close to his as I can. Sweat is pouring off both of us due to the mid-day sun and the feverish activity. He turns and slowly walks us to the pool. He takes us in, one step at a time. The warm water surrounds us and envelopes us. He walks us to the deep and pushes my back against the wall. I am still clinging to his body as he supports me. We continue to kiss. I run my fingers thru his hair and feel how soft and silky it is. He shakes his head and sweat comes off. He steps back from the wall, breaks our kiss, looks me in the eyes. His are twinkling. He smiles and softly asks, “Ready?” He takes a breath of air, inflating his muscular hairy chest, and holds it. He starts to descend into the water. I take a breath of air as well. He easily takes us both to the bottom and squats down. We both have our eyes open and are looking at each other. I close the distance and our faces touch. I purse my lips and start to kiss him again. I put my hands on his chest and tweak his nipples. He smiles at me thru the water, a few air bubbles slip from his lips, and I feel him tighten his grip on my ass. He squeezes with one hand, then the other. He alternates for a few beats, the squeezes both at the same time. He starts to stand up, pulling me up with him. His unit is straining the posers. We break the surface and our kiss. We both inhale and immediately go back to kissing. My hand goes to the nape of his neck and gently caresses the area. He walks us to the shallow and moves to sit on the stairs. I untangle me legs and arms. I stand and he moves to turn me around so my back is against his chest. He wraps his hands around my waist and feels up my abs. He growls into my right ear, “Sexy swimmer. I told you that you’d get back into shape.” I put my right hand on his forearm and feel the coiled muscles under the skin moving and twitching. The warm sun is beating down on us. I feel completely relaxed and at ease. I softly say back, “Well, you did help me quite a bit. Not sure how I can repay you for your help.” “I have one or two ideas…” I feel his rough tongue laps at the back of my right earlobe. He warm breath stirs my unit even more. I squirm a bit. He tightens his grip and says, “Consider this part of your repayment.” His hard unit pokes me under my left thigh. I can feel it wants to escape. I reach between my legs and take ahold of it softly. Jake sighs. I start to gently stroke it. Nice long movements. I feel his body become tense. His muscles constrict, his grip around my waist a bit firmer as his biceps expand. His teeth nibble my ear a bit rougher. His breath is coarser and not as paced as it usually is. I slow my movements so he does not release yet. I feel him slowly calm and his body returns to normal. He whispers, “That felt nice.” I massage his poser again. “Hmmm. I need to make you feel just as great.” I pat his forearm and say, “Just my way of saying ‘Thanks’. No reciprocation is needed.” He starts to stand, taking me up with him again, “But I want to.” Who am I to argue with a muscular brown-haired God? I turn to face him and see a mischievous grin on his face. He reaches out, puts his arms under my armpits and easily lifts me up, his biceps expanding. He carries me out of the pool and back to the lounge chair. He sets me down and I lean over to him for a kiss. He puts a finger up, indicating for me to hold on. He leans over to his work pants, rummages around in a pocket, and pulls out a condom. I raise an eyebrow to him and, with a smile ask, “You always walk around with condoms in your work pants?” He winks, kisses me, and replies, “Only since you arrived, sexy.” I blush. “Never know when the mood will strike.” He ogles my tanning body. My unit is pointing down my leg, but is bulging out, creating a funny ‘three-legged’ look. He steps closer, grabs my girth, and gives it a few squeezes with expertise. His fingers move up to the knot holding the suit up and he deftly undoes it. I put my hands on the sides and quickly push it to the ground. My unit springs northward, brushing his leg, then bouncing off my abs. His fingers rake my trimmed pubic hair, then move to my freed unit. His calloused hand has an erotic feel as he pumps me. He steps back, looks down at his bulge, then looks back up into my eyes. I reach out and grab the sides of the posers and skillfully slide them down his tree-trunk legs. His unit also bounces up and off his furry rock-hard abs. He hands me the tin-foil wrapper. I rip it open and hold the condom. He glances down at his unit, then winks at me. I kneel, swallow him to the hilt, and coat him with a layer of saliva. I slide off and slip the rubber on him. I jerk him a few times to make sure it’s not too tight. He puts his hands under my pits and lifts me to a standing position. I start to turn to the patio table to present my ass to him, but he grabs my arm, keeps me facing him, and winks again. He pulls me close, leans to my ear, and whispers, “Paid in full.” He grabs me by my waist, hoists me up with ease, and lowers me to his tip, his biceps flexed but not showing any sign of strain due to my added weight. I reach around and position him at my hole. I relax and let him slide into me. Down…down…and down some more. I hit his crotch and my feet brush the ground. I let out a heavy sigh, as does he. He moves his hands back to my ass. I grab his softball-sized biceps and grope him. He flexes and effortlessly starts to lift me up and down. Pre-cum starts to immediately dribble out of my steel pole and slide down into the valley between our bodies. It gets caught up in the hair on his mid-section. Blood rushes thru the veins in his arms. I can see them pulsing as he lifts and lowers me. I wrap my hands around the mounds and feel the power coursing thru them. I close my eyes and imagine him holding back the mudslide with a few tree trunks. His legs dug into the wet ground, his thighs and calves exploding as they fight to stay still and hold back the onslaught. His chest heaves as he sucks in air and steadily blows it out. Sweat pours off his head, down his shirtless hairy chest, to his soaked skin tight mesh shorts. I stand on the ground behind him, hand on his back to steady him, as if he needed it. He turns, smiles, and says ‘climb on my back.’ I do as he asks. He tells me to ‘wrap your arms around my neck and legs around my waist, and hold on tight.’ I do. He casually asks, ‘Ready?’ and before I have a chance to respond, he drops the tree trunks and jumps ten feet in the air to a nearby tree. He lands on a sturdy branch, turns his head and says, ‘Don’t let go.” I think to myself, why would I want to. He squats down and the muscles in his legs coil with energy, and when he pushes off, we explode off the branch to the next one. He leaps to another tree, then another. Soon we are above the mudslide and away from any danger. He takes one final jump and softly lands on the muddy ground. My body is snug to his broad chest, my hands draped over his neck. He starts to walk us back to the house. I let go of his neck and slide off him. He turns, scoops me up and kisses me full on the lips. ‘Why walk, when I can, and want, to carry you, sexy man?’ I wrap my arm around his neck and let him do his thing. Who am I to argue with him? I place my hand on his chest and feel the muscles twitching and pulsing with every step he takes. My unit starts to rise in my shorts. He sees the bulge and laughs. ‘Hold on for two more minutes, Cole, we’re almost there.’ I come out of my dream and croak, “Close…” He pulls me off him, tosses me up a few feet, catches me in his arms, lays my on the lounge chair, leans over, and swallows me completely. He expertly moves his tongue around, massaging all the sensitive nerves under the mushroom cap of my unit. I grip the sides of the chair, tense my body and let my load fly. As it leaves me, Jake opens his throat and swallows every drop. After I’m done, he uses his tongue again and carefully cleans me off. I soften. He lets me slide out of his mouth. He moves up my body, nibbling and kissing along the way, until he’s at my chest. He sucks on a nipple. I put my left hand on top of his head and push him down. His teeth latch on and his tongue gently runs across the tip of the nipple. My unit stirs. I reach my hand to his unit, which is still sheathed. I pull the condom off and jerk him. He moans and warm air splashes onto my chest, along with some saliva. I get a firmer grip, knowing he likes rough play, and try to pull his dick off his body. He lets out a deep, animalistic growl. He climbs on top of me, his sweaty body covering me completely. We are chest to chest and head-to-head. I wrap my legs around his thin tight waist and squeeze. He grinds his body to mine for a few minutes, heating up his muscles. We kiss and nibble at each other. I’m now at full mast. He tenses his body, rears back, pulling me with him. He climbs off the chair with ease, walks to the side of the pool and says, “Big finish little man.” He turns so his back is to the pool and falls in, my body coming down on top of his as he hits the warm water. I am clinging to him, so our bodies don’t bang together. I feel him release as we hit. He holds me tight and sinks to the bottom, still shooting his load. The water around our midsection becomes cloudy with cum. I soon realize, I came as well. After we both finish, we untangle from each other and float to the surface. Our heads break the water and we take a deep breath of warm air. I take a few steps toward the shallow end and regain my balance. He’s right beside me. I feel him take my hand in his. He gently squeezes. I turn and we kiss. He breaks the kiss, smiles, and says, “Two loads within a few minutes of each other. I’m impressed.” I blush and say, “Well, I had some incentive.” I let my other hand roam over his chest. He flexes it and it becomes hard. I glance down and see his unit is starting to match his chest. Mine is not far behind. We climb out of the pool and go to the lounge chairs. We spend the rest of afternoon, relaxing under an umbrella, just enjoying each other’s company, and several more rounds of aquatic activities. ** Nona and I warmed up to each other. She made her lasagna one day and brought some of it over. The three of us had dinner together. It was excellent. I made her some of my sprouts and she really enjoyed them. ** I could feel my body righting itself, getting back to where I should be, before Covid hit and before I became obsessed with my career. I started to reassess whether my job was right for me. I have other skills that would help me get a job someplace else. ** I am nearing the end of the last week. We’re sitting by the pool, legs dangling in the warm water as the sun sets. Jake knows this and has spent the last three days with me. I told him to go do the other jobs, make the money he needs for school. He brushes it off and says, “Plenty of time for that later.” I sigh. He looks at me and with all seriousness says, “Cole, hasn’t this past month showed you that money isn’t everything?” He spreads his muscular arms wide and waves to the view around us. I look out, over the valley and meadow below, to the mountains in the distance. The red, orange, and gold streaks of sunlight painting the valley. I know what he means, but the thought of having to be back at work Monday morning has stirred my old life awake inside of me. “I would never think to tell someone what is best for them, but in this case, I think I’m, going to make an exception.” I turn to him. He’s smiling at me, those twinkling green eyes, his sexy wavy brown hair, the dimples in his cheeks, I think he’s going to change the direction of my life. “Over this past month, I think we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well,” I cock an eyebrow at him with a sarcastic smile, and he smiles back saying, “besides the sex, which is outstanding, but, I mean, you’ve shared your whole life with me, which I doubt you’ve done to anyone where you work?” “Jake…” I pause, not sure what to say, but knowing what I want to say. He reaches his right hand over puts it on my cheek. He quietly asks, “Will you stay here…with me?” My heartbeat quickens. I grin. I nibble on my lip. I close my eyes and think for a minute. But then I hear him say, “Stop overthinking it.” I open my eyes and look at him. He says, “Yes, our sex is great, but I think…no, I know we’ve got something here.” He moves his hand between us, touching my leg gently. “I know it…and you know it as well.” I sigh, knowing he is right. I’m still tentative. “Cole, were you nervous when you got your job 9 years ago?” I nod yes, “Did the nervousness go away right away, or did it take time?” I shrug knowing what he’s talking about. He rubs my leg in a caring way, letting me know he’s here for me. I look back into his eyes, and see them dancing with excitement. I look away and think to myself, ‘I know what he says is true, and yes, I want to stay here with him,’ A tear falls from my eye, ‘but…my life in the city’. Then I remember what it had been like, and not just the past year, but the last few years. I straighten my back, brush the tear away. I turn to him, grin, and say, “Yes.” He leans over and we kiss, deeply, lips locked together and tongues playing with each other. I close my eyes, as he holds our heads together with his strong hands, and see the last of my worries and anxieties flow down the stream and out of my life. I open my eyes and Jake is still right there, my new life.

