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  1. countmuscle

    Freshman Roommate (Part 5)

    Longer one, hope you enjoy! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 5: Summer break arrived, grim as a prison sentence. To be away from Frank for mere hours felt like torture. Especially now that I was a full-blown roid pig, and my sex drive was insatiable. How was I going to survive back home for three months? For his part, Frank was just as upset. He had to stay on campus for football training — same dorm room, no me. “Will you promise me something?” he asked on my last day, as we lay in bed together. I was tracing my fingers through the violent grooves of his eight pack. “Of course, what is it?” I was expecting him to ask me to remain faithful, to not mess around with other guys. Now that I looked like this, I attracted leers anywhere I went, from men and women alike. Everyone wanted me. But that’s not what Frank was talking about. “Don’t stop lifting and growing this summer,” he said. “I want to see you get even bigger. I want you to keep eating, keep cycling. Stay focused on muscle all summer. All day, every day. Come back even bigger than you are now. Come back so big, people will gasp when they see you. So big they won’t even recognize you. James, your body has already responded better than I had hoped. You’re a hunk now, but I can make you a freak. A muscle freak. So huge. We’ll make you so big. 290, maybe even 300 pounds. Oh my god bro... Fuck....Big as a pro bodybuilder. Bigger. The two of us. Waddling around campus. Fucking and fucking nonstop. Two muscle freaks. One tall, one short. Sex every hour. All that muscle. Muscle, sex. Roids. Fucking beasts. Huge. So huge. Muscle, big muscle, so strong, so much muscle, so much musc-- oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck James! I can’t handle it. Holy shit! UNHHHH!” Frank grabbed behind my neck with one huge hand, and stuck his tongue down my mouth forcefully. At the same moment, his dick sprayed a huge load without warning or even any touch. Rope after rope shot up and landed in Frank’s beard and on his veiny neck. I counted 8 ropes! All while he kissed me passionately -- almost desperately. This happened anytime Frank talked about my muscle growth. Nothing turned him on more, not even his own muscular development. The second he started to envision me growing bigger, he'd burn beet red, wheeze loudly. His eyes would unfocus and look manic. His cock would shoot up as fast as a soldier's salute. As a rule, he'd eventually devolve into muttering "muscle" over and over again, like an incantation, until he came spontaneously. These would always be his biggest loads (which is really saying something). Each time Frank spiraled like this, his fantasies got more extreme. First it was bulking me up to 230 pounds, now it was 300. Of course, I couldn't have been more turned on either. I loved watching him lose control like this. I also started to realize that these fantasies could actually become a reality. I was almost 19, and already 225 pounds. To become a genuine mass monster, even a professional bodybuilder, suddenly felt plausible, especially while Frank was around. Laying beside him, I stroked my bulging pecs, arms, shoulders, quads, glutes... I was still blown away by their size. I soon came a load almost as large as Frank's. His fantasy was now my reality, my goal. -- So I had my marching orders for the summer. I also had (thanks to Frank) a year's worth of tren packed in my suitcase. With a heavy heart, it was time for me to head home. We had one last, incredible fuck session. Then another one. Then another one. Then finally, realizing I was about to miss my flight, I called an Uber and dashed off. Frank's dry cum still coated me underneath my super-tight clothes. The aroma of his pits was on my face in the cab, which gave me a throbbing boner the entire ride to the airport. I was 5'9, 18 y/o, 225 pounds. Tight denim jeans tearing inside the crotch. Light blue college t-shirt so tight you could see every ridge of my abs, both my nipples, my thick upper pecs almost touching my chin. Whenever I glanced at my reflection in a mirror or window, I was astonished at how wide I looked -- and also how obscene. Like a bodybuilder in the first minute of a gay porno, wearing ridiculous, undersized clothes. Stares from every direction as I rushed through the airport to board my plane. The gay flight attendant did a double take when he welcomed me on board. For a second, his mouth was agape. I winked, and he went red. I knew I looked like a fantasy cooked up in a lab. I approached my seat. A small, nerdy kid with glasses my same age -- no doubt on his way home from college as well -- regarded me with terror. I weighed a hundred pounds more than him, even though we were about the same height. As I stretched to stow my bag in the overhead bin, my tight shirt left my slightly hairy, washboard abs exposed. My bulging crotch was one inch from the kid's face. I'm sure he could smell the cum and sweat inside. I sat down beside him, my weight shaking the plane seat. All the color drained from his cheeks. The plane took off. The cabin lights dimmed, and almost everyone fell asleep. This was my first time in a plane seat since my "growth spurt." My shoulders and arms jutted well into the nerd's personal space. My hard tricep rubbed against his sad, noodley arm. I kept thinking how, just six months ago, I was this geek's size. We were probably the exact same age, yet I could do military presses with his body and not even break a sweat. Maybe even with one arm. I thought: Should I apologize for how much space I was taking up? I really was encroaching a full quarter into his seat. My bulging shoulder was digging into his tiny body. (The other one jutted into the aisle, so no one could pass by without brushing it.) My arm wasn't even on the arm rest, that's how wide I was. Then I noticed that the nerd was awkwardly covering up a boner in his lap. "Heh," I laughed under my breath. I turned my bulging neck and looked him in the eyes. I winked. He went as red as a firetruck. Now I was feeling arrogant. Discreetly, without anyone noticing, I grabbed his wrist and laid it on my bicep. I flexed, and the little nerd squeezed as hard as he could. (Not very.) Then I guided his tiny arm up under my shirt. I let him feel my pecs. I bounced them up and down as he groped them pathetically. His grip suddenly weakened. "Uff!" he whimpered. I saw a dark spot growing in his pants. My huge muscles had just made him cum. "Good boy," I whispered, and pushed him away, before anyone noticed. Fun as this mile-high muscle worship was, I was already missing Frank. I scrolled through the hundreds of X-rated pictures and videos of him on my phone, both heartbroken and incredibly aroused. Pics of us together when I was just 180 pounds, and he was 375. Videos of me pounding him doggy style, his back muscles jiggling. I could feel the nerd's prying eyes on my screen. I stumbled upon a recent, shirtless, chest-up picture of Frank, from his 430-pound era. He was smiling, as handsome as a movie star, but his furry pecs and shoulders looked so shockingly pumped that the nerd gasped. "Your...boyfriend?" he asked meekly. "You could say that," I replied. "Oh my God. He's... huge," he whispered, looking at Frank's picture in disbelief. He was spellbound. Now I had a painful erection. I lowered the seat back tray to hide it. But my heart was heavy. Three months apart. It sunk in. What if Frank found someone new? Someone even bigger than me? Vague jealousy burned like flames in my mind. I felt more motivated than ever to grow this summer. I'd come back so huge that Frank would be shocked, so big he could never find someone hotter than me. So big, so fucking big, so much muscle... my mind looped and looped, just like Frank's. Maybe it was the tren. The nerd watched as I took out a two-pound Tupperware container. Ground chicken, brown rice. 120 grams protein. It was a four-hour flight, and I had three of these meals to eat. -- To say my parents were horrified would be an understatement. At the airport, they didn't even recognize me at first. "It's me, it's James," I assured them. Even my voice was deepened by the roids. They hugged me like I was a science-fiction monster, confused and alarmed. You have to remember that the last time they had seen me, just six months prior, I was a lean, 155-pound kid. Now I was 225 pounds. I had told them I was bigger, that I'd been lifting, but not much else. Now, their charming, sensitive, academically inclined son was a roided-out meathead, more muscular than a Chippendale's dancer. Voice deeper, face wider but still jarringly boyish on a thick neck that stretched my shirt collar. Obscene, veiny muscles bulging everywhere -- ass, shoulders, pecs, arms, traps -- beastly, erotic bulges attracting stares from all corners. The next few days were pretty awful. Long fights ensued. Vehement lectures about the dangers of steroids (which I denied using, lol). Insistence that I see a psychiatrist for "bigorexia." But I knew what body dysmorphia was, and I didn't have it. I didn't think I was small. I thought I was huge. And I loved it. And now the only thing I wanted was to get bigger. All my parents’ anxieties and pressure didn’t amount to much when I thought of the sweaty, hairy, 430-pound muscle bottom that was waiting for me back at school. Frank’s special kind of madness had infected me. Logical reason fell by the wayside. All that mattered anymore was muscle and sex. With horror, it dawned on my parents that not only had I transformed utterly...I wasn't finished yet! I hadn't lined up a single thing to do that summer except train and eat and cycle on more and more gear. No internship, no summer job, no friends or social life even. Just gym and consuming shocking amounts of protein, day in, day out. Every now and then, I might come across a hulking gorilla at the gym or on Grindr, and I'd fuck their brains out. But those were my only, occasional distractions. If that was cheating on Frank, then it hardly counted, because Frank had spoiled me for sex. Guys smaller than 230 pounds no longer interested me -- and even when I found a roided-out muscle bottom, he'd never have a cock as massive and beautiful as Frank's was, or a face as handsome, or lips as soft. By my 19th birthday, late in June, I was 235 -- up a full ten pounds from my last weigh-in, and yet leaner and more defined than ever. My parents pretty much cut me off. They'd still pay for college in the fall, they said, but they didn't want to underwrite the money I was spending on food and new clothes and probably steroids that summer. Yet I soon realized that I could make a fortune doing cam shows, just flexing and jerking off for ridiculous rates, and could even raise my prices as I grew bigger and freakier each week. (Being hung didn’t hurt either.) So money became a non-issue. It poured in. In fact, I was making more than my parents did, unbeknownst to them. By early August, I was 250 pounds, a number that shocked even me. By then, my largest shirts fit like crop tops and left my well-defined abs exposed. Finally, my parents put their foot down. Either I see a psychiatrist, or they would stop paying my tuition. Reluctantly, I agreed. Through a stroke of luck, this ultimatum totally backfired on them. Within seconds of meeting my handsome, 30-something psychiatrist ("call me Justin") I realized he was gay. I could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure as he looked me up and down. As soon as the door of his office closed, I literally tore off my shirt. I practically leapt over his desk and shoved his face in between my pecs, forced him to suck on my perfect nipples. I flexed a bicep (21 inches) and pushed it into his face. He moaned and slobbered all over my peak, then huffed my musky pits. I swiped all the stuff off his desk -- it crashed on the floor -- and I roughly laid him out on the surface. I picked him up and started doing military presses with his body, over and over, with perfect form. I could tell from the bulge in his pants how much he was loving my show of strength. Then I laid him down on the chaise lounge (where I was supposed to be in therapy). I sat on his face, and enjoyed the frantic, overwhelmed way he ate out my bubble butt, no doubt the most muscular one he had ever seen. The shrink quickly came in his nice slacks. But I wasn't through with him. I flipped around and shoved my 8-inch cock down his throat. At first he nearly choked, but eventually managed to suck me dry. My load was enormous. All this worship had made me more horned up than I'd been in months. I started to put my tattered, indecent clothes back on. "That's all the time we have for today," I joked as I walked out the door -- knowing he'd never forget how good my ass looked as I left. -- A few days later, I overheard Dr. Justin debriefing my parents on our session on speakerphone. "Mr. and Mrs. Keller, you have nothing to worry about. James shows no signs of body dysmorphia or any other psychiatric disorder. Bodybuilding is a perfectly legitimate sport, and you should be encouraging James for his dedication and hard work. In fact, I'm a little disappointed that you have been so dismissive of James's athletic goals." My mom fell for it, hook, line and sinker. "Oh, God, you're right. How could we have been so unsupportive? I feel terrible." But my dad raged. "Encouraging THIS!? But the boy looks like a FREAK!" “Mr. Keller, I don’t think words like ‘freak’ are helpful here.” "Honey, listen to the doctor. We need to support James." "But what about the steroids?!" "In my medical opinion, I see no signs that James is abusing steroids. After speaking with him, it is my belief that he simply has excellent adherence to his diet and exercise regimen -- as well as a genetic predisposition for muscular hypertrophy." "BUT HE'S GROWING FIVE POUNDS A WEEK! THE KID HAS 21-INCH ARMS!" "Ron! Don't second-guess the doctor. He's the expert here." "Well, all of this being said, I do think James would benefit from continuing therapy. Maybe you could send him back to my office?" -- Although my dad wasn't happy, that was the end of the fighting. My parents yielded to my increasingly extreme lifestyle and size. Emboldened, I dramatically increased my tren and macros, and by the end of the summer, I was teetering at 265 pounds, up a full 40 pounds since June, and 110 pounds since January. I wasn't just training my muscles… As long as I'd known Frank, I'd never been able to bottom for him. His 10.5" dick was too much for me. I couldn’t even get it inside me. So all summer, I was practicing with bigger and bigger toys, getting ready to ride his almost fist-sized cock the day we reunited. Even though Frank was on my mind constantly, we hadn't corresponded much. It was pointless to text or call him. He lived in the moment, whether lifting or eating or fucking or practicing, and barely looked at his phone. The messages I sent would sit unread for days, driving me into a frenzy of insecurity. The few messages I got back were dashed off in pidgin English. ("miss u 2 bro, iam jo 2u rn. still growin??") Sometimes I thought he was barely literate. Plus, there was a tacit understanding between us that we didn't want to reveal too much. We both wanted to be shocked by each other's growth when we finally reunited in person. Imagine what Frank is going to think when he sees me. That was all I thought, day in and day out, as I pounded protein shakes, pushed barbells, and pegged myself in my locked bedroom. One hot August afternoon, as a twelve-inch dildo ripped through my bubble butt, I came the biggest load of the whole summer, picturing the shock on Frank's face when he'd finally see me next week. -- The day came. I was returning to college for sophomore year. Unlike my last flight, this time, I knew I was far too big to fly coach. I just wouldn't fit. So I used some of my cam money to upgrade to First Class. Even in the larger seats, my lats spilled out comically. A tank top, barely a scrap of fabric, left half my pecs and both nipples completely exposed. It was pretty fun to watch the other passengers trudge by, the look of shock on their faces when they saw a 265-pound, 19-year old bodybuilder looking back at them arrogantly. I made sure they all had to brush past my veiny arm, which jutted into the aisle. Especially the nerds around my age, whom I took special pleasure in intimidating. I didn't eat any of the First Class food, though. I brought seven pounds of ground beef and rice in three huge Tupperware containers. Spent most of the flight stuffing my face, trying not to leak too much pre-cum thinking about my growing muscles -- and of the furry, wheezing, waddling mass monster that was waiting for me back on campus. Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank. After I was done eating my Tupperware meals, I started rubbing my bulging chest, flexing my arms, turned on by my own mass. The other people in First Class glared at me. I’ll admit, my behavior and appearance were pretty shocking. My dick got so painfully hard that I needed to rub one out. I stuffed myself into the airplane bathroom, barely able to close the door. I felt like a sardine. Then I looked in the mirror. I almost came on the spot. I could not believe how massive I had become. I pulled my cock out of my sweatpants and flopped it on the tiny bathroom counter. I looked back at my reflection and immediately orgasmed. I sprayed a load all over the little sink and mirror. I flexed for a few more minutes, totally stunned. I half-heartedly cleaned up the mess, then waddled back to my seat to drink a protein shake. — My flight had been delayed, and I got to our dorm quite late -- almost 2am. Everyone on campus was asleep. I stood outside our door. New year, same little cinder-block dorm room. We had pulled some strings to stay paired together another year. My heart pounded. I was completely hard. Just imagine what Frank will think when he sees me. Even as I reached for the door handle, the enlarged size of my veiny forearm caught my eye. A warm feeling surged through my cock. The room was pitch black. I heard Frank’s typical snoring and closed the door quietly, trying not to wake him. The scent of sweat and muscle and cum was overpowering, like a smack in the face. It conjured the countless fuckfests we'd had in the room over the past year. My dick throbbed with pleasure and anticipation. I even started moaning out loud, that's how horned up I felt. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. I realized the mattress was on the floor for some reason, no bed frame -- and the huge, dark mound on the mattress must be Frank. I set my bag down, then peeled off my clothes silently. Now I was completely naked. My dick was pulsating from Frank's pheromones and my months of waiting. I tiptoed towards the mattress in the center of the room, stepping on jock-straps, cum-stained bodybuilding mags, empty vials of tren... Same loud snores. Frank could sleep through anything. I climbed into bed with him. I got under the covers. I nestled next to him, so I was big spoon. Frank's naked body felt molten hot as I ran my fingers through his fur. Impossible to describe his scent. Even in the darkness, just tactilely, I could tell something was different. This was Frank, but this wasn't Frank's same body. For example, I cupped one of his shoulders with both of my hands, yet even two hands couldn't encompass his delt -- that's how enormous he was. Cuddling him from behind, I couldn't even reach around his lats; he was too wide. My fingers grew more restless as I realized he was far, far larger than the last time I saw him. In disbelief, I groped his sleeping muscles, squeezed his neck, caressed his beard, the stubble on the back of his head... Frank snorted loudly and flipped onto his back, almost crushing me in the process. But he didn't wake up. Frank started to talk in his sleep. "Fuck...Muscle bro...Fuckin' huge...Muscle...Freak...Musc..." he muttered. Then he resumed snoring even louder. Now I could feel his pecs. I delicately kneaded them, toyed with his sensitive nipples. ("Unnh!" Frank cried unconsciously.) Yes, they were much bigger too. Hard to tell how much bigger in the dark. I was in a silent frenzy. I could have cum right then and there. Yet I decided to reach down further. I felt it. Frank's 10.5" cock, as hot and hard as I had dreamed of it. I tasted some of the pre-cum that dribbled out. I had to do it. I had to ride him. I very quietly stood up, stripped the blanket off of his body. I squatted over Frank's cock and guided it into my massive bubble butt. I just used a bit of spit for lube. Even in his dreams, Frank was leaking so much pre that I didn't need much else. All the training I had subjected myself to that summer was leading here. Frank was still asleep as he entered me. I cried out in pain. Then the pain subsided and pleasure rushed over me like nothing I'd ever felt before. I slowly thrust up and down, taking more and more, until he was inside me up the hilt. I was legit crying tears of joy as Frank unwittingly tore through my ass -- feeling like the type of huge muscle bottom I'd always fantasized about. I started thrusting my ass faster and faster as I rode him. Then suddenly a change came over Frank. He didn't wake up, but some kind of animal spirit inside of him did. His super-strong hands clasped my waist, and suddenly he was thrusting harder and harder. Pounding me. "AHHHHH!" I screamed, unable to stay quiet any longer. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I roared with each thrust. The feeling was so intense, I was about to pass out. Then Frank truly woke up. "WHAT THE -- what the FUCK?" he yelled out in confusion as I rode his cock in the darkness. I must have looked like a huge dark shape bouncing up and down on his boner. "AH! AH! AH AH!" I moaned, incapable of even forming words. I was starting to black out, the room was receding, but I couldn't stop riding Frank. It felt too incredible. Then Frank groped for a lamp near the bed. He clicked it on. A blinding light filled the room. I realized why the mattress was on the floor. The wooden bed frame had evidently buckled -- its wreckage was piled in the corner of the dorm room. I looked down at Frank, he looked up at me. We saw each other for the first time in three months. All while 10.5 inches of him were inside me. I'll cut to the chase. Frank was 470 pounds. He had gained 40 pounds of mass that summer. His arms had grown to 26 inches. His furry pecs were so enormous that from my angle, riding him, they actually hid most of his face. His cheeks were fuller and his face was broader from all the gear, yet he was as handsome as ever, even with a stunned look in his eyes. Then you have to imagine Frank's POV, bright light suddenly on, looking up and seeing his roommate, now a 265-pound gorilla, riding his cock for the first time ever, pectorals and hard cock flopping up and down. "J--James?" "FRANK!" (In unison) "OH MY GOD! UNNNNNNNH!!!!" As his load GUSHED into my hole, mine exploded all over his mega-pecs and his beautiful face. The biggest load I'd ever produced. His face was completely coated, like a mask. We both came and came and came and came and came. Our muscles were shuddering and quivering post-orgasm. The harsh light of the bedside lamp made our bodies look all the more freakish and unreal. Two absolute monsters, roid pigs, 19 years old, 735 pounds of muscle between us. Frank's sensitive cock was still deep inside me, gushing warm sperm deeper and deeper. We locked eyes. Underneath a veil of cum, I could tell Frank was smiling devilishly. That was how our sophomore year began.
  2. I had the wonderful opportunity to work on a commission for mystery79, who wanted a wholesome muscle growth comic for their DeviantArt page (linked). I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of creating this piece as fresh ideas flowed continuously. If you're looking to have a captivating story crafted just for you or if you'd like to express your appreciation to the artist, feel free to tip a coffee at $creativecoffeeman. You can easily message me on Discord at czechhunter69#0839. For those who are simply here to enjoy the artwork, sit back, relax, and let the magic unfold! ------------------- Alex the muscle daddy next door As the summer sun beat down on the small town of Willowbrook, Brock wiped the beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Home on a break from college, he had taken up a job as a grocery bagger at the local market to help save up for the upcoming semester. The monotony of the job was broken when a familiar figure approached his checkout lane. There was something about the man that struck Brock as oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The man, probably in his mid-thirties, exuded an air of confidence and strength. His fiery red hair caught the sunlight, framing a face with rugged features and a perfectly groomed fiery red beard. Every inch of his muscular physique was accentuated by a tight-fitting shirt, emblazoned with the word "SECURITY" across his broad back. In this town, Brock had never seen a man this thick, so far from a gym - much less without a sweaty pump to justify that much fluffiness. As Brock diligently loaded his groceries into the back of his SUV, his attention couldn't help but wander to the striking figure waiting just outside the car. Every now and then, Brock would discreetly steal glances, catching the man's appreciative gaze fixed on him, as if he were a mouthwatering delicacy. As they both were enjoying the view. The brief connection of their eyes sent an electric jolt through Brock's body, leaving his cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. It was in that exhilarating moment that Brock finally recognized the man's identity—Alexander Olson, his childhood friend's father and his next-door neighbor. The realization left him momentarily speechless, awestruck by the transformation Alex had undergone. He hadn’t seen the man in years, much less spoke with him. Gone was the lanky figure he remembered; this Alexander exuded a captivating presence, one that left Brock feeling a mix of admiration and desire, leaving his mouth dry and thirsty in the heat. As Alexander prepared to drive away, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, reflecting in the rearview mirror, his lips curling into a playful smile. In a moment of tantalizing flirtation, he sent a sly wink Brock's way. Simultaneously, his hand discreetly dropping a crumpled piece of paper. The air crackled with intrigue, and Brock's heart raced with a mixture of exhilaration and nervous anticipation. Reacting swiftly, Brock's trembling hands descended to retrieve the fallen treasure. Carefully unfolding the paper, a crumpled business card, a handwritten message graced the surface, an endearing blend of disheveled scrawl and affectionate intent: "Hey cutie,” In that instant, a rush of emotions coursed through Brock's veins. His world seemed to tilt on its axis as he realized how much he didn’t care about who this man was. Alexander’s voluptuous body and playful gesture had stirred a dormant flame within Brock, igniting the possibility of a connection he never dared to imagine - the married dad next door. A whirlwind of emotions churned within Brock's stomach, leaving him both excited and apprehensive. The man who had been a constant presence throughout his childhood, had just flirted with him - and he liked it. Did Alex know who he was? As a junior in college, Brock was no stranger to the assumptions and labels cast upon him due to his youthful appearance - it’s often why a lot of guys his age didn’t bother with him. His gentle features and slender frame often led others to classify him as a Twink. Yet, holding Alexander's business card in his hand, he couldn't shake the feeling that there might be something more brewing, and certainly couldn’t wait to catch up. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Brock carefully tucked the business card into his pocket, weighing wether or not it was meant for him or what to do. The man was married! And his neighbor! With the warm breeze whispering through the rows of parked cars and the vibrant sounds of the bustling market filling the air, Brock stepped back inside to finished his shift before texting Alex the same message: “Hey cutie” In all honesty, he wanted to play it cool and go with the safe phrase of “Hey big guy”, but he also wanted Alex to know it was him. Brock and Alex's initial text exchanges flowed effortlessly - and to his surprise he wasn’t just imagining it Alex really did mean to drop his card for Brock. Alex was genuinely interested in Brock.The conversations gradually evolved, transitioning from playful banter to the exchange of revealing pictures. Alex's images showcased his muscular physique and dedication to fitness, while Brock hesitantly shared glimpses of his own vulnerability, encouraged by Alex's genuine interest - only to be accepted as he was. Alex loved a smaller, slimmer man he explained- someone he didn’t have to be in competition with. Someone he could playfully benchpress as they cuddled. Someone who would allow him to be their boss, dominating their world. Their connection grew stronger with each passing day, as they opened up about personal matters. Alex confided in Brock about his ongoing divorce and the challenges he faced as a newly out gay man and father. It became more intimate and clandestine, adding an exhilarating element to their connection. Brock would seize the opportunity to visit Alex when his wife was away, the thrill of secrecy coursing through their veins - even if they weren’t a couple anymore. Their meetings began with casual conversations and catching up, often over drinks. Alex often took the initiative to advance their connection further. Brock, with his experiences and knowledge became a treasure trove of information about being gay, became a guide for Alex, introducing him to new aspects of his sexuality and exploring different roles within their intimate dynamic. One such day, Alex came up behind Brock and with a confident touch, Alex's beefy hands skillfully working their magic on Brock's tired and tense back, eliciting a contented sigh from his lips as he surrendered to Alex’s intense pressure on his muscles. His eyes closed trying to keep from crying out, for fear Alex would stop. The demanding nature of Brock's job at the grocery store, coupled with the stress of affording college in the fall, had left him yearning for this kind of painful relief, and Alex proved to be an expert at easing his tension. "You're so tense," Alex remarked, his words laced with a mix of concern and desire, before applying deeper pressure with his thumbs to relax Brock's knotted muscles. "So tense and hard.” He said in a deeper and huskier voice. Sensing the growing attraction between them, Alex leaned in closer, his waist pressing against Brock’s ass over hanging the back of the stool. The absence of a backrest allowed Brock to keenly feel the firmness of Alex's waist against him, the tantalizing bulge between them leaving little to the imagination - a clear impression of Alex’s 8” beer can. A flicker of anticipation danced in the air as Alex's words hung there, heavy with smooth innuendos. Brock's heart raced, his mind swirling with a mixture of longing and excitement. The suggestion of moving to the guest room held the promise of a more satisfying massage, one that would satisfy not only their physical desires but take Alex’s gay virginity - if there could be such a thing. In that charged moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the throbbing pulse of desire and the unspoken invitation to see just how much Alex had learned about being a top. As Alex confidently led the way, Brock couldn't help but admire the mesmerizing sight before him. Each step Alex took revealed legs as robust as those of a seasoned athlete, defying any notions of a sedentary lifestyle. The moment they walked in the room, the waistline of Alex’s shorts loosened, surrendering to gravity as they approached the room, granting Brock an exquisite view of every sinew and contour of his muscular legs, leading up to the tantalizing glimpse of his boxer briefs. The tanned and impeccably toned flesh was a testament to years of dedication and hard work, as if he were poised to step onto a stage for a bodybuilding competition. His perfectly round buttocks beckoned like delectable cupcakes, inviting exploration and indulgence. "I work better without my pants on," Alex's voice resonated with playful anticipation. "Now, let's focus on that massage," he continued, playfully slapping a hand on the firm mattress. Brock began to pull his shirt up, but Alex halted his movements with a gentle touch, physically moving him to the bed to lay down. "If I need your clothes off, I'll take care of it myself," Alex's voice resonated with a touch of command, halting Brock's actions. A surge of anticipation coursed through Brock's body as he witnessed Alex's playful struggle with his shirt, his mighty lats flexing in a display of awe-inspiring power, captivating Brock's gaze. With each tantalizing movement, the magnificence of Alex's chiseled physique unfurled before Brock's enchanted eyes, like a masterpiece coming to life. Brock knew the man was purposely wearing small and tight clothes. His broad and commanding shoulders stood pressed against his traps, perfectly proportioned and barely able to manage the simple task. The flowing lines of his deltoids accentuated the distinct separation between each head, as if meticulously crafted by a skilled artisan. They seamlessly merged into his robust triceps, adorned with bulging veins that whispered of his unwavering commitment to his craft. Brock couldn't help but fixate on Alex's captivating chest—an embodiment of muscularity, adorned with a tantalizing dusting of fiery red hair and a trail of temptation leading below. Each meticulously sculpted pectoral muscle stood proud, emanating a pulsating aura of raw power and masculine allure - even as he fought to get his shirt over his head. The deep crevice between them served as a testament to the sheer strength contained within Alex's upper body. And then there were his rippling abdominals, a sight that left Brock in awe. Like a work of art, each individual muscle exhibited astonishing clarity, inviting exploration and igniting desires he never knew existed. Yet, as the reality of the moment washed over him, Brock's heart raced with a mixture of desire and disbelief. The enchanting sight before him beckoned him closer, awakening an urge to explore, to run his fingers over every carved ridge, and to discover the depths of pleasure that lay within this tantalizing dream made flesh. As the sleeves of his shirt clung tightly to his bulging arms, Alex's playful laughter filled the room, interrupting the mesmerized state that Brock found himself in. Their eyes met, and a mischievous spark danced between them. "Hey, Brock, I know you’re enjoying the view, but could you lend a hand?" Alex's voice dripped with playful charm. He was well aware of Brock's gaze, seemingly seeing through the fabric that concealed his magnificent physique. "Oh, yeah, sorry," Brock stammered, his cheeks flushing slightly as he snapped out of his reverie. He eagerly reached forward, grasping the warm and almost sweaty fabric, feeling the seams strain against the sheer size of Alex's body. Brock couldn't help but notice the subtle flexing of Alex's biceps, pressed against his ears in a playful display as it happened. It was a performance, designed to captivate and entice, and Brock was more than willing to be a willing participant. With one final tug from Brock, the shirt finally surrendered, leaving Alex standing before him, his head crowned with a tousle of messy red hair, a captivating contrast to his chiseled physique. In that surreal moment, as Brock's eyes traced the intricate lines of Alex's sculpted physique, a mischievous smirk played on Alex's lips, as he began to pop his pecs, left and right repeatedly - knowing just how hot it was for Brock. “Yeah? You like the huh?” Alex said. As the shirt fell to the side, discarded and forgotten, Brock found himself pulled into Alex's strong embrace. His head nestled between the pillows of sculpted pecs, the warmth and solidity of Alex's body enveloping him in a cocoon of desire. It was a full-bodied hug. Alex's lips left a trail of tender kisses along Brock's forehead, his breath mingling with whispered words of adoration. Each touch ignited a spark within Brock, fueling the flames of passion that consumed them both. "God, everything about you is so perfect," Alex murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and reverence. “I’ve never done this with a man.” The soft caresses continued their descent, leaving a trail of longing in their wake. Finally, their lips met, a fusion of fire and intensity that transcended words. In that passionate exchange, time seemed to stand still, their hearts beating in sync as their bodies pressed against one another. With a firm yet gentle motion, Alex guided Brock backward, their bodies sinking into the plushness of the bed. Brock's feet dangled over the edge of the bed, his knees bent as he surrendered himself to the gentle exploration of Alex's skilled touch. As Alex's lips and hands ventured across his chest and shoulders, a wave of sensation coursed through Brock's body, setting his nerves ablaze. Every kiss and caress sent ripples of pleasure, accompanied by an awe-inspiring visual display. With each tender motion, Alex's pecs flexed, their impressive definition captivating Brock's gaze. The sinewy muscles seemed to pop and ripple, a testament to the dedication and strength that resided within them. The rhythmic contractions of Alex's arms, guided by his hands, created an intoxicating dance, evoking a primal desire within Brock. And as their bodies pressed against each other, Brock could feel the subtle friction of the bulging briefs against his own waistline, a teasing reminder of the arousal they shared. In that moment, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the tender affection and care that Alex bestowed upon him. It was a moment of full of genuine emotion. It was more than a mere hookup; it was a shared experience of vulnerability, pleasure, and profound intimacy. As Alex lavished him with affection, Brock couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and contentment. Brock's feet dangled over the edge of the bed, his knees bent, as Alex's strong hands worked their magic on his tired little body, pinned to the bed and loving every moment of it. "Let's add a little more excitement," Alex suggested, seamlessly steering the conversation into a new direction. With a fluid motion, his hand slipped under Brock's shirt, effortlessly peeling it off, revealing Brock's unremarkable chest. As Alex leaned in, his colossal back obscured Brock's view of the rest of the room, allowing him to only notice the stray red hairs that dared to venture upwards from Alex's pecs and nestle there. Alex's delicate nibbles and suckles on Brock's chest and neck sent shivers of pleasure coursing through him, while the slight abrasions of his facial stubble added a delightful sensation, a pleasant ache that heightened Brock’s experience. Brock found himself at a loss, his inexperience contrasting with Alex's muscular and seasoned presence. It seemed as though Alex was a master, effortlessly pinning Brock's hands above him as he positioned himself on top. Their lips met once again, this time engaging in a passionate dance of tongues, exploring each other. Brock marveled at the way Alex's tongue effortlessly extended further into his mouth, savoring the sensation. One of his favorite moments was when Alex playfully nibbled on his lips after intensely exploring his mouth. “You taste good," Brock playfully retorted between passionate kisses, his desire growing with every passing moment. The weight of Alex pressing down on his waist intensified the delicious friction against his throbbing cock, enhancing the urge within him, as if being driven deeper into the mattress. “That was suppose to be my line," Alex chuckled, his lips briefly parting from Brock's before resuming their intense connection. As their makeout session continued, Alex deftly began unbuttoning Brocks pants, but Brock eagerly attempted to lend a hand, only to have his efforts playfully swatted away. "That's going to be my job," Alex asserted, his tone carrying a hint of intimidation, yet the mischievous smile on his face dispelled any notion of seriousness. In the midst of their escalating passion, Brock could feel the room growing hotter, their bodies intimately intertwined. Alex's fingers expertly undid the remaining buttons of Brock's pants, his touch sending electric currents of pleasure coursing through Brock's veins. Slowly, sensually, Alex slid the pants down Brock's legs, baring him completely. "God, you're perfect," Alex uttered, a statement that no man of his size had ever said to Brock before. "I just want to—" He abruptly halted his words as his hand ventured towards Brock's eager entrance, skillfully tracing delicate patterns to help him relax, while using his other hand to generously apply lube to his own throbbing cock - a different beast that also terrified Brock. The air brimmed with anticipation, their eyes locked in a fiery gaze, each aware of what was to come next. With a surge of desire, Alex positioned himself at the threshold of Brock's longing. In a surprising display of tenderness, Alex embarked on their journey with meticulous slowness, savoring every moment of their intimate connection. Despite his imposing physique and impressive size, he moved with a gentle precision, his touch exuding both care and affection. His hands roamed Brock's body, worshipping every curve and contour, as if tracing a map of his devoted adoration. Brock's excitement only grew, his moans fueling Alex's fervor. Lost in the moment, their lips locked again and again, Alex began to thrust more intently now, their bodies melding together, Brocks feet locked behind the wall of muscle. "That's it, make daddy proud," Alex grunted, his words punctuated by the rhythm of their shared desire. Brock's body responded, the gentle stimulation of his P-spot sending blissful shivers cascading through his nerves until, without warning, he released in a wave of intense pleasure, his climax transcending any preconceived notion of a definitive jolt as he coated Alex’s treasure trial in thick globs of cum. As Brock's release marked the peak of his pleasure, Alex, sensing the culmination drawing near, intensified his rhythm. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a crescendo of passion reaching its apex as the bed slammed against the wall harder with each thrust. With unrestrained abandon, Alex's voice filled the air, his moans echoing through the room, as his own climax overcame him. Brock could feel the pulsating warmth of Alex's release inside him, even after Alex withdrew. Part of him wanted Alex to collapse on top of him right there, suffocating him. Suddenly, they both heard the front door opening and his wife tossing her keys and purse onto the kitchen bar. In a state of panic, Alex hurriedly attempted to get dressed, his voice filled with urgency. "Oh, fuck, she's home. You can't be here, you really can't be here." The sudden arrival of Alex's wife sent shockwaves through the room, erasing any remnants of relaxation or time to clean up as she announced she was home. Brock's heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation, scrambling to his feet but stumbling clumsily and falling with an audible thud onto the carpet. He lay there, his head resting amidst the scattered pieces of clothing, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. Desperately, he reached for his underwear and hastily put it on, searching for his shorts and shirt in a frenzy. In that tense moment, Alex's wife entered the room, her gaze immediately registering the scene before her. Anger and hurt flashed across her face as she confronted her husband, her voice trembling with betrayal. "What were you two doing? How could you do this to me? He's barely older than our son, Alex!" Her words were filled with pain and disbelief, as if speaking to an unseen presence, disregarding Brock's presence in the room. The weight of her accusation bore down on Brock, his face turning pale with embarrassment and shame. However, her expression suddenly shifted, and she burst into laughter, a bitter and mocking tone in her voice. "You could at least let me know when you bring him over. But Brock, it's nice to finally meet you." Her words were laced with sarcasm, a mix of disbelief and resignation. The situation had taken an unexpected turn, leaving Brock caught between feelings of humiliation and a surreal sense of relief, unsure of how to respond in the midst of this emotional whirlwind. "Why did you panic if she knows about us?" Brock asked, feeling a sense of relief as he closed the door. "It was mostly for fun, she said she’d do it if she caught us" Alex replied, his voice filled with amusement. "And you're a good guy. Besides, she still plays a role in my life. I hope you'll allow her to be a part of it as the divorce goes through." Though Brock felt a twinge of awkwardness, he decided not to dwell on it. As long as things remained friendly and amicable, he didn't care. "You two finish up, I'll get some snacks in the oven," she shouted from down the hall. Brock couldn't help but notice that none of this scene seemed to faze her. The way she smiled at both of them made Brock think she was actually proud of her husband. "How is she so comfortable with this?" Brock asked, genuinely curious. "We loved and supported each other for 20 years, and that support isn't going to stop just because we're not sexually compatible due to my own self-deception," Alex replied, his voice carrying a tone of maturity and introspection. "It took a lot of work to get her to this point where she's comfortable with it, and because of my failure to be honest with myself, it cost her a lot. So she's still a part of my life, and if you're willing, you could be a part of it too during that time. This is a house where love wins.” Brock could see the sadness lingering in Alex's eyes as he struggled to get his clothes on. It was evident that he was reflecting on his relationship with his wife, still carrying a sense of loss and regret. But Brock had a different idea. He stepped closer to Alex, pressing himself up against him, swatting the mans hands away from buttoning up his own shorts. "No, you're not getting dressed. We're getting in the shower," Brock asserted, a sly smile playing on his lips. He reached out, pulling Alex’s shirt back off. “We’re not done yet.” "We aren't?" Alex replied, a hint of playful challenge in his voice. "And what are you going to do about it?" he added, his gaze fixed on Alex's tensed arms, mesmerized by the bulging muscles, particularly the defined horseshoe bend of the tricep. Brock leaned in, capturing Alex's lips in a passionate kiss, pressing his body against the impressive chest that seemed to tower over him. His hand traced a path up and down the sinewy contours of Alex's arm, savoring the sensation of each muscle beneath his touch. "Goddamn, your muscles are enormous." Brock murmured between kisses, his desire and admiration evident in his words. As Alex guided them into the shower, the warm water cascaded down their bodies, creating a sensual curtain that heightened the intimacy of the moment. Brock eagerly took the soap in his hands, lathering it up to create a rich foam. With tender care, he started at Alex's broad shoulders, his fingers gliding over the firm muscles. The soap glided effortlessly across Alex's sculpted chest, leaving behind a trail of bubbles that highlighted every beautiful contour and ridge, tangling themselves in his hair as each strand danced. Brock's hands moved in slow, deliberate circles, relishing the sensation of the slick soap on Alex's skin, specifically working to get his cum out of Alex’s hair. He traced the defined lines of his abs, his touch light and teasing, before moving lower to explore each powerful thigh and calf. The water, accentuating his size and strength. Brock's fingertips followed the path of the falling droplets, reveling in the way they meandered over the ridges and valleys of Alex's physique. He couldn't help but marvel at the way the water clung to his well-defined biceps, the droplets forming a glistening sheen that highlighted their impressive size. With each stroke and touch, Brock reveled in the sheer power and beauty of Alex's body. He reveled in the way the soap slid between his fingers, the way the water traced every curve and crevice. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, the connection between them deepening with every gentle touch and little remark as Brock worshiped the mans muscles. In that shower, Brock delighted in the sensuality of the experience, determined to satisfy Alex again. As Brock knelt before Alex, his hands continued their gentle exploration of the muscular body, caressing the firm flesh with reverence. With a deliberate and eager motion, Brock's mouth found its destination, enveloping Alex's throbbing cock barely able to breathe. His tongue, slick with desire, danced along every inch of Alex’s cock, tracing the intricate veins and contours that brought Alex immense pleasure. The rhythm of his movements matched the rhythm of the water cascading down, a symphony of sensuality in the steam-filled shower. The taste of Alex’s pre, a heady combination that fueled Brock's hunger for more, as the cock began to stiffen. Soon Alex's hand found its place behind Brock's head, as he looked up at his man. Sensing the growing hunger in Alex's eyes, Brock skillfully slid his finger into Alex's tight opening, expertly targeting his prostate. The combination of Brock's tantalizing suction and the euphoric stimulation sent waves of pleasure coursing through Alex's body, leaving him unable to contain his moans. Driven by his insatiable desire, Alex’s thrusts grew more fervent, his hips thrusting in tandem with Brock's oral ministrations. Brock couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of the mans ass clamping around his fingers with each push. The intensity built, their connection deepening with every desperate thrust. Brock continued to expertly suck and pleasure Alex, skillfully navigating the delicate balance of pleasure and control. And then, as the pinnacle of their desire approached, a surge of warmth flooded Brock's throat. He reveled in the taste and the shared intimacy, his senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. As they both caught their breath, Alex leaned against the shower wall, his body still quivering with aftershocks. A contented smile played on his lips as he gazed at Brock, a mix of satisfaction and admiration in his eyes. "You really know what you're doing," Alex chuckled, his voice laced with post-coital bliss. “Holy shit, men really do this stuff better." The sensitivity of his body lingered, as he shuddered against the wall. “I knew you had a second round in you.” Brock said wiping his lips of Alex’s remnants. In the steam-filled shower, a sense of fulfillment hung in the air, mingling with the remnants of their passionate encounter. Both men stood in the aftermath of their shared release, their bodies intimately intertwined in the blissful aftermath. Alex laughed. “Now, let’s see what your wife has made,” Brock said, shocked he could even say such a thing. —————————————————————————————————————————— In the weeks that followed, Alex orchestrated a series of unforgettable dates, each one meticulously planned to make Brock feel like royalty. From candlelit dinners at upscale restaurants to romantic walks along moonlit beaches, every moment was a testament to Alex’s infatuation. He reveled in the knowledge that his bulging muscles had the power to arouse and captivate Brock, his slender frame drawn to the sheer physicality of Alex's body. Brock, enthralled by the sight of every flexing muscle and the way Alex's shirts clung to his sculpted physique, found himself mesmerized by the sheer strength and beauty of his partner and they numerous ways he could support them both. As their relationship deepened, they ventured into new territories. Wrestling and working out together became a thrilling exploration of trust and vulnerability. In the heat of their workouts, Brock willingly placed himself in precarious situations, his body straining under the weight of Alex's strength with relief at Alex’s discretion. Bringing him to the point of collapse only for Alex to save him last moment. Under his watchful eye, Brock willingly surrendered himself to the tantalizing play of power dynamics late at Alex’s gym. He reveled in the intoxicating blend of vulnerability and domination, cherishing each moment when Alex took control with a touch that was both careful and loving. The sheer force of Alex's presence made Brock feel simultaneously small and cherished, the perfect balance that fueled their passionate connection. On the wrestling mat, their bodies entangled in a dance of strength and skill, Alex allowed Brock to practice the moves they had been working on. With each takedown and counter, Brock's confidence grew, the fruits of their dedicated workouts and wrestling sessions evident in his improved technique. As Alex tapped out, acknowledging Brock's victory for the night, a sense of pride and joy swelled within him. He admired Brock's progress, marveling at how far they had come together. Laughing as he pulled himself out of the staged and rehearsed full nelson, Alex couldn't help but tease Brock playfully, as if he wasn't the one pinned beneath him. "You're getting much better at that," he chuckled, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes, despite the lighthearted banter. With their wrestling match concluded, the intensity of their physical excitement began to subside, giving way to a pleasant fatigue that washed over them. “I swear you’ve been getting stronger.” Brock heaved as they made their way to the gym showers, the sound of running water serving as a soothing backdrop to their intimate conversation. “Since we’ve started working out, I’ve had a reason to push myself harder knowing there’s a man just waiting for this…” He said flexing a bicep, rotating his first in and out to really accentuate the muscle. As they stood under the warm cascade of water, cleansing their bodies from the exertion of their rigorous workout, Brock's mind turned to the approaching end of summer. The realization that his time with Alex was limited brought a tinge of sadness to his heart. Looking into Alex's eyes, he couldn't help but voice his concerns. "You know, summer's almost over," Brock spoke softly, his voice laced with a hint of melancholy. "I don't want to go back to college at this point.” The gravity of the words hung in the air, the implications of such a decision echoing between them. Brock hoped for a solution that would allow him to stay close to Alex, to continue nurturing the connection they had forged during these precious summer months. Alex, understanding the weight of Brock's decisions, reached out to gently caress his cheek. His expression softened, a mixture of understanding and affection reflected in his eyes. “Brock, I would do anything to make you happy and wouldn’t stop until you were,” Alex responded, his voice tender yet resolute. "If staying here, maybe pursuing online courses or working blue collar stuff, will bring you joy, then I fully support your decision. Your happiness and my growth for you, is what matter to me.” As he stepped on the scale, relishing the 5 pounds he was up, only for Brock to claim it was water weight and smash his proud moment. The sincerity in Alex's words filled Brock's heart with warmth, dispelling any lingering doubts. In that moment, he realized that their bond extended beyond the physical, encompassing a deep emotional connection that transcended any physical distance or academic pursuits, leading to someone willing to support him or physically hold him up. What harm would it be to simply continue falling in love with Alex? As they finished showering and dressed, preparing to leave the gym, a sense of gratitude and contentment settled within them as the held hands leaving. The drive home was filled with quiet reflection, punctuated by occasional glances exchanged between them, their love and devotion silently spoken through their eyes. With each passing day, their connection had deepened. The summer may be drawing to a close, but the love they had cultivated would continue to thrive, nurturing their souls and paving the way for a future filled with shared experiences and unwavering support. —————————————————————————————————————————— As they approached their respective homes one evening, hand in hand, they entered their separate front doors with a final smile before disappearing behind the frame, each stepping into the presence of their own families. For Brock, however, an unexpected encounter awaited him as his father stood there, a mix of curiosity and concern etched upon his face. "What's been going on with you and Alex?" his father questioned, his tone filled with a blend of confusion and worry. "You spend all your time with him and have been taking fewer hours at work. You boss just texted me and said you’ve been coming in less.” Brock felt the weight of his father's gaze, knowing that his dad was aware of his sexuality but still grappling with the complexities understanding the gay community - so in-depth conversations weren’t exactly his strong suit. "Dad, we're just hanging out," Brock replied, choosing to evade the subject, his voice tinged with a hint of unease. “Having a good time.” "You spend more time with him than with your own family," his father continued, his concern evident. "We only get to see you for a short while during the summer. How are you even able to afford taking so much time off from work?” Brock's father knew his son's workplace intimately, as Brock's manager was a close friend of his own. The web of connections seemed to tighten, adding another annoying layer of complexity to the situation. “Alex, like next door Alex, and I have been getting to know each other, ” Brock's words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of vulnerability and truth. His father stood there, momentarily speechless, struggling to process the revelation. "You're in a relationship with him?" his father finally managed to utter, his confusion palpable. "He's my age... no, he's just a few years older than me. What the fuck…" "Dad, this is precisely why I didn't tell you," Brock replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I don't care if you're dating a man," his father's tone softened, his love for his son evident. "But this... this is dangerous.” "He's actually an amazing person, Dad," Brock insisted, seeking to bridge the gap between them. "And his wife, she supports us.” "Yeah, you're dating a married man," his father mused, still trying to grasp the situation. "Wait, she supports this?" With a mix of confusion and curiosity, he motioned for Brock to follow him into the living room, where they could continue their conversation as they normally would. “Call him, and have him come over here, I want to speak with him,” Brocks father said. “I don’t want some 45 year old man, taking advantage of my 23 year old son.” Brock hesitated for a moment, sensing his father's protectiveness and the need to address his concerns. He reached for his phone and dialed Alex's number, feeling a mix of apprehension and hope. After a few rings, Alex's voice greeted him through the speaker. "Hey, babe, what's up?" Alex's voice was warm and comforting, soothing Brock's nerves. "Hey, Alex," Brock replied, his voice laced with a hint of tension. "My dad wants to talk to you. He has some concerns and... well, he wants to understand.” There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Alex responded, his voice filled with understanding and support. "I'm more than willing to talk to your dad. Let him know I'm coming over.” Brock relayed the message to his father, who nodded in acknowledgment. A mix of anticipation and skepticism filled the room as they waited for Alex's arrival. A few minutes later, a knock resonated through the front door, and despite Brock's eagerness to greet Alex, his father took the lead, his voice faltering with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. "Alex... I, uh... come in," he managed to say, his words trailing off as he opened the door. Brock, seated in the living room, listened intently, aware that his father was witnessing Alex's impressive physical transformation for the first time. The sight of Alex's muscular physique, honed through countless hours of dedicated training, was undoubtedly intimidating to his father. Alex stepped into the house, his presence commanding yet gentle, as he followed Brock's father into the living room. They took their respective seats, an atmosphere charged with curiosity and unspoken questions. Brock's father cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on Alex's powerful form. "I... I must admit, I didn't expect... this," he began, struggling to find the right words. "You've certainly changed, Alex.” Alex nodded, acknowledging the unspoken observation. "Yes, I've been working hard on my physique and overall fitness. It's become an important part of my life.” Brock's father studied Alex, his initial surprise slowly transforming into a mixture of respect and curiosity. "I can see the dedication and discipline it takes to achieve such a physique. It's impressive, to say the least.” Brock, sensing the shift in his father's perspective, felt a wave of relief wash over him. As Alex made his way into the living room, Brock immediately grasped the significance of his presence. Dressed in a loosely fitting tank top that accentuated his chiseled physique, his impressive, hairy pecs seemed to engage in their own silent dialogue with the room. Taking a seat beside Brock, Alex casually draped a weighty arm around Brock's shoulders, conveying both a sense of ownership and protection. And then, in a bold move, he leaned in and planted a kiss on Brock's lips, right before his father's eyes, as if to assert, without words, "Your son belongs to me.” Brock's father stood there, utterly speechless, his eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him. He witnessed the unspoken declaration of love, woven into that intimate moment between his son and this larger-than-life man. The sheer audacity and intensity of their connection reverberated throughout the room, leaving his father at a loss for words. Andrew, still grappling with mixed emotions, gathered his thoughts and approached the two of them seated on the couch. He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting between Brock and Alex, before finally finding the courage to address his concerns. "Brock, I need to understand... I mean, this... age difference and where you are in your life," Andrew began, his voice tinged with a mixture of worry and caution. "You're still figuring things out, and I just want to make sure you're going to be safe, protected.” Brock's heart ached with a blend of apprehension and a desire for his father's understanding. As he folded under the anxiety ladened conversation while Alex navigated it He knew that their relationship faced hurdles of acceptance, especially given the unconventional nature of his connection with Alex. But before Brock could respond, Alex interjected, his voice calm yet resolute. "Andrew, I understand your concerns. The age difference, his education, his entire life in front of him... these are valid points. But I want you to know that I will always stand by him the same way I would love and stand by my wife well after our divorce. I will support him in every decision he makes the same way you saw me supporting my wife when we first moved.” Alex asserted, his eyes brimming as he looked directly at Brock. "No matter what happens, you have my word as a man and your friend.” The words hit Andrew square in the chest, hearing the definitive promise his son would be taken care of. Andrew looked at Alex, searching for any hint of doubt or insincerity - even living next door Alex was the ideal neighbor. They never had an issue and often helped each other out. The only thing Andrew found instead was an unwavering commitment emanating from this imposing yet gentle man. It was clear that Alex's devotion to Brock went beyond mere infatuation; being man enough to come over for this conversation. As the weight of Alex's words settled upon Andrew, the small amount of betrayal he felt from his friend seemed to be buried under his promise. Andrew didn’t like the idea, but he would tolerate it As Alex pick his heavy body off the couch he excused himself, reaching out to Brock, his voice filled with a reassuring yet firm tone. “Come on, let’s go” he said, his eyes locked with Brock's. He could see the stress and unease that had settled upon his boyfriend, and he was determined to alleviate it and he knew just the thing. Brock hesitated, his mind grappling with the weight of the conversation with his father. With a small nod, he intertwined his fingers with Alex's rough hand, and together they walked out, side by side, finding the path that led to Alex's house. Each step seemed to calm their racing thoughts, easing the tension that lingered within. As they reached the porch, a surge of affection washed over Alex, prompting him to sweep Brock off his feet and carry him through across the threshold. Guiding Brock into the bedroom, Alex's grip on his hand tightened, drawing him into a tight embrace. He reassured Brock, his voice brimming with conviction. "Brock, I want you to know that as long as we're together, I will take care of you," he affirmed, his words carrying the weight of unwavering commitment. A playful grin crossed Alex's face as he added, "But right now, daddy need a protein shake, so he can continue getting bigger" his hunger evident as his hand caressed Brock's crotch. With each kiss, Alex carefully removed Brock's clothing, piece by piece, revealing the vulnerability and intimacy they shared. They crawled into bed, their bodies intertwining in an embrace that mirrored the strength of their promise. As their eyes met, Brock's heart swelled with a mixture of love and gratitude. It was in that intimate moment that Alex descended, his lips wrapping around Brock's shaft, as Alex blew Brock for the first time.