Synopsis: An un-named narrator gives the firsthand account of his friend's growth from twig to big, over a span of one year. He wrote it down so it might serve as inspiration to skinny guys everywhere, looking to grow huge. January My roommate, Thomas, and I moved into our new apartment on January 1st. We had known each other since freshmen year of college and hit it off from the start, becoming close friends. After college we each moved back in with our respective families for a few years. When I was ready for independence from my parents, I suggested that he and I get a place together and he agreed. The apartment was spacious, over 1600 square feet with a big kitchen and living room, two bedrooms, and lots of storage space. It covered the whole second floor of a three-story house on a quiet suburban street. At $1900 a month, it wasn’t cheap, but we could manage it. Thomas and I shared a similar personality and tastes. We were both quiet liberals, who like superhero movies and reading good books. Physically, however, we were very different. I was white. He was of Indian descent, with skin the color of caramel. At 6 foot 4, I towered over his 5’ 7’’ frame. While I was no bodybuilder, I kept my body fit with calisthenics and was a solid 195 pounds. Thomas was a rail thin 120. He ate poorly and seldom worked out beyond the occasional pushups and sit-ups. He didn’t look sickly or anorexic, just plain skinny. I was a lot stronger than him. When moving furniture into the place I was able to lift things, he could hardly budge: dressers, desks, hutches. If something required both of us, like a sofa, I would see him struggling at his end while I would hardly break a sweat. “Damn, what’s it feel like to walk around with that kind of strength,” he asked once. I laughed. “I’m not really that strong.” He looked at my physique, my sweaty shirt clinging to the modest muscle I had. “Well compared to me…” I tapped him on the back. “Compared to you, I’m the hulk!” I grabbed him playfully, putting one hand under his armpit and the other on his leg and began pressing him over my head. He was so light. “Woah, dude! Put me down!” He sounded a little annoyed. “Sorry, are you scared of heights?” I laughed. He smiled and shook his head. “Let’s finish moving this stuff Hercules,” Thomas said. Later that month I visited a tag sale and came away with a bunch of workout equipment: adjustable dumbbells that could go up to 80 pounds, resistance bands, a weight bench, and some chains. The lady running the sale gave me a great deal. $75 for the whole lot. I was ecstatic. Combined with the pullup bar and few weights I already had, it made a nice little home gym. It was perfect for me, since I never liked going to gyms. I put all the stuff in the living room and told Thomas he was free to use it whenever he liked. “Thanks, but I’m good,” he said, dismissive. One day I saw him attempt to lift one of the heavier weights. He yanked at it, getting it a couple of inches off the ground, before letting it drop back down. “Maybe you should start with the light ones,” I said. “Don’t want to strain yourself.” He looked up, startled, obviously not knowing I had been watching. “Oh, no. I wasn’t working out,” he said. “I was just curious how heavy they were. You use those for your chest?” “Nah, those are 50s. I can curl those,” I said. “I do chest presses with the 80s.” He nodded. “Cool.” Later that evening we were watching a movie. In one scene, a pair of muscular men were arm wrestling. Their thick, meaty biceps were bursting out of their sleeves. Thomas was wearing a sleeveless shirt, as he only did around the apartment (he would never dare display his spindly arms in public). I glanced over at him from time to time. He was looking at his arms and subtly flexing them on an off as if he were comparing them to the arms of the men on screen. “What do you think I’d look like with muscles like that?” He said, suddenly, while pointing toward the screen. “Well, personally I think all men look better with a little muscle on them, but as far as you building muscle like those guys, I don’t think you have the frame for it.” He was silent for a moment, them blurted out, “I’m tired of being a twig.” I was happy to hear him say that. I had often fantasized about what he would look like with a better physique and liked what my mind’s eye came up with. “Start eating more and lifting weights,” I said. “I think I will.” He looked down at his skinny arms again and flexed. I pulled my sleeve up, held my arm next to his and flexed. It was twice as wide as his and far more defined. “Maybe before the year is over, you’ll have guns like these.” I slapped my bicep and we shared a smile. February Thomas started using my weights. He lifted the lightest ones I owned, the 20s and 25s, doing mostly curls, shoulder presses, lunges, and flies. His lifted six days a week, before or after work, but his workouts weren’t very organized or structured. I had designated days for each body part, making sure to hit each twice a week, with two rest days. I also made sure I was progressing in weight or rep count. Thomas, however, didn’t seem to have a plan. He just did a few reps of this exercise and a few reps of that exercise, hoping results would come like magic. “You gotta push yourself,” I told him. “Workout to failure. Track what you’re doing and each week, go for a little more.” “I thought I was pushing myself.” “Your workouts are consistent, I’ll admit. Six days a week, never missing one. Impressive for someone who never worked out before,” I said, with a supportive tone, “but I think you’d see more progress if you worked out less often, but really killed it, to point where you’re sore the next day.” “I was working up to that.” “Sure, you were.” I patted him on the back, and laughed. “I’m serious. I just didn’t want to jump into it and go overboard,” Thomas said. “Do you want to get bigger?” “Yes.” “Then no excuse.” I walked him over to the weights. “Pick up those 25s. That’s what you’ve been using.” Thomas lifted the weights and held them at his side. He looked at me, wondering what was next. “Curl ‘em.” He did so. “Stop. It doesn’t look too difficult for you.” “They’re heavy,” he said. “But not heavy enough.” I put 35 pounds on the adjustable weights. “Here curl these.” Thomas lifted them up with a grunt. He pumped them up and down and I could tell he was working harder. His body was more tense. His face more strained. “Perfect!” I said. “These are really heavy.” “Exactly.” I looked down at him with a smile. “From now on the 20s and 25s are your warmup weights. I want you to add 5 to 10 pounds to all your lifts starting now.” “Wait a minute.” Thomas put the weights down. “I’m supposed to be warming up?” I face palmed. “Well, maybe not with these fly weight you were using, but once you start going heavier, I would definitely start warming up to avoid injury.” He nodded. “And let’s talk about your diet.” “What’s wrong with my diet?” He asked, “I’ve been eating more.” “That’s not saying much dude. I have a cousin in the second grade that eats more than you. Adding an extra bowl of Fruit Loops, or two extra donuts to your day isn’t going to cut it. Muscle is made of protein. You like chicken and beef, so eat more of that. You see what I eat.” “Yeah, well you’ve got 70 pounds on me.” “Thomas, Thomas, Thomas!” I slung an arm over his shoulder. “You’re not eating for the size you are, my friend. You’re eating for the size you want to be. A philosopher once said, ‘Eat big to get big.’” “And which philosopher was that?” Thomas smiled. “Swolistotle.” We shared a laugh. Thomas took my advice and one day he came home from the grocery store with bags of frozen chicken tenders, chicken nuggets, and meatballs. I would have preferred to see raw, whole foods but he didn’t know how to cook, so I understood why he got the ready-made stuff. He also ordered a 12-pound bag of chocolate mass gainer off of Amazon. During the last week of the month his workouts were intense. He pushed himself harder than he had all month, grunting like a beast, lifting as heavy as he could. His workouts were long, and he’d walk away from them soaked in sweat. The eating was a different story. He’d fill a plate with food and struggle to finish it, often letting the half-eaten plate sit in the refrigerator until the next day. “Just keep pushing yourself,” I said. “Eventually your stomach will stretch out.” “I don’t know man. I’ve never eaten this much fucking food in my life. It’s harder than the lifting.” I suggested he watch eating challenge videos on YouTube for inspiration. I also suggested the names of several fitness Youtubers I found knowledgeable and entertaining. He said he’d check them out. At the end of the month, he weighed himself on our bathroom scale and found that he had gained 2 pounds, now weighing 122. I knew it was probably just ‘water’ weight from the increased eating he had done in the last week, but he was so happy about it, I didn’t say anything to burst his bubble. I simply congratulated him. It was a start and I saw good things coming for him in March. March Thomas became obsessed with fitness youtubers, studying their habits and absorbing as much of their knowledge as possible. He read article after article on muscle growth, supplementation, diet, and weightlifting. It became his goal to find the most efficient techniques to build muscle and it looked like it was working. I saw him flexing shirtless in front of the large mirror in our living room. He was beginning to get quite toned. His meals increased each week. A bag of chicken that would have lasted him 2 weeks before, was now gone in 4 days. “How much protein are you getting?” I asked him one day in mid-March. “200 grams.” That was more than me. I was impressed watching him force down meal after meal, even when I could tell he didn’t want to. After a huge dinner, twice as big as any meal he would have eaten months ago, I would find him recline on the couch with a hand on his distended abdomen looking uncomfortable. And still, an hour later, I’d find him in the kitchen making a massive protein shake and chugging it down, determined to get more calories and protein in him. Determined to grow! He had taken my advice about working out hard and pushed himself 5 days a week, doing as many sets, with as much weight as he could lift. His shirts and sweatpants would be soaked through with sweat, clinging to his lean frame. His little muscles would be pumped to the max and aching. He said he kind of like the pain, however. It made him feel like he was doing something. Tearing down his muscle fibers, so he could build them back up bigger and stronger with all the food he was eating. By the end of the month, he was up an impressive 6 pounds. Now 128. “The newbie gains are starting to kick in now man,” I said. “Keep it up.” “Oh, I plan to.” He did a double bicep pose. “I’m hooked.” On the 31st he received a large box in the mail. He bought it into the kitchen and began emptying it on the counter. I watched in shock as he pulled out bottle after bottle and bag after bag of what must have been $350 in supplements. Creatine; BCAAs; Citrulline malate; nitric oxide; casein; Glutamine; and more. He turned to me and grinned. “I’m going for 8 pounds next month.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 I was walking like a freak of nature. I looked like one of those people who thinks speed-walking is a sport. My jogging would have been slower. But, I couldn't help myself. I was getting looks from passers-by. I didn't even care. I was eager to get to the Den and hopefully be there before Jolias has to wait for too long. But I also just wanted to see him again. I wanted to be in his presence. There was a bit of an incline leading up from the Den towards the main classroom building, and as I rounded the corner, I stumbled and almost fell, looking like an idiot as I basically danced my way back to balance. And not gracefully. I decided to slow my pace a bit after that, but fortunately I was already pretty much at the Den anyway. I approached the double-doors of the building, and I slowed my walk even further. There were several students milling around outside socializing, either coming or going. But I didn't see Jolias. I couldn't tell, obviously, if he'd beaten me here and already gone inside or if he hadn't arrived yet. I looked around, and I couldn't see that telltale mop of dark hair. I kept glancing in the direction of where the campus gym was to see if he was coming, and I didn't see him. But if I walked inside to see if he was already in there, and he wasn't, he may arrive and wonder where I am. So I texted him. Where you at And then like a child waiting to be told he could open his Christmas gift, I stared at my phone, waiting for those iPhone bubbles to appear to let me know he was typing a response. But nothing came up. It was times like this when I actually wished he had his read-receipt function turned on. But, then again, sometimes not knowing was better. I decided to sit on one of the benches that was outside of the building. The chill of the cold bench made me shiver even more than I already was from wearing only a short-sleeve shirt, having been forced to tie my hoodie around my waist thanks to my ever-present erection, leaking so much precum that I looked like I pissed myself. All just from thinking about this dude. My phone continued to rest within my fingers, waiting for the telltale sound of a text message coming through. I sat there, staring off into the distance, the noise of the surrounding students and any other commotion just a dull hum in the background, as I waited for some sign of Jolias. I mean, shit, the gym was about equidistant from the Den as the main classroom building. What the fuck was taking him so long? Was he even coming? I stared down at my phone's homescreen, not even bothering to check the text thread to see if those bubbles would ever appear. I was beginning to wonder if he'd changed his mind and decided to do something else. Or perhaps he met some other dude at the campus gym and became fast friends like he did with me. I mean, he did meet me for all of two minutes and immediately invited me to a late dinner. Why wouldn't he do the same with someone else? There's got to be about a thousand other dudes here who are cooler and much more attractive than I am. "BLARGHHH" a sudden guttural, throaty exclamation came from some entity that was immediately behind my ears, and I felt strong hands grip and lightly shove my shoulders forward as I sat on the cold bench. I damn near dropped my phone, but whipped my head around once in one direction, only seeing a blur of a humanoid figure in my peripheral vision, then rotated my head in the other direction to see the origin of the noise and contact. And as always, at least so far, my heart fluttered and butterflies danced within my gut as I looked upon the seething hotness that is Jolias. He had that shit-eating grin upon his face, knowing full well that he startled the shit out of me. And suddenly the background noise was back to full volume as I heard people talking, sounds of traffic, and the somewhat dull sounds of nature as a few remaining birds chirped and squawked in the distance. And fuck. He was covered up. Hoodie zipped up, pants, and even his backpack was slung across his shoulder adding just that extra bit of obscurity to his body. I was hoping he'd been too lazy to get completely dressed, but then again, perhaps this is what took him so long. He was getting dressed. "Fuck you, dude," I said, muttering it, attempting to appear annoyed. "Aw did I scare ya?" he chuckled, feigning concern that he'd done what he suggested. I couldn't help but grin. "Almost made me drop my phone, ya dickhead," I responded, still holding a grin on my face, but I realized I was attempting, poorly, to hide the fact I was amused. "Yeah yeah, you didn't though, so... why are you only wearing your t-shirt? Y'know the thing around your waist can be worn as a sort of 'hoodie,' right?" he asked sarcastically. He even did the air-quotes. I couldn't tell him... or rather, I couldn't comfortably explain to him that I once again made a mess of myself just from thinking about him and needed to cover up. "You're fucking shivering dude, come on let's go inside, I'm starving anyway." He then literally grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet, and guided me to the doors. My heart was dancing within my chest. Truthfully I didn't even realize I was shivering, but the other physical affects he was having on me made me oblivious. Just his touch upon my bare forearm made my cock throb and swell. Thankfully I was already covered up. Once inside, I felt the warm air envelop my body and immediately I realized just how chilly I was outside. FUCK I needed to dress more appropriately for these events. An extra hoodie or even a jacket would be a good idea from here on out. He released my arm once we were inside, though, and I exhaled in disappointment. I looked down at the hand that was no longer wrapped around my arm and I envisioned myself grabbing it, entwining my fingers with his. But I had to purge the idea from my mind as I'm sure he'd probably reject my hand if I attempted it. I looked back up and saw him staring at me, a cool look of indifference on his face. "'Sup." I felt my face burn red and I had to look away. He chuckled but didn't say anything more. We walked into the dining area and got in line to order food. "So, uh, Jolias, how was the gym?" I finally managed to sputter out. "It was alright, nothing too extreme. Did a light workout today, which was good since now I get to have lunch with you," he stated super matter-of-factly, bumping his shoulder into mine as we stood in line. My cock throbbed. I couldn't tell if I was in love or in lust, but I couldn't care at the moment. He was just too cute. "Oh, what made it just 'alright,' and not, like, awesome?" I asked, trying to get more out of him. He chuckled. "I D K," he shrugged, once again saying the actual letters instead of the words "I don't know." "I had, well, still have a lot on my mind." "That can affect your workout?" I asked, genuinely interested. I've never really spent any real time working out myself, so I didn't know what it was like. I was also super curious about what was on his mind, but it seemed like it could be private stuff and I didn't want to seem nosy and annoying. "Yeah dude, it can be hard to focus when you're thinking of other things, especially if it's stuff that stresses you out. And I'm not saying I'm stressed, I'm just using an example. I could've focused harder on my muscles as I was lifting, but my mind kept going elsewhere." "How does it help to focus on your muscles while lifting?" I asked. He smiled at me, kindly. "Well, it definitely helps when you work a specific muscle to focus on it, make it flex hard as you reach every contraction. It maximizes the affect of the weight and strain you put on it." And then he cocked an eyebrow at me. "I take it you haven't spent much time in a gym, have ya?" I looked away, a bit embarrassed. He'll probably think I'm a weak loser, but I can't exactly hide the fact I'm not a gym-goer if I'm asking him these questions. I hadn't considered the possible consequences of asking these questions. "No dude, s-sorry," I sputtered out, still looking away. "Why are you sorry?" he asked, chuckling. "Oh! Uh, I dunno," I replied, looking back at him, shrugging. "Come with me next time! If you wanna learn more and workout, I'll help!" he exclaimed, a little excitedly. "How about I just watch, and try not to explode cum into my pants" I thought to myself. "Right, I forgot you already asked me to come," I said, raising my hand to the back of my head. "Wouldn't I just slow you down?" "Nope!" "But--" and that's all I got out before he shoved me lightly in the chest. "Stop overthinking things, dude. Sometimes it pays to just do something. So, come on!" he said, and pulled my arm, and me, to the counter since it was finally our turn to order food. "Man I just wanna see you workout" I thought to myself as I was stating my order to the dude behind the counter. I wasn't even sure of what I was ordering; my mind had detached itself from my body. I needed to make it known to Jolias that I wanted him. That I wanted to date him. That I wanted to kiss him so badly that I quivered in anticipation just thinking about it. But, love is hard. It shouldn't be, but it is. Friendships are hard, too, especially when they dance around the boundaries of love and sex. I could have this amazing friend Jolias for the rest of my life if I keep my mouth shut and swallow my feelings. If I admit my attraction to him, he might pull away and we could end up being total strangers to each other within a year. Or, just maybe... "Dude, you comin'?" Jolias called over to me as I stood like a fool just holding my tray of food, still at the cash register. Fuck. I felt my face flush a little red as the heat spread across my cheeks. Embarrassed for having zoned out, I didn't actually say anything and just swiftly walked towards Jolias as he stood there with a slightly amused expression. He kind of cocked his head to the side as I approached him, and just chuckled. "W-what?" I said, accidentally stammering, failing to play it off like nothing happened there. "Nothin' dude, you're just cute," he said, putting his tray down on one of the few empty tables in The Den. He stopped moving for a moment as I was taking a seat, and it clicked in my brain that he'd just called me cute. "I mean--" he started to say, but I cut him off. "You think I'm cute?" I asked, using a tone I can't recall using before. I needed an answer. And, yeah, he told me I was cute at Denny's. But, that seemed more like a reciprocation for having told him he was hot. This time, it was unsolicited. He just said it. And it means he actually meant it. It was like a confirmation I'd been hoping for but never thought I'd ever get. "Um, I mean..." he stuttered. His face was turning a shade of red. And fuck. It was so cute. Suddenly I realized our roles had been reversed. At Denny's I was the one stuttering about how I thought he was hot. Now it was his turn. I was actually seated in my chair, tray of food in front of me, but Jolias was still standing there, holding his backpack, his chair not even pulled out yet, and it was the first time I'd seen him behaving in a not-so-confident manner. I couldn't help but smirk a little. But then, in an instant, I saw Jolias's body relax as he calmly put his backpack down and pulled his chair out, and sat down. A small smile creeped across his lips as he glanced at me and finally said "Dude I told you last night I thought you were cute." I was totally shocked, as always, to see him take a situation in which I'd be a total wreck and turn it into another display of his self-confidence. And he wasn't wrong. He did say it last night, too. But this time was different. "Right, but this time..." I started to say but trailed off. I was trying to keep the upper hand here but I was failing. "This time what?" he said, giving me little time to reform my thoughts. He was grinning, now. "This time you said it out of nowhere." He paused and looked up for a second like he was thinking. "Okay, I'll put it out there on the table now. I think you're cute," he lowered his voice a little. "And sexy." My face went red again and I felt my jaw drop a little. "And I can't stop wondering if we'd make a good couple." Of course, I didn't have any way of knowing what he truly meant by make a good couple, but in my own mind I had my own version of that sentiment. I wasn't sure we'd be a good couple because I thought I wasn't good enough for him. But here he was, telling me he thought I was cute and sexy. "Why wouldn't we make a good couple?" I asked, lowering my voice to match his. He looked around again, like he thought we were being watched. And for the second time in just a short span of time, I got to see Jolias display a level of uncertainty he'd never exhibited before. It was odd to see his self-confidence so uncharacteristically low. "I just... I mean..." he started, and stuttered a little. He kept fidgeting with his hands on the table. And we each seemed to have forgotten we even had food as it grew colder on the table, completely ignored by us. "There's a... thing... about me that I'm not sure you'd like." "I'm sure that's false," I blurted out instantly, already overly confident that there couldn't possibly be a single thing about him I wouldn't like. "Don't be so sure, dude," he said, almost in a whisper. His smile was still there, but it was more subdued than I'd ever seen it, like he was super unsure if he should even still be sitting here. I reached out and took one of his hands into my own and gripped it. "Tell me what it is." It was almost like the drop in his confidence made mine rise a little. He didn't recoil his hand, either. He let me hold it. He closed his eyes. "Meet me in the bathroom." "What?" "Just meet me in the bathroom," he repeated, pulling his hand out of mine. He stood up, totally ignoring his food, and walked away, heading straight out of the dining area towards the bathroom. I glanced down at my tray and felt my stomach grumble. I sighed and scooted my chair away from the table and stood up. "Guess lunch will have to wait," I thought to myself. But then the butterflies settled into my stomach, replacing the hunger, as I started to realize there are only just a few rational reasons why a dude would ask me to meet him in the bathroom, as I walked towards the bathroom where I assume Jolias was now waiting. I gripped the handle of the bathroom door and attempted to turn it. It was locked. I jiggled it a little, which is obligatory. I don't think anyone ever just tries a locked door handle just once. I glanced around, and Jolias wasn't standing anywhere nearby, so he had to be the one inside. But I hesitated to knock. But before I could even settle on a decision, knock or don't knock, the door swung open just wide enough and a strong hand gripped my upper arm and pulled me inside. I stumbled a little and as I regained my balance, I heard the door shut and the lock turn. I turned around and saw him standing there, his back against the door, like he thought the lock wouldn't be enough and he needed to hold it shut. He had an indifferent expression on his face. His red eyes were focused, intense, like he was thinking hard about something. "I need to see something," he simply stated, as he stepped away from the door towards me. There was a mirror above the sink across from the single toilet in the room. It wasn't a huge room, but it was large enough since it was equipped for handicap accessibility. "Something that requires the bathroom?" I asked, my voice shaky. "I wanted privacy. Don't wanna get other people involved if I can help it," he stated, and reached up and started pulling down the zipper of his hoodie. "Wh-what?" I felt myself step backwards for some reason, like I was afraid he'd attack me. "What are you doing?" I asked as I watched him unzip his hoodie in what seemed like an achingly slow manner. "Just..." he started to say something but stopped, and suddenly yanked the zipper all the way down in a swift motion. As the hoodie was now separated down the middle, I could see he had on a tight garment underneath. It looked like a wife-beater. I saw abs poking through the thin fabric, and my mouth was already salivating. He had abs! And not the barely-there type. They were showing through his fucking shirt! My breath caught in my throat, and I could see him eyeing me, reading my reaction. His eyes narrowed a bit, and I started to worry about what type of behaviors he was expecting from me. Did he want me to be pleased? Did he want me to be disgusted? Was I supposed to simply be indifferent? I had to strive for zero reaction because I didn't want to push him away. I swallowed the drool I'd already accumulated and focused on keeping myself together. He shrugged the hoodie off entirely in another swift motion and I was right. It was a wife-beater underneath. Black. And form-fitting. His delicious abs were poking through, and there were easily six bricks there. And nice taut pecs were visible, along with his muscle-capped shoulders and toned arms. The kind of arms you don't even need to see flexed to know they belonged to a dude who worked out. He dropped his arms to his sides, holding the hoodie, letting it dangle. My cock was growing again, and I was glad I still had it hidden by my own hoodie around my waist. "Wh-what are you trying to see?" I asked him, enjoying the sight before me. He turned enough to hang his hoodie on the hook attached to the back of the door of the bathroom, and I got a glimpse of his lats as they flared a little. He then looked back at me, still with no real expression, and crossed his arms in an X front of him, gripping the bottom hem of his wife-beater and in one fluid motion pulled it up over his head, tossing it to the floor. I literally heard myself gasp, and I couldn't help it. I definitely couldn't stop it. Jolias was standing there, shirtless, nothing covering his upper body any longer. His hair was slightly disheveled now, but it didn't matter because he was hot as fuck. The sun had nothing on him. My cock was at full attention once again, thanks to Jolias, and he was a vision of pure beauty. Sexiness. Hotness. He was incredible. His body wasn't huge by any means, but his muscles were tight, toned, and he had muscular curves in all the right places. And that six-pack was amazing. He even had that adonis belt that made me want to jizz in my pants whenever I so much as looked at one. And this one was attached to Jolias, the hottest guy I'd ever seen. And in an instant, Jolias was across the small room. His hand pressed me against the wall and then he put both hands against it, trapping me. And now, with my back against the wall, his toned arms on either side of me, his face was mere inches from mine. I heard our breathing, my heart thudding in my chest, and nothing else. We said nothing. Jolias's eyes were intense, red, and they were like balls of fire in his head. Bright. He finally broke the silence, "Check this out." And he brought his right arm up into a bicep-flex. And FUCK. His arm tensed into a sexy ball of muscle that I couldn't have even imagined. It was so defined and toned. A small vein protruded from the top as he held the flex. I couldn't move. I was frozen. I didn't know what kind of reaction would make him decide we were compatible, since that seemed to be the big question in his head. But I couldn't hold it back any longer. My desire was too great. I needed to feel it. So, I reached my hand up and gripped his ball of muscle and squeezed. And it was hard as a rock. Hot to the touch. And then I saw the slight curve of a smile on his lips. I took that to mean this is at least somewhat of a reaction he was looking for. I prodded it with my fingers, squeezing and poking it, and it was so hard. Hot, sexy, toned Jolias muscles finally revealed. I took a risk and used my other hand to run my fingers down his slight pecs and onto his abs, feeling the individual bricks of muscle he'd developed. He didn't recoil. In fact, his tiny smile only seemed to grow. "Would you wanna see me get bigger?" he asked. I was breathless. FUCK yes I did. But I promised myself that I'd do something specific the next time we were this close together. I tilted my head forward and kissed him. And his flexed arm fell along with the other one that was trapping me on my other side. They fell and hung like wet noodles as I pressed my lips into his. And my own hands reached up and gripped the back of his head, feeling his soft hair. Running my fingers through his thick mane of beautiful hair, I held his head in place, enjoying the taste of his lips. "Mmmmm" I heard him groan, and suddenly his arms were around me, his firm muscles pressing against me. I felt one hand on my ass and he squeezed it, and my own hands started to venture away from his soft hair. I explored the expanse of his back, feeling even more muscles back there that he'd grown. His whole body was tight and hard and oh-so-sexy. My hard cock was pressed against his body now, and it was throbbing intensely. I was certain I could cum just from the friction against his body. But then I noticed something hard poking me back down there. I reached down and gripped his cock for the first time. "Mmmm" I moaned into his mouth, our lips still locked. It would have been "Wow," but I couldn't speak and I wasn't about to break this amazing kiss. His cock was thick and hard as steel. His arms tightened around me, and he squeezed me against his body, his tongue dancing within my mouth, wrestling my own tongue. I squeezed his hard dick again, and I could swear it felt bigger and harder. And I felt his whole body shudder against me, and suddenly it felt like my head was tilting upwards a bit to keep my lips locked with his. He must've been standing on his toes. And then he pulled his lips off mine, his eyes closed. His head was tilted back, "Uunngh" he grunted, and I watched him somehow stand even taller, his previously shorter height now somehow greater than mine. I looked down to check his feet, and they were flat on the ground. My eyes widened, and I looked back up just in time for him to push himself away from me. In a flash, I saw thicker pecs, wider shoulders, and even tighter abs, but only for an instant before Jolias suddenly turned around. "I-- I'm sorry!" he gasped loudly, bending down to grab his beater and practically tore his hoodie as he pulled it off the hook on the door. "What--" I started to say but he didn't even try to put his clothes back on. He unlocked the door and whipped it open and was gone. The door clicked shut again and I was left standing there, staring at nothing but an empty bathroom. I almost literally jumped across the room and opened the door to give chase, but he was already out of sight. I saw people looking in the direction I'd only assume he'd gone, but I reconsidered the idea of running after him. Probably not a good look to go chasing after a dude who just ran from a bathroom, shirtless. I felt a little heartbroken, but at the same time, extremely interested in what just happened. Was Jolias just taller than I realized? Did he grow taller just now? Or was I on some sort of hallucinogenic drugs? Why did he run? I was confused, to say the least. I went back to the table we'd taken in the dining area and his backpack was still there. As were our trays of untouched, now cold, food. If he wanted to already break off a relationship that never even truly got a chance to happen, he'd have to come to me to get his shit. *** I didn't expect that. He kissed me. And it was so hot. I was definitely getting the impression he'd be into my body. And I was right. He likes my muscles. But he fucking kissed me. I want him so bad. He fucking kissed me! I didn't fucking plan for that! I was about to let myself loose, and I didn't even realize it 'til it was already starting. I had to run. I had no choice. But now I have to deal with the fallout somehow. How would I explain this to him? And he never answered me. I still don't know if he'd like me bigger.

This is my first story so any positve feedback would be really appreciated Big Dicked Truck Driver PT1 My name is Tony, I had only been at my new company at major distrubution hub for a few weeks, I had previously worked in sales so this was the first manual job I had ever done. I took to my new role as a warehouse operator suprisingly well even though I am a regular at the gym and have built up a decent physique at 5ft7 and 210lbs, I am the proud owner of 17.5 biceps, 48 chest, a 32 waist and 27 inch quads, gym muscles don't really prepare you for the constant manual labour my new job demanded, the work consisted of picking a lot of 45lb boxes onto pallets, it was 8.5 hours of constant lifting, walking and pulling the orders around the warehouse, the work was really hard physically, however foreman was cool, and let us take regular breaks, there were 2 places on site where you could eat and drink the restaurant and the smoking cabin, I didn't smoke but most of the people I had a good rapour with did, so I chose to spend my breaktimes there. It was in this smoke room my life changed forever, so I should tell you I am gay and have been privately comfortable with my sexuality for a longtime, however I chose not broadcast my orientation at work especially in such a blue collar environment where some of guys had made some negative comments. I am 25 years old and carry myself in a masculine manor, and I considered an alpha amongst my friends, family and co-workers, I also have a healthy and varied sex life, I have been blessed with fairly good looks, worked at getting a body that many people admire, and prided myself on being well endowed, measuring 8 inches long with a 6.25 circumference when hard, I have had no shortage of willing bottom guys give up the goods, I tried bottoming a few times but it never really did it for me, and in my many encounters with men none came close to my size or girth, my confidence would sometimes spill into arrogance knowing I am not the tallest guy but most likely the biggest, Until that day a 50 something Musclebear truckdriver walked in. The first thing I noticed was his statue, over 6 feet in height and easily had my 210 beat by 50lbs, he was wearing a standard issue polo shirt all of our drivers wear, he had big vainy forearms his big upper arms filled the sleeves to the limit, his bi's and tri's we very apparent I would guess 20 inches, his chest was huge, besting mine by 10 inches, and there was an abundance of hair peaking around the opening of his collar, he was packing two tremendous thighs fighting for space in his utility trousers, everything about him astounded me, but it was the huge bulge in his pants that got my mind racing, I was truely humbled by this guy, and for the first time in my life I was speechless. Turns out he is based at site and takes the lorries on and off the bays, I didn't have the balls to even speak to him, I just sat there and stole glances at him whilst he spoke to my manager, whilst steeling glances, I started getting aroused. So I made my excuses and left the smokers cabin, went back to work, but was preoccupied with this mature musclebear god in the smoke cabin, time ticked on so it was time to finish work, 5 minutes before we are allowed to use the bathroom to wash ourselves. I proceeded to go to the bathroom, went to the end stall took out my dick which is still a respectable 5.5 inches not aroused, I was midstram pissing and I heard the door go and the truck driver came in stood next to me and proceeded whip out the biggest soft dick I have ever seen, it was soft and matched my size half, he started to let loose powerful stream, he turned me and said "I needed this been waiting for this you ran back inside the warehouse 4 hours ago, gotta let the beast out the cage now and again" I nodded but for some reason couldn't mouth response, He then asked why I am so quiet, and I responded that I was suprsingly humbled and a bit jealous of there being a bigger working here than me, a massive grin spread across face and did a bicep flex with his free arm whilst shaking the piss off his cock with thr other and said "I am bigger than you in all ways Son, I am the big dog alphamale balls of steel master around here" with that he cupped his balls that looked massive and shook his dick at me, I tried not to respond, but he said he clocked me undressing him with my eyes from breaktime, and knows a wannabe top cock sucker when he sees one. With that he zipped up gave my arm a squeeze asked me wear I worked out, I told him Planet fitness, he shook his head and said not anymore, and told me him and a few of his powerlifter friends rent a unit half mile from work and I should train with him from now on in a real mans gym, with that pulled out a card with the gyms phone and placed it in my top pocket, his big hand lingering on my chest, "not bad but I will turn you into a musclegod. "

Sometimes, I Check Out My Son... by vertical A sister piece to the previous son-comes-home-from-college story I wrote a couple years ago. Only this time, the tables are turned! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was going to come out to my son. I practiced the words in my head over and over, my nerves fraying as I recited the speech I was going to give my son when I picked him up at the airport. As a parent, I was about to check off one more item on my list of milestones – getting my boy back after he’d left my nest empty. Last September, I’d managed to cross off the ‘sending your kid to a good college’ one, and unfortunately, the September before that, I’d crossed off ‘saying goodbye to my wife.’ Sure, the milestones weren’t in the ideal order, but it was a lesson I’d often given to my boy: sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you thought it would. Take my personal growth for example. Last September, I’d driven the kid cross-country for his move-in, dragging on the minutes, the seconds, that I got to stay with him. I prolonged every last drop of time that I could feel like 'the dad' for him. I remember puffing up my chest when I would tell him how proud I was of him. How he’d finally be a man. Was I trying to reassure him or myself? I recalled how he smirked and just rolled his eyes, turning his slight body to face the window and peered out into the expanse as we drove – perhaps he knew more than I did. And to think, it’d foreshadow his actual move-in. I did everything I could to delay our inevitable separation. I’d taken the boy out to lunch, halfway across the big city. I ordered more food for him than he could possibly eat. He sat there disgruntled, obviously eager to get to his dorm, and here I was, taking my sweet time to eat over three-quarters of his meal for him. When it came time to finally relinquish stewardship over my son, I could see that look on his face. It had been the same one he’d flashed at me in the car, the half-lidded glare of his eyes as he looked at my corded arms on the steering wheel. It was the same as the one he’d shoot from time to time in the restaurant, watching my thick chest rise and fall as I laboriously ate almost two meals’ worth of food. He’d looked around, seeing all the kids his age, each on the cusp of real adulthood and wonder if they were all thinking the same thing – there was no way this virile specimen of a man could possibly sire such a feeble little boy. “Hey, I heard they’ve got a great gym on campus, Tristan,” I had said, trying to make small talk. I tensed my arms, built over years of going to the gym on and off and long summer days of gardening with, and long winter nights of fucking my late wife. “Get yourself some puppies like these,” I added, bringing a bicep down. There were definitely some college girls checking me out. And I have to say proudly, some of their moms too. My son could only stare at me with daggers. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand attached to a rail-thin arm. “And maybe you’ll find yourself a girlfriend to keep you company while I’m gone.” I was a little taken aback – it seemed we both knew each others’ insecurities in that moment. With a final hug, he bade me farewell. “Don’t miss me too much,” he chuckled. I didn’t listen, for I missed him dearly. We communicated via text, and I was surprised to find out he’d taken to my sagely advice and gotten himself into the gym! When I’d read that, I was in the middle of a rather pathetic wank session and after blasting onto my softened abs, I couldn’t help but smirk. Well, if he was going to take my advice, I might as well take his. I had signed up for a gym myself, eager to get back into the meat-market – it’s rather quite the miracle what losing just 20 pounds and putting on a solid 5 in what was hopefully all muscle, could do. I daresay, it was a bit scandalous, and a whole lot dangerous, but it was a thrill matching up on Tinder with local girls just a couple years older than my son and railing them hard. And it was a whole lot more scandalous and a hell of a lot more dangerous texting my son about it! By Christmas, I was eager for him to come home and see all the progress he’d made. But in the phone call we had, he had stated he was going to spend winter break at the college. I was understandably devastated. Had my boasting gone too far? Or maybe it was because he sounded rather off. I wished him good health, telling him to stay safe and get his throat checked out, he sounded hoarse and that I’d send him a care package with a Christmas gift: a tub of protein powder, a little cheeky nod to him starting out in the gym. Our relationship had changed after that call. His texts were always chipper as usual, but they were more sparse. I often got the same response of ‘doing well,’ ‘in class right now,’ ‘heading off to the gym,’ the usual stop-annoying-me-dad texts. I stopped going on dating apps altogether. While it had been nice to be called a hot ‘silver fox’ that the young ladies liked to bed with, I didn’t want to test the tumultuousness of my relationship with my only kid any more than I had to. I had gotten a couple matches with some ladies-who-lunch, but each one was set in her ways, and so was I. So, I threw myself at the gym more, maybe trying to reinvent myself from a silver fox to a gymrat. It was rather refreshing to take a break from the ladies and focus on myself. I got leaner, a little bit bigger. Heck, I was even tempted to try those hormone replacements like my buddy Randy said were working wonders for him. But I still got lonely. Still thought of getting a booty call from the cute girls I’d picked up over the months. Maybe let them squeal from how much fitter I looked. Let their hands roam over my built chest, feel up the eight pocketed abs of a lean 50-something, let those fingers trace along the vein of an arm that was half an inch larger than it had been when I first picked them up. And I swore, going to the gym worked wonders for my libido, I woke up with a flagpole tenting my sheets each morning. So, I took to porn. What else could I do? The local matrons didn’t satisfy my needs, and the lasses were off limits. And I had to face it, with all the gyming I’ve been doing, my callused hands provided way more pressure than any gal’s nethers ever could. Just the sight of a cute girl getting railed by a bodybuilt man was good enough for me, the only digits this old man-cum-gymrat needed were his own. It was then I realized that my eyes were drifting over to the men more and more. I would scrutinize the young bucks, the way their arms tensed with each thrust, their deep grunts overpowering the dainty cries of the girl they were on top of. One day, I promised I’d just try it. Just a little peek and then I’d close my laptop. I promised myself. I loaded up some good ol’ gay porn and immediately got the hardest erection I’ve had in years. My laptop rocked back and forth, balanced precariously on the shelf of my pecs as I double fisted my large meat, groaning as I watched two meatheads going at it. I don’t think I’ve ever roared so loudly when I climaxed as I did then and when I finally did close my laptop, after 5 minutes of basking in a mind-numbing afterglow, the lid of my laptop was sprayed with my seed. Five minutes later and I had my laptop open and was jerking it to a pair of even larger men going it! I was going harder at the gym, spending most of my free time there. By April, I was in the best shape of my life, gaining another 5 pounds and looking more cut than ever. I even sprung a small fortune upgrading the home gym in my basement for those times I’d gotten back from a killer workout and was itching to lift even more. But as big and buff as I was getting, my taste in guys was getting even more ridiculous. Soon I graduated from any other big guy, to watching bodybuilders jerking themselves off, bouncing their pecs. I was so obsessed with muscles, on other guys as much as myself. I was working out 6 times a week, not counting the late-night sessions I did when I couldn’t sleep, too busy jerking off like a horny teenager over powerbloated massfreaks that occupied my every waking thought. Hell, my best buddy, Randy, had gone through an ugly, messy divorce in mid-February. Instead of supporting him, I was too busy jerking off to a horse-dicked muscle monster’s blog I had just discovered; the guy even had the most convincing muscle growth video I’d ever seen that hit all my buttons. Watching a man grow like that brought so many new feelings in me. Feelings that I had to explore. I knew it was too good to be true. That something like that was nothing more than a fantasy. But these feelings were ones I had to get off my chest to my son. Oh geez. My son. I whipped my head to look at the clock on the oven in the kitchen. “Shit,” I exclaimed, grabbing my keys. I was late for picking him up at the airport, I should’ve left half an hour ago. I ran out of the house, doubling back to make sure I had locked the door. In my rush, I realized all too late that my phone was dead. I wouldn’t be able to call my son. God, what if he was lost? A little guy like that, all alone in the airport?! I was like lightning as I ran into arrivals at the airport terminal, my heavy pecs bouncing like thunder, tugging on my chest with every bound I took. I must’ve looked like a maniac and being larger than most people, I would normally revel in the way people parted for me. But that hadn’t even entered my mind as I tried my hardest to scan the crowds for my son. Even with my vantage point of being at least half a head taller than most people on the floor, I couldn’t locate him, as hard as I tried, scouring the waiting areas row by row. Panting heavily, I resigned myself to my fate and sat down in the waiting area. I groaned and buried my head in my hands. Oh god, my little boy was out there. My best hope was that he had taken a cab home. I lean back in my seat and groaned. It was then that I saw it. At the far end of the waiting area I saw a charging station. Breathing a sigh of relief, I made my way over and plugged my phone into an open port. The light on my phone awoke, the picture of a battery charging lit up the once dead screen. Five minutes, that’s all I needed and then my phone should carry enough of a charge for me to call Tristan. I paced back and forth for a moment, trying to coax the minutes to go by faster. It was then that I saw him in the corner of my eye. He was sitting in the corner, eyes glued to his phone. My eyes bugged as my brain took a little longer to comprehend the sight I was seeing. Before me was the largest man I’d even laid my eyes on. The seats were arranged in groupings of three. Seated, he took up one and a half of them and spread eagle, he took up all 3. His shorts looked woefully equipped to hold in those huge, beefy and hairy thighs. Even relaxed, I could make out the striations that separated the quads from the sartorius. The band of khaki shorts was distended by a bulge straight out of those websites I’d been visiting. I knew it couldn’t be real, and yet there it was, a dense mass of pubic forest poking through the band of humongous man’s shorts, pushed down by a massive abgut encased in a woefully ill-fitted black t-shirt. The harsh lights from above illuminated the cuts in the brutally thick man’s distended musclegut even through the fabric. A massive cliff of heavy pecs cast a dark shadow over it, a large protrusion on each on pointing out, so large that I could scarcely believe that those were the man’s nipples. His shoulders and traps swells so far out that the hem of the neck of his t-shirt would be permanently warped. Those cannonballs he called delts were so large, so perfectly muscular, I could make out the striations on the lateral head through the damned shirt. And that wasn’t even getting to the brute’s arms. Biceps and triceps that looked twice the size of my head, easily dwarfing my entire torso. The veins that ran down his bis were as thick as Sharpie marker and so prominent they gave the illusion that the long and short heads of the muscle were separated even at rest. Hell, even his forearms made my whole arm look anemic! His neck was bullishly thick and framed by traps that would make said bulls flush with envy. He was staring down at his phone, the artificial light bouncing off his dense facial scruff, his beard in thick and full. The light cascaded off his contours, strong, masculine features in stark relief – strong jaw and even stronger brows; young but not juvenile, just the way I liked ‘em. Fuck, I took one last look down back at that crotch, and yep: still as big as ever. God, how I wanted to get bent over by that huge freak and plowed— I must’ve been fantasizing and staring because it took me a moment to realize that a lady sitting nearby was glaring at me... and the protuberance in my pants. I whimpered and adjusted it, waving at her in apology, only garnering a stink-eye from her before she buried herself in her newspaper. I regained my composure and grabbed my phone from the charging station. I had just enough power to turn my device on. I crept closer to the hulk-sized man, admiring the way he filled his shirt and shorts to the brim, discovering new details, like how what I had once thought to be a fold in the fabric was actual a thick vein that ran across his deltoid to his chest. As my phone came to life and chimed a tone, I glanced over, a little hopeful that he’d notice me. I don’t know why, but a guy like that, even just the acknowledgement that I even existed in the same world as him would just have given me the greatest thrill. However much I wanted that, it didn’t seem to work. I strategically placed myself a few seats over in the row opposite to him. My hope now was that he’d hear me conversing with my son over the phone and look up. I wished myself luck as I pressed the call button and the dial tone started. My heart skipped a beat, eager to hear the voice of my boy, Tristan. And more coyly, I was hoping that the titanic bodybuilder sitting across from me would look up. Gosh, I hope a loving dad was just his type. As the call went through, I hear that the big guy across the aisle’s phone was buzzing. His face lit up, a genuinely happy grin crossing his bearded face. Anticipation crept up on me and yet I still was prepared. “Dad?” The voice called over the phone. And from the man sitting across from me. Both were so deep; the one over the phone vibrated the device in my hand, the one coming from the man physically in front of me rattled my bones. My jaw slackened as the two versions of the voice crept into my ears. The voice over the phone was shifted just a split second behind the one in real life, but hearing his voice twice, the impact of the situation had twinned its effect on me. “Tristan?!” I yelped. The titanic freak, my son, finally looked up, his head going higher and higher, and I couldn’t tell which side of 7’ he sided on. The stunned look on my face was mirrored in his before he hung up and a big smile spread along his handsome visage. The beast of a boy, no, a man, stood and towered above me, his presence looming over me even before he drew near. “Dad,” he chuckled, his voice still shocking me with its depth. “It’s so good to see you!” I stood up, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the chubby in my slacks that I had pushed down one leg of my pants. I had thought that I had made an impressive print in them, my pride clearly on display for all the smaller guys to gawk at. But even hard, I was ashamed that not only was it significantly smaller than what lay in my son’s basket, but that he wasn’t even close to being as aroused as I was. I don’t think I needed to worry. He brought me in for a hug, his immensely powerful arms wrapping around my body. I only came up to his collarbone, and my face was stuffed into those humongous pecs of his. I could feel the coarse hairs on his chest through the shirt, scratching against my face as he took in breath. God, even his heartbeat was strong. My hands found purchase along his waist, my spine curve around his bulk, his giant musclegut pushing insistently into my own abdomen, his offseason mass dominating the space. And that bulge. I couldn’t tell if he knew I was hard, because even soft, the firmness of whatever was in his crotch completely pushed what little pride I had left out of the way. And what little pride I had was shattered when he lifted me clear off the ground. I yelped a little when I felt that massive bulge of his wedge its way between my legs, supporting me in his arms. I held my breath as his Herculean grip crushed at my gym-built torso and I swore I heard a rib crack underneath the immense pressure from his hug. The handsome beast that had blossomed from my once-fragile son noticed how red my face was getting and let go. I stumbled back, coughing slightly as my feet touched the ground. “Sorry, dad,” he chuckled, a bit of a blush creeping in on his cheeks. He brought an arm back to rub at his neck and by God, the thickness of that arm in action! I couldn’t help but turn away, the sight of those biceps crashing into his forearm as they fought for space. His shoulders and chest were equal in their greed, swallowing up so much fabric that his shirt rode up, exposing more of that expansive musclegut of his. “Whew, I guess that protein powder I sent you did its work,” I chortled as I tried to compose myself, hoping that the redness from nearly having all the air squeezed out of me would mask the embarrassment and even worse, my unbridled lust after my own son. God, the very creature I had created, brought into this world, and I couldn’t stop thinking of his body, how I wanted it to be mine, in more ways than one. “Ha!” Tristan boomed, the air growing silent as heads all around the terminal turned to look at a beast of a man pushing 7’, his very presence demanding their attention. “It barely lasted me a couple days back then. Now it’ll last me a couple hours, dad.” The young giant idly rubbed at his muscle-bloated offseason stomach, a low thud echoing in the tense air as he gave it a firm slap. “You made some damned good progress these past months, but uh, as you can see... I’m not the skinny kid you sent off to college anymore, old man.” “Jeez, I’ll say,” I coughed as he took his luggage in tow; surprisingly it was just one bag, I’d later find out that he’d shredded through the rest of his garments, all of them too tight on his growing frame. I looked down, swearing that I saw him wink at me. I wasn’t paying much attention to him. Actually, I was trying my hardest to avoid looking and thinking about him, lest this half chub in my crotch got any harder. But as we made our way to the exit, I heard a low, thunderous gurgling coming from behind me. “Aw man, speaking of protein shakes, mind we stop by the juice bar before we go? Between the flight and waiting for you to come pick me up, I’m starving,” Tristan grunted. It wasn’t like he needed my permission. The huge teen passed his luggage off to me and sauntered off towards a stall. The look on the cashier’s face was a mix of that usual apathy afforded by service workers and the terror of realizing that the huge man, around 7’ tall and only God knows how many pounds heavy, was real and not a figment of her imagination. My son ordered two shakes, each at the largest size and added so many scoops of protein to each that the worker just eyed him. “You do realize it’s going to be more like a paste than a shake at that point, sir,” she had warned. “Yeah, that’s how I take it,” he chuckled with a shrug before paying for his ‘beverages.’ He sauntered back to me, two enormous cups in tow. Holding them up, I could see just how insanely built his arms were, those biceps tensed, those forearms gnarled with veins, feeding the expanse of muscle underneath them. By the time we had made it halfway to the exit, my son tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see that had begun to chug one of the shakes and was trying to hand the other off to me. I stood there wordless as I gawked at my huge son, the shake he handed to me taking both of my hands up. He crushed the base of the cup he was still holding onto and he flattened the rest of cup, squeezing its contents into his mouth. The worker at the juice bar wasn’t kidding. That wasn’t a shake at all. It squeezed out of the cup like toothpaste, vaguely pink and the huge beast couldn’t get enough of it. Barely finished one, he tossed it into the nearby garbage before unceremoniously taking the one in my hands and began to do the same with the other one, not even stopping to make a comment. I watched in fascination as Tristan’s chest mashed into his chin with each gulp, the sound of him swallowing low and reverberating. Fuck, I could’ve sworn I saw his dick jolt in its basket when he finally managed to get the last of it all down, the beast letting loose a satisfied sigh. He wiped off the excess in his beard and hungrily lapped what he had managed to catch in his fingers up. “Hit the spot,” Tristan grunted, patting his musclegut once more, the low boom sounded solid, the flesh almost immovable. “Will probably last me a couple hours,” he said with a grin. Gods, this was the boy who could barely eat a quarter of his plate at a restaurant 8 months prior. Just what had happened to him?! As if to answer my question, he gave that gut of his a good rub. “Gotta hand it to ya, dad. You were right about the gym. Once I stepped in there and lifted my first dumbbell, it was like something was unleashed in me. You always talked about getting a pump and oh man, I think I know what you meant!” He raised an arm up and the seam along the shirt began to fray. “It was like all I could do was get bigger and bigger.” He did the same to the other arm, the seam faring just as well as its sister. When he got to my car, he was huffing to himself, almost in a trance. He was bouncing his titanic pecs, testing if he’d be able to rip the seams along the shoulders as well. He caught me looking and he relaxed. “Sorry, dad, I get a little carried away sometimes,” he mumbled, looking a little embarrassed. As he opened the passenger side door he chuckled and shook his head. “Been a while since I’ve been in your car, pops. I think I’ll need to sit in the back.” He closed the door and opened the one behind it. But, before going in, he paused, “Ah, I forgot, in your text you said you wanted to tell me something important?” He laughed, “Lemme guess, you’re porking one of the girls I had a crush on in high school. Ah, c’mon, you can tell me! Fuck, dad, that’d make me so proud. My pops gets a rockin’ hot bod and now he’s banging college chicks!” I gulped. I had completely forgotten about coming out to Tristan. I briefly tried to remember all the talking points I had laid out. But everything, even my best laid plans, were forfeit to the thoughts of worshiping this great beast of muscle. I for one, was glad he would be sitting behind me, because I was going to be sporting this erection all the way home. “Ahem, yes. I’ll tell you all about on the way back,” I coughed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hope the dad can come out... and the son can get in that car...

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This is my first story. It's going to have bite sized chapters and very regular updates (most likely daily). This is a m/m superhero romance. The first two chapters are mostly set up, but after that every chapter has plenty of sexy muscle and feats of strength, so please stick with it! Chapter 1 It began as all the best love stories do: with terrorism. The 24th of March 2013 is much like any other day. Hugo Chavez recently died, triggering what would go on to become an economic crisis in Venezuela, the UN security council has just slammed North Korea with harsh new sanctions, Justin Timberlake is topping the charts with ‘Mirrors’, protestors are waving signs outside Parliament, protesting about something, pigeons are shitting, rain is pouring, and I'm on my way to work. The newly opened Shard is difficult to miss. It towers over London’s skyline, jutting into the clouds like the lair of a comic book villain. I make my way inside, flashing my ID as I go. ‘Jake Langley’, it says in large capital letters, along with an employee number and my date of birth. I only show it as a courtesy - the security guards have all memorised my face by now. I sometimes wonder what they think of me. Am I ‘that cute, fresh faced little pastry chef with the dimples’ or do they just see me as a child straight out of college, coasting by on boyish looks, with no clue what he’s doing? I’d like to think it was the former. I’d like to. But I don’t. I wish I was the kind of guy who had the guts to ask. The kind who knows he's good enough, who knows he's not going to be rejected or shut down. But even if I wasn't gay, I will never be that kind of guy. It's not in my nature. I'm not assertive or domineering. I smile, wave, and make pastry. That's my nature. I slip by in this hyper masculine world by being too small for anyone to see as a threat. And for the most part, it works. The kitchens still shine like the day they were installed, which wasn't that long ago. Most kitchens are crowded, starkly lit places where you can barely move an inch without bumping into someone or knocking something over, but not this one. Natural light pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, treating us to a view of London that millions of people would kill for. But I'm not here for the views. Okay, maybe a little bit. But mostly, I'm here to do my job. I find my little corner and start preparing for the day’s guests. It's a Sunday, so we're expecting a lot of traffic. There isn’t an overpaid banker in London who doesn’t salivate over the idea of lunch at the Shard. Russian oligarchs, Saudi oil barons, British royalty, Colombian drug lords - we serve them all. I don’t care who they are or what they do. It's none of my business. It sounds like a simple, boring job - making pastry. You’d be surprised at how much there is to it. There’s a reason they have pastry chefs – this is a difficult thing to get right. It's always come easily to me. I find something calming about rolling out a sheet of puff, spreading on the butter, folding it over, and rolling it out again. There's a rhythm to it. My movements soon become mechanical and I can feel myself floating away into a distant world where I'm someone interesting, somewhere interesting, doing something interesting. The kitchen hums around me as the first orders come in. Pans clink, hobs fizzle, water gurgles as it boils. I can barely hear the orders being barked over it all. But I'm not really paying attention. Boom. I can feel a wave of pressure pass through my feet, up to my head, and down again. Everything is shaking; the walls, the floor, the windows. Pots rattle above my head on their hooks. I turn to see the kitchen staff frozen, eyeing one another with pointed glares. I don't think I've ever seen this room so quiet. “What was that?” I hear one of them whisper, his voice carrying clear across the room. No one answers. Was it an earthquake? It couldn’t be. Earthquakes aren’t instantaneous, they're gradual. Then it comes again, much louder. BOOM. I don’t know if it's the ringing in my ears or the shaking beneath my feat, but I'm suddenly hunched over a table, flour covering my hands, gasping for breath. I don't know how long I spend there, trying to comprehend what's going on. It must be a minute or two, at least. My daze is broken as an alarm whirrs into life, high pitched and screaming. Red lights flash. All at once, the shock turns to chaos. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. They're coming faster now, from all over the building. I can feel them in my bones. While others run for the doors, I huddled under my table. What the hell is going on? My eyes drift to the windows, where black smoke is billowing up past our floor, carrying dust and paper. Fuck. I watched 9/11 unfold on live TV and I was here when they locked down London during the 7/7 attacks. It's impossible to ignore the reality of what's going on. This is a terrorist attack. I can see dark shapes floating past outside, just beyond the smoke. Choppers. News choppers. When I had dreamed of appearing on TV, I was thinking more along the lines of Deal or No Deal, not this. Anything but this. I'm now alone in the kitchen. I don't know when that happened. I presume everyone else has fled. My gaze flickers to the open door as I try to decide what to do. Maybe if I run now, I could get out before the building collapses. Or maybe the lower floors are experiencing the worst of it, and I'm best waiting up here while the blaze is brought under control. Is there anything here I could turn into a parachute? No, I scold myself. That’s pointless and stupid. I’d never break through those windows anyway. Turning on my phone, I check the BBC. The first result is a live video of the Shard, burning in a dozen places. The news anchors are speaking but I can’t hear a word of it. I watch the screen in horror as the fire begins to creep outward from the explosion sites. One of them is pretty close to this kitchen. Placing my hands on the ground, I feel warmth. There’s a rumbling sensation. Something is crackling not far from our door. As fast as I can, I slam it shut, backing away with a hiss as the handle burns my skin, leaving it red and blotchy. Now there’s smoke trickling in through the vents and the air is getting hazy. Pulling a wet cloth over my mouth, I run around the kitchen and turn on all the taps and block all the drains. They overflow one by one, spilling out onto the floor until there’s a pool of water an inch deep. This won’t save me, but it might slow the spread. It’s getting seriously hot in here. I clutch my burned hands around the wet cloth, which eases the pain, but nothing can stop the coughing fits. There’s soot clogging my lungs and in my eyes, causing them to water uncontrollably. The air is so thick now that I can barely see from one end of the room to the other. My only sign that the door has buckled is the red tongues of flame licking at the ceiling. At the same time, I’m hit by a wave of heat so overwhelming that my only option is to curl up on the floor and cover my face as I feel the skin of my back start to blister. Then something astonishing happens. Something so unusual that I wonder if I’m hallucinating. There's a silhouette visible through the smoke. A man. He's enormous, and seems completely unphased by the fire caressing every inch of his body. His eyes find me on the floor, and a look of relief flits across his face. I blink, and he’s suddenly leaning over me. How did he move so fast? I open my mouth to ask, but only a ragged cough comes out. Two huge arms gently scoop me up. I press my face into his chest to escape the heat. Somehow even in the middle of a burning skyscraper, his touch makes me feel safe. Protected. Isn’t that strange? I hear the sound of shattering glass, feel a rush of cold air on my neck. The arms wrap more tightly around me. The lurching in my stomach tells me we’re moving, and I try to look around, but one hand on the back of my head keeps me locked to his chest. As the adrenaline fades, my body starts to scream in pain. I’ve never felt such agony. It’s only a matter of time before blackness is creeping into my vision, clouding my mind. And then I’m gone.