  3. countmuscle

    Freshman Roommate (Part 4)

    Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 4: As soon as I started cycling, lifting and eating with Frank, my body responded better than I could have hoped. The night I first agreed to take steroids, I was 18 years old, 5’9, 155 pounds. I was in good shape from swimming and running, and knew I was pretty handsome, but I looked nothing like the muscle freaks I had jerked off to since adolescence. Being roommates with Frank pushed me to the extreme faster than I could have ever gotten there on my own. Once I committed, Frank viewed me as his special project, somewhere between a mentee and a ward. He saw my mass-building as equally important to his own. To supplement my diet, Frank would bring me endless, unvarying food from the dining hall (where, as a football player, he got unlimited meals). Our mini-fridge was so full of chicken breasts and ground beef that we had to buy another one and stack it right on top. He taught me to look at food as a source of fuel, not pleasure, and once I made this accommodation, it amazed me how much I could pack away each day. My intake accelerated until I was eating 500 grams of protein daily. Frank not-very-gradually ramped me up to a high dose of tren. Not as extreme as his, of course, but enough for my already-healthy libido to shoot through the roof. Luckily, I didn't experience any of the stuff I feared: acne, mood swings, shrinking balls, etc. All the side effects I had were, frankly, very sexy. My voice deepened noticeably; dark hair started to sprout on my chest and forearms; I woke up each morning, nuzzled in Frank's pecs, with an erection so hard it was almost intolerable. Of course, the most valuable part of Frank's tutelage was in the school gym. Two brutal, grueling sessions per day, every day, except Sunday ("rest day" -- more like 120 minutes of cardio). The first time we went to work out together, I was a panicked mess, insecure to even be seen next to Frank in his gym clothes. I remember the first lift we did together. Barbell bench press. "Watch what I'm doing," Frank said, voice deeper than Vin Diesel -- but he didn't need to tell anyone to watch him. Every eye in the gym followed Frank anywhere he went. He added five 45-pound plates on each side, 495 pounds, and knocked out 8 perfect reps. You could actually see the bar bending under the weight. He was even speaking to me as he did reps, calling attention to his form. ("See my grip?" he said through gritted teeth, nipples popping out of his tank top.) Then it was my turn. We spent two minutes removing plates, then I struggled to do a single rep with one 45 on each side. My arms gave out, and Frank spotted me with one hand. At the gym, the insecurities that I'd always nursed came out in full force. All of Frank's over-the-top horniness would disappear when we got in the gym: He became cool, composed, professional. We looked bizarre working out together. I'd watch Frank curl a 260-pound bar as a warmup, his veiny, 24-inch arms so swollen they looked like they might pop. Then he'd turn around and show me how to properly curl two 15-pound dumbbells, gently correcting me if I tried to go heavier than I was able to. The gym made me realize how exceptional Frank really was. I knew he was strong, but didn't know -- until working out with him -- that he was lifting heavier weights than the Mr. Olympias I jerked off to. There was a reason he looked like this. "Hey. You know that guy?" a hulking frat boy asked me one time, after Frank had stepped away. "Yeah, he's my roommate." "Your roommate?" The frat boy was confused and, I could tell, annoyed. He was a senior, one of the most juicy, muscle-bound jocks at our college. Probably 6'0", 260 pounds. Absent Frank, he would have been my sexual obsession, the campus muscle god. Now Frank, a mere freshman, had stolen his thunder, and to make matters worse, Frank was lifting with me every day. "Yes, my roommate." "Well, you realize he's squatting 840 pounds? For reps? He could be in the Olympics." I kept asking myself: How could Frank, this fucking monster, be attracted to a weakling like me? Wasn't he impatient, showing me how to do shoulder presses with 20-pound dumbbells? Yet I soon realized that all of my fears were unfounded. Frank was an incredible trainer. His patience was endless. And his professional demeanor -- which I took as diminished attraction to me, upon seeing how weak I was -- was just how he acted in the gym. Aside from eating, lifting was just about the only time Frank could focus and not let his libido take over. The only time his dick wouldn't get hard at the drop of a hat. Within days, I was growing stronger, and I could see the pride in Frank's eyes when I improved my form or hit a new PR. My grades plummeted. I studied weight training more than my textbooks. I did the bare minimum to not get expelled, less for academic reasons than to remain on campus with Frank as long as possible. -- Five pounds of muscle a week. That's how much Frank said I'd grow. And you know what? That's exactly what happened. One week of grueling lifting and nauseating eating, and I was 160. Up five pounds exactly. And the next week, I was 165, and two weeks later I was 175. I had gained 20 pounds of muscle in one month. I was incredulous. After this initial pop, my progress slowed, of course, but it didn't stop. The next month, I gained 10 pounds. Frank doubled my tren. By April, I was 200 pounds. ("What do you mean you can't come home for spring break?" "Sorry, Dad, I really need to stay here and study.") By June, I was north of 220 pounds. I had put on 65 pounds of muscle in six months. I looked like a different person. My shoulders had made the most shocking improvement. They turned into these hairy, bulging, flat-topped melons, jutting out even from behind, making every t-shirt tight around the sleeves. A perky shelf of pecs had grown in between them, even larger and plumper than my delts, and my nips had sprouted dark hair and pointed straight down under their weight. My back exploded in size. I became double-wide. I looked absolutely absurd, with my still-boyish face atop ultra-roided, superhero-like traps, wearing shirts that became so tight they left my midriff bare. After countless hours of punishing leg workouts, my quads, ass and hamstrings were spectacular to look at. My glutes stuck out like a capital P. I grew the diamond-shaped quads I'd always fetishized. I had to beg my parents to send me money so I could buy all-new clothes, vague on the reason why. (They assumed I was getting fat, "freshman 15," etc.) Not a single thing I owned fit me anymore, but I wasn't big enough for Frank's XXL hand-me-downs either. I didn't look so ridiculous working out with Frank anymore. To say that Frank liked my transformation was an understatement. My juiced-up physique made him even more insatiable, horny for me day and night. If I wasn't eating or lifting, I was having indescribable, balls-to-the-walls sex with Frank, almost hourly -- five times per day at least. Our sexual connection didn't lose its spark. It was like a roaring inferno, consuming everything else in our lives (except for bodybuilding and, for Frank, football), and the tren was like pouring gasoline on top. -- Impressive as my own growth was, during this same period, Frank had entered his most extreme phase of bodybuilding yet. "5-5-5," he called it. "Gonna increase tren, calories and weights 5% each week for five months." As the weeks compounded, his intake of food and steroids -- already remarkable -- became completely unhinged. By the end of his five-month sprint, he was eating 30 chicken breasts per day. One every 30 minutes. He was benching 620 pounds for reps. His tren dosage was as high as he could "safely push it" (his words), according to the Reddit threads where he got most of his information about steroids. He grew even faster than me. Up 10 pounds in January, 12 pounds in February, 16 pounds in March. When Frank hit 390 pounds, our scale broke. Even the one in the football training center couldn't weigh him. We had to order a new scale, specially made in Germany for the morbidly obese. It arrived seven long weeks later, and the anticipation of weighing ourselves was one of my hottest memories from this time. In solidarity, I had held off weighing myself during that stretch, so we could both learn our progress at the same time. We knew it was going to be shocking. The scale finally arrived one week before summer break. In our little room (a disaster, a cum dump, it looked like ten horny bodybuilders had been squatting in it), we got everything ready. We both stripped off all our clothes, not that we ever wore more than jocks or tight white Calvin Klein briefs stretched to tatters by our growing muscles. I went first. "225.1" Both our cocks shot up at the same time. "Oh fuck dude... Holy shit bro...So much fuckin' muscle bro...Oh fuck, oh fuck," Frank said, his eyes going blurry. He started kneading his fingers through my perfect pecs, sniffing my pits. He stuck his powerful tongue down my throat. "Fuck James, oh my god James, you're so fucking hot..." he mumbled with his tongue in my mouth. I pushed him away. "C'mon, Frank -- now it's your turn!" Frank took a gulp and stepped on the scale. The sheer magnificence of his body standing there was too much for me. I was stroking my cock, trying hard not to cum, as the digital scale processed his weight. The screen blinked WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. The seconds felt like minutes. Then finally, STEP OFF. "429.9" We both gasped. Frank's boner started quivering and leaking pre-cum. His face went flush. We both turned and faced the full-length mirror. Suddenly, he saw himself in a new light. He realized the size that he had packed on. "Whoa...Oh my god dude...Oh my god...Oh my god bro..." Frank said, stunned by his own reflection. "UNNHHH!" We both came without touching our cocks. I still remember how our loads shot off at the exact same moment, flew 4 feet across the room, and hit the mirror with a splash. As cum dripped down the looking glass, we stared in awe of the two unstoppable, handsome, horned-up freaks gazing back at us.
  4. countmuscle

    Freshman Roommate (Part 3)

    Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 3: After we had fucked another two times, Frank and I rinsed off, then walked to the cafeteria. The other students were beginning to pour in after winter break, and the campus was abuzz with activity. Frank was wearing super-tight grey sweatpants, an even tighter XXL bodybuilder tshirt, and a black baseball cap. It looked like his clothes were about to rip. You could see every detail of his body in perfect definition, from his bubble butt to his nipples down to the head of his massive cock. He waddled into the dining hall. I walked beside him, self-conscious to even be seen with this muscle freak who towered over me. We looked like different species. This was the first time we had ever hung out together outside of our dorm. Sure, I'd bump into him occasionally on campus. He'd always be with some other hulking member of the football team. He would give me a wink, a bro-y nod, or a fist bump. ("Who's that?" I'd hear some hunky, 250-pound teammate asking as I walked away. "My roommate.") Apparently, Frank's rule on being seen with me had changed -- or the rule had never existed. I'm sure I looked strange standing next to him: a good six inches shorter, more than 200 pounds lighter, and unable to take my eyes off his bulging, twitching muscles. I soon realized it didn't matter. Frank drew so much attention, I may as well have been a ghost. The instant people noticed Frank, they went silent. Their minds were clearly blown. A nerdy freshman dropped his tray of food loudly, making a huge mess. We got in line, Frank ravenous and thinking only of his macros — not on the dozens of eyes watching him in disbelief. Without looking, Frank walked forward and bumped into a geeky, 5’7” sophomore boy in front of him. (Frank hadn’t noticed how nervous the boy was to be right in front of a muscle monster three times heavier than himself — though I had, of course.) As they collided, the kid’s head rammed right into Frank’s pecs (his single most oversized muscle group). The poor, closeted nerd stumbled back in a daze, his glasses askew. “Whoops. Sorry bro,” said Frank, looking down nearly a foot -- past his pec shelf -- to the nerd’s face. Frank was unfazed, not realizing he had given the skinny kid a memory he’d probably be jerking off to for years to come. I saw the nerd’s hands shaking as he reached for tongs. I watched Frank pile 12 chicken breasts, 10 hamburger patties, and two pounds of brown rice, and two cups broccoli onto his tray. His enormous hands made the tongs look ridiculous — like doll cutlery. The Mexican lunch ladies stared in disbelief; they barely came up to the middle of Frank's abs. I also noticed a group of jocks staring at Frank. "Holy FUCK, look at the size of him," one said. "You think that's steroids?" another one asked. "C'mon man, of course it is." “Yeah, look at those shoulders man.” "Dude, what the fuck, you can totally see his dick." (Frank, focused on heaping meat onto his tray, caught none of this.) You could see the fear in everyone's eyes as Frank carried his 10-pound meal into the dining room. I was nervous he'd see someone he knew, and I'd have to talk to one of his toxically masculine football jock friends. Fortunately, though, we sat down at a table alone. The bench screeched like it might break. Every table around us went silent. You could sense the other people trying to stare and eavesdrop inconspicuously. When he sat down, Frank's sweatpants couldn't contain his Mr. Universe-sized ass, which was left half-exposed in his white jockstrap. I'm not talking about a little crack. I mean a good 50% of his hairy bubble butt was fully on display. He didn't realize this, of course. I also noticed that his bright white shirt was starting to tear, right down the center of his back, revealing the slightly hairy traps underneath. Frank immediately began to devour his meal. Not like a pig -- more like a robot with a job to do. I had thought he might be stockpiling chicken and beef for later. Nope, I realized, he was going to eat this all in one sitting. Occasionally, he took a break from chewing to drink a swig of water. Otherwise he didn't say anything and barely looked up from his fuel. It struck me how even now, freshly showered and fully clothed, Frank’s musk was intense. "Frank, you might need to buy some bigger clothes," I said. "You think so?" he said, still chewing. "Well your shirt is starting to tear a little." "Ah fuck, I just bought this. Brand new. Biggest size they make." He kept chewing. "The thing is," Frank continued,"I've been bulking for a while. Was thinking of cutting soon. Maybe down to 350.” "I don't think you have much to cut. You have eight-pack abs." "Hmm." Frank pulled up his white shirt over his balloon-like pecs, his hairy nipples pointing straight down. His hairy, olive-skinned, washboard abs were revealed in all their perfection -- engorged as he was with food. You could feel the entire room's rapt attention on him. He counted his abs. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6..." (flexing) "7, 8. I guess you're right." Frank resumed eating wordlessly. He didn't realize -- or didn't care -- that his shirt was still rolled up over his pec shelf. Eventually the shirt fell back and covered most of his torso again -- to my relief, because I was self-conscious about the erection throbbing in my pants. After 20 minutes, Frank's plate was clean. Not even a grain of rice remained. "Fuuuck, I'm actually full," he said. He reclined back in the chair, stretched his 24-inch arms over his head in a relaxed way, like he had just finished a Sunday crossword. Then he casually popped a double bicep, just for a second, for me to see. The sharp peaks still astonished me. Then, for the first time since we had sat down, he actually looked me in the eyes. A moment passed. He didn't say anything, but his face was going a little red. I felt self-conscious until I realized that he was looking at ME with longing. Me?! "Um, James," he said, going even redder. "We might have a little problem." His eyes darted down to his own lap. I pretended to look for something under the table, and looked at Frank's crotch, where a throbbing, 10.5-inch erection was already forming a dark circle of pre-cum in his grey sweatpants. The shaft jolted out so far that it was half exposed. It could not have been more conspicuous or obscene. Every eye in the brightly lit dining hall was already on Frank. How were we gonna get him out of here? "Uh oh..." "Fuck," Frank said. "What are we gonna do?" I could tell he was really worried, but his tren-fueled lust was even more powerful. He was wheezing in the characteristic way he always did when he was horned up. He had no way to calm down his cock. "I have an idea." I picked up my tray like I was about to clear it, then deliberately spilt a full glass of soda and ice right onto his lap. The ice-water temporarily shrunk his hard-on into a mere 8-inch semi -- and it also hid the pre-cum stain on his grey sweats. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, dude!" I said. Frank acted upset, but I could see his relief. Although the "accident' drew even more attention on Frank than before, and his porn-star cock was more or less discernible in the wet sweatpants, he was able to escape the dining hall without a full-blown scandal. We got back to our cum-splattered dorm room and Frank more than repaid me for my savoir-faire. We fucked for hours. I came three times: once in his ass, once in his mouth, and once more in the crevasse of his swollen, furry pecs. — Afterwards, we lay in bed together cuddling. I squeezed my Incredible Hulk, nestled my face in his pits. “Mind shooting me up?” Frank asked. I was startled by how deep his voice sounded, but not by the request. I knew the drill. I would inject a dose of steroids into his right glute. At first, I had been shocked by this. Now I was used to the ritual, an expert at injecting gear. I was even a little turned on. “Sure, no problem.” “Hey James?” Frank asked, towering behind me, totally naked. Sticky, dried cum was splattered all over his body. The smell of his musk filled my nostrils. “What?” “Um. Never mind.” “No, what is it?” “You ever thought about doing some?” “Steroids?” “Yeah.” I paused. I really hadn’t. “To be honest, no.” “I was just thinking about how you’d look…If you put on about 70 pounds of muscle…You’re 5’9? I could juice you up to 230, 240 pounds in a year or so… The way you’re built, you’d pack on mass so quickly…Fuck…James…Oh my god bro…” I’d never seen Frank’s dick get hard so fast. Flaccid to hard in three seconds. It flew up perpendicular to his grotesquely swollen quads. His eyes were a little crazy as he looked down at me, fantasizing and scheming. He was wheezing again. “Picture us both all roided out,” he said, stroking his cock. “Posted up in here sophomore year, getting bigger and bigger. Horny all the time. Eating, lifting and fucking nonstop… both of us putting on 5 pounds of muscle every week…Picture how fucking hot you’re gonna look. How hot we’ll both look..holy shit… oh my god dude…” He blew a load all over the carpet. One of the biggest I had ever seen. My mind reeled at the dream he had shared, at how much it had turned him on — and turned ME on. I was just 18, and Frank was such a fucking beast it had never before occurred to me I could be anything like him, not until that moment. Despite my many misgivings about steroids, he had convinced me. I was now under his thrall, obsessed with muscle growth at all costs. That was the night my bodybuilding journey began.