Here''s another older story of mine. Definitely violent so if that's not your thing or a turn off then don't bother. Since muscles are synonymous with strength I think some degree of violence is always or at least very often a given. We could break down the psychology of that, but fuck that, I don't actually care why it's a turn on for me... just is. Killer Looks “It’s cash up front. Leave the money here,” the huge former pro wrestler now turned hustler said, gesturing to the entry table. “Like I said in my text, I don’t usually do guys, but I make the occasional exception. Fee is double though.” “Yes, you were quite clear about that.” The silver haired, partially balding man answered back, pulling a thick envelope from the breast pocket of his suit and placing it on the marble tabletop. “$2800, for two hours. It’s all here. Feel free to count it.” “No, you look like the honest type,” the big guy said while still picking up the envelope and peering inside, flicking through the pile of hundred dollar bills. “You can look, and touch, blow me if you want, and maybe I’ll fuck you, but that’s it. Nothing else.” “How kind.” The faintest trace of sarcasm accompanied the old man’s reply. “So I take it you know who I am, or was… I guess I’m retired from the wrestling game now. But I do keep the body in shape. That’s what I was known for. And of course I’m sure that’s what you’re paying for?” “Among other things, yes.” “Like I said, only the things I say gramps. We clear on that.” “Oh absolutely.” “Fine.” The Buff guy turned from the apartments entryway and sauntered into his expansive and sunny Miami high rise living room. The end wall a panorama of glass and ocean view. He let his lats flare out as he walked into the room, knowing it’s what his client wanted, the display of his body his former wrestling trade mark. He bent both arms up into a back double biceps pose knowing the clock had started. His neon blue t shirt stretched tight across his big back and the sleeves straining against the bent up arms, each boulder of split peak as impressive as ever. “I see you’ve kept yourself in fighting shape.” The old man smiled, a lascivious grin spread across his face. “Damn right I do. This body made me a rich man, opened doors for me. I’m not about to neglect it.” He turned and smiled at his customer. “You wanna see it, don’t you pops?” “Indeed.” Buff guy smiled like the whore he was and shucked off the t-shirt and flung it to the ground as he tightened and rippled his bared upper torso. Still proud of his physique, and the 248 pounds of bulk he carried on his 6’ 2” frame. Not quite the perfect body of ten years ago, when he was in his prime, but still a magnificent specimen, hard, reasonably toned and massive. He started putting on a show, displaying his bare torso in all the standard bodybuilder poses. The bright sunlight washing across his tanned mass. “You wanna oil me up?” “No, thank you. I think we might just be breaking a sweat shortly and I can see your muscles glistening to perfection then.” Buff guy frowned a bit, wondering exactly what he was going to be asked to do, but he continued to run through his poses. He unzipped his tight jeans and started working them down over his enormous quads, shaking them out once free of the denim and offering the sight of them up to the old man like two prized additions to his perfection. “Oh my my, those are very impressive. I do so hate a man that ignores his leg development.” “Uh, yeah. I always worked them hard.” Buff guy stated, still flexing the big thighs. “When you gotta press some 300 pounder over your head you need big wheels. Lift with your legs man.” “Very true, very true. I couldn’t agree more,” the old man seemed to smirk again as he answered. “Maybe you wanna watch a little home workout?” Buff guy asked smiling enticingly, preferring showing off while he lifted to anything sexual with this old coot. “Why yes, that would be most enjoyable.” Buff guy nodded his head towards the connecting room and walked into a bedroom converted to home gym. A wall of mirrors reflected the equally sunny space and glistened off the chrome weights and black vinyl benches and pads. He pulled off his skimpy briefs and let his nicely sized dick swing free, adding to the show his customer paid for. “Oh very nice package indeed. I had hoped your steroid use hadn’t shrunk that away to nothing.” “Who said I’ve used steroids?” The silver haired man just gave him an ‘oh pleeze’ reality check look, and Buff guy nodded, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah so maybe roids have helped me do this…” he said scooping two ninety pounders off the rack and pumping out some alternating dumbbell curls, “but everyone seems to like the results. Don’t they?” He asked while looking down at his large veiny biceps swelling and bulging with each rep. “Certainly no one would argue that. Least of all me.” Buff guy watched himself and the visitor as he did a couple sets, flexing and rubbing his own arms provocatively on each short break. “I imagine those feel quite as impressive as they look.” Buff guy bent an arm into a right angle and swung it forward for the old man to feel, who did so immediately, his grip quite powerful on the hardened muscle. Buff guy noticed this and clearly looked surprised. “Mind if I join you?,” he asked unexpectedly, and Buff guy paused in surprise. “Huh?” “Can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” the silver daddy stated as he hands went up to his collar and started loosening the tie around his neck, pulling it off quickly and unbuttoning his shirtfront. He stared at Buff guy’s face as his shirt began to open up and his flawlessly rounded smooth shaven chest and deeply chiseled 10 pack were revealed. He shucked off the shirt and suit jacket together and unveiled an upper body of such indescribable physical perfection that Buff guy’s mouth dropped open in complete and utter awe. “Fuck yeah,” the old man moaned with pleasure at the sight of his own uncovered beauty. “I try to keep the old bones in shape,” he began stroking his hands across his own large, striated chest and down his cobbled abs, so deeply etched the shadows between each individual muscle created a dark outline highlighting the incredible definition. “I like to keep my body fat around 4%, but sometimes I think I loose track of it and just don’t have any to speak of. Shredded and ripped up like a twenty year old seems to suit me, don’t you think Pudgy?” Buff guy looked up at that, tearing his eyes off the youthful body of perfection and appraising his expression. “You calling me fat?” “No never,” the silver daddy continued while unzipping his pants and kicking them away, shucking off the shoes and underwear immediately after. “I just think next to me you do have a bit of surplus fatty tissue.” As if to emphasize his point he turned and flexed his bared rounded ass, the striations rippling across it defied belief. “Excuse me Chunk-o,” he chuckled a bit as he brushed past Buff guy and reached for the heaviest dumbbells on the rack. The 150’s weren’t often used for anything but presses and the old guy smiled at his own reflection as he started curling them like they weighed nothing. “How the fuck can a guy your age have a body like that!” Buff guy stood with hands on his hips, staring into the mirror at the naked man next to him swinging up the massive weight effortlessly. His eyes drifted down to the thick twelve inch pole between his legs, an appendage clearly twice as big as his own. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucking impressive too, isn’t it. No ones ever gonna call you a pencil dick, but next to me… well.” “I just can’t believe…” Buff guy stammered, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. “I mean holy fuck, who’d have thought you had a body like that under the suit. An old guy like you. It’s fucking…” “Unbelievable. Yes, I know. I get that all the time. Hardly a new reaction, trust me.” A light sheen of sweat was starting to glisten all over the hills and valleys of muscle covering every inch of the old man’s exposed body. “I’m rather proud of the fact I keep myself in semi decent shape.” A grin crossed his face. “Oh who am I kidding, false modesty doesn’t suit me at all. I’m quite proud of this shell I occupy. The body is a temple, I know you agree with that. Some of us have humble churches, others cathedrals.” He was finished with the weights and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor then stared at himself, admiring his own arms as they began to show their pump. “Christ, I got neighbors, you can set those down you know.” “These floors are poured concrete, they can’t hear a thing.” The old man lunged suddenly at Buff guy and pulled him into a head lock. He tightened his grip like a vice and squeezed the thick column of neck like it was a rag doll, twisting and pulling the big 250 pounder off balance. Taking him off his feet, the old man held him in the headlock for a few long moments, savoring the feel of complete dominance he felt over the former pro wrestler, then he released him with a chuckle and slap on the back. “I don’ think that was on your list of things we couldn’t do together?” the old guy chuckled looking at the red marks around Buff guys neck. “What the fuck pops!” Buff guy was pissed. “You don’t wanna play at wrestling with me! I will fucking snap you like a twig.” “Oh that would be fun, wouldn’t it. Would you like to try?” “Listen, you didn’t pay me for a wrestling match.” “Oh, pity. I thought you might actually be good at it. I have such trouble finding decent matches.” Without pausing he reached out quickly and open handedly smacked Buff guy across the face. Anger flared up, but he tried to contain it. “We ain’t playin’ this…” whack. Another slap backhanded him. “Oh the fuck we ain’t.” Buff guy yelled and sprang at the old man, who completely ready for the charge gripped him in a bear hug and swung his body forward past him and threw him into the mirrored wall. The glass shattered dramatically and the big wrestler slid down the wall onto the weight rack. He pulled himself back up, shucking off glass shards and looked at the old guy in disbelief. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, you old pussy.” “That’s the spirit,” he heard answered back before a pair of iron like fingers grabbed him and pulled him up and away from the wall, into the air and flying across the room. The big former wrestler skidded across the last ten feet of the room. “Oh, that’s going to be a hell of a rug burn, isn’t it Porky?” Buff guy got up red faced and seething and charged back across the room, slamming into the silver haired geezer and clotheslining him to the floor. He hammered down on the hard prone body with his forearms, smashing them down repeatedly against his chest trying to force the air out of his lungs. He escalated the punishment quickly and kneed the ribcage a couple times, knowing what that did to incapacitate an opponent. For good measure he put a choke hold on the old man and took his anger out on the neck cradled in his big arms, as he choked the windpipe, waiting for the guy to pass out. When it seemed he finally had and the old man’s eyes were closed, Buff guy finally let go, spit on the prone man’s chest and then sat back on his ass staring at the incredible chiseled physique lying still before him and wondering how this appointment had turned into this bizarre encounter. He was startled when the old guy quietly said in a very normal voice, “Well that was fun.” He sat up and turned to the whore, wiping the spit off his thick pecs. “You really do hit like a girl.” He stood up and put his hands on his hips, facing the wrestler who rose up off the floor. “Why don’t you give me your best shot. Free target, give it your all pussyboy.” He pointed to his own chin, and his washboard stomach. “Your choice.” Buff guy hesitated a second, but then said, ‘fuck it’ and drew back his fist and connected with a vicious right cross to the old guy’s face. His head whipped around but then snapped right back and smiled at him. “Oh princess, that was sweet. Try a little harder.” Buff guy rapid fired punches into the granite stomach like he was working a body bag and went unblocked for a good minute and a half before he started tiring out, his fists aching from the hardened muscle he was pounding. “You’ll probably have to ice those later,” silver daddy chuckled, “if you can.” He said as an after thought, then added. “My turn!” His first punch completely doubled over the big wrestler who dropped to his knees, and then vomited up his lunch. “This isn’t going to be much of a challenge at all, now is it? How very disappointing.” The muscle daddy turned to face the mirror as he spoke. “I always think I’ve found someone who’s going to surprise me, to give me a bit of a run for my money… and for $2800 you think you’d be a better run. I suppose pro wrestling really is just all for show now isn’t it. I should have known that.” He started stroking his own beautiful physique lovingly as he spoke, “But you see, I’m the real thing. I’ve worked rather hard to achieve all of this. Thousands of inverted sit ups each and every day, weight training for power and beauty, eating properly of course, isometric training, kickboxing, tae kwan doe, flexibility work, endurance, everything necessary to achieve physical perfection. And just look at me my dear boy, you have to admit, I am quite perfect. Granted, the passing of time has taken it’s toll on my face, there’s nothing much I can do about that, but my body, oh that’s another story for sure. I easily have the physical stamina of a young olympian, and the skills beyond even that. I’m afraid though our little arrangement here is going to have to be adjusted. I don’t care to be fucked, thank you all the same, but I do fully intend to enjoy that fat ass of yours. And please, do try to put up a bit of a struggle, it makes it so much more fun for me.” The silver muscle daddy walked over to the weight bench, loaded with the Buff guy’s last heavy benching weight, 345 pounds. He stood behind the bar and scooped it off the rack and pressed it up to his chest, with one easy huff of air he hoisted it over his head and did a few standing military presses, his shoulders exploding with the massive pump he was giving them, then he brought the weight down and like before curled it slowly, watching the girth of his shredded arms easily gliding the ridiculous weight up and down as the veins bulged from under his taut skin. The daddy’s big dick grew hard while he pumped the weight, and the Buff guy started to panic, knowing what was shortly in store for him. “It’ won’t hurt.” Muscle daddy slammed the weight onto the rack and did a most muscular pose as he growled, “Much.” Buff guy panicked, seeing the old dude pumped up and playing with weights that he knew no normal man could handle with such apparent ease. It must be some freakish adrenaline rush, turning the old geez into a fucking superman. Buff guy turned and ran for the other room, hoping to get out of the apartment before this man could act on his last words. He realized all too quickly that pops was as fast as he claimed, and he’d sprung at him as he made his dash and felt the vice like grip of the man’s two hands grab him by the traps and squeeze. The crushing grip stopped Buff guy dead and slowly he dropped to his knees from the incredible seering pain. “Isn’t there some stupid wrestling name for this? Cobra clutch, or death grip or something equally asinine.” Buff guy’s wince of pain soon turned to screams as he fought and clawed against the two arms gripping him from behind. “Oh this is fun, you’re like a little girl.” The grip suddenly let go and Buff guy felt a bare foot push down on the small of his back, causing him to face dive onto the floor. Before he’d even caught his breath he felt himself being picked up, scooped from the ground like he weighed nothing and then suddenly tossed across the long living room, his body sailing twenty five feet and landing hard. “Too bad your floors don’t have all that bounce of the ring. Cause I’m sure that had to hurt a bit.” The silver daddy sauntered across the room slowly, passing another mirror in the living room and smiling at his own reflection, flexing his arms a bit and bouncing his chest. “God damn just look at me. I really am the ideal specimen of a man, don’t you think so darling?” He knelt down beside the big guy on the floor and tenderly stroked a hand across the wide back. Looking down at the pool of blood under the Buff guy’s face, draining from the clearly broken nose that had crushed on impact. “Oh my precious boy, that had to have hurt. And you’re pretty face, such a shame. But I always think a broken nose makes a man look so much more masculine. Don’t you agree.” “You insane piece of shit, I’m going to have you thrown in jail.” “Oh now that’s a thought isn’t it, jail can be such a lot of fun. Think of all the men there for me to dominate. I love making big guy’s my bitch… but then, I think you’ve already figured that out now, haven’t you?” “You touch me and I’ll…” “You are funny sunshine, you’ll do what exactly?” Buff guy started to pull himself up from the floor, but had only gotten into a push up like position, his arms lifting his torso from the floor, when the old guy snatched the wrist nearest him and pulled hard and fast, flipping the big guy over onto his back while he once again applied incredible pressure to the joint he held so firmly. With his other hand he reached out and took the index finger of the hand he held immobile and then smiled directly into the sweating man’s frightened face as the realization of what he was about to do hit him. “I don’t like threats.” And he broke the finger like a pretzel stick. Buff guy screamed in agony. “Now see what you made me do. All I wanted was to play nice.” The old man chuckled, “Well that’s not entirely true, I admit. After all you are a whore. And whore’s are paid to be fucked, now aren’t they.” He reached down and started stroking his big cock, taking it from half hard to fully ready in a few moments. “I believe this was your lube of choice?” he asked as he spit onto his dick and mounted the wrestler in a quick and brutal thrust. “Well we knew that was going to be tight, didn’t we?” The Buff guy felt another round of unbelievable pain as the thick cock pounded his virgin ass. To his astonishment he felt himself being picked up from the ground, the old man had taken him in his arms and lifted his 248 pounds into the air while the big dick remained driven deep into his ass. “Oh fuck yes,” the old man groaned as he effortlessly pumped the huge man up and down on his swollen cock, holding him like some 90 pound twink and giving him a ride that defied belief. “Time to blow my load in your hole you hot little fuck toy. Daddy’s coming.” Even through the pain the buff guy felt the hot stream of jizz fill his ass, then a second, and third wave of cum followed the first. “Fucking christ almighty, now that felt good.” The old man pulled his half hard cock out and unceremoniously let the big guy drop flat on his back to the ground. “Shit, that was what I needed. Fuck yes.” He looked down at the big muscleman on the floor writhing in pain and gave him a “tsk, tsk” sound. “You didn’t enjoy that? What a shame. But then, I’m not done yet. Maybe you need to see how a real man fuck’s a whore.” He reached down to his own dick and stroked himself a few times, and the Buff guy’s eyes widened in total fear and amazement as he saw the old man getting hard again instantly. “How the fuck…” he muttered. “I know, I do have rather remarkable stamina.” He reached down and put his hands on both sides of the wrestlers face, then pulled him up from his back onto his knees, and said very calmly, “Your going to suck me off now like a good little whore, and if your teeth even so much as nick my beautiful big cock I’m going to break your neck, and as I recall, you already had that happen to you, now didn’t you? That couldn’t have been too pleasant. All that pain, the recovery time, never feeling quite the same. I think you know just how easily I could crack those vertebrae, so let’s be very careful and suck me off like a good little boy. We clear?” Buff guy just nodded and took the dick in his mouth, instantly choking as the dominant stud pulled him deeply onto his shaft. He didn’t have to suffer long, as within a minute or two he felt the hot pulse of cum hitting the back of his throat and making him gag. The old man pulled off and just smiled, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it.” The big guy rolled onto his back and groaned, in so much pain, his nose pounding, his finger throbbing, his ass and jaw aching… “Please just go” he thought to himself but didn’t dare say out loud. “You do like these big mirrors everywhere, don’t you? You must miss the limelight, the adoring fans, the people fawning over your body.” the old guy was studying himself and his own beautiful physique as he spoke. Flexing again for just himself, he admired and preened over his perfect body. And then, defying all belief, his cock started growing hard again. “I know, just look at that. I am insatiable.” He stroked his own big cock but completely focused on just his reflection, he ignored the big man on the floor completely as he pleasured himself and quickly came to near climax again. He turned at the last moment so that his spray of man seed shot across the five feet and splattered over the buff guy. He screamed as he came, “I am a true muscle god!”

[Hey guys, hope you like this weird one-shot] Wad Dude, I gotta tell you this crazy story. I was stoned out of my mind at this boring-ass house party. You should’ve seen the fat blunt I blazed before I got there and then as soon as I arrived I dropped some primo acid in the bathroom. The dudes at the party were all nerds with a capital NERD and there were barely two semi-hot chicks. I was about to make a move on the seven (and angry about it, a seven? I never usually dip below an eight) when I literally ran into this short dude. I bounced back a step like a rubber ball and peered down at his dumb sticker name tag. You get what I’m saying, dude? Sticker name tags? It was that kind of party. “What kind of a stupid name is Wad?” The dude cocked his head to the side and eyed me silently. “Is it short…” I stopped and giggled. ‘Cause he was short see? He didn’t laugh. “Is it short for something? Like Wade?” I giggled again. Why would you shorten a short name? Oh I get it! Because he’s short! I started laughing and snorting like a hyena. The acid was kicking in something fierce. “No,” he said. His voice was so deep the vibration of that single word made my body tingle. What the fuck? I stopped laughing and just stared at him. I realized that though this dude was short, he was jacked, man. Big boned, broad shouldered, and massively muscled. I took in the size of his pecs, turning my head slowly to the left, then right. Dude, his chest alone was wider than my whole body! His hoodie must have been an XXL or bigger and it was plastered to his skin. “Bro,” I said. “You’re huge!” “Yeah," he said. I poked his right pec with my finger. It felt like Detroit fucking steel. “Man that’s solid. You gotta give me the number of your ‘roid dealer.” He said nothing, just shrugged his melon-sized shoulders. See, what’d I tell you? Nerds! Can’t even have a conversation. Though I’d never seen a nerd as stacked as this dude before. “Great talking to you.” I rolled my eyes. “‘Scuse me tho’, I got bitches to hunt.” I nodded toward the seven, who’s name was Beth, I think? Or Bess? Was Bess a name? I stood in front of the dude pondering this, you know, that way you do when you’re stoned, and he turned to look. “Her?” he said. Something about the way he said it got my ire up. “What? I got game, bro. You think I can’t get into her pussy?” He paused and dead-ass looked me up and down. “I know you will,” he said. I grinned at him. “Four words in a row. Slow down, Wad, you’re freaking me out.” I made to move past him, but he shifted his stance and blocked my path with his brick wall of muscle. “It’s not my name,” he said. “What??” Now this dude was beginning to piss me off. I stepped up and clenched my fists, ready to go toe-to-toe with Mr Shorty, though the acid was making my vision a little blurry. “I said: It’s not my name. It’s what I do.” My hyena laugh came back. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” So guess what, dude? He showed me. *** I stared out at the partiers with the one eye I could still see out of. Most of them seemed to keep doing what they were doing: drinking, talking, flirting. Fewer people than you’d think stopped to watch a dude wad a grown man up into a ball. One skinny guy looked up from his phone: “Damn, bro, you’re strong.” What the fuck, Captain Obvious? “Yeah,” he said. “How much do you bench?” “Whatever I want." I blinked my one eye between the dude’s thick fingers. I tried to figure out where my mouth was so I could say something. “Mmmmfff!” “Bro I think he’s trying to say something,” said the skinny dude. I watched his biceps and pecs ripple under the gray fabric of his hoodie. He shifted his hands and held me up in front of his face. “What?”. “How?” I managed to gasp. “I told you. It’s what I do.” This was a circular conversation. But then, I was a ball. Fucking hilarious, right? “Well then, why?” “Some dudes need to be shown their place, y’know?” “What dudes?” “Dudes that think they can ignore me. Get wadded.” “I wasn’t… I talked to you!” “Making a move on a girl I got my eye on? Wadded.” “I didn’t know!” “Guess you do now.” “Bro, c’mon.” The skinny guy yawned and went back to his phone. Mr It’s-Not-My-Name-It’s-What-I-Do spun me on the tip of his finger like a basketball and I held together for a few seconds and then unravelled. I tumbled to the floor, put myself back together as best I could and then climbed back to my feet. Somehow he seemed taller than he did before which was weird. I mean, the whole thing was weird, right? He just stood in front of me, all jacked and indifferent, and I felt my face flush. “You feel hot or is it just me?” I said, pulling on the collar of my t-shirt. “Yeah,” he said. He unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off his massive shoulders. Bro. Like, *bro*. I heard someone gasp like a teenage girl and then I realized it was me. He wore nothing at all underneath. I took ragged breaths as I stared like a chump at his incredible body. He had a thick muscular neck and traps that humped up nearly to his ears. His delts swelled like they’d been inflated by a tire pump. His giant pecs jumped and bounced as he scrunched up his hoodie and tossed it on a sofa. His waist was a tight shredded stack of bricks that would have broken my hand if I’d punched ‘em. The waistband of his jeans was really loose because he had to wear a bigger size to fit his damn huge quads. Despite all that he was going commando, and letting his thick, blond bush sprout out the top of the jeans. I looked back up at his face in awe. He snorted and I was shocked to feel myself skid toward him slightly, like if he’d snorted harder I would have gone up his nose like a line of coke. Then he turned and walked toward the kitchen. “Gettin’ a beer,” he said. I stared at his 747 lats and bowling ball glutes for a few seconds and then my knees wobbled and I fell into the sofa. I picked up his hoodie and held it up to see how huge it was. I stuck my arms in the sleeves and pulled it over my shoulders. It has been skin tight on him but on me it looked like I could set it up with pegs and camp in it. My eyes started to glaze over as his alpha male pheromones wafted up from the fabric. Man, I was never doing drugs again, this was such a bad trip. “Hey.” I looked up to see Bess (I think?) standing over me. “You okay?” I smiled, back in the game. “Doing better now,” I said. “I’m Ricky.” “I’m Beth,” she said as she sat down next to me. “You’re gorgeous, babe.” “Awww, thanks Ricky.” She tossed her sleek black hair, and pushed out her chest. Damn she had nice tits. “This is probably weird to say. But you smell really good.” “Thanks, Beth,” I said. “That is not even the weirdest thing someone’s said to me in the last ten minutes.” “Ha ha, you’re so funny!” She leaned into me like she was going to whisper something sexy in my ear. I watched, excited, as her tits heaved. Instead of whispering, she inhaled, her nose buried in the cotton of the hoodie. I felt her whole body quiver in lust. Hell yeah! “Wow, you really smell good,” she moaned. “I got something you can smell, babe.” Okay maybe that wasn’t my best line ever, but I was goddamn high for fuck’s sake. Just then, a heavy weight smashed into me like a 250 lb bowling ball was dropped in my lap. Everything went dark. “What the fuck?” I tried to say, but my mouth was squished flat into my face by back muscle. My thighs folded up against my chest as half my body was jammed down into the crack in the back of the sofa. “What happened to Ricky?” Beth asked. “Who’s Ricky?” The low frequency vibes from HIS deep voice battered my face even flatter. “Oh nevermind. Wow you really smell good!” I tried to roll my eyes, but that was hard to do since they were squished. “Yeah,” he said. “Ha ha, you’re so funny!” Oh my god, WHAT was I doing at a party with these morons? “That’s it I’m outta here!” I shouted, though it came out more of a mumble. Using all my strength I tried to push myself up. My forearms were the only part of my body that wasn’t squished flat by his massive back and giant thighs. I braced my elbows against the back of the sofa and pushed hard with my hands on his external obliques. This was the only part of his jacked bod I could get a grip on, since both his lats above and his glutes below flared out beyond where my stumpy half-limbs could reach. Dude, I pushed so hard but nothing happened. Fuck. He was an immovable object and being a half-man at the time, I was no irresistible force. But somehow my drug-addled brain wouldn’t admit defeat, dude. I took as deep a breath as my pancake ribcage could manage and pushed against him with all my might. I felt some movement and groaned with even more effort as my arms pushed forward. I let out a whoop when I felt my arms extend fully, but it caught in my throat when I realized everything was still dark. I hadn’t moved his damn super heavyweight physique an inch, I’d merely pushed my noodly arms around his narrow waist. They were caught deep into the groove of his swole Apollo’s Belt. All I could do was keep pushing ‘em forward. “Should I?” I thought. Dude, I’d seen enough self-loving muscle fags flexing in the locker-room mirrors to know the pot that was at the end of that rainbow. “Damn it, I’m no queer!” I burbled into a back muscle. You know, one of those ripply back muscles that wasn’t a trap or a lat and only nerds knew the name of. But a defiant, curious part of me was like: “I bet it’s tiny. I bet his dick is tiny and even tinier lost in all that muscle. I bet this Muscle Mary has a clit dick. A clit dick to match his bitch tits.” With a strangled gurgle, I pressed my entire body forward so that my arms could reach further. My head mashed into the deep canyon between his lower traps. My shoulders and upper arms folded into the undulating layers of his lats, and my lower legs twisted themselves into the corrugated muscle of his hamstrings. “Tiny dick, tiny dick!” I chanted, ignoring the pain as my rubbery hands groped into a dense grove of his pubes that scraped my skin like barbed wire. Finally my fingertips touched a squishy tube that was the size a pencil. “Yes!” I croaked “Tiny dick!” A deep, rumbly laugh pummeled my Play-Doh body, vibrating me into a sticky goo that spread even further into the crevices of his Adirondacks back. The laugh went on and on. My fingers crept forward and I felt the huge salami that lay beneath the pencil. It was just a vein. A vein running along the biggest cock ever. Not only was this dude jacked the fuck out, he was monster hung! Daaaaaamn. “This look tiny to you, babe?” he said. Bess squealed: “Oh my god!” “Let’s take this somewhere private.” The dude stood up and suddenly I could see again. It wasn’t pretty. “Strong dude!” said the skinny guy. “You got some gum or something stuck to your back.” The dude flexed and rolled his massive traps and lats but all that did was weave my bits further into him. “Help a bro out?” he said over his shoulder. The skinny guy pulled on the belt loop of my pants and I peeled away from the grinding gears of his muscle with a loud, goopy THWOCK. The skinny dude dropped me on the sofa and went back to his phone. “Oh, hi Ricky!” said Bess. “I wondered what happened to you.” I was wondering that too, but it took me a few moments to pull myself together, while the dude steered Bess toward the bedroom. I finally stood up from the sofa. When I rose to my full height I was shocked to see that I was now the same height as the short dude. Actually no, I was slightly shorter. “No,” I breathed hotly. I couldn’t be short now. “Give it back! “ I yelled as I marched over to him. You could beat a man at sports. You could fuck a man’s girl. You could even wad a man up into a ball. But you couldn’t take a man’s height. That was too much. I felt my face flush in anger. “Uh,” said Bess, “why don’t I leave you guys to work this out.” She flitted off to the kitchen. The dude turned to me, and before I even considered what I was doing, my fist swung in an arc at his face. He raised his hand sharply and caught my punch in his huge mitt. He closed his fingers tight around my clenched fist, which looked like a small child's compared to his. In fact his huge fingers were each bigger than my dick. I looked past the hand to his face. Maybe it was because I didn’t bother paying that much attention to short people, but I hadn’t noticed before how handsome he was. He had stunning green eyes flecked with gold. Blond hair buzzed into a tight fade on the sides. Major cheekbones and a stubbly, cleft chin. And a square masculine jaw, measured by the devil’s own protractor. My anger ebbed, replaced by lust. For the first time since I was a teenager I got a hard-on for a dude. He didn’t even acknowledge I’d tried to sock him, he just said: “Never tried it one handed before.” He grunted with mild effort as my fist collapsed into his hand. “What?” I said. My gaze traveled to the muscles of his forearm, which were rippling like a nest of snakes. His thick fingers extended out like a claw, then pulled inward, compacting more of my forearm into his palm. His big, meaty thumb compressed and held the wad in place while his fingers reached out for more. Dazed, I stared dumbly as my elbow got sucked in. The weird thing was, I could feel it. I could feel him exerting his strength on my body. I could feel the counter-pressure of my wadded up arm trying to burst out his palm, and it was kind of exciting, like getting a boner in too-tight briefs. As my bicep reached his hand I flexed it. Not to try to pull away, that seemed impossible, (and I wasn’t sure I wanted to). I flexed it just to see what would happen. It formed a small mound. I had never before thought of my biceps as small, but there was no doubt: the muscle at the base of his thumb was bigger. He met my eyes and held that thumb-muscle against my biceps like he was making damn sure I saw the comparison. Then he squashed it flat. As he continued packing me into his fist with the fingers of one hand, something occurred to me. “How come…” I paused, realizing my voice was hoarse. “How come there’s no pain?” He looked offended. “Dude. I’m not a psychopath.” He bit down on his lower-lip as he reached my torso; he splayed his four fingers out and they mashed the right half of it in one go. Then he extended an index finger and pressed it against the top of my thigh. My whole right leg bent backwards and his pinky finger hooked it into the wad. When he got to the pelvis he did the same trick on my left leg. I burped as a bit of gas forced its way out of my stomach. I was beginning to regret some of my choices here. “Man, sorry I punched you.” “That? First backbone you’ve shown dude,” he said as my literal backbone inched its way into his fist. “Makes me think I maybe misjudged you.” “Yeah?” He smirked. I was now just a head, arm and half-torso hanging from his hand. He leaned his head forward and I felt his hot breath in my ear. “That’s why you’re getting the extra sexy version.” My acid giggles came back, or it might have been the tickle of his lips on my ear. “No homo!” My hard cock said otherwise from somewhere within the racquetball sized mass in his hand. His pinky hooked my neck into the ball and I blindly copped a last feel of the cascading muscles of his pumped 20 inch forearm before his fist slurped up my arm like a noodle. “One handed, bro!” he whooped. He crushed me like Superman turning coal to diamond and then opened up his hand. I laid in his palm like an egg. “Now that’s a fucking WAD, man. Damn tight. I’m getting better at this.” “You are, dude!” I chirped as I blinked one eye. “Thanks, bro. Maybe you’re alright after all. Let’s go find Beth.” “I’ll be your wingman, bro.” “More like Pac Man, get it?” “Ha, ha ‘cause I’m round, right?” “You’re getting it bro.” *** It turns out, dude, that he wasn’t a nerd after all. He was just one of those guys that takes a while to warm up, y’know? “Chug! Chug! Chug!” chanted Bess and the Skinny Dude. I could hear him down the beer in barely four gulps. What a fucking stud! I popped my lips out of the wad, which he’d tucked between his pecs, and whistled. “Fuck yeah, bro,” he rumbled. “Your turn.” He flicked the cap off another beer with his thumbnail and turned it up into my mouth. At first I dribbled the liquid, coating his deep-cut eight pack with a foamy shine. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick that off later,” Bess cooed. Then I got the hang of it and swallowed again and again while the chug chant spurred me on. As the beer filled me up, more of me popped out of the wad. As I took the last gulps, my shrunken, twelve inch frame clung to the bottleneck, my legs swinging like a baby monkey at the zoo. “Good job, little guy,” he said, plucking me off the bottle and holding me up in front of his huge, handsome smile. Bess loomed over me like a beautiful giant. Look how small you are Ricky! Babe, don't drop him!” But then I belched like a linebacker at a victory party and he let go in surprise. I fell down his torso, skidding over the slick rocks of his abs into the loose waist of his jeans, and came to an abrupt stop straddling the base of his huge cock. Thank fuck it was still spongy soft or my tiny balls would have been crushed! “Aww look at him he’s so cute! Babe you’re like a kangaroo with a little joey!” said Bess as I looked up dazed from my new perch. He looked at her weird but Skinny Dude, leaned drunkenly against him. “That’s a compliment bro, those ‘roos are jacked as shit.” “Seriously? That’s cool, man.” While Skinny Dude showed him a vid on his phone of two muscular kangaroos boxing, Bess leaned over and poked my tummy like I was the Pillsbury Doughboy. I giggled to make her laugh and stared at her giant tits, but then her breathing got real heavy as her hand went lower. She felt the shaft of his soft cock between my legs. “It’s soooo big, Ricky. And he’s not even hard yet.” She winked at me like I was a co-conspirator in getting that cock in her pussy, and I started panting with lust at the image that sprung into my brain of just that, my own prick growing rock hard in an instant. “Look, babe, Ricky’s got a little boner!” she said slyly. “Yeah?” he said “Nice, bro.” I looked down at my stiff rod sticking straight out. It was dwarfed by a vein that started to fill with blood as I felt the flesh beneath my ass begin to swell. She stood up and crushed her body to his. Her soft curves molding to his stony hardness, with me caught in between. I could smell her cunt getting slick as she moaned “Fuck me!” into his ear. “Guess what bro?” he said. “Looks like we’re getting lucky.” We stumbled into a bedroom and she fell back on the mattress while he leaned against the door to close us off from the din of the party. Of its own accord, his giant cock busted open the fly of his jeans as it swelled to its full cunt-busting length. I gasped as I stared at the huge purple helmet towering over my head as his thick shaft crushed me into his navel. “Babe—“ she stuttered. “Do you have a condom?” His rumbly chuckle vibrated my bones to jelly and he plucked me up and rolled me flat between two fingers. “See, bro, I told you you’d get into her pussy.” ** Isn’t that fucked, dude? Have you ever heard a story as crazy as that? It’s all true, no word of lie. In fact, dude, I feel flushed, and jacked as shit since I left there. At first, I had a huge headache from how my head kept pounding into her cervix. Yeah bro that huge cock really filled her up to the max. And when she came, that cunt pounded back, dude. Fuck! And then he busted, filling my fucking latex ass with primo jock muscle juice. Once they fell asleep, I pried myself off that big cock and squeezed my hole to keep every bit of that stud cum in me. Fuck man, I was back to normal height in seconds! And look man, muscles like I never seen before in all my life. Feel that bicep bro, big and hard as a rock. I said feel it bro. Where do you think you’re going, you little shit? Feel that muscle I said. Who are you calling a weird ass motherfucker? I tell you a cool story and then you try to split like a chump? C’mere you. Hrgh. Hnnnn. That’s right, who’s weird now, dirtbag? Hrggh. How do you like being a ball, fucker? END

Chapter 1 "The advertisement" Joe read the advertisement. He read it again. Yes, it did state what was written. "An extremely wealthy man and his partner seek intimate male company for summer holidays on their private island. All costs covered. Applicants must be young, athletic and be willing to fulfill ALL needs of the couple. Applications together with a set of body pictures to be submitted to the following email address…." He felt it was his lucky day. He fulfilled the criteria ideally. He was 22, 185 cm (6"1) and 105 kg (230 lbs) of muscle. He was also broke and had no summer plans. Joe believed that this was a dream job - he will lie down on the beach during the day and at night he will join the two probably older men and fuck them. He will be well fed and he will work out, cause they will have a gym for sure. A dream holiday. He smiled as he realized the usefulness of the photo session he did last month. The photographer worshiped him both with the lense and with his hands and tongue. That was the payment for the photo set, cause Joe had no funds to pay him. The very little extra funds he had went to purchase of gear. Speaking of gear - maybe the rich guy will provide it too? He wrote the email describing himself and adding all the good pictures he had. One picture showed him curling the EZ bar loaded with 60 kg (130 lbs). His fully pumped 47 cm (19 inch) biceps were stretched to the max (cold they were 5 cm (2") smaller). Blood was pulsating under the skin. Veins criss-crossing creating a beautiful map of an unknown terrain. The viewer was invited to lick them while Joe struggled with the weight. Just behind the EZ bar, you could see Joe's meaty pecs. Not as pumped as the arms (it was arm day, not pec day), but proportionally built. He always wanted bigger pecs. The ones he had, a dream for most average guys his age, were certainly not big enough for him. And just above the pecs you could see Joe's handsome young face. His sparkling blue eyes, his dark blond, slightly curly hair, his long eyelashes… He could work as a model with his great body and charming face. He just had no connections to the modeling business. But maybe some day… Another picture showed Joe seductively lying on a sofa with just red briefs on. It showed Joe's legs, which were his pride. He never skipped leg days. Big meaty well-defined quads, quite good hamstrings (less visible on the photo), and those calves … he was gifted with great calf genetics and he used it to the max. He was extremely proud of his 44 cm (18") diamond calves. And at the end of the photo were his feet. These have been admired and worshiped by several of his lovers. Long and elegant, he always thought that there was something royal in them. A third picture showed his back. He had a really good V-shape with a thick upper back. He loved pulldown and rowing exercises. And below his back was his lovely meaty ass grown by countless squats. He loved to top, but he was vers and he sometimes allowed lucky guys to fuck him. And they were always in awe of his back door. He was thinking of telling his ex about the advertisement, but then he had a second thought - Ben was such a jerk, that he didn't deserve to have a perk holiday. Once the email was ready and the pics attached, he clicked the "Send" button. And waited.

Nick and Brandon are stepbrothers. The two brothers never really bonded with each other due to their differences in basically everything, not just their environment. Nick is the older brother, 24 years old, 6'3 tall, and 250 lbs. Brandon is the younger one, 18 years old, 5'4 tall, and 120 lbs. Nick always acts cockily around his younger brother. He would always bully and beat Brandon. Although Brandon is turned on by his brother’s size, he wishes he can be of equal match to him at the very least. One night, after working out, Nick saw himself at a mirror in his own room. He admired his pump. He flexed and worshipped his body and it gave him pleasure. He rubbed his pecs that were the size of melons. He moved his hands to his perfect washboard abs. He flexed both his arms which were bigger than grapefruits. He continued to touch himself. The feeling felt so good that he slipped his hand in his shorts and started caressing his cock, he started moaning and breathing heavily while his other hand touches his big body. Brandon heard his brother moan and sneakily peeked at the door. He secretly watched his brother pleasure himself and it turned him on. He continued to watch as Nick moaned louder and harder. He was getting close to cumming. Brandon could not help but feel aroused seeing his brother masturbating. He wanted to do something to his brother. He decided to take action. When Nick is finally asleep, Brandon went to his brother’s room and took off all Nick's clothes. He then proceeded to grab his brother’s body. He started with grabbing his brother's huge biceps and flexing them. He moved to his chest and grabbed his brother's washboard abs. Then he reached down and grabbed his small cock. It was about 4 inches long. He wrapped his fingers around it and stroked it. After a few minutes, he noticed Nick's tight asshole and noticed that he is sleeping heavily. He put his cock in his brother's ass and started thrusting into him. After a couple of minutes, he felt his brother wake up. He felt his brother’s massive cock start to get hard. Brandon started moaning and pumping harder in his brother. His orgasm started to build up inside him. When Brandon was nearing release and was moaning hard, Nick woke up. As Nick opened his eyes and saw what was happening, Brandon busted his load inside Nick. "Ughhh! Fuck yes!" Brandon shot several loads of cum deep in his brother's ass, not knowing Nick is now awake. Nick grunted as he felt his brother's hot jizz filling his hole. Brandon then pulled out his cock and shot another load of cum on Nick's face. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Nick is enraged. He grabs Brandon and starts beating him. "You fucking bastard! I'm going to kill you!" Nick grabs his brother and pushes him against the wall. Nick begins beating his brother up until he feels a weird sensation inside him. His body seems to be reacting to his brother’s cum. Nick becomes dizzy for a split second and he looks back at Brandon. Nick then notices he is not looking down at Brandon as much as before. “What the fuck?" Nick utters in confusion. Nick sees his body has shrunken. He is still big but he is no longer the giant he was before. He is now about 5'10 and 200 lbs. Nick didn't realize his cock is hardening, but Brandon did. Busy contemplating what just happened, Nick didn't notice Brandon kneeling in front of him and started sucking his massive cock. "Uhh, oh fuck!" Nick moaned. Brandon had been dreaming about this moment for years. He always wanted to suck his brother's cock. He never got the chance to do so because Nick always humiliated him. Now that he finally gets the opportunity, he takes advantage of it. Brandon continues to suck his brother's cock while touching Nick's hot body. Nick was in heaven. The feeling of having Brandon's mouth around his cock is indescribable. He felt so much pleasure that his knees weakened and he lied down. Brandon sucked harder. “Oh god, Brandon, stop." Brandon kept sucking his brother's cock. He then reaches under Nick's body and gropes his huge balls. Brandon started sucking his brother's dick faster. He could tell Nick was close to cumming. He wanted to make sure he shoots a lot of sperm in his brother's mouth. Nick was getting closer to orgasm. "Shshhit! Ughh ohh ughhh"He moaned loudly and started shooting his load in Brandon's mouth. Brandon swallowed every drop of his brother's cum, while sucking harder. Change started to gradually happen to both of them. Nick's cock was shrinking and getting smaller. Brandon's body was growing bigger and stronger. He feels his pecs growing bigger and juicier as he squeezes Nick's shrinking ones. While still sucking hard on Nick's cock, he poses a double bicep. Brandon's cock grows longer and thicker as he feels Nick's cock shrink in his mouth. He feel his limbs lengthen as he grows taller. At this point, the 24 year old Nick is about 5'5 tall and 170 lbs, he still has the muscle mass of a model, but not big as before. The 18 year old Brandon, on the other hand, is now about 6'2 and 250 lbs. Nick's cock shrunk from 10 inches to 4 inches and the opposite happened to Brandon. Nick had begged him to stop, but Brandon didn't. "Can you still beat me up, little guy?!" Brandon exclaimed. Brandon swallows and he stood up, looking at both his and his brother's bodies. He comes to the mirror and worships himself, like he saw Nick do earlier. He cums on the mirror. "Fuck that's hot! I get why you like doing that now." Brandon says. Nick stares in disbelief. "But you know what would be hotter? If I were bigger. I see you have more size I can take, I want it." Brandon says, glancing back at Nick. Brandon starts to rub and suck on Nick's now smaller body. "No please, no more, I'm too small now, please!" Nick protests and attempts to fight back but Brandon is stronger. Brandon begins squeezing every muscle he can feel. Nick feels his limbs retracting as he gets shorter. His muscles start to condense in his smaller frame. He is now about 5'3 while Brandon grows into a towering 6'4. Brandon then proceeds to knead his now thicker muscles. As he squeezes his Nick's juicy chest, it slowly transfers onto him. He works his way around his other muscles, taking it all, leaving but a faint outline of abs. Brandon checks out his body now, he is now bigger than Nick ever was. As Brandon was distracted by his own body, Nick feels a build up of pleasure churning inside him and his cock started to harden from seeing how big Brandon got. Nick started stroking his 4 incher and he started moaning. Nick's moans got Brandon's attention which made him look at Nick. "I'm gonna need that as well to complete the look." Brandon said. As Nick was about to cum, Brandon placed his hand on Nick's cock. Nick's cock began to dwindle in size while Brandon's grew into a full 12 inches. "Ughh oh fuck uh" when Nick's cock had shrunken into a little nub, he finally cums on Brandon's hand. Brandon licks his palm and smears the cum on his face, making his face more chiseled. "That's better, thanks for the donation, little bro." Brandon tells his emaciated brother as he leaves the room.

Hey guys, Longtime lurker who’s finally decided to take the plunge. Not much exposition here - suffice it to say the characters are 18+ fraternal twin high school seniors, one of whom is developing a bit faster than the other... Anyway, definitely not literature; I just want us all to nut like crazy till we’re dehydrated. ************** Fraternal Part 1: Daydream Believer Matt stared off into space, blocking out the droning teacher, dreaming about his twin bro. Fuck, what if Derek kept growing? What if he shot up and out, towering over him, hitting 7’? His massive, sweaty muscles hulking with veins and striations, bulging and flexing rock hard with man power. He’d storm into their bedroom, casually breaking the door down with one massive fist, ducking down and turning sideways to squeeze through the opening... “What the fuck?!” “Sorry lil bro, but I got so fuckin horny workin out! I need your ass,” Derek growled, his deep bass voice matching his ruggedly handsome, thickly bearded teen face and gigantic body. His veiny monster dick was rock hard and leaking a thick rope of precum, slanted off to the side and ripping through the heavy material of his shorts. Derek flexed his abs and cock hard, blowing his shorts and jockstrap apart completely, his monster dick flipping upward and slinging precum onto his briefcase-sized pecs and into his thick teen beard. A big rope hung off his heavy mustache, right over the full lips, and his incredibly long powerful tongue unfurled to lap the salty goo off sensually. Derek strode over to the bed, his huge feet thudding. He reached down and grabbed Matt by the throat, his giant paw wrapping easily around the jock’s neck. He lifted his bro out of bed with one fluid motion, barely registering the weight on his hulking arm. He dangled Matt in midair. Their eyes were completely level, while Matt hung eight inches off the floor. “Enough talk. Fuck time!” Derek roared, flipping Matt around and impaling his beefy ass on the dripping, veiny 13” long x 3” diameter monster dick, the apple-sized cockhead busting past his glutes and stretching his ring wide open. Matt saw with horror in the mirror that he no longer had a tight puckered little manhole, but thanks to Derek’s repeated battering a gaping, sloppy, loose-lipped mancunt hung from his jock boy ass and hugged the giant meat wetly. His back arched as he begged for more, goading his twin into a frenzy of musclefucking, globs of hot precum belching out of his red, prolapsed, destroyed pussy, the massive cock distending his abs like some kind of alien invader. Matt watched through tears as Derek’s incredible girth dragged his guts inside out, filling him like no other man could. Suddenly Derek gripped his side hard with one huge paw, slamming Matt down until Derek’s dick was buried to the orange-sized balls. He flexed hard, a full body flex that made the veins on his muscles and cock surge, forcing him to grow outrageously bigger, stretching out Matt’s already wrecked asshole and lifting his body up. “Unnnf... so fuckin BIG...” he moaned, clamping his mancunt down and suddenly erupting like the fucktoy slut his bro’s muscle and dick had transformed him into. “Grrr, yeah, fuckin’ big.. an’ gettin’ BIGGER!” Derek growled, suddenly straightening up his towering body and flexing to appreciate his new height and power, Matt’s whole body weight supported easily by Derek’s steel-hard monster. Razor-cut striations jutted out even more across the insanely muscled expanse of this body, while veins pulsed and bulged even thicker. Fuck, Derek was noticeably bigger and leaner than he was earlier that day, bulging with raw masculinity and dripping with sweat. He felt Derek’s balls swell and tighten up as the first cannon blasts of cum began to batter his guts, his gaping pussy meat sliding up the veiny shaft from the force... RRRRING! Matt snapped to attention back in class, dick spent and dripping down his leg, as the bell rang.