  5. This story is a conversion of an old RP I did with a friend, @jsmith230. It was one of my favorite RPs so I thought I would convert it and share. While my first preference is muscle growth with a secondary love of height growth, you could say his preferences are the inverse of mine. So that will give you a hint of what this story will entail. Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13 *************************************************************************** Elongro “Dude, have you heard of that new 'Elongro' drug? I have to get my hands on it. I want to get huge this year!” Seth rolls his eyes as he listens to Trevor ramble on about the new miracle drug that has been making a splash among the young adult community worldwide. Trevor and Seth are college roommates and best buddies currently in their second year of college. The two were paired up as dormmates during Freshman year and their friendship blossomed from there. Both 19 years old, the two share a small apartment just off campus. To the outsider, Trevor is the alpha of the friendship, much more confident, outgoing and outspoken than his counterpart. He has always been very athletic and since coming to college has fully invested his free time into fitness and working out. He's obsessed with trying to put on mass and is always trying the latest supplements, pills and powders, along with constantly reading articles on new exercises programs to try. He has built himself up to a nice, ripped, 185 lbs on a 5’10.5 frame. His body fat hovers around 10-12% and he sports a nice 6-pack. But, like any true wannabe bodybuilder, it wasn't, deep down he wanted more. Much more. Seth is Trevor's roommate and while he also has a natural athleticism to him, he hasn't pursued it nearly to the degree that Trevor has, though few people could really say that. Some of the reason behind this is that Seth always felt just a bit too small to ever have great success in sports. He was one of those people who were content to be good enough to make the high school baseball team though he only saw limited playing time. Since college began, Seth exercised a couple times a week, mainly by just jogging, leaving him with a naturally slim and toned 145 lbs on his 5’8 body. The pair were pursuing business degrees although Trevor wasn't quite sold on the idea after his first year. While Seth fully intends to pursue a sales and marketing career, Trevor has considered switching to a more body-centric physical therapy program that would work well in parallel with his pursuit of fitness excellence. What currently has Trevor excited is the discovery of a new drug that offered an exciting possibility. Within the past year, a new compound was developed and released in Korea that is commonly known as “Elongro”. It's use had begun to spread across the developed world. However, due the USA’s overly strict drug testing protocol, the drug is still not legally available in the USA though it is available in most of Asia, Europe and Canada. The drug has caused excitement for people who are small in stature, either height or build. What the drug does is that it basically freezes a young adult growth rate, including hormonal levels, where that rate might be starting to wane. Along with enhancing the sex characteristics, it also keeps their growth plates open for an extended amount of time, allowing an individual to continue to grow for much longer than they normally would. Seth shakes his head as he listens to his roommate explain the drug. “What that means, Seth, is that if you naturally had, say, one more month of growth before your plates fused, you might keep growing at the same rate for another 2-3 months instead with Elongro. But, just think, if you were in the middle of a big growth spurt and originally had many months, or year left, you could potential retain that growth rate for a few more years! Isn't that awesome!” “Uh huh. Sure man. Sounds cool man,” Seth replied cooly. “Sounds a bit too good to be true, really.” “Well, it's not perfect, you're right.” Trevor pulls up his phone to read the details of the drug from the website he'd been researching. “The major drawback of the drug is that it has been shown to cause devastating side effects if a person is still showing any signs of puberty. Most humans complete puberty by the time they are 16 or 17 but keep growing in size for another 1 to 4 years. Because of this risk, most countries that allow the sale of the drug ban it from being used on any person under the age of 19. Also, the drug will not work if a person’s growth plates have already fused, which for many people has already occurred by the time they are 19. Thus, the window for success for the drug is very limited, if open at all. The reports say that only about one-quarter of the people who try to drug experience any results.” Trevor looks away from his phone at his disinterested roommate, but his own excitement cannot be interrupted and he keeps scrolling through the information showing on his phone. “For those that it does work, though, the results have been significant! Bro, this website says there are online rumors from the drug’s testing phase of people putting on 40-50 lbs of muscle and growing up to 6 to 8 inches taller well into their 20s! Shit dude, that would ROCK! I read that for those who are lucky enough to still be growing, the average success rate has been 15 lbs and 2-3 inches over an additional 6 months to 1 year of growing. I would give anything to put on some more size like that! My training has really stalled lately.” “That is pretty sweet, Trev. But you said it yourself, it may not even work. If you've finished your natural growth you're S.O.L.” Trevor huffs as Seth downplays Elongro. Tervor can't help but imagine the possibilities. Though he never mentioned it, while focused on growing his muscles, he secretly always wanted to be taller as well. He hadn't told Seth, but he had already started the process of obtaining the Elongro. He had already set up a quick weekend trip to Canada where a close friend was to obtain a prescription and then supply him with a vial of Elongro. He's aware of the illegality but the chance to put on some size even if it's just a few pounds or an inch in height, is too much to pass up. Because of the drug’s scarcity and the fact he has to obtain it illegally, it will cost Trevor over $1200, a huge amount for a poor college kid. “Seth, from my doctor’s appointment this summer I found out that I had grown another ½” to my current 5’10-1/2 height. So I'm positive I'm on my final growth spurt! I just KNOW it will work. But I got to get started soon before my growth stops.” “Ok, man, whatever. Man, you really are obsessed with size. You've got that dysmorphia thing, haha. I men, you are already jacked, you should be happy.” “Never big enough, bro!” the handsome stud chuckled in reply. “So how does it work? Is it a pill or something?” “Naw, it's an injection. It works from just one single injection. Each vial contain enough liquid for 5 injections, even though only one is needed. This is where you come in, bro!” “Me? What for?” “Well, the thing is, this shit is really expensive. And, like I said you only need one injection, but each vial has enough for five injections. So, I wanted to ask, If I get the Elongro, could I sell you an injection too? It would help me out and I would appreciate it. My girlfriend already said she'd take one of the injections too. Help a brother out, it's fuckin' expensive stuff. I'm not even asking for the full price of a dose, just $200 to help me cover.” “C'mon Trev, don't ask me that. I don't... Man, I don’t think I’ve grown in a couple of years, it would most likely be a waste on me.” “But, Bro, even if you had the slimmest chance to be just a little taller and stronger, wouldn’t you want to take it?” Trevor tries his best to pitch the idea. Seth rebuffs his approaches but he knows what will get Seth on board. “Hey, you know that girl that works at the rec center you’ve been crushing of the past year? Remember how you told me you overheard her talking with her friends that she said she would never date a guy under 5’10 and 175 lbs? She says that because she's pretty tall for a girl, like 5'9 or so. Just think, buddy! If you put some size maybe she’ll give you a second look!” Trevor sees the gears turning in Seth's head. He still seems unconvinced but he can tell he's touched a nerve. “C’mon man, you always told me how you felt like you were too small in high school to be one of the jocks on campus even though you were on the baseball team. This could be your chance to put on some size and least be average height. Wouldn’t you want that, little buddy?” Trevor tosses in ‘little buddy’ because he knows Seth hates when bigger dudes call him that. And that seals the deal. “Ugh. Fine, bro. Whatever," he says with annoyed defeat. "And hey, I’m way past puberty so there’s no risk, right? Other than I’ll be out $200." “That’s the spirit, pal! I promise this will be worth the investment!” * Seth walks to his room to collect the cash. He can't help but shake his head at Trevor's crazy antics. "This stuff is never going to work on me," he says to himself. But, knowing how into this Trevor is he knows that the right thing to do is to support his roomie and at least give it a try. Plus, that way when it doesn't work, he can hold that over his head! Or at least Trev will give it up and move onto something different, just like he always does. The following weekend Trevor makes five hour drive up North to Canada. Upon his return he excitedly enters their apartment and makes himself known. That night, the two friends administer the shot. They both have it their our heads that the effect would be immediate, even though all of the documentation says they won't know right away whether or not it works. But the placebo effect is very real those first few days and it drives the two crazy not knowing for sure if they will see an impact, but the excitement builds. That night Seth dream of growing taller, standing over guys who always made fun of his short height and pushing his skinny body around... being seen as tall... growing again... finally becoming the man he'd always wanted to be. Not being relegated to playing right field in baseball having never hit a home run. All those guys looking down at Seth! He jolts awake and realizes his dick is tenting the sheets. Even though he was skeptical at first, he can't help but think how deep down he must want this injection to work. How badly he needs to become bigger and stronger. He chuckles, knowing how slim the odds are and fades back to sleep. After the first few days of no noticeable changes the two both act as if nothing has happened. Although they both seem to be constantly checking themselves against the heights of familiar landmarks and people, including each other. Inside Trevor is still stoked, convinced that he will reap significant gains. Knowing that Seth hasn't grown upwards in years, he knows it likely won't work for his friend, but he was happy he at least he got $200 out of Seth. Truthfully, Trevor loved having Seth as his roommate. Not only from a personality standpoint, but he loved being the bigger and more dominant man compared to Seth. It was nothing against Seth, it just fed well into Trevor's desire to get bigger and build up his physique. Whenever they went out, Seth always demurred to Trevor when choosing which movies to watch, with parties to go to, what girls to hang with. Trevor was the alpha apparent. Two weeks after the injections the two are eating dinner and Trevor notices Seth is wolfing down a ton of food. "Hungry, there Seth?" "Dude," he says between mouthfuls of grilled chicken, "I can't remember the last time I was this hungry. I just can't get to feeling full lately... it's so weird..." Trevor chuckles as he watches Seth go back to finishing his chicken before starting on some brats. Trevor shakes his head, teasing Seth that “the freshman 15 is real, just delayed for you" before getting up to do the dishes. A bit later the two are hanging out watching TV and chatting about classes and wanting to catch the new Spiderman movie. Seth rubs his full round belly and ponders, pausing, before finally asking his roomie a surprising question. "Have you been making any gains in the gym? I was thinking rather than just running maybe I would try lifting some." Trevor is taken off guard. He knew Seth never went to the rec center other than to run, and certainly never made his way into the weight room. "I was thinking... maybe... I could like... join you sometime?" While Seth has managed to stay relatively thin, having a fitness obsessed roommate might be starting to rub off on him a bit. "Its just, with how I've been eating... maybe I should," he jokes. "I'll get fat if I keep eating like this. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a bit more muscle for the ladies... maybe get some attention for once. It seems to have worked out well for you!" "Hell yeah buddy! I would love to be your training partner. Hell, I was thinking I might want to make a career out of it in the future, either personal training or physical therapy. I'd love to show you the ropes, you could be my first client! But, don't worry, little buddy, I won't charge you." Seth's face tightens at the words 'little buddy' and Trevor instantly feels bad. "Er...sorry, Seth. But yeah, even though you haven't been lifting I can tell you are a little bit thicker lately, just from all the food you've been eating. I'm still making gains, but it's slow going." The next day Trevor takes Seth to the gym for his first weightlifting workout. Seth marvels at the poundages that Trevor buddy can lift. Trevor boasts that he can bench 225 lbs ten times and Seth seems to be in shock when he performs the feat. On his turn, Seth can barely do 135 lbs five times. He is disappointed but his new trainer props him up. "Hey, dude, honestly that's a great weight, especially for your first workout. When I started I couldn't even bench 95 lbs once!" Seth perks up at that. As the two leave the weight room Seth notices the hot girl at the towel desk, Stacy. He is understandably smitten as he steals glances. “Fuck, Trevor. That Stacy is one super hot chick.” "Oh I hear ya man. I certainly don't mind the eye candy when I come here to lift everyday. Would love to get into that...if I weren't currently dating Brooke, that is, haha." Grinning stupidly, Seth replies. "Yeah, she's so hot Trev.... but I doubt she'd pay much attention to a guy like me." Seth can't help but notice her height, not too far off from Trevor's. Noticeably taller than he is, certainly. That seems to be the case with a lot of girls on campus. So many of the college girls and guys seem so tall lately. Trevor laughs and reminds his friend that time in the gym won't hurt and that if he stays consistent and pushes himself that she won't care how tall he is. "Muscles always seal the deal!" Trevor chuckles and throws up a double bicep pose, flexing his impressive exposed arms, grinning cockily, causing Seth to roll his eyes. "Trev, doubt you'll be saying that when you are a six footer with me looking WAY up at you!” Seth jokes. "Then you will be tall AND muscular. I'm going to look like a little kid next to you.... so yeah, I better start lifting more I guess!" * A few weeks go by and Seth has been sticking with the gym, much to the surprise of his roommate. While it wasn't like Trevor had no faith in his buddy, he just knew the dropout rates for new lifters was very high. Trevor continues to coach and direct Seth, both in the weight room and giving him advice on his diet . His training advice is sound, and both can already see an improvement in Seth's physique, though it's not been easy for the new gymrat. "Ugh, Trevor, is it normal to ache all the time? I can never seem to really recover..." “Haha, buddy that's part of the deal. Though the more you lift the less sore you should be. It could be that you're not taking enough time to recover. Could be that your muscles are actually growing or any number of reasons. Just growing pains. But, it means that you are actually working and growing, so be excited, man!” Before long, Seth begins to notice that his shoes are uncomfortably tight. He'd worn size 9s since he finished growing taller a few years prior. At first he figures it's the workout. One day after class he hits the mall to get a new pair. While Trevor hangs out at their apartment he gets a text from Seth: [Trev, you won't believe it. I had to get new shoes! Size 10.5!! Crazy!!] Tervor's mind races, trying to process Seth's text. He'd been denying Seth's progress, playing it off as beginner gains. But could his smaller buddy actually be growing? A hint of fear and jealousy permeates his mind. He thinks to himself how his size 11 shoes haven't been feeling any tighter. He calms down and rationalizes that maybe the little guy is going to have one small growth spurt. There is still no way Seth will ever catch him. He convinces himself that must be growing too, even if his shoes still fit. I mean, your feet don't HAVE to get bigger to increase your height, right? Trevor remembers how he is up 7 lbs to 192 lbs, the biggest he's ever been and he doesn't seem any more muscular or more fat, so he assumes that extra weight is coming from added height. The thought calms his nerves and he smiles to himself, excited for the growth that lies ahead. * It is now six weeks after the shot and the two are once again in the gym working out. Seth has been make even more noteworthy progress and has settled into a dedicated routine. This time Trevor brings