...And Sometimes, I Get What I Want by vertical Finally. <<PART 3: ...And Sometimes, I Watch My Dad Go to Work... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My hand trembled as I turned the knob to my father’s bedroom. Careful not to make a sound, I rested my hand against the door and slowly jarred it open. ‘Slowly, slowly,’ I told myself, cringing as if my bones were shattering as the door creaked. Goosepimples flared from my neck downwards, my nerves setting themselves on fire as the fear took hold. I paused in my advance, the only sound I heard, the blood rushing through my veins as my blood pressure skyrocketed. That, and the rhythmic rumbling coming from within the room. He was still sleeping. Thank Go- The only deity in this house was my father. I had only managed to get the door open a crack, but the eerie moonlight filtered in through the large bay window at the far side of the room. The outline of a slumbering giant was in stark relief to the darkness that surrounded him, his enormous silhouette tinted in a supernatural blue light, a halo. I had to see more. I cautiously pushed against the door, the hinges once again protesting my motion. I stop once again, dread setting in as I had to make a choice, my sanity on the precipice – I either stole away back to my room, tail between legs, or push on, risking waking the demigod that slept therein. I had always been a cautious guy... that is, unless it came to lust. And succumbed I did. Bracing myself, I pushed the door open, stepping into the room. The sound it made was pure agony, like nails against a chalkboard. The fear was so intense, I couldn’t move, just standing there, my heart beating out of my chest, my temples throbbing. He was still sleeping. My father’s body took up most of his king-sized bed. He was barely clothed, his shorts, or what must’ve been his shorts, was hiked up to his pelvic girdle, his quads now simply too massive after his latest growth spurt. His torso was barely covered at all, his stringer, a thin wisp on his brutish, musclebull’s physique. The strings barely made it over his protruding chest, dense forests of hair obscuring them. The tube of the shirt was so pathetic next to his overwhelming size, it only came down to the upper portion of abgut. His enormous feet dangled off the end and his shoulders, by the gods, they almost spanned the entirety of the bed. His meaty arms, each larger than my torso, flopped off the sides of the bed. As my senses returned to me, as the adrenaline in my blood simmered, I could hear his deep breaths, like wind moving through a cavern, each exhale like a low moan. His mighty abgut, dotted with 4 visible blocky slabs protruded from his stomach. It rose and fell with each breath he took, ballooning into a rounded mass when he inhaled and ‘chiselling’ into a blocky 4-pack when he exhaled. His bulge, well, it was practically the first time I’ve seen it not in some state of arousal. I took trepid steps around him and almost tripped. An audible squelch rings out through the room and as my eyes adjust to the dim light, I realize I had stepped in another one of my dad’s cum-soaked socks. I had half a mind to take it and huff its contents, but I was already so close to the real thing. I gazed upon my prize. From this new angle, I could see that his balls and cock distended the basket of his shorts and so much that the dense forest of pubes did more to obscure the base of the bullcock growing out of his crotch than the waist of the shorts did. Heck, the band looked ready to snap at a moment’s notice. Even in the lowlight, I could make out the veins dancing along the surface of that epic spire. I was so close. I could already taste the tangy flavour of his seed, my mouth beginning to water. Those balls made so much. The were stuffed so cruelly in their prison. I would free them. I approached the bed, stepping over a pile of discarded clothing. The smell from afar was musky and pungent, but up close, the masculine aroma of testosterone practically created a barrier around him. My eyes watered, but nevertheless, I persisted. I slowly reached out my hand to the band of his shorts and gently tugged at it, hoping to release my prize. My eyes darted between my dad’s prodigious bulge and his rugged, heavily bearded face, searching for any sign of stirring. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, yet it paled in comparison to how much my father produced. His shorts and a-shirt were translucent, his hairs matted to his muscled form. The heat around him was so intense, his sweat giving him an otherworldly sheen in the moonlight. My fingers wrapped around the band of his shorts. Coarse hairs roughed up my knuckles as they dig into the fabric. And I pulled… “Shit,” I huffed under my breath. The band snagged around his waist. The combined girth of his torso and his junk was too great. I gave it another yank, but the elastic band just dug back into my fingers. This was as much as I was going to get out… At least from this angle. I readjust myself, both in position and in my crotch. My loins anticipated this as much as I did. I get closer to the bed and stand by closer to the headboard from the side. From this new vantage point, I was able to get a little further down. My fingers graze across his rough pubes and onto the steely, hot flesh of his god-prick, moist from his crotch-sweat. But it still wasn’t enough. I needed to get both hands around the band and work it down from both sides of his giant babymaker. But his crotch was just too far to reach around to both sides… Unless… I had to get on the bed. I whimpered as I nervously brought a knee up to crawl onto the bed. The shift in weight was incredible. My father was so immense, that even when I crept onto the bed to his side, I almost fell forward onto him. I carefully eyed him as he slept. With one hand and leg, I slowly crept on top of him, my ass resting on top of his abgut – there was no other choice, his girth was so immense the space between my legs was completely filled with his mass as I straddled him like I was riding a horse. I stopped in my motion, looking over my shoulder to see if he was waking, but he just laid there deep in his slumber. I rose inches with each one of his heavy breaths. If he felt any pressure against his abdomen, he didn’t show it, his breathing unimpeded, as if I weighed nothing to him. Hungrily, I looked back at his crotch. From this angle, it looked like a monument, proud and built to impress. I was ready. I grabbed at the band of his shorts with both hands and pushed it down. A smile grew on my face as more and more of his shaft was revealed. I let out a small, giddy laugh as I got about halfway down his resting meat before I felt resistance. My heart beat out of my chest. The portion already revealed was as thick as my arm in circumference, the base covered in hair, like the trunk of a small tree was growing out of his crotch. I gave the band another tug, but it wouldn’t budge any further. I tugged harder… and that was a mistake. “Ungh,” my father grunted from his sleep. I panicked, and my head shot around to look at his face. He gulped in his slumber and thrust his pelvis forward, the fabric of his shorts must’ve hiked its way into his asscrack. Shit. The force he generated with that thrust was so much, I yelped as I was thrown back, my backside meeting his upper abgut, my head wedged underneath his giant, pillow-sized, rounded pecs. I was terrified that that’d wake him for sure. But he just grunted a little. No… more pressing was what was happening to his crotch. When I fell backwards, I slid forward, down his gut such that my legs now straddled the root of my father’s pride. I leaned up, planting my hands onto the bed on both sides of my dad, my forearms brushing up against his fur-covered obliques. I watched in horror as the band dug into his shaft… and slowly contracted, rubbing against the flesh of his cock. I wasn’t sure what did it, my legs rubbing against the base of his cock, or the band of his shorts, or a combination of the two that did it, but my father’s god-cock began to fill with blood. Rapidly. I sat up, leaning forward. The spire of meat before me grew like the plants did in a nature documentary. It bloated with blood, pushing the band of the shorts obscenely until an ungodly tent formed in his crotch. And yet, it did not stop. I winced as the fabric began to fray at the seams where the leg meets the crotch. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. The crotch of his shorts failed catastrophically. In the blink of an eye, his gargantuan bull-cock ripped right out of his shorts. But, to my horror, as it shot up, it swung further up than I had anticipated, the head of his cock, the head as big as the one perched between my shoulders, slammed right into my face, hurtling me back once again. I whimpered as I came to my senses after the impact. Staring straight forward, I was greeted with the head of his shaft, one which was thicker around than my neck. There it was, the object of my desiring. I reached forward, and tilted my head up, the crown of my head digging into the underside of my father’s gargantuan pectorals, my hair mixing with that of his cleavage. I pulled at his cock as best I could, the length giving great resistance. Shit, even my dad’s cock was stronger than I was! I had to wrap my whole arm around the shaft to bring it closer to my face. It was like wrangling an animal, I’d get it close, but then with each of his thunderous heartbeats, it’d jostle out of my grasp. Finally, I managed to line up my mouth with his cum-slit. With a few gentle rubs from my other hand, a stream of pre-seed oozed out of his length. My eyes rolled back as it the liquid touched my tongue. It was pure ecstatic overload. Fresh from the source, his pre-cum was a watered-down version of the real deal, but it still had such an addicting flavour to it; creamy, salty, briny, powerful. I needed more of it! In desperation to get more of the sweet nectar, the ambrosia of my god, I reached back. My hand searched, my fingers and the palm of my hand grasping blindly at the rough, hairy surface of my father’s titanic chest until they found purchase on my prize. The nipple was thick enough to play in my fingers like a stress-ball. I squeezed and twisted it. The man-beast groaned lowly in his sleep as I twisted harder. Just like a spigot, the flow of his pre-seed increased and I lapped it all up like the horny son I was. I thrusted impudently as I came from the mixture of the taste of my dad’s pre-cum and the sheer power that he contained. How could my meek, soft-spoken father have become such a beast, the paragon of every man’s carnal desire to be bigger, stronger and more virile than every other male? I was enraptured, I was his. I blew a load right there and I still kept humping into my god. The muscle-beast began to breath heavily and short, his arousal mounting. I flit my tongue out and drank in his essence. “Corey,” my father moaned. I wasn’t sure if he was actually awake, sleep-talking, or if it was part of a feverish hallucination. I froze, but he continued to rumble. “Oh, Corey. That’s it, please your daddy…” He was sleep-talking… But who was I to deny a god? Using my arm around his shaft, I began to really use force, using the length of my bicep and forearm to dig into his flesh as I rubbed up against him. My wet crotch, having blown already, pressed into the base of my dad’s cock. I used my sweat-matted body in its entirety to jack off my father. I squeezed my pecs and abs into his length. I rubbed my face against his cockhead like a happy pup, lapping up the river of pre-seed cascading out of his length. I dragged my tongue against the corona, the crown, of the head. His whole body shuddered at that. My other hand was busy assaulting his nipple, flicking my fingers across the nub, eliciting weak, low growls from my sleeping father. He was getting closer, I could tell. The flow of pre-cum was becoming so great, I couldn’t keep up, my face covered in a gooey mess of lubricant. The king of all shafts, the largest prick on any man, my father’s godhood, it shuddered and spasmed randomly. The sound emanating from my father’s chest, his tympanic heartbeat quickened, the sound reverberating through my skull. But before I could have my prize, something happened… I felt my father’s skin grow hot, almost uncomfortably so. It was like pressing my skin up against a hot iron. And rather than see my dad’s cock spurt… I began to see the rest of him seize up. I couldn’t see much, only able to turn my head to the side, but I could feel everything. I felt my legs being pushed uncomfortably. My father’s shaft widened, spreading my thighs apart. But at the same time, his growing, thickening quads pushed my calves inwards as they rested on his bloating balls. My vision was blotted out as the shaft before me thickened even further, obscuring the dim light of the moon from outside. And as it thickened, it also lengthened. “No,” I whimpered as I watched the head of his shaft inch up. It brushed against my nose as it ascended to greater lengths. I desperately tried to get a hold of the cockhead, but the pre-seed had slicked it up so much that I couldn’t keep it in my hand. Soon, the tip was at eye-level, the slit oozing translucent slime all over, blurring my vision. I struggled to wipe the pre-cum out of my eyes and before I knew it, as I looked up, I was staring into the pulled and taut foreskin of my father’s uncut behemoth. I whimpered as I watched the head disappear above my father’s growing pectorals. The only reprieve of this situation was that his shaft, now as thick as my thigh, wasn’t pressing so hard into me anymore, a testament to how thick his pecs had become. At the same time, his giant man-tiddies cast dark shadows over my face, twin globes protruding into my field of vision. With each laboured breath, I felt myself rising less with each inhale. I could feel his abs become less cushioned, the support underneath my back flattening. In my struggle to readjust myself, my hands touched his obliques and serrati and I could feel their definition underneath the thickening man-fuzz sprouting out of every pore. I gulped, realizing that my father was probably more shredded than me at this point. His balls gurgled, the twin pair of soccer ball-sized orbs rolled against the head of my calves as they pulled up, ready to inject their contents into my father and mix with his prostate fluids to create the most delicious nectar on the planet. As they pulled up, the momentum carried into his pelvis, my father thrusting slightly. It took seconds before the base of his cock distended, filled to the brim. The wave of cum travelled up his shaft, the veins on the surface of his shaft bulging as his flesh and skin fought to stay intact from the sheer amount of semen being forced through his urethra. It went from the base, up the shaft past my face and then out of sight. But I could still hear it. A torrent of cum exploded out of the tip, sounding like someone had thrown a balloon filled with viscous fluid against the headboard of the king-sized bed. “Hrrng, huuuh... Ugh?!” my father grunted. I froze as I felt the right side of his body begin to move, his lats shifted, his pectoral fanning out as he brought his hand up to wipe at his face. “What... the?” he moaned. “Ooooh,” he cried, the sound like that of a barn animal, low and sonorous. Another wave was incoming. Slowly, his balls once again pulled up. My father let out a loud whoop as the fluids lingered in his tubing, the beast desperate to get his liquid payload out. Veins writhed all over his body. His massive mitts came forward and grasped around his meaty length, the space made between his shaft and abs had grown large enough that he could glide his hands along his length without even touching me. It was like he didn’t even know I was there. I was just an insignificant gnat compared to him now. I was completely enclosed, no possible way for me to escape anymore, I was trapped between my father’s arms, cock, pecs and abs on all sides – and he didn’t even know. His orgasm was agony, both for him and me. His balls pulled up so slowly, so heavy and bloated with cum that it extended his mind-numbing orgasm, each load taking several seconds. As for me, I could hear, smell and almost taste his cum’s tang in the air, splashing against the headboard of the bed, going to waste. “Unng, feels so good... to grow!” he moaned. His arms tensed, every part of his body fighting for precious blood as he flexed hard. His chest and arms bursted with extra inches, his cock lurching as his orgasm continued. “Oh shit, no way Corey can’t hear this... fuck it!” he bellowed. He let loose, giving out an eardrum-shattering roar, his one hand beating furiously at his meat, the other molesting his protruding nipple, coaxing more and more cum out of his balls and prostate. “MORE!” he cried. He continued to blow load after load, his virility unceasing. The whole bed protested his demands, but his incessant hips bucked up and down to no avail. With a terrific whine, the frame of the bed collapsed, sending the boxspring and mattress to the ground, with me and my dad with it. The impact just sent a jolt through his balls and I swore his loads renewed in their size and length. Finally, after a good three minutes, his balls were no longer pumping, just spasming softly. My father was breathing slowly, groaning lewdly as his hand on his shaft massaged the length, caressed it. I could feel him reach up to wipe his face, the beast returning his hand to his sensitive nipple now with a fresh layer of cum coating it, smearing his seed all over himself like a lotion. “Shit, when’s that boy gonna come check on me? I was so loud,” my dad growled, his voice filled with lust, his hands filled with his own meat. I felt a wave of dread wash over me. “I want to breed him so bad,” he snarled, his hands still roaming up and down his epic frame. I almost mewled but kept it in my throat. There was no telling what he’d do to me if he actually found out I was right there while in his sex-addled stupor. Jesus, if he actually tried to do anything with me, he’d kill me with this thing. Thick as my leg, his shaft would scramble my organs. “Fuck,” he said, his breath heavy. “I’d kill ‘im if I tried,” he whined lowly. Well, no duh. But I didn’t expect what he said next. “But I need more,” he said hungrily. “MORE. Where is that boy… I want him to see me grow,” he rumbled deeply. In the dark, his massive hand shot out to pull at a drawer on the adjacent nightstand, now level with him thanks to bed collapsing. He pulled at it and my eyes lit up as an iridescent glow emanated from inside. He pulled a vial out, a reddish, glowing concoction held within the glass tube. What the hell was this, this definitely wasn’t what he said his doctor was giving him! “Doc says once a week,” Dad reminded himself. “But I can’t wait that long. I need to be bigger… stronger!” He uncorked the vial and I could hear him taking a big gulp. He sat up and I was flung from my hiding spot. Oh shit. I flew forward, knocking into my dad’s epic cock, but it wasn’t enough to stop me. I flew off to the side and landed across his gargantuan quads. “W-what the…?” my dad gulped, his bravado evaporating. He stood, the floor groaning underneath his weight as he stepped towards the light-switch by the entrance to his room. The light burned my eyes as he flicked it on. As I squinted, I could make out a silhouette of his form, blurry at first, but gradually coalescing into the greatest man on the planet. He stood before me in all his grandeur. In the light, and not stuck underneath his cock and pecs, I could finally see what his latest growth spurt had done to him. His arms, my God, they looked like they were hewn from granite. Veins the size of his fingers carved their way across his biceps, feeding his howitzers with blood. His legs were no different, his calves jutted out in stark relief, unable to touch one another due to the sheer size of his quads. Each of those were the size of tree trunks. His balls were slick with ball-sweat and cum, the wiry hairs matted to spheres the size of small watermelons. The shaft growing out of the root of his crotch was almost thicker around than my whole torso at this point and it stretched up to hit my father right in the middle of his chest. I looked at him slightly from the side and my suspicions were confirmed, he had a chiselled six-pack, outlined by swirls of dense fur carpeting his skin. His chest jutted out so much, his chin rested on top, the nipples pointed downwards from all the meat stuffed into his pecs. He looked at me with trepidation, a sudden remorse filled his eyes. His hair, both on his scalp and face had grown in, salt and pepper and dense. His face had intensified, his features more angular. His ears brushed against his traps, the swells of his back muscles almost entombing his head. “Corey?” Dad blubbered. He took a step away from me. This god of muscle, of strength, of pure masculine power incarnate, was afraid of me? It was in this moment I realized my fears had been for naught, despite becoming a giant musclefreak, my father was still the soft, ‘cuddly’ man I’d always known him to be. “Wha- how, where’d you come from? How long w-were you here?” he stammered. “What did you see?” he said under his breath. “Everything,” I replied after a slight pause. “Jesus,” he exclaimed. “Corey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I’d never…” “Dad, it’s…” I was cut off by my father letting loose a terrifying cry of pain. My eyes widened as the veins all across his body began to grow once more. A pained expression crossed his handsome visage as his head shot up once again. Bones and tendons snapped as they reconfigured my father into something greater. He grunted as his head brushed up against the ceiling, popcorn stucco dotting his hair. His traps flared out even further, rising even higher, giving him the appearance of a monstrous tank in human form. His pecs rounded out even further, becoming twin globes that would put the front of a truck to shame. His shoulders spread out even further, the seven bands on the lateral head were clearly visible. His arms bloated with even more muscle, the veins widening as his triceps flare and force his arms out wider as they competed for space with his lats and pecs. His abs tightened, from a chiselled six-pack to an eight-pack, the tight abdominals framed by shredded obliques and serrati. His balls filled, semen roiling inside, jostling the scrotum as they grew with abandon. His penis, so obscenely long, had thickened even more as the giant cockhead drooled pre-seed all over his clavicle. “Son, you have to… look away,” he moaned, barely able to get the words out as his mental faculties shut down from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through his system. “I’ll tell you everything, just please–” “Dad,” I cooed, resting my hand against his gigantic glute. “I know about everything. The cam sessions, the home gym you built, the cum socks. And I know you’re into guys. I… I am too.” What a way to come out. I smiled coyly at him and he retreated from me. I shot a hand out and touched his shaft, the flesh warm underneath my touch. The beast of a man moaned lowly, a shudder rumbling through his whole body. “You’re so big.” He smiled and leaned over, flexing his arm for me to feel. Its size was incredible, and I found myself creaming my pants as I felt the boulder of muscle. We stood there in silence save for his heavy breathing, staring into each other’s eyes. I pulled away from him and began to peel my clothes off. I knew what he wanted. My gargantuan father whimpered lewdly as he shot a massive wad of pre-seed as I took off my shirt, exposing my gym-earned midsection, a solid six-pack for his viewing pleasure. I bounced my pecs, their mass casting a small shadow onto my abs. It was nothing compared to my father’s assets, but from his reaction he enjoyed it immensely. I smirked as I took off my pants, revealing nicely muscled thighs and calves. My dad was busy double fisting his monolith of a penis, groaning and bellowing like a bull. I fished out my 7” prick and stroked it, the cum from my recent ejaculation slicking up my fingers. My father’s eyes grew half-lidded as he bit his lower lip. “See something you like?” I asked coyly. My father nodded sheepishly, a red blush crossing his strong, proud cheeks. Heh, he was a monster of muscle and yet he was just like all the other curious guys I’d deflowered in freshman year. “I do too,” I growled. I approached him, once again taking his shaft in my hands. I knew what I wanted. I pulled as his penis, trying to angle it down so that I’d have access to the cockhead. But try as I might, his cock was stronger than my entire body. My father, bless his soul, helped, using a massive paw to push his own shaft down, the skin pulling taut around his pelvis. Drool pooled at the corners of my mouth. After all this time, I finally had access to what I wanted. I looked up at my dad, a warm smile on his face, an expression as if to say, ‘go on.’ I walked around, feet from my father’s body, and grasped at the knob of his shaft. Dad momentarily slipped his grip on his shaft, losing control for a brief moment as my hand came in contact with the most sensitive part of his engorged organ. Pre-cum splattered in arcane patterns onto the ground as the shaft bobbed wildly like an uncaged animal. “Sorry, Cor,” he whimpered, looking at me with the expectant look of an injured animal. He pushed his shaft back down, grunting, braying like a beast of burden. I stared at the cum-slit, my mouth watering. Its lips were as big as mine. But then I looked up at my dad’s face, marred with a nervous expression. I knew what I wanted. I drew closer to him and place both of my hands on his shaft, hoisting myself up onto his length and straddling it like a pack-beast. My dad gave me a goofy grin and with a wink, flexed his arms down and chest out. My entire field of vision was swallowed by this man. He flexed his pelvic floor and sent me jostling into the air, only to be caught in his paws as he brought me over his pectoral shelf. I wrapped my hands around his traps, pulling myself closer to his handsome face. As my cheek brushed against his, his breath went ragged. The curls of his beard tickled me as our lips met and parted. Pure waves of ecstasy washed over me, and from the increased splash of pre-seed gushing out of my father’s prick against my backside, it washed over him as well. As he pulled away, his eyes fluttered, much like the butterflies in my stomach. He looked at me and then at the side. I turned to look at what he was staring at. There were still 11 red glowing vials sticking out of his night-table. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <<PART 3: ...And Sometimes, I Watch My Dad Go to Work... The end.

Preface If it started somewhere, I’d guess it started with James. James was too perfect, too beautiful to be real. I’d always secretly suspected deep down inside that he was an alien sent to our planet to observe us. It wasn’t just that he was gorgeous—but he was gorgeous. Tightly compact muscles that bulged enough to be seen through his clothes, broad shoulders that gave him a sway when he walked, a tight waist that gave him a dancer’s grace, a beautiful smile that radiated warmth, and chestnut hair that belonged in a shampoo commercial. And no matter how recently he shaved, he always had scruff that made him look like an action movie star. But again, there are lots of exquisite men that I don’t think are aliens. When I first met James three years ago, I was taken aback by his eyes. They’re violet. James insists that they’re just intensely blue and any violet that I see is just a trick of the light. He’s wrong; they’re violet. I know it’s not a trick of the light because when the light hits his eyes just right, they flash gold. How can his eyes be both violet and gold? Beyond his uncanny eyes, he always acts in a way that’s just… off. He doesn’t act like he understands the most normal, everyday things. He never shakes hands. He never wears shoes when it’s raining. He has weird holes in his vocabulary. He eats all of his meals out of bowls. Little weird things like that. And when it’s an uncommon situation… When our friend group (me, James, Dave, and Luke) went to an outdoor concert, James came dressed in a tux and brought a picnic lunch of wine and figs (in a bowl). When Dave went into the hospital after a minor car accident, James brought him three pet goldfish and a box of popsicles. When I told him I was gay, he asked, “What’s that?” And when I explained to him what it meant, he simply laughed and said, “Oh, Chris. Everyone’s gay.” Neither Dave nor Luke think James is an alien. Quirky and weird, sure, but not an alien. Hot guys don’t have to behave normally if they don’t want to. But if it wasn’t James who started this whole thing, I don’t know who was. Or what was. Maybe nothing did As I recall it, I was hiding, and James sought me out. I was outside, sitting behind my dorm on a stone wall set up to separate the dumpsters from street view. I was crying. Yet another guy had rejected me, and this one had been a real ass about it. I know I’m not much to look at. Well, I wasn’t then. I was a gangly 5’11”, barely 110 pounds soaking wet. I had a boring haircut and wore bland clothes. But I’m funny, and smart, and the life of the party. I’ve never exactly suffered from a lack of confidence. This rejection was just brutal. In front of a large crowd, he cut me down to size for daring to ask him out. It wasn’t really what he said or did; it was how he made me feel. He was the tenth guy in a row to reject me just because of my looks, and I’d never felt so small or unimportant in my life. So, I went out back by the dumpsters to cry, and James sought me out. He put a hand on my shoulder and said, “A guy like you deserves to have your deepest wish come true.” And, as the sun moved from behind a cloud, his eyes flashed gold. At the time, I took it as just a nice thing to say to a friend who was crying, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe James isn’t an alien. Maybe he’s magic.

Chapter 1 Cal was searching frantically in the supply room. “Let’s go, boys! On the field in five!” Shit shit shit.” His first practice and he didn’t have a uniform. He counted himself lucky to be on the football team as a freshman, but being late to his first practice wouldn’t bode well for his future. His parents had helped him buy his own set of pads, pants, and cleats, but he was supposed to get a jersey from the school. If it wasn’t for his ass of a math teacher he would’ve been early to get a jersey, but now he was shit out of luck. Pushing aside old bags of deflated balls and pads that still reeked of B.O., his hopes dashed by a jersey only to find a huge tear in it. He could feel his heartbeat faster as he counted down the seconds. “Fuckin finally!” Pulling a jersey out of the corner, he inspected it quickly. Still sporting the school colors but in an almost retro design. No holes, rips, and it didn’t smell that bad, it was, however, nearly 4 sizes too large. Standing at a proud 6’0 and 183 lbs, Cal was a size large, an xl accounting for his pads. Checking the tag, it was a size 5xl. Putting it on, cursing his luck. Checking in the mirror, the collar and sleeves were disproportionately huge, the waist billowing halfway down his thighs. Still, it was manageable and would probably last until he could get a fresh jersey. Running out to the field, his oversized jersey billowing around him. The other players were already on the field doing warmups, Coach Stevens off to the side talking to the quarterback and a couple of other seniors. Joining everyone else for what seemed like a couple of laps around the field, Cal took the opportunity to check out his fellow teammates. It was hard to tell under everyone’s gear, but it looked like Cal was the biggest freshman there. He was still clearly outmatched by some of the more seasoned athletes. Still, he was proud of how far he’d come. He spent his junior high years playing soccer and only recently started lifting weights in his free time. By the time Summer started, the repeated soccer practices and games started to lose their excitement. It had started out fun, the competition, the training, the wins. But after a few weeks, it didn’t seem as exhilarating. Soon lured by the intensity of football, Cal found himself admiring the lifestyle. The games, the intensive training, the social life. Starting in June, he began working out, increasing his calorie intake, and even started taking supplements. He remembered fondly the thrill of first seeing the fruits of his labor. After two weeks of his regiment, he felt his shirtsleeves starting to bunch up over his biceps. Soon he could feel his pecs start to press out against the fabric. He practiced flexing in the mirror, seeing his muscle tone increase week by week. By the time Fall came around, he proudly marked his progress over the summer in his head: 1 inch taller and 23 lbs of bulk added to his powerful frame. Cal could feel his pulse beginning to rise as he quickened his pace. The excitement of actually being on the field, Cal tried to take it all in. The smell of sweat and fresh grass filling his lungs, his cleats digging into the field as he jogged ahead. Completing their laps, the players gathered round for a quick introduction and an overview of their games for the season. Remorsefully, Cal accepted that he wouldn’t be able to play most of the season’s games. Going out on the field in groups, Cal paired himself up with two other freshman newbies for some beginner tackles. Trusting his size and abilities, Cal prepped himself to rush the faux quarterback and the poor guy protecting him. The ball was thrown and Cal launched himself at the receiver, taking him down in a tumble. Cal could feel his muscles vibrating with energy as he jumped back up, ready to go again. That whole afternoon, it seemed like nothing could tire him. They kept going until sunset. By then everyone was ready to collapse, but Cal felt like he could keep going for hours. Getting home and tossing off his sweaty clothes, he got into the shower. Feeling the heat from his pumped muscles escape into the frigid water, Cal relaxed his energized body. As the water crept up in temperature, he paid close attention to his groin. Proud of what he had for his age, Cal soaped up his schlong and balls. Swinging to its full 6.5 inches, he gently stroked it. Getting out of the shower, his hard on bouncing up and down, Cal started to towel off his muscular torso. Looking down, he could feel something off about his point of view. His normally small but hard pecs looked bigger, protruding further out. Checking himself in the mirror, he could tell his frame was much thicker than it was that morning. Jumping on the scale, it read 195. “195? What the fuck?!” Out of nowhere, a deep voice behind him chuckled, “Awesome right?”

Julian had always been the envy of his classmates with his toned physique and chiseled abs. He was proud of the countless hours he spent in the gym perfecting his body. Julian has brown eyes, thick eyebrows, dark curly hair, and he's tall at 6'1. Julian was feeling confident as he walked into his physics class on the first day of the semester. He had been working extra hard all summer to get his body in top shape, and he was excited to show off his impressive muscles. As he took a seat in the front row, he noticed a new student sitting a few rows back. "Hey there" James said to Julian, taking him by surprise. "Hi, you must be James, nice to meet you!" Julian replied, looking down at his shoulder level. "You're really quite the big guy huh?" James said as he notices and touches Julian's arms, while Julian blushed and laughed. James is an innocent looking student with blue eyes, messy brown hair, he smaller than Julian, standing at only 5'6, he looked skinny. They seem to be getting along in their first interaction, however, Julian has a weird feeling towards him that he can't seem to shake off. Over the next few weeks, Julian noticed that something strange was happening. Every time he saw James, he felt like he was losing muscle mass. At first, he didn't think much of it, but as the weeks went by, he started to feel weaker and smaller. He could see his once impressive washboard abs disappearing, and his biceps were no longer as defined as they used to be. Julian tried to convince himself that he was imagining things, but every time he looked at James, he felt like he was shrinking. Every day, Julian couldn't help but notice that James seemed to be getting more muscular while he was getting smaller. Julian tried to ignore it, he would often bounce his pecs and flex his biceps, telling himself that he was still in good shape. But every time he saw James, he couldn't help but feel a sense of envy. From that moment on, Julian became obsessed with James' muscles. "What's your secret" he thinks as he would watch him in class and at the gym, admiring his strength and power. But the more he watched, the more he realized that he was losing his own strength and power. He started to avoid James as much as possible, but even when they weren't in the same room, Julian could feel his muscles getting smaller. One day, Julian couldn't take it anymore. He confronted James after class and accused him of stealing his muscles. "What? Is this a joke? Hahaha!" James just laughed and flexed his biceps, which looked bigger and more defined than ever. "I just discovered the fun in working out. Do you wanna come with me to the gym?" James approached Julian and asked him if he wanted to work out together. "Su-sure thing, I guess" Julian nervously accepted the offer, hoping that he could finally get his strength back. As they started lifting weights, Julian couldn't help but admire James' impressive muscles. James was lifting heavier weights than Julian, and his biceps were bulging with every rep. "Ugh yeah! I can feel the pump!" Julian bounced his pecs and flexed his muscles in front of James, he was convinced that he was still the biggest and strongest guy in the room. But as James flexed his own muscles, Julian couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy and jealousy. James' muscles were bigger and more defined than ever before, and Julian couldn't help but feel like he was shrinking in comparison. "Wow, ughhn" Julian whimpered as he felt a surge of excitement at the sight of James' muscles. He couldn't resist touching them. He whimpered in ecstasy as he touched James' bigger body and muscles, feeling the power and strength that he had lost prior. "Your body is one of the hottest I've seen" James admired Julian's body and touched it, Julian started to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe he wasn't as small as he thought he was. Maybe he still had some muscle left in him. As James touched Julian's now smaller body, he couldn't help but admire the way it looked in his hands. He could feel every crevice and contour of Julian's muscles, even though they were much smaller than before. "I feel so hot" Julian flexed as James continued to admire him, feeling good about himself for the first time in weeks. For a moment, Julian felt like he was still bigger than James. He flexed every muscle he had left, trying to prove to himself that he still had some strength and power left in him. But as he flexed, he could feel his remaining muscles and height being stolen away. "What's happening to me- ughhh!" Julian began to panic as he watched his once-impressive muscles shrink before his very eyes. His biceps were no longer bulging, his abs were no longer defined, and his chest was no longer juicy. "Ugh please no, stop, ughh" He whimpered louder and louder as James rubbed his body, stealing away what little strength he had left. Finally, Julian had reached orgasm and cums all his size away. Julian felt ecstatic and defeated all at the same time, unable to resist the power of James' muscles. His tall body fell weak on James's arms. James continued to feel Julian's "muscles," enjoying the sensation of power and strength that he was able to extract from them. He admired Julian's body, taking in every inch of it, even though it was much smaller than before. "Ugh fuck this is so hot" James couldn't help but let out a whimper of desire. He was addicted to the feeling of power and strength that he got from Julian's body, and he couldn't resist the temptation to take even more. Julian whimpered as James touched him, feeling a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. He knew that he was no longer the big, strong bodybuilder that he used to be, but he couldn't resist the temptation to flex his remaining muscles for James. James noticed Julian's cock hardening so he took it out of Julian's shorts. Julian lets out a moan, overwhelmed with the pleasure he's feeling. James puts Julian's 7 inch cock in his mouth, giving him the blowjob of his life. "Ugh James please, I'm gonna cum" Julian mutters but James goes faster. Julian moans as he is overwhelmed until he finally cums. James made sure to swallow everything Julian releases. As he does, Julian's body contracts, his limbs shortening. The opposite happens to James as he seemingly grows taller. James stands up and props Julian against a wall, Julian was now the shorter of the two, facing James's chest. James faces Julian to the opposite direction and inserts his 4 inch cock into Julian's ass. He starts pounding Julian hard while rubbing Julian's 7 incher. "I'm gonna have to take this too" James whispers to Julian's ear as he jacks off Julian's member. They moan and moan until they are almost at climax. "Please, just let me cum" Julian begs. "Not until I do!" James objects. As James thrusts harder and harder, he feels his dick growing while Julian's shrinks. Finally, James reaches orgasm and cums into Julian's hole. He pulls out and Julian falls on the ground, but James is to busy admiring his new 8 incher to notice. All that Julian was able to do was whimper as his shrunken cock uncontrollably cums and he watches James walk away. "Thanks for the time... and the bonuses. See you in class, I guess" James says as he puts on Julian's clothes which are now a little tight on him and leaves. In the end, Julian was left with nothing. He was a shell of his former self, a once-powerful heartthrob of an athlete reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. James, on the other hand, was bigger and stronger than ever before, his muscles bulging with power and strength. Julian knew that he had lost the battle for strength and power. But even as he felt defeated, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pleasure and desire at the thought of James' huge, powerful muscles.

Longtime reader, first time posting. PART ONE Growing up, I never questioned how my Dad was so immense. I just always remember him being huge. Even in my earliest memories he was a veritable mountain. I know kids tend to exaggerate, but my Dad was absolutely massive. In our family album, he towers over everyone else. He doesn’t have his full beard yet, just some stubble on his lantern jaw. His chest hair isn’t the bear’s pelt it would later become. In the photo, we’ve moved into our house and dad is just in a stringer tank top. The photo’s just a grainy, yellowed polaroid, but still I can see the uncompromising mass in his arms, his bicep bigger than mom’s head, a finger-thick vein running down the middle, his forearms like Christmas hams. And there I am, a toddler perched on his broad shoulder. He’s got a hand on my hip to hold me there and it’s practically the size of my whole torso. Dad is 23 in the photo but already pushing 300 lbs. I’m ashamed to say I never remember him being this...small. All my memories of him are great. For his colossal size and strength, he was a caring and doting dad. His rumbling baritone was comforting instead of frightening, and he never raised his voice to Mom and I. He was quick to smile and laughed easily. Though he had a full-time job and spent most of his free time in his gym, he always found the opportunity to play with me. He’d help me build a fort in the woods and then take up the entire thing with his tremendous body. He’d read me adventure stories while I drifted to sleep on his broad chest. In one of my favorite games he’d pretend to be a bear. Snarling, he’d go shirtless, his chest and forearms covered in brown hair, and chase me about the house on all fours. I’d hit him on the head, which somehow tamed the bear, and then I’d ride on his back until bedtime. It was my favorite game until I discovered The Incredible Hulk. Dad went along as I painted my room green, covered it in posters, bought all the toys, and even talked Dad into painting himself green for my Hulk-themed birthday party. His only condition was that he’d keep his beard. I still remember a friend’s little sister crying as Dad lumbered over, gave a most muscular pose, and growled. I really can’t blame her. I was 8, so at 29, Dad must have been 6’7” and 450 lbs. His chest could stop a car and his arms resembled great knotted ropes like those used on ships. Dad’s neck was bullish and even when fully relaxed, I could spot a vein popping from it. As a kid, I just assumed all dads were gigantic. Didn’t all dads devour 20,000 calories a day? Didn’t all dads have to buy new clothes twice a year to accommodate their swelling muscles? Most of Dad’s friends were powerfully built muscle men (I would later learn he slept with half of them). I just thought that’s what men looked like. I remember going to a friend’s house and meeting my best friend’s dad, a thin wisp of a man, whom I mistook for an older brother. It blew my mind. Meanwhile, the friends I invited over were always awestruck at my dad’s sheer size and strength, something I took for granted. There were moments of jealousy as my friends flocked to him instead of me, but I soon realized I could show my dad off like a new toy. Five fifth-graders would dangle from his one extended arm. They’d ask him to crush watermelons or burst out of a shirt and he’d happily oblige. Most of the town knew my Dad (there were only a few thousand people and how could you miss a man of his stature?), but it wasn’t long before every boy in my school was talking about him like an action hero or football star. I admit I made a lot of friends that year. I did notice certain things, but I didn’t realize how strange they were until years later. For example, once a year Dad would disappear into a black van and be gone for a week. Mom always said he went to the hospital, but the men in black suits and sunglasses who ushered him into the van never looked like doctors to me. When Dad returned he would always, always be bigger and over the next few weeks he would fill out even more. He’d arrive on the doorstep with a big smile, his tank top and jeans reduced to ribbons, his toes poking out of his socks, his sneakers gone. At 10, I remembered Mom screaming in shock once she saw him. He was a few inches taller and his shoulders wider. He must have packed on over a hundred pounds. His delts, triceps, and traps looked like huge bags of flour. Freakish biceps pressed into his pecs, which were now the size of couch cushions. His quads were as big around as the trees in our yard, and his calves were bigger around than most men’s waists. Seeing him grow every year was second only to Christmas for me, but I’d have to wait before he showed me his gains. The day he came home I’d always have to go play in the yard or at a friend’s house. That was “mom and dad” time. “Mom and dad” time was right after I went to school, most days at noon when Dad would come home on his lunch break, and then at night. My parents weren’t particularly strict, but this was the one thing they couldn’t bend on. I was not to be in the house. Even at 10, I didn’t know what they did. I had my hunches, of course. Kids on the bus talked about it. It was some kind of wrestling. Now Mom was a powerhouse in her own right. She wasn’t a bodybuilder herself but she’d played rugby and volleyball in college. A friend called Mom “stacked,” which I think meant she lifted weights. In any case, she could keep up with Dad, or at least she did at first. Knowing what I know now, I can’t begin to imagine how they did the deed. I’d seen him getting out of the shower before he wrapped the towel around himself. Everything was proportionate: that is to say beyond human proportions. Maybe it was great at first. They did make me after all. I’d see her feel his arms and the look they gave each other was something I couldn’t describe at the time, but as he grew and grew and grew, it must have become too much. He needed release more often. Dad always made noises during those times, the same noises he made while working out, but over the years they became louder and more animalistic until my windows began to rattle and I thought we were having a small earthquake. One day I saw him pulling their giant bed frame to a dumpster. It was in pieces. So was a dresser and a nightstand. Things fell apart when I was 15. We’d moved to an enormous new house with vaulted ceilings, castle-sized doors, a huge yard, five refrigerators, a pool, and a basement that Dad would convert to a gym. As a teenager, I never wondered where the money came from to buy it all. I wouldn’t find out for years. Dad and I loved the place but Mom could only force a smile when I showed her how Dad wouldn’t have to duck to get through the door anymore. They started eating and sleeping in separate rooms. When Mom picked me up from school and explained her and Dad were getting a divorce, I was disappointed but not shocked. I didn’t blame her back then and still don’t. She didn’t expect her husband to triple in size. She hadn’t signed up for this. At that point, Dad was a goddamn behemoth: 7’4” and 900 lbs. His shoulders were four feet wide but the way his arms stuck out, his triceps pushed that to five feet. He started measuring his biceps in three digits, and it was a miracle he could even bend his arm. Even relaxed, those biceps resembled beach balls. One day, Dad accidentally tore the door off his truck. I remember him standing there dumbfounded, holding it as if it were lighter than a sheet of styrofoam. It took him less than a week to landscape our yard. He ripped a dead maple tree out of the earth like it was a weed, and he rolled boulders across the yard like soccer balls. How could a woman sleep with a man that powerful four or five times a day? Believe it or not, I think there was a lot Dad held back. Because once she left, his growth went into overdrive. Maybe “hospital” injections were more potent or maybe Dad had given himself permission to go all in? Whatever the reason, he quit his job as a construction foreman and devoted himself to growth. Every day a whole car full of groceries was delivered to our doorstep. Whey powders and supplements filled an entire wall of our walk-in pantry. No gym was enough of a challenge, so he had to build his own. A dozen construction buddies helped him weld a series of machines that looked like medieval torture devices: the benches were as wide as a double mattress, the weights went up to 15,000 lbs. They had to reinforce the house’s foundation. Even then finishing a set could make the ground rumble. Half a block away a car alarm would go off. Dad channeled all his sadness and frustration from the divorce into working out. He smiled less and hardly went into town, but he still participated in my life as best he could. He was ecstatic when the high school football team picked me as linebacker. Even now I chuckle at the memory of this 7 ½ foot colossus, shirtless and painted in our school colors, cheering me on at our games. I’d have friends over to the pool and half the talk centered on how gargantuan my Dad had become, especially a crotch that practically hung to his knees. “Your Dad could sit in his bedroom and fuck a chick in China,” and all that sort of thing. I laughed it off, trying to hide how conflicted I felt. Truly, I loved my Dad. I admired him and he was a great friend. But ever since puberty, something felt wrong. Friends would pass around copies of Hustler or pull up porn on their phones, but it never did much for me. While I used to stare in awe at my Dad’s column-like legs and the contours of his teardrop quads, I now cleared my throat and forced myself to look away from his dense, rotund glutes as he walked by. He’d lean over to check my homework and I’d seize up as his bare chest caressed the back of my head. Our playful wrestling came to a halt. We had the best gym imaginable downstairs but I always exercised at school, afraid the sight of my hulking beast of a dad, all pumped and sweaty would make me spray my gym shorts. We hung out less and less. I’m sure Dad assumed I was being an aloof teenager or perhaps still hung up on the divorce. We never said anything, but he gave me the space I needed. I couldn’t help but worry I was breaking his heart. Of course, I was growing, too. Looking in my bathroom’s full length mirror, I could see the beginning of my Dad’s thick jaw. I was 6’0” and 190 lbs with a stocky, muscular build. I was bulking, so the outline of summer abs had vanished, but that was fine. I was after mass. I had pubic hair but nothing on my chest or jaw. I was huge for a high school junior, but I longed for real growth. I wanted to be a leviathan like Dad. He went through so many tank tops, it was easy to take one without him noticing. The damn thing could have been a tent on me. It hadn’t been washed and some nights I would drape it over myself, breathing in Dad’s musk, imagining my naked body hulking out enough to fill the shirt, maybe even tear it. There were other guys I fancied in school. Being on the football and wrestling teams, I got to see all the biggest men working out, stripping down, washing themselves. We all jerked off together, never thinking anything of it. I don’t want to come across as vain, but because I was big for my age I got a lot of attention. Behind the bleachers, the quarterback and I sucked each other off after practice. During wrestling season, everyone was popping boners. After pinning a particularly strong guy, I realized I was raging hard. So was he. He was leaking through his lycra. Luckily the coach was distracted. We drove to my opponent’s house that night and repeated a version of our match. After watching people rub my Dad’s bulging muscles, it was strange to have someone do the same for me. Especially, since I was a toothpick next to him. In the midst of passion, my wrestler friend moaned how big my cock was. It was only ten inches, I thought. I’m ashamed to say I always thought of Dad during sex. My friends were hot, but I was always comparing their anatomy to Dad’s. It’s not fair, I know, but I couldn’t help it. When I finished on my wrestler friend’s chest, I imagined it was Dad’s mountainous pecs. I pictured them shredding out of his tank top, the striations dancing in each lobe, a forest of dark hair trapping the sweat, and the saucer-sized nipples pointing at his feet. Then I imagined my dick disappearing in his cleavage. I spent whole days locked in my room just beating off over and over, Dad’s old tank top pressed to my nostrils. I pictured him lifting the entire house, his cock rock hard as he crushed his truck into a ball of shrapnel no bigger than my head. Things only got worse after that year’s injection. With no wife to come home to, he spent a week with his construction buddies. No one will admit where the orgy took place, but we didn’t have to look far. No one was buying the “industrial accident” at a work site out of town. The explanation kept changing for how all those steel beams were bent, how entire concrete walls were leveled, and how half the surrounding trees were felled like in a hurricane. These were hundred year oaks, too. The place had a pungent ocean smell for days. Afterward, all the biggest, brawniest men in town were walking funny, though each and every one of them feigned ignorance. That whole week I couldn’t stop theorizing how much he’d grown. Each growth spurt was bigger than the last. Two hundred pounds? Three hundred? Maybe a few inches of height? The anticipation was unbearable. I felt like a little boy counting down the days before a trip to Disneyland. Bigger and bigger shipments of food had arrived in his absence and I’d spend hours putting it away. I was hoisting half sides of beef in our walk-in freezer when a knock came at the front door. I hesitated when I saw it rattle. This door was ten feet tall, six wide, and nearly a foot thick. Mom and I struggled to open and close it. From the way it shook, there must have been a battering ram on the opposite side. I opened it and couldn’t believe what I saw. A set of hairy deep-cut abs stared me in the face. I had to look up to see Dad’s colossal chest. Wider than a car, it bulged two feet over those abs. I could have buried an arm between those pecs. They rose and fell with his breath. His saucer-sized nipples were all but lost in the dense pelt of hair that now coated his stomach and shoulders. I say shoulders, but those delts were more like wrecking balls. His freakish arms hung at 45 degree angles, pushed out by lats that nearly started at his waist. Dad’s biceps were just as big as his delts, bigger even. They pushed into his pecs, fighting for space. A brachial vein thicker than my wrist snaked down the middle of his guns, and even relaxed, each head was prominent. His hairy forearms were two feet across at the widest point, covered in a lattice of veins. His hands put the Incredible Hulk’s to shame. They radiated strength. I could see them ripping train engines apart. Dad’s bare feet were just as immense, the soles caked in dirt from walking through fields and woods. It was a miracle there weren’t cracks in the front step. His calves should have been called bulls. I’m certain they were wider than a probodybuilder’s quads. Oh yes, quads. Dad’s were outlandishly developed, but I couldn’t appreciate them because they were so damn big they pushed forward his monstrous manhood and that’s where all my focus went. Look, I knew my Dad was hung, but this was something else entirely. Had they used a gamma ray on this crotch? A stretched and tattered jockstrap struggled to contain a mass that hung to his knees. Pumpkin-sized balls peeked from the open sides of the jock, so heavy they tugged the underwear down and exposed the base of Dad’s penis, itself obscured in a jungle of pubes. Alarmed, dumbstruck, and horny beyond belief, I looked up at Dad’s face and realized it too had changed. His neck had pretty much been swallowed up by his traps, though I could spot some tendons like steel cables. Stubble covered the majority of it. Dad’s hair was longer, shaggier, and though his beard was full, I could see his jaw had grown wider, bulkier. His cheekbones were more pronounced, too, not a ridiculous amount, but enough to give him a brutal, hypermasculine look. Though when he smiled, he still retained that friendly and loving demeanor. Always the gentle giant. “What’d’ya think, kiddo?” his bass boomed, deep and gravelly.

I Conocí a mi handyman un día que estaba tomando un café. Me senté junto a la ventana y vi llegar un camión enorme. El brazo del conductor asomaba afuera y el brazo mas enorme que hubiera visto en mi vida. Con unos músculos gigantes, unos hombros redondos y fuertes llenos de tendones. El tamaño de ese brazo y la definición de esos músculos me hicieron pensar en un hombre enorme, pero nada comparado con lo que vi después. Era un mastodonte de músculos, tenía una espalda del tamaño de una puerta y detrás de su cuello se abultaban unos dorsales tan anchos que hacían pensar en alas. Llevaba una remera suelta y gastada que con el viento mostraba el cuerpo increible que había debajo. Parecía tener mi edad, quizás un poco menos, pero debía estar alrededor de los treinta años. Al lado del resto de los hombres parecía un monstruo gigante, su pecho era tan grande que estiraba la tela. Llevaba un jean roto y gastado que marcaba sus piernas gigantes. Todo en su cuerpo emanaba una fuerza descomunal. No pude quitarle la vista de encima, cada movimiento que hacía era una maravilla musculosa. Del camión bajó unas cajas que nadie más podía bajar. Eran enormes y pesadas, pero él las movía como si no pesara nada. Al final todos lo aplaudieron, le hacían chistes por el tamaño descomunal de su cuerpo. Esto a él le causó gracia y antes de irse levantó los brazos y flexionó ambos biceps para que admiraran el tamaño de su cuerpo. Era una cosa increible. Ni bien se fue, pagué y crucé la calle. Me acerqué a los hombres sin decir nada y me quedé viendo mi celular. Escuché que hablaban de Fabricio. Ese era su nombre. Al parecer además de trabajar como transportista, también era electricista. —¿Electricista? —pregunté—. ¡Necesito un electricista! Así fue como conseguí su número. El día que vino a casa hacía más de treinta grados. Tanto afuera como adentro hacía un calor infernal. Yo me había pedido el día en el trabajo dado que él solo tenía disponible el mediodía. Cuando tocó el timbre corrí a abrir. La sombra que proyectaba su gigantesco cuerpo me hizo pensar en un eclipse. Era mucho más grande de lo que recordaba, tanto que tuve miedo. Me sacaba más de dos cabezas y tuvo que agacharse para pasar por la puerta. Cuando nos dimos la mano fue como si un gigante tomara la mano de un bebé. Su antebrazo era mas grande que mis piernas y encima de eso asomaban unos tubos tan enormes que tuve que respirar por la boca para que me llegara el oxígeno a la cabeza. Fabricio se enderezó y golpeó techo con la cabeza. —Perdón —dijo. —No pasa nada —le respondí—, no es una casa para alguien tan alto como vos. Pero en verdad hubiera querido decir: para alguien tan enorme como vos. —Me pasa seguido —dijo agachándose un poco lo cual le daba un aspecto todavía mas grande por alguna extraña razón. Le comenté mi problema. Necesitaba cambiar toda la instalación de luz, los cables eran demasiado finitos para soportar toda la tensión eléctrica. Le mostré la casa y me dijo un número. No era caro, incluso me pareció bastante barato. Le dije que si y le pregunté cuando podía empezar, me dijo que si lo esperaba podía ir a comprar las cosas en ese momento y le dije que si. Cuando volvió estaba todo transpirado de solo caminar bajo el sol. La remera se le pegaba a sus increibles músculos. Se puso a trabajar de inmediato y dado que era el mediodía no se me ocurrió mejor idea que ofrecerle algo de comer. Traje dos sanguches enormes y le di uno. Me senté a mirar como ese cuerpo inmenso y musculoso trabajaba en mi casa. —¿Es suficiente para vos? —le pregunté—. Digo, sos muy grande, si querés mas comida tengo. Terminó de comer el sanguche y se limpió la boca con la remera. Cuando la levantó puede ver la escultura de músculos que escondía debajo. Nunca había visto un hombre así, parecía tallado en piedra. —Gracias, pero con esto tiro. Además es mi segundo almuerzo, todavía me falta uno más. —¿Tres almuerzos? —Hay que alimentar este cuerpo —dijo y flexionó su brazo. Por poco me morí ahi mismo. El tamaño de sus músculos era irreal, lo mismo que su definición. —Wow —dije haciéndome el boludo—, ¿entrenás mucho? —No —dijo para mi sorpresa—, siempre fui musculoso. De chiquito, a los doce ya tenía bastantes músculos y ya era el hombre más fuerte del barrio. Después solo fui creciendo y mis músculos crecieron mas y mas. Y ahora soy asi. Los médicos decían que solo era muy musculoso y nada más. —Y tienen razón —dije mirándolo de arriba a abajo— ¿Pero no vas al gimnasio ni nada de eso? —Voy, pero de vez en cuando. A veces tengo ganas de hacer fuerza y voy. Cuando tenés músculos tan grandes como yo te dan ganas a veces de ver cuan fuerte sos —dijo y flexionó ambos brazos. —Y me imagino que sos muy fuerte. —No te das una idea —dijo con una sonrisa—. Debo ser entre 10 y 20 veces mas fuerte que cualquier otro hombre. Mirá el tamaño de mis brazos —dijo y los flexionó mientras se los miraba—. ¿Alguna vez viste unos brazos como estos? —Sos enorme. —Y eso porque no viste mi pecho —dijo y con un movimiento lento se sacó la remera. Fue el movimiento más impresionante que vi en mi vida. Por suerte tenía una mesa que me protegía de que él viera mi erección. —Con el tiempo lo que más me creció fue el pecho. Cada vez lo tenía más y mas grande, hasta que me fue dificil encontrar remeras. ¿Alguna vez viste a un hombre con un pecho tan grande? —Wow. —Jaja, si, tengo los musculos muy grandes. Flexionó todo su cuerpo y pude ver como cada parte se inflaba dándole un aspecto todavía más grande. —Y eso que no me viste después de entrenar. Cuando voy al gimnasio termino gigante, cada músculo se vuelve el doble de grande. Después siguió trabajando mientras yo miraba su espalda gigantesca trabajar y moverse en mi casa. Sus brazos eran irreales, montañas de músculos que se inflaban con cada movimiento. —Lo mejor es para conseguir minas —continuó—, a las minas les encantan los hombres musculosos. Se vuelven locas. Cuando voy a los boliches no tengo que hacer nada, se me acercan solas y me empiezan a tocar todos los músculos a pedirme que flexione los brazos. La ultima vez que fui me llevé cuatro minas a mi casa. Fue una fiesta. —Wow... —Si, además no solo tengo los músculos enormes —dijo y me guiñó un ojo. Siguió trabajando mientras yo hacía un esfuerzo por pensar que preguntar. —Lo único que no me gusta de ser tan enorme es cuando se te ponen a mirar esos viejos verdes. ¿Viste esos flacuchos que se calientan con tu cuerpo? Me miran el lomo que tengo y empiezan a pajearse mirando mi pecho y mis brazos. No tengo la culpa de ser tan enorme y fuerte. Y esos putos pajeros te miran como si imaginaran garchando con ellos. Me pasa todo el tiempo. Ademas son unos enanos a los que podría matar con solo apretarles el cuello. Lo que mas les calienta es mi pecho —dijo mientras se tocaba uno de los gigantezcos pectorales—. Me ven el pecho enorme y duro y se empiezan a pajear. —Lo decís como si no te gustara ser musculoso. —¡Me encanta! —dijo y se dio vuelta para que pudiera ver su torso gigantesco—. Es genial ser así de enorme y tener estos músculos. Mirá esto, mirá el tamaño que tengo. ¿Alguna vez viste a alguien con un pecho tan grande? Las minas se vuelven locas. Se les moja toda la concha de solo verme las tetas. Además no vas a conocer a nadie tan fuerte como yo, soy mas fuerte que un toro. Mirame los brazos. Apuesto a que nunca viste a alguien con brazos asi. Mirá veni —dijo pero acercó él; era una torre gigante encima mío—. Apretame los brazos. Con ambas manos. Dale, apretá con fuerza. Mirá el tamaño de tus manos y de mi brazo. No llegás ni a tocarte los dedos. Apretá con fuerza. No podés ni apretar. ¿Sentís la fuerza que tengo? Y eso es solo mi brazo. Imaginate mis pectorales. Me encanta ser tan enorme y fuerte. Nadie se compara al tamaño que tengo. Soy un super hombre y estoy super fuerte. Las minas dicen que estoy todo tallado. Ja, y tienen razón. Mirá el lomo que tengo. Y eso que no viste mis piernas —dijo y se bajó los pantalones. Debajo asomaron las piernas mas enormes que hubiera visto en mi vida, llenas de musculos, redondas y cada una mas grande que mis dos piernas juntas. Debajo de su calzón descansaba una anaconda—. Mirá las piernas que tengo. Son dos bestias. Y la fuerza que tengo ahi es irreal. Puedo levantar lo que sea. Uf, estoy re fuerte. Boludo, mirá el tamaño de estos musculos. Esto es un hombre en serio. Soy una bestia. Necesito algo para hacer fuerza —dijo mientras flexionaba los brazos—. ¿Tenés algo pesado? Hace algunos días me habían traido el nuevo lavarropas. Y no había tenido tiempo de instalarlo. Ahí estaba, todavía vuelto. Pesaba más de ochenta kilos. —Veni que te muestro lo fuerte que estoy —y dijo así, lo fuerte que estoy. Levantó el lavarropas y empezó a hacer biceps. Sus brazos se inflaron hasta duplicarse en tamaño, pero de todos modos no parecía estar haciendo un verdadero esfuerzo. Perdí la cuenta después de que hizo mas de treinta y siguió y siguió mientras su cuerpo se inflaba y se inflaba. Estaba cada vez más grande. —Mirá el tamaño de estos músculos. Apuesto a que nunca viste un hombre tan musculoso. Soy una bestia. Después se acostó en el suelo y empezó a levantar el lavarropas haciendo pecho. Sus pectorales se inflaron hasta convertirse en dos sandías gigantes. Apoyó el lavarropas y levantó los brazos flexionando los gigantescos biceps que tenía. —Mirá este cuerpo. Mirá el pecho que tengo. Estoy re duro. Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos —dijo y se acercó para flexionar su brazo cerca de mi cara—. Mi brazo es mas grande que tu cabeza. Mirá lo grande que soy. Dale, tocá. Sentí lo fuerte que estoy. Así fue como conocí a mi Handyman.