a notebook. In the locker room after the lifting session Trevor confronts his protege. "Dude, I am a terrible trainer! I forgot to take your initial stats to see how you are coming along. So let's start now, better late than never. We'll use this notebook to make sure you keep progressing. It's good motivation too to see your lifts go up week after week. Ok, how tall again?” "5 ft 8" Seth says, slightly annoyed. "Well, just a bit under actually." “Really? Are you sure?” Trevor looks at Seth, unconvinced. At first he is apprehensive to find out for sure, but he can't deny that Seth looks at least a little taller. Wanting to be a trainer though, he knows he needs to be accurate and thorough with his log books. "Nah, dude, let's find out for sure." Trevor directs Seth to stand against the wall while he takes a tape measure out of his bag. He measures his buddy. "Just a hair under 5 ft 9, dude!" Seth eyes widen and he looks at Trevor excitedly. He shouts, "Maybe that stuff is working for me! I've never been over 5'8 before!” “Dude, that's awesome! You're not quite AS tiny as before, haha. Ok c'mon let's take your weight.” Next, Seth hops on the scale. It reads 160 lbs. “Great job, Seth. That's a 15 lb gain in just 6 weeks. Those are pretty good beginner gains, dude!” Seth can't be more excited as Trevor notes his huge grin. He is thrilled! “Ok man, let's get your other measurements for the log.” Trevor tapes all of Seth's a major muscles groups and writes them in the notebook. Arms: 14.5” Chest: 38.5” Waist: 31” Quads: 21.5” Calves: 14” Trevor can't help but mentally compare his own stats to feed his ego. While Seth may have crept up in height he took solace that he still had him beat everywhere. He knew his 17” guns, 42” pecs, 24.5” legs and 15.5” calves were all well bigger while his tight 30” waist was even more ripped than his little buddy's. Not to mention, from what he had seen of his roommate in the showers, he had more 'down there' as well, the thought of which gave him a reassuring grin. “Not bad, dude! You've got some really big arms compared to the rest of you, definitely a strength. A good one to have too. Chicks dig big guns.” "I still can't believe it, Dude. I grew! I grew!" he keeps saying, trying not to draw a ton of attention to himself. "This is awesome. If it's working for me, it MUST be working for you too! Do you want me to measure your height too?" Tervor shifts a bit, clearly looking uncomfortable and conflicted. "It'll only take a minute... come on... this is exciting!!" Trevor shrugs and submits. Seth grabs and extends the tape measure, coming in closer to take his height. As he does, Trevor can't help but notice how much Seth seems to have closed that gap. The difference between 5ft8 and 5ft10.5 is noticeable, but an inch and a half really isn't. From a distance the two could look the same height! The thought causes the competitive trainer to shudder at the thought. He's always been bigger and taller than his roommate. "And it'll stay that way," he thinks to himself as he stands as straight as you can. The wait for Seth to declare the number feels like hours. Finally, he speaks. "Five Ten, Trev. Still." Seth pauses and watches for Trevor's reaction. He seems deflated momentarily before regaining composure. Seth attempts to reassure him. "Maybe it works different on people depending on their growth stage... I'm sure your growth will come soon!!" Seth says, slapping his back, "Hell, you've made great gains in the gym so something is happening!" Trevor seems to take this to heart, but Seth can tell he isn't completely convinced. Even so, while Seth is jubilant about his growth, he keeps it to myself to not offend his roommate. "Hey Trev, how about you have Brooke come over? I can cook us dinner tonight. I'm starved!!" he says as they grab their bags and head for the door. On the way back to their condo Trevor is obviously dejected but does his best to hide it. He can't believe that Seth is only about an inch shorter than him. And what happened to 5'10 and a HALF? Seth must've missed that last ½ inch, he tells himself. Still, it hurts not feeling as big. With the overall presence of his ripped muscles on his frame Trevor always felt like he towered over his smaller roommate. Not so much anymore. That night Brooke comes over as Seth is whipping up a feast in the kitchen. Having listened to Trevor go on an on about how important a big diet is for big muscles, Seth knew a big nutritious meal would cheer his friend up, let alone sate his own growing hunger. By now the two are well into the second semester of the school year. Everyone is deep into their studies neither had seen Brooke in about three weeks. When she comes in Trevor is stunned at how gorgeous she looks, even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt a stirring in his crotch as his girlfriend made her entrance. The FaceTime chats that they had been relegated to just didn't do her justice. She comes in wearing heels and is almost as tall as Seth! Trevor remembered her being about three inches shorter than Seth when he first introduced her. He now realizes she must be about 5'7 now! Seth too was stunned, noting how tall and sleek she looked. He recalled how Trevor told him he gave her the shot too and it seemed it was working on her too, maybe even more so than Seth! "Hey boys!", she said as she entered. “Hey babe! Damn, I've missed you. You are smokin'!” She goes over to her boyfriend gave him a kiss. Seth notices that Trevor didn't have to bend over like he used to, or at all to kiss her on the lips. She looks over at her boyfriend's roomie. "Hey Seth! You are looking good! I can tell you've been hitting the gym. Trevor said you'd been lifting with him lately. I can see that you've put on some muscle. You're going to have to move up size large, that medium shirt is looking a little tight! Trev, Babe, you must be a fantastic trainer!" The trio have a great evening catching up with each other and enjoying the grilled Caribbean chicken dish that Seth prepared. That night, after the friends retire to their rooms, Trevor goes to town fucking Brooke. All night long he had been staring at his girl full of lust. She just looked so fit and healthy. She was always fit, but she seemed to be on a another level tonight. Maybe it was the longer legs. He also couldn't deny that he was in much need of some release due to the frustration that he seemingly wasn't growing nearly fast enough. * Over the next few weeks, Seth is like a demon in the gym, pushing himself harder and harder and harder. Trevor watches and celebrates his gains, proud that his training techniques are working so effectively. And yet jealously, he see's his buddy making gains so quickly. While Seth started out benching 135, he's now pushing 185 for the same number of reps easily. It's an astounding change. And his shirts keep getting tighter and tighter, to the point now that he's started borrowing old shirts from Trevor! Trevor shakes his head, barely believing that his supposed small roommate needed them now. The duo keep pushing themselves in the gym, even during finals. They can hardly believe that the semester is almost over. It's even harder to believe that two are both getting summer jobs, though Trevor's will be out of state. "Sucks I won't be able to train with you for a couple of months, Trev... it's really been awesome. I've never been so buff in my life." Trevor has recently noticed that Seth's voice has gotten deeper over the last few weeks. Luckily, though, Seth hasn't seemed to have caught him in height. It's something they both have been watching for out of the corners of their eyes. During their last lift together for the school year Seth points to his notebook in Trevor's bag. "Maybe we should take stats again so that I can keep track of the progress myself?" “Erm...yeah man. Of course. Let's see how much mass you've put on, bro!” he says, purposely not mentioning height. The two head to the locker room and strip to their skivvies. Trevor notes how's Seth's body has developed so much that he's not too far behind himself, a thought that worries him. Seth steps on the scale first. The two watch it, with widening eyes, as it swings to 175 pounds. Seth's face brightens excitedly. "Dude... that's another 15 pounds in five weeks. NO WONDER none of my clothes fit!!! Oh wow I could tell I was getting some muscles when I look in the mirror, but this is awesome! Ok, let's take my other measurements. Bro, you are an awesome trainer!" The two high five and Trevor grabs the tape and steps up to Trevor. “Ok. Arms...16 and a quarter”. Woah dude. You are still rocking those huge guns, damn! And they are so defined, crazy, man.” Seth flexes his arm and Trevor watches, stunned, as the ball of muscle leaps into relief. It isn't huge, but a big, solid, undeniable lump of muscle bulges. It is the first time he has seen his roommate flex in any way. “Holy shit, Seth. Your peaks is sweet. Geezus. Ok, let's get the rest. Chest is...41”. Big gain of over two inches, wow. Waist is still 31”, so you're not getting fatter. It seems to be all muscle, dude! Legs...now 23”. Calves...another inch at 15. Those are some studly gains, dude! You're beginner gains won't quit!” “Thanks Trevor, I owe a ton of it to you bro!” “Any time, roomie! Ok move out the way so I can check my weight.” “Hey Trev, can you take my height?” “Erm...um yeah I suppose. You think you are still growing?” “I think so. I hope so.” It's the moment Trevor been dreading. Seth steps against the wall, standing as straight as he can. The anticipation is killing him. He WANTS to be bigger. HE WANT to be taller, even if it seems like he hasn't quite matched Trevor yet. Trevor measures him once... then again... and again. "Dude, what's up?" Seth asks. Trevor grins at him. Internally, Seth worries that he's hasn't grown anymore. Then shares the news. "You are five-ten now!" Now Seth understands the grin on Trevor's face. If he's 5ft10, that means... "Dude! Trevor, you must have grown TOO!!" The two high five, both ecstatic at each others' growth. "I told you, Trevor! It was only a matter of time!!" Trevor looks thrilled, FINALLY this drug was WORKING. Seth steps aside and readies his measurements without a word. It's clear he wants to know. He NEEDS to know. Seth first takes his weight, "200 pounds! Swole man, damn!!" And then he measures his height. "Almost 6ft, dude! You are nearly there!!!" * Trevor is so excited he could almost cry. He bear hugs Seth and lifts him off the ground, taking note of how newly solid and heavy Seth now feels. "Hell yeah buddy! We've both put on about an inch!” He sets his friend down. “But wait, you said 'almost 6 ft'. What was it really?” "Oh,...um...it was right at 5ft11.5. Maybe just a hair under.” Trevor's smile slightly wanes but he certainly can't be disappointed after the last measurement turned up no discernible growth. "But still, Seth, that's just about an inch of growth. I am totally going to hit 6 ft, I just know it!" “Hell yeah man, and maybe I can at least get to 'almost 6 ft' like you said, haha. Starting out at 5'8” I'd be more than happy being 'almost 6 ft'!” “I guess you were right, Seth. It does affect everyone a bit different. I mean, Brooke actually grew the fastest out of all us so far, she's put on like two and half inches.” “Sorta makes sense, I remember back in Junior High that the girls often grew faster at first compared to the boys. But yeah, man, it's working for Brooke though. She looks extra hot lately. Hope you don't mind me sayin'.” “Haha. No prob, dude. You can look, just don't touch!” The two laugh and high five again. Even though Trevor discovered that he is just slightly shorter than what Seth had originally let on, he is still joyous. His confidence that he always remain the bigger roommate returns. That night after the measurements Trevor meets up with Brooke for their last night together before they break from summer. Like him, she will also be away for the summer so they plan a last special night together. After eating at their favorite restaurant the two head home for some intimate time. Back at Trevor's condo, his excitement in the bedroom is palpable and spills over into his performance. “Woah there, tiger. What's gotten into you? I like it, stud.” Brooke asks, pleased at the sensations he is giving her. Brooke is also looking taller and more voluptuous than ever, further revving up the horny college stud. He proceeds to give her a heavy dicking from all the excitement at finally growing and making some noticeable muscle gains. He relays the news to Brooke and in the middle of their fucking she wants to be measured too. Trevor excitedly obeys and measure her now at 5 ft 8.5! He thinks to himself how his girlfriend is becoming quite the vixen before the two return to the bed for another round. The two, both enhanced and excited by the results of the Elongro, are able to go longer than they ever had before. The couple drift asleep in each other arms, Trevor dreaming of growing stronger, more muscular and taller than he could've ever imagined. To Be Continued... Jump to Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/16655-elongro/?do=findComment&comment=207069

    Liquid Manhood- Chapter Six

    A year long wait for Part Six, sorry, school got ahead of me and when I was finally free I wasn't in any mood to write. This part is mostly filler and some plot, more transformations to come in the next part though. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Read Part Five HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Six Chris lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling deep in thought. The room was still dark, but dim light shone through the gaps in the curtains. The light illuminated the cause of Chris’ thinking, a large tent in Melvin’s bed sheet, and two massive feet that hung out the end of that bed. A couple of months ago Melvin had been a small runty nerd who Chris could twist around his little finger, but then Melvin took some of the magical elixir home. Now Melvin was more confident, he was questioning Chris’ decisions more and he was keeping Chris awake with hour-long fuck sessions every single day. The only benefit to being kept up so late is that Chris had the time to think over the events of the past few days. That first day when he found out what had happened to Melvin had been the hardest. Hearing that deep voice over the phone made his heart drop, but he nearly died when he found Melvin. Melvin had directed Chris to come talk to him at some apartment, his nerdy roommate opened the door in just his underwear. He was now tall, built and from the look of the bulge in his briefs, hung like a donkey. Seeing Melvin had only added fuel to the theory that the elixir had a plan of its own, that the changes it caused weren't random. That in fact it mattered on what sort of person you were, an undeserving person would end up as unappealing, but a deserving person, as Melvin appeared to be, would end up owning mouthwatering pecs with big silver dollar sized nipples, abs you could wash clothes on and a bulge that looked like it could feed a small village. The conversation between the two roommates was awkward mainly because Chris could see the four girls who lived in the apartment had been fucked senseless for what must of been several days. From where Chris sat he could see the girls in a sleeping cum stained heap on a bed in a bedroom, the doors having been pulled off its hinges, they all had smiles on their faces. A smile which matched Melvin’s smug smirk, he knew the situation between them had changed. Melvin though didn’t rub it in that he was now a towering stallion compared to Chris, which Chris had expected. Instead he talked about what had happened to him and what he’d thought was going on with the elixir. In the days following Melvin’s marathon fuck session both boys shared their theories on how the elixir affected the user. Chris’ theory that who you were mattered held more water then anything Melvin offered. It was nearly confirmed when Chris and, the now meathead, Melvin found out what happened to the people dosed by the water bottles from the school gym that Chris had tainted. The equipment manager Thaddeus Stern had ballooned into some ebony black beast of muscle and manhood, he was instantly recruited by football team to his own delight. Yuri was also dosed too, and to Chris’ delight he didn't end up huge. Instead the slim swimmer had swelled into some hairy bear. A gut of muscle and fat replacing his toned abs. Melvin didn't think the change was that bad, Yuri looked pretty intimidating, an opinion which seemed to be shared by others. Yuri had been recruited to the football team too. The third person to be dosed had surprised Chris. Coach Peters had changed and it seemed to have knocked him out of the funk that losing his football team had caused. His flabby gut had been sucked in and tightened, his hair darkened and his face lost a good 20 years of wear and tear. The man who now stomped around campus in a sweat suit with a big cigar in his mouth was nothing like the old Coach Peters. Scary was the word that Melvin had used after he'd been cornered and almost forced to join the football team by the new Peters. He was rebuilding the team and taking anyone who even looked like they lifted weights. Chris though was half attracted to the new barrel chested daddy like-coach. He would have expected that Peters to get the bad side of the elixir, but instead Peters’ love and loyalty to the boys on his team had instead made the elixir turn Peters into a better man than he already was. Chris’ reminiscing was ruined by the loud wet slapping coming from Melvin’s bed. The big lug had thrown back his blankets and was fisting his Pringles can cock with both of his meaty fists. Chris just rolled over and buried his face into his pillow hoping Melvin would only jerk off once this morning. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Good workout today man” Thaddeus’ Barry White-like voice said Both he and Sean were standing in the locker room of the school gym, they had it to themselves as the other patrons seemed to flee the room when they both came in sweaty from their workout and stuffed into gym shorts that looked close to bursting. They'd both showered on the far side of the showers from each other, both trying to sneak in a quick wank, though it was hard to keep two massive muscle men jerking wrist fat monster cocks secret. Neither of them brought it up, even thought they’d both cum at the same time. “Yea, good lift” Sean agreed, pulling on his shirt The two muscle men were both buttoning up their shirts, both having the same issue of pulling the shirt together over their pecs. Thaddeus with his glistening ebony pec pillows and Sean with is fire-red furry slab like chest. Sean and Thaddeus had met soon after Coach Peters had recruited them both for football team and they’d become fast friends. Mainly it was due to them being forced together as they were both of similar size, but they shared an intense interest in video games, so a friendship had blossomed. A tv bolted up to the wall loudly played some sporting news show, the announcer worriedly talking about the removal of some big name athlete from the Dallas Cowboys because of some sort of disease. Sean had seen the guys face all over the internet and he’d even jerked off a fair bit to the guys modeling pics. Sean gave up on closing his shirt, his entire hairy pec cleavage on show. The button just below his pecs barely holding the shirt closed. “You coming round mine tonight to game” Sean asked pulling up the zipper of his jeans again Since his last growth spurt Sean had found a guy on Craigslist who was selling a tonne of clothes in sizes that could actually contain him, but now after a couple of months of actually working out, playing football and slowly growing he was beginning to outgrow them. Thaddeus, was himself just stuffing his overpacked undies into some jeans. He pulled the zipper up and gave his hefty bulge a good grope with a big black hand. “Nah man” Thaddeus chuckled deeply “Got a date tonight” Sean laughed “What again… did last nights go so well” Thaddeus left their gaming session last night with some cheerleader under this arm. The big black stud had been grinning ear to ear earlier when they started their workout, so it must of gone well. “Yea, yea, it did, nearly broke her bed” Thaddeus laughed, doing a little thrusting movement with his hips “But its not the same girl… her friend" “Slut” Sean laughed lightly punching Thaddeus’ shoulder Thaddeus packed up his gym bag and seemed ready to leave, obviously eager to get to this date. “Yea pretty much, I used to be some pathetic virgin” the black stud laughed “But since my growth spurt I've been getting pussy every day… even multiple pussies sometimes” Sean felt his eyes roll, Thaddeus just laughed at his reaction. The two friends said goodbye and the black beast thudded out of the locker room, leaving Sean to struggle to get his clown feet into sneakers that were falling apart because they were at least a size too small. The walk back to his dorm room was quick, but it was a constant barrage of stares as he stomped across campus. He knew his heavy bulge was bouncing from thigh to thigh with each step and his pecs were dangerously close to launching the remaining buttons of his shirt across the path ahead of him. Sean was struggling with his keys at his door, his big meaty fingers fumbling over the tiny, little pieces of metal. “Sean” a quiet voice asked Sean turned to look and just saw an empty corridor. Then he looked downwards. A nervous yet smiling brown haired boy stared up at him. It was the guy he’d brought all the old clothes from. A guy of barely 5ft2 who for some reason owned clothes ranging from XXL to XXXXL, Sean didn’t ask why. “Hey... Ben right” he asked, hoping he’d got the name right Ben nodded as Sean turned away from his door to look down at Ben. The smaller guys eyes widening as he stared at the thick overhang of Sean’s pecs. Thankfully his eyes weren’t looking down to the overstuffed bulge of his pants which was shockingly close to Ben’s eye level. They were silent for a few moments, Ben just watching as Sean’s pecs slowly heaved with each breath. Sean broke the silence “So, why are you here” He knew that Ben didn’t live in the dorm. He loved in one of big frat houses on the other side of campus. Ben muttered something, sounded like he was nervously gathering his words. “Just… just... wanted to see if you wanted to hang out” Ben asked, smiling slightly Sean wondered if Ben had actually wanted to ask something else, but the sight of Sean’s hulking hairy form had knocked all the confidence out of the little guy. Sean chuckled slightly “Sure, I was going play some games, but we can hang out” Sean opened his door, the gust of warm musky air washed over them both. Ben actually squeaked in surprise. “It's only a single-player game, but I’m sure we could find you something to do” Sean said, letting Ben pass into the room Sean followed him in, giving his big bulge a quick rearrange before closing the door and trapping the little guy. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Do you have any books on witchcraft” Barrett asked up to the librarian Without even looking pass their glasses and down to the runty Barrett, they muttered a floor number. Barrett had gotten used to being ignored since his fall from grace. He quickly headed up the stairs, taking two at a time, which was a stretch for his short skinny legs. Luckily no one would recognize him, he wasn't the Barrett anyone on campus would recognize. A few months ago Barrett had received an email about his campuses links to magic and witchcraft, since then he’d been researching the subject. He’d read more books and written more down in these months then he’d ever done in his life. It had started as a simple way of passing the time and maybe distracting him from his diminished body and from the housekeeper's son cleaning the swimming pool shirtless, but it had become a desperate passion once AJ returned home. The doctors had said that AJ had a muscle wasting disease, the same thing that the doctors has said to Barrett. AJ had lost his position in the NFL and returned him a broken man. AJ was nearly as small and runty as Barrett was and was getting smaller all the time. His personality shift was more dramatic than Barrett’s had been, Barrett regularly could hear AJ crying himself to sleep. When AJ was a towering beast Barrett had never even heard a single word spoken in a unsure tone, let alone seen him shed a tear. The CDC had even visited the house to check it out for any environmental causes, they found nothing. Just like they’d found nothing at the athletic department on campus. Barrett had actually stopped off to see how things had changed. It was just the same as Barrett had left it, without any reminder that Barrett had ever existed. The CDC had even kept an office on campus, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything. Just some guy sitting alone in an office bouncing a tennis ball off the far wall. The suddenly collapse of his brothers obscenely manly physique and the CDC’s continued inability to find a medical cause had only pushed Barrett closer towards witchcraft and magic. It had knocked Barrett out of his depression, he’d become more active, more set on finding an answer. He’d be researching anything and everything that could link to his and AJ’s situation. Quickly moving away from any sort of scientific explanation and focusing almost entirely on the thin hope that something beyond explanation had caused his and AJ’s predicament. He came to the correct floor, wheezing, he was so unfit now. He moved through the cases and desks looking for some sort of sign directing him to his answer. The floor was pretty much empty of students. Just one guy with long black hair sitting at a desk with headphones on. Barrett stopped to stare at his guy, he was well built. Large pecs straining at his shirt and thick arms gripping the table. Barrett bit his lip, muscle really got to him, his little cock hardening in his pants. The guy let out a moan and Barrett could see a hand was beneath his shirt feeling up his pecs. Barrett knelt down to check under the table, having to look between the legs of chairs and desks between him and the big guy. A blond haired head was moving back and forth between the guys massive jean clad legs. Barrett let out a gasp and scurried between some bookcases. He heard a sloppy sounding slap and a guy, probably the blond, taking in deep breaths. “Zach, did you hear something… I think someone is here” one voice said between deep breaths “No one is here” another deeper voice said “Get back to sucking bitch” There was slapping sound and a return to wet sucking noises. Barrett was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against a bookcase. His cock rock hard at the sound of the blond struggling to deepthroat whatever this Zach had between his legs. Down the line of books, Barrett saw a massive ornate bookcase. Leather bound books of various sizes filled its shelves and a sign above in posh looking gold lettering read. “Tiberius J.J. Haber Occult Library” Barrett jumped to his feet, for the first time thankful that he was small, his feet making no sound as he moved. He ran down the aisle towards the bookcase. As he approached he saw how run down the bookcase was. The golden sign was faded, the wood chipped and in placed moldy. The books were covered in thick dust, but Barrett saw a few finger marks. A couple of books on the middle shelf had been touched recently, but only those books. He strained to reach up to them, again hating how small he was now. “Did you see that guy… getting a blowjob in the library” an insanely rich and deep voice boomed from down the aisle “From a guy…” another voice stated sounding annoyed “Damn” the deep voice muttered “I mean, nothing against gays, Chris, you know that…” The other guy, Chris, just sighed loudly. Barrett fell back to another set of shelves and hid behind them as the two men approached. One was tall with strong features, almost model like in his movements. The other was a brute, towering nearly as tall as the bookcases and nearly as wide as the aisle. The massive dude had a hand down his shorts and was obviously scratching at his balls. Chris though was inspecting the occult bookcase. Chris gently lifted the middle books away from shelf and tapped at the wood behind them. “Good, it’s still jammed” Chris said returning the books to their place “Huh” the big guy said, he’d been busy sniffing his hand after scratching his nuts “The compartment where we found the magic book… we jammed it so we’d know if someone else found it” Chris said, trying not to raise his voice at the giant guy The big guy's viking like face made an expression of understanding. His heavy lantern jaw moving to make an ‘oh’ sound. “It’s still jammed so whoever was asking about witchcraft never found it” Chris mused “Wait… how’d you know someone asked about that” the big guy asked “I paid the librarian to call me if someone did, why do you think we even rushed over here” Chris said smirking arrogantly “We don’t want anyone finding out what we did… well not till I’m your size” Chris gave a playful backhanded tap to the big guy’s abs which were showing through his shirt. The two turned and left, Barrett’s head spinning, could magic actually be real, what where they are hiding. He waited for the big guys wide back to vanish around a corner before slowly he started to follow them. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean was laying on his front on his bed. It was too small for him. His pecs were hanging off the end and he was awkwardly propping his meaty arms on the edge so he could play his game properly. His big mits pressing buttons and his TV loudly sounding out the gun shots of his character. “You ok back there little dude” Sean asked peeking over his shoulder to Ben Ben was laying between Sean’s legs, the big guys legs bent and pressing down on Ben’s back. Ben’s face was pressed between Sean’s rounded muscle ass and his tongue deep between the cheeks. “Just slap my ass once if yes, twice for no” Sean said, trying not to chuckle Ben’s little hand flew up and slapped the rock solid left cheek of Sean’s ass and then fell back to gripping at Sean’s thigh. “Good boy” Sean said returning to his game “In a bit I’m move across to my gaming chair, you can suck or sit on my dick if you like” Sean’s cock was rock hard and laying between his legs and throbbing against Ben’s tummy. “Well you going suck or ride it either way, I’ll let you choose which happens first” Sean’s let out a deep moan and almost crushed his controller as Ben excitedly assaulted his asshole with his talented and surprisingly large tongue. ——————————————————————————————————————————— On opposite sides of campus, two groups of friends were meeting. One a group of young men who were busy planning the next phase of their Homes for Humanity project. The other a group of young men planning which news agency’s website they were going to bring down with a denial of service attack. They were in similar number and a similar makeup of guys, just different in personalities. But one thing that these groups shared was that the refreshments at their meetings tasted weird.
  7. hptycoon49

    Dorm Alpha [Part II Added 2/4]

    This story has been a scene I've had in my head for a long time. My plan is to make this a series. I hope you all like it. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Dorm Alpha: Part 1 Alex’s eyes snapped open, it was dark in the dorm room except for the light from his digital clock on the bedside table showing 3am. Something was tickling his chest. He looked down but his view was obscured by two giant rock-solid mounds of hair and muscle. The sensation continued, tingles shot from his nipple down his torso. Alex sat upward, the two side-by-side twin mattresses he slept on creaked as he adjusted his bulk. As he sat up, he found the “something” tickling his nipple was his puny roommate Peter, suckling desperately on his muscle tit. Alex pushed him off roughly and he fell to the floor. “Fuck off Pete!” Alex hissed. Peter sat on the floor jerking his cock, staring up at his gargantuan roommate. Eyes wild with lust. Alex looked to the other side of the dorm where a pile of several other college boys slept soundly on the floor. He’d long ago claimed the second bed for himself. He smiled as flashes of the previous evening’s fuckfest and worship session replayed through his mind. Suddenly, Alex realized he needed to take a piss. He got up, as he did so he roughly pushed past Pete still jerking his dick. Then he ducked to exit the dorm room and went down the hall and into the bathroom butt-naked. Alex sidled up next to a urinal, lifted his python and let loose a torrent of hot piss. Relieved, Alex walked to the sink and took a look at himself in the mirror. “Fuck” he blurted out. Then a shit-eating grin spread across his face. Even he was still blown away by the body before him. Nearly 7 feet tall, 350 lbs, ripped to shreds and covered from the chest down in thick, dark hair. Alex was a sight to behold. He lifted his arms above his head, smashing his biceps into his ears as he did so, relishing in his obscene size and muscularity. Alex sucked in his stomach and crunched down his abs. Eight enormous, deeply etched bricks framed with sharp obliques like fingers accentuated an almost comically tight waist. He held this position, flexing hard and watching thick gnarled veins surface across his torso, clearly visible even through the thick layer of body hair. Alex then slowly and gracefully lowered his arms into a double biceps pose, flaring his lats out wider and wider, making him look like a fuckin Dorito. Shoulders the size of watermelons literally burst from his body. Each head of muscle, etched deep and thick, even without a pump. As Alex’s eyes swept across the mirror, drinking in his gargantuan frame, his cock, which had been resting heavily on the bathroom counter began to fill with blood. Alex’s eyes, which had been focused on his meaty-as-all-fuck traps looked down at his cock as it lengthened along the bathroom counter approaching the sink faucet. Seventeen, eighteen inches perhaps? At some point he had just stopped measuring. It’s grown every day since he started college. Since he started eating and lifting like a beast. Alex smirked as his cock finally reached its final length, four inches from the backsplash. “Guess I have a new goal” he thought to himself. Just then, he heard the sound of a toilet flushing and the door to the stall behind him opened up. Without ever turning around, or indeed, dropping his double bicep pose, Alex called to the little runt exiting the stall. “Hey Brett-y. Wanna feel some muscle?” The kid froze like a deer in headlights. Brett lived at the other end of the hall. Quiet guy, kept to himself. Probably didn't weigh more than 150 lbs wet. Alex dropped his arms. Letting them relax against his sides. His lats pushed his arms out to 45 degrees. “Come here Brett-y, don’t be shy. I want you to feel my glutes. I’ve really been focusing