Found this universe hot so I thought I would try to write a story in it chapter 1 Tyrone pov It has taken a few months but I finally got a sample of a more powerful strain of the virus out of the lab. I can’t believe I get to turn my lovable boyfriend into a god. I was so hard just thinking about it. I just keep thinking how he will react shocked scared happy just a few more turns before I get home. I still can’t believe the world Changed so much In just a few months. Randomly men and some women (I believe it is called H.E.R.S then ) grew into sexy virile giants and if my calculations are correct due to rays weaker immune system he will tower over them. I see him making dinner for us as I walk in. “Hey babe what are you making” I ask hugging him from behind “ I was craving some meat so I kinda made a bunch of meat dishes so we could have some left overs too” he kisses me before finishing what he was doing and I’m just smiling knowing there is no way there will be left overs as that hug just infected him. we start eating and i just slowly eat as I see him devouring more and more food his clothes growing tight but he’s to hungry to notice. “More” he roars as he clears the table so I bring out the advanced nutritional formula that I had stored away for this moment he downs one after another as he shoots past 15 feet still not done he keep eating and drinking more and more till he hits 18 feet and stops for now. “Babe what did you” do he says as I cum at the sight of him

New story I'm really excited about. Been thinking up this one for a while Chapter 1 “Oh my God, there’re back.” I usually listen to music at the gym, but when I go with my best friend Emily we talk to take our minds off of the burning sensation we feel in our legs while we use the ellipticals. Immediately as I looked straight ahead I knew what she was talking about; the men’s rugby team. How could you miss them? There were about 12 of them entering the gym, each with a different body shape but with the same identifying feature: they were fucking big. Their powerful legs jutting out of the short shorts they wore pulsed with every step, and their heaving arms swayed by their sides as they sauntered over to the machines. The best part yet: Their lack of definition. They were blobs of men, packed with muscle but with a cover of fat all over them from the tremendous amount of food they eat each day. They were everything I wanted to be. “Wow, I’m so thankful the rugby season started up again,” I said while unable to take my eyes off the asses of some of these men. “Right?!” Emily said in response. “You should talk to them, maybe some of them play for the same team!” She hinted at my sexuality. I nervously laughed and brushed the idea away, but the thought of talking to one of these animals was enough to make my mouth water. I’d probably have a heart attack if one of them even looked at me. After a grueling 30 minutes, we were finally finished with our cardio and exited the gym. Along the way, I couldn’t help myself and took several peeks at the team, working out, walking, and even just standing there. My heart was beating even faster than it was during the cardio session. One in particular caught my eye; he had piercing blue eyes and seemed more defined than the rest. His arms, still massive, had several lines in them, moving while he was spotting a much bigger man who was bench pressing near him. “See you again tomorrow?” I asked Emily. Even though the quarter had just started, I knew I needed to get on top of going to the gym this year. Even though I’m not fat, I still have some excess belly fat I want to get rid of to get that flat, clean stomach I’ve been craving for so long. “Nah, sorry. Tomorrow’s my busy day with classes, but maybe Thursday will work!” “Ok, I’ll text you to let you know when I’m free!” Later in my dorm, the thought of the muscle mean roaming around the gym penetrated my mind time and time again. God, just how they stood, with all the muscle and mass they had accumulated hanging off of their bodies stunned me. I thought about the man with blue eyes that had caught my eye again, and how lean he was. He was truly a major goal for me in my fitness life. I went to bed, hoping that one day I would look even remotely like that, or at least have a boyfriend of that size. I’d kill for it. The next day, I woke up with the men on my mind. “It’s probably just a phase,” I reassured myself. I went through various things I couldn’t stop thinking about, for the obsession to end around 2 weeks later. This will be over soon. As I came back from brushing my teeth, the clip on our door had a new addition to it, adding to the list of promotional flyers, events, and clubs that it seemed everyone was trying for us to join. As I looked closer, it was for none other than joining the men’s rugby team. God, could they read my mind? My first thought was to just throw it away as someone of my size of 170 lbs at 5’10 could never make it among the ridiculously jacked men of the team, but decided to ask my roommate Ryan about it. “Oh, yeah, I saw that! They have an info session today at 7pm, I might go to that just to see if I’m interested.” I was surprised that Ryan, while no bigger than I am, was even interested in seeing what the team was all about. He was about the same size as me, and went to the gym somewhat often. I think he went into the weights section instead of chickening out and doing cardio like me, but I never knew he could be serious about bulking up. “Are you going?” “Um, maybe. I have to see if I’m busy.” The idea of me going went from a hard no to a possible yes as I considered all the possibilities about the meeting. I mean, going doesn’t mean an automatic sign-up, which I couldn’t possibly do because of the men on the team. I would be intimidated way too quickly, and I knew myself well enough to know I would be distracted all the time. Going to the meeting, would, however, mean that I would get to stare at these hunky men talk for an hour. Fine, I’ll go. As it neared 7pm, I told Ryan that I would go, to which he was excited about. We walked together to the meeting about 10 mins away from our dorm. “God,” I thought, “If I have to walk this far this better be good.” Not only was the meeting “good,” but it caused the biggest shift in attitude and personality I had ever gone through.

Alpha Fitness Waking up to another day, Jeff pulled himself out of bed. His weak frame hunched over in the morning light. Getting dressed, his small shirt still somehow baggy on him. Eating half a banana, Jeff walked to school, the weight of his backpack slowing him down. His unkempt hair fluttered in the breeze as he rushed to get through the door, 2 minutes until the bell rang. Turning around to the blasting of a horn, Jeff caught a glimpse of Travis’s truck peel into the parking lot. That dumb jock was always late but nobody dared say anything to him. Not wanting to run into him, Jeff ran to his first class, mathematics. Having been a brainy rather than brawny kid, Jeff always excelled in math, the sciences, and other academic-forward courses. He tried to enjoy the class, but he could sense the looming of last period, gym. The bane of every unathletic student. It wasn’t Jeff’s fault, he tried several times to put on weight, working out, taking supplements. He couldn’t even put on weight in the heavy sense, he was stuck being the human equivalent of a twig. It wouldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t constantly tormented by Travis and his giggling bimbo of a girlfriend, Stacey. Much to his chagrin, the bell rang, and he had to go to gym. He had tried to get out of it several times in the past, sometimes successful, more so unsuccessful. By now, the gym teacher had caught on to Jeff’s goals and warned that the next time he missed a class without being in the hospital, he would fail. He tried to get there early so that he could at least change before Travis got there, but even from the hallway he could hear the jock’s bassy laughter echoing. Entering the locker rooms, Jeff was met by Travis’s broad shoulders and mountain-like back. The massive jock was blessed with all the pleasantries of nature. He was 6’5”, 320-something pounds, quite hairy for his age, and of course, blessed with an oversized manhood. The hulking jock turned around, his bearded face grinning with evil delight. “Bout time you showed up little Jeff. I was gonna tell the coach on you, but having you here is that much better.” He grinned and stood in front of Jeff. Only 5’6”, Jeff was staring directly at the monster’s midsection. Looking up at his massive pecs, or down at his bulging package yielded no comfort. “Hey Jeff, let’s play a game. If I show you my dick and yours is bigger, you live. If not, you die.” Jeff was frozen. Everyone in the school knew of Travis’s legendary package. There was even a rumor that he only passed the 8th grade cause he boned his English teacher. Even back then he was known for being well hung. Looking Jeff in the eye, Travis peeled off his boxer briefs, his massive package flopping out. Two huge bull nuts, each the size of oranges, stretching out his hairy sack. His thick horsecock, probably 8-9 inches soft, the huge fleshy snake twitching. The massive cockhead flaring larger. “You fuckin seeing this bro? What you got down there? A thimble? Me, I got 9 fuckin inches of soft horsecock, fuckin 13 inches when it’s rock hard.” Travis yanked down Jeff’s airy shorts, his 2 inch softie barely visible. “BAHAHA! That’s what you call a cock? This is a real man’s cock. Holding it in his hand, Travis shook his hardening dick around, the thickening shaft becoming too thick for his palm. “Fuckin need two hands to hold this thing! Fuck, just one of my nuts is bigger than your whole package, if you even call that a package!” Travis proceeded to peel off his 4xl shirt, his massive muscular pecs bulging out, a heavy dusting of hair covering each one. He flexed his massive guns, each one 26 inches of power. “This. Is a fuckin’ man. Now fuck off, I gotta go take care of this horsecock.” Jeff sat down on the bench, his shoulders hunched over. He knew gym was starting and that he was going to have to face the wrath of Coach Davis. He just couldn’t get it out of his mind. He was puny, and Travis was a walking beefcake with a porn star dick and too much testosterone. He just wished he could be more of a man. After school, Jeff drove to the store to get a new pair of shorts to replace the ones Travis tore. He was looking through the store when he spotted a section he hadn’t seen before, ‘Alpha Fitness’. Walking through, he was taken aback by the pictures of models. Each one looked to be big as Travis, a few even bigger. All of the clothing sizes were bigger than 3xls, many going all the way up to 8xl. In the undergarment aisle, Jeff was blown away. Each of the models looked like they had stuffed a basketball in their shorts, and the sizes went all the way up to ‘Extra-Enhanced’. Feeling the excitement from seeing such sizes, Jeff wanted to buy a pair of clothes, just to imagine being that size. He got the smallest he could find, a pair of 3xl shorts, a comfy black sweatshirt, and a size ‘roomy’ pair of boxer briefs. Going to the changing rooms, Jeff tried on the clothes, his initial excitement dashed by seeing how much the clothes draped over him. He couldn’t even wear the underwear, the huge pair of boxers sliding off his hips, the pouch not even brushing his junk. At least the sweatshirt felt comfy, the fabric was very soft and he felt a strange warmth spread through him when he put it on. The massive neckhole nearly went over one of his shoulders, and the bottom hem went down to his knees. But it was still comfy, and he thought he would get it for sleeping in. He started taking it off when he noticed the shirt he was wearing underneath rose to show his abdomen. Normally it hung past his waist by an inch or two, but now it was starting to look like it fit him perfectly. He could feel a wave of excitement wash over him. He put the sweatshirt back on and tried to keep the underwear and shorts from falling off. He sat down for a bit, strolled around the changing room, feeling the tingling warmth spread through him again. Looking in the mirror, he looked taller! While the sweatshirt was still way oversized, it didn’t drape over him as much! Taking it back off, his original shirt was now too small, the hem now above his belly button! Looking down, he now saw the faintest lines of abs! Taking off the shirt, he flexed his arm and to his delight, a small ball of muscle came up! Putting his new clothes back on again, Jeff could feel the warmth return even stronger. He could almost see himself start to swell a little bit bigger, a little bit taller. Looking down, he could tell that he had grown a couple inches, his feet looked farther away, but bigger! Best he could guess, he was now 5’9 and 170 lbs of toned muscle. He kept the clothes on until a new excitement came over him. His dick was now touching the fabric. Dropping his shorts some, he couldn’t believe how much bigger his dick looked. It must’ve been 4 inches soft now! Even his balls looked bigger, approaching the size of ping pong balls! The warmth returned now even stronger, he could feel his arms gaining mass, his pecs felt bigger, he could flex them now! His abs looked more cut, and his thighs were now big enough to hold the clothes from falling! Looking at himself, he was probably close to 5’11 and 210 lbs now. The clothes still seemed too big for him, but he could tell it wouldn’t last much longer. The warming tingle returned, only this time he felt a prickling sensation over his body. Looking at himself in the mirror, the first thing he noticed was that his form looked as big as the other jocks at school! He wasn’t even close to Travis, but he looked like he played football for a while. Taking off his form-fitting sweatshirt, he was met by two big pecs, a cobblestone midsection, and most delicious of all, body hair! He was sprouting a noticeable treasure trail and even had a faint dusting on his chest. His armpit hair was thicker and his pubes were starting to bush out more. Speaking of, his dick looked much bigger now, probably 7 inches soft. It now hung over his tennis ball nuts and looked thick as a can of red bull. Checking himself in the mirror again, he looked like he fit the clothes perfectly, his bulky upper chest pushed out against the fabric perfectly, his thighs and bulging package were starting to stretch out his shorts. He guessed himself to be around 6’2 and 280 lbs. Going back into the aisle, he grabbed a 5xl sleeveless sweatshirt that said ‘Most Muscular’. He picked out a 5xl pair of grey sweatpants with an extra roomy crotch and a logo of a well-endowed guy sporting a massive dickprint. He also saw a pair of work boots with the slogan ‘Real men work outdoors’, the logo had a seriously ripped lumberjack with a thick beard and a forest of chest hair. Lastly, he picked out a pair of ‘enhanced’ boxer briefs. Returning to the changing room, he quickly changed into all the new clothes, taking a moment to admire the naked hunk he’d become. Strolling with his longer gait, Jeff finally felt the warmth return. He watched as his body stretched a little taller, his muscles bulking larger as he grew. He could feel his extra-sensitive cockhead brush past the fabric as it grew longer. His face prickled, soon sporting sideburns, then a shaggy beard, and finally, a thick beard that grew longer as he grew taller. His chest felt similarly itchy as he could feel long brown hairs cover his growing pecs. He saw as his engorged biceps ballooned bigger, soon surpassing 28 inches. By the time he looked in the mirror, he nearly came. Staring back at him, he must’ve been 6’7, 380 lbs. His lantern jaw sported a thick brown beard, his telephone-pole thick neck had stubble going down to his massive chest. His pecs sprouted a carpet of brown hair that pushed out the collar. His sleeveless sweatshirt exposed his broad shoulders, his massive guns flexing at him. His engorged forearms were covered in silky brown hair. Down below, his cobbled abs and thick treasure trail lead to his skin tight sweatpants. His thickening pubes started to pour over the waistband. His tree trunk thighs stretching out the fabric, pulling it taut over his massive dickprint. His shaft was as thick as a wine bottle, easily a foot soft. His massive bull nuts looked to be the size of cantaloupes. The massive weight of his package pulling the waistband down further to reveal the base of his thick cock and huge bush. His work boots felt tight, unlacing them as he allowed his huge dogs to grow out more, he could feel his toes stretch wider. Returning to the aisle, he garnered looks from everyone else. Now tall above the shelves, his massive bearded face and enormous frame demanding attention. Not to mention the huge dickprint he was now sporting. He searched the racks, pulling out a huge 8xl tank top with the words ‘ALPHA’ written across the front. He found a pair of pants that could fit four men. On the bottom shelf, a pair of work boots, size 24 with a logo that just said ‘BEAST’ on them. And lastly, a huge pair of nylon boxer briefs, ‘Extra enhanced alpha junk only’ written on the tag, the massive neon waistband saying ‘ALPHA’ on it, the enormous puch billowing like a garbage bag. His heartbeat racing, Jeff returned to the changing room. His enlarged size was already tight in the cramped space. He quickly changed into all the new clothes. Expecting the ensuing growth, he returned to the aisles. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a mirror, but he could feel the growth. His massive feet stretched to fit into the super size boots, his massive toes getting crunched by the steel toe. His calves ballooned, bigger than watermelons. His thighs surpassed redwoods as they swelled thicker. He had to alter his stance to accommodate their width. His cobblestone abs enlarged, cutting deeper, his massive obliques bulging out. His enormous pecs ballooned out, swelling past the size of king pillows, stretching his tank top to the limit. The straps cut deep into his engorging traps, they rose up to his ears. His shoulders broadened, probably 7 feet across. His biceps swelled up bigger than watermelons, their pumped size making it so his arms went out at a 45 degree angle. His massive forearms and hands swelled bigger, his grip strengthening. His limbs were covered in thick hair, the fur spreading and thickening on his midsection. His ballooned chest sprouted a shag carpet of brown fur, his sensitive nipples poking into the fabric. Down below, his already massive package swelled bigger and bigger. His alpha junk was ballooning longer and thicker. His bull nuts swelled to the size of pumpkins, their huge weight stretching out his sack, their contents sloshing audibly. He had to step back to accommodate their growing size. They swelled bigger, each the size of a beach ball, their massive size soon too much for his sweatpants. The fabric tore off, leaving his accommodating pouch. His enormous horsecock swelled bigger and bigger. Too big to be considered a whale cock. The enormous shaft was now 5 feet soft, his massive cockhead big as a pumpkin, constantly leaking a stream of pre. Unleashing his enormous cock, Jeff stroked it, the massive shaft between his giant pecs. At the sight of everyone watching him, he exploded load after load of his hot cum all over the store. The next morning, Jeff walked to school, still wearing his tank top and pouch. Passersby, cars, even a bus seemed to stop and stare at him. He arrived at school and waited in the parking lot. His former classmates were staring at him from the windows. Right on time for his usual tardiness, Travis pulled in. Stopping his truck with one of his massive feet, Jeff pulled Travis out and onto the ground. The originally massive man paled in comparison to the now 8 foot tall alpha beast, currently weighing in at over 750 lbs of beef. “What’s the matter Travis?” Jeff chuckled in his thunderous base. “You wanna play a game?” Without waiting for an answer, Jeff tore off Travis’s sweatpants, his thick cock flopping out. “Aw, that’s cute Travis. But do you want to see what a real man looks like?” Jeff proceeded to tear off his pouch, releasing his swollen nuts and whale cock. “Haven’t really measured it, but I’m willing to bet it’s bigger than yours.” Travis was frozen on the ground. Running over to Jeff, Travis’s girlfriend Stacey tried to encircle her hands around Jeff’s muscles, feeling his biceps. Finally she tried, in vain, to stroke his massive cock. On cue, it stiffened up to its massive length of 8 feet, as long as he was tall. An involuntary squeal came from Stacey as she went to service his awaiting cock. Jeff looked down on Travis, a wicked grin spreading across his face at the horror in his eyes. Brought back by the growing climax at the base of his cock, Jeff shot gallon after gallon of cum into the air, his alpha seed raining down around them.

For those who need to catch up: Part 1 & 2 Part 3 & 4 Part 5 Part 6 Now for the continuation of College Hulk: Jonas finished up his last notes and headed back to the house. Hopefully, Steve would be done and they could go grab a bite to eat and talk through their dilemma. They needed to find out how they wound up in their room, what happened to Tony, the whole damn crazy ordeal. He got to the room and unlocked the door and opened it. There sat Steve and unexpectedly, Craig. They looked like they had been having quite the conversation. "Am I interrupting something?" Steve shook his head, "No, you got here just in time. We need to talk. Close the door" "No shit, Sherlock. What is Craig doing here?" Craig riled up a bit, "You don't have to talk like I'm not sitting right in front of you." "Sorry, but Steve and I have some...uh....things to talk about." Steve sighed, "Craig knows...he..." "WHAT?!? Why did you tell him?" "I didn't 'tell' him. He kind of...well he sort of....found ...out" Steve finished kind of weakly. Jonas shut the door then turned and glared at the two of them. "How, exactly....oh my God. Did you...I mean did it happen? In class?" "No not in class, exactly" Craig spoke up, "He went up and tried to flirt with Dr. Matthews. Somehow it triggered something and..." "I ran out of the class room. Said I was sick and went to the bathroom. You know that I have never changed in the present. I didn't know what was happening. " Craig continued, "I thought he was sick, which everyone else did as well and went to check on him. I walked into the bathroom and he was like turning into the Hulk! It was actually pretty freaking awesome" Steve looked pleadingly at Jonas, "Don't be mad at me, bro. I had to tell him at that point. I think we can trust him." Jonas sighed and sat next to Steve on the bed, "I guess it won't hurt to have someone else help us figure this out. But the two of you smell like spunk. Did you make out or something?" Steve smacked Jonas' head, "No, but you know what happens when the change is on....it's a bit uncontrollable." Craig laughed, "I'll say, he fired his cannon all over the bathroom I got it all over me and we had to clean the place up so no one would know." Jonas looked a bit concerned, "You got his spunk on you? Did you swallow any of it?" Craig looked embarrassed,"It's not like I could help it, ya know." "No, I'm not mad. Steve you remember what I told you about how I got like this?" "Yeah, but that was genetic from your Dad. This shouldn't hurt, just a little protein." Jonas shook his head, "I'm not real sure. That is one of the most highly chemically active areas of your body. Who knows how that will affect him." Craig laughed again, "So I grow a few muscles. That might be cool" Jonas shook his head again, "No, you still don't get it. We don't know what will happen. As you saw with Steve, the transformation itself is unpredictable and often uncontrollable. But who knows what will happen to you? What if you are driving somewhere and black out at the wheel because of a chemical imbalance this caused and you slam your car into someone and kill them?" That sobered the room up really quickly. Steve moved away from Jonas, "Dude, that was a pretty harsh statement. We don't know what will happen so let's not get carried away." Craig nodded, "Yeah, dude, ease up. Our real focus should be that ass Tony. Where did he get to? What is he up to?" ____________________________________________________________________________________ Sitting in the dark in his house, Tony smirked. Inside the smoke detector in Jonas and Steve's room he had rigged a tiny camera and microphone. They never even noticed. Now he could hear and see everything that the two guys were up to. What was with Craig now? That should be interesting to find out. If he could control the creatures he could do anything he wanted. He would have his Grandfather's hulk army at his beck and call. It obviously worked with Steve. He had listened closely to Steve and Craig talk before Jonas had returned. It was clear that the triggering device he had injected into Steve had worked. He had timed it for the middle of class for the ultimate humiliation. I guess he made it to the bathroom before anyone except Craig could see. Well, next time it might not be so fortunate for him. The dolt still thinks it was because he was turned on by his teacher. Hilarious. The only difficulty with the trigger device was it wasn't fully reliable. Too often he was losing signal on it. The metamorphosis blocked the signal altogether so he was completely out of touch until Steve was fully transformed. There were times, as well, where it seemed to not respond even when he had signal. He would have to try a new device that he could always control. He needed to control during the change. It would need to send signals to the brain so that he could have complete control of the creature and the transformation. His Grandfather would have been so proud. This would have been the ultimate army. He needed to get new devices ready for Jonas and possibly Craig now too. He smiled as he went to get a drink. This would be fantastic. He walked back to the laptop. But then gasped. They were gone. The door was still shut and locked. Jonas bag was on the bed where he had been sitting, but they just weren't there. He probed for the device in Tony, but there was nothing. Not even a weak signal. What was happening? _____________________________________________________________________________________ Craig had been about to offer up a decision to eat food when he felt the bed disappear from underneath him and he fell to the floor. He saw Jonas and Steve fall as well and they landed in the dirt. Wait, dirt? "What the hell???? What happened to our house? Did it just get vaporized or something?" Jonas was coughing from the dust he had kicked up his nose. Steve rolled over and sighed, "Not again" Craig's eyes went wide, "You mean we're" "Back in the 1950s" "HOLY SHIT!" Jonas sighed, "Like I keep telling you this whole thing is crazy. We can't predict this either or even understand why it happens." Steve got up and dusted himself off, "Well while you two keep playing in the dirt, I'm going to try to find out where and when we are exactly. This place doesn't look like the Army bunker." It didn't really look like anywhere. It was a clearing in a forest at best guess. But why here and now? Steve started what looked like an uphill direction. A few moments later he came back. "Hey, guys, there's a road up here and it looks like a town not too far. We can get some food, maybe" The three of them started towards the town, when Jonas stopped suddenly, "We have to be careful about money. They might think our stuff is counterfeit. I have a 10 but it is signed by James Baker, Secretary of the Treasury. Someone might get suspicious." "You worry too much, dude" Craig laughed "We can use our credit cards and they won't even know." This time Steve spoke up, "Craig, man, credit cards haven't been invented yet." "Oh shit." "Yeah, oh shit." said another voice behind them They spun around and saw Matt standing half naked in the shadow of the woods. "Well well well, if it isn't future boy and his friends" Steve glared at Matt but pushed Craig behind him, "Craig stay back from this nutcase" "OH..I'm a nutcase. I see. Why? Because I think I've been blessed and you treat it like it's a curse. " Steve said, "I like having muscle. I don't like losing control" "Why are you hiding your little friend, then? Worried he might become a monster too?" Jonas moved to stand next to Steve and block Craig from the taunting bully. Craig was athletic, but Steve and Jonas knew that if Matt hulked out he could kill Craig. Matt continued, "Hey little guy, they're holding out on you. This shit is awesome." Matt began to laugh. Then he gasped, but started laughing again. His eyes turned white and his voice began to deepen. "Heh, heh, You ....ughhhh....don't know what.....you are missing....ugghhh" Craig gasped as he saw between his friends this strangers arms swell up to impossible sizes. The man shuddered and gasped as already tattered clothes spread apart revealing a rapidly swelling body, that was beginning to turn green. "Fucking...ughhh....awe....awe...some..." Lats pushed out raising his arms up, Shoulders thickened like two boulders and spread apart. The thick traps rose up pushing against his thickening neck. There was a bursting sound as the tattered waist band of the jeans split and they fell to the ground. The 7 foot tall creature roared with laughter. The naked behemoth walked towards them, grinning evilly. Suddenly, he stopped and gasped again and his eyes rolled back in his head, then he smiled. Steve gasped, "Oh shit, he's figured out how to trigger the second phase" "Damn...riiiiiaaaaouuuuuurr" The creature yelled as the last word disappeared into a roar of pleasure. Thick green fur spread across his abs and chest which heaved outwards. The already gargantuan thighs grew to the size of oak tree trunks and the creature stumbled and dropped to all fours. They saw the back widen out like two wings on a massive glider boiling with thick bulging muscle, then fur raced down from the neck and covered the entire back as well. The creature lifted its head and they saw that a 5 o'clock shadow had sprouted and was thickening and deepening and soon he had a full beard. The creature gasped and groaned as more changes occurred. The thick fur covered pectorals swelled out even further as his butt boiled out to support the torso and helped to lift it back to its feet. Then from the impressive 8 foot height it smiled down at them and revealed long pointed canine teeth. "Oh my God! Matt what have you done?" Jonas yelled. The creature tried to speak but could only growl. That's when Steve noticed something else, "Dude, you have pointed ears!" Two meaty green fists reached up to touch them. The creature felt the tips of his ears and his eyes went wide with shock. He turned away in fear and they saw sticking out of his ass the half grown tail. Craig gasped, "Oh my God!" Steve laughed, "Yeah he's got a tail. He tried to use the dog to get his second phase and it backfired." Craig gasped again, "No." he panted a bit, "I feel funny" Jonas and Steve spun around eyes wide. Craig had his head down and they saw his curly red hair shaking. He lifted his head up and his white eyes stared back at them wide and his mouth gaping. Then they saw him thicken. Not like Matt, or even their own transformations. It was almost graceful. His body began to elongate and swell with muscle simultaneously. Craig's chest pushed forward and as his shirt ripped down the middle, they could see his pectorals push majestically out wards then point down towards his feet. His arms boiled outwards like they were inflating, but with muscle and not air. His sleeves ripped dramatically. Craig had a lost rapturous smile on his face as his neck thickened and massive traps lifted off of his widening and swelling shoulders. His back kept widening and pushing his arms away, then they heard the rupture of the denim as it could no longer contain the massive legs that were trying to break free. The shirt fell to the ground leaving the ginger monster with his pale skin exposed, then it began to turn green clashing with his red hair. Then green streaks spread through the red hair and then the whole head was green, except for a stripe down the middle left red as a tribute to Craig. Craig smiled at Jonas and Steve, then said in a hypnotically masculine voice, "He was right. This is awesome" Craig's 12 inch rod began to swell and rose to attention. The dog creature smiled and moved in towards his new playmate. Craig grasped Matt and hefted him in the air then put him down on the ground and began to hump him. Steve gasped, "Craig! Holy shit!" Craig turned and smiled, "You pussies hate this. Well, I....love....it" with each thrust into Matt by this incredibly strong hulking creature Matt gasped and became even more dog like. The tail continued to grow. Jonas pulled Steve back, "Hey dude, this is like the first time that neither of us changed here." Steve was still watching Craig push into Matt who finally shot a load all over the ground. Steve said, "I wouldn't be so sure." then he turned to face Jonas with his white eyes and a shit eating grin as the back of his shirt split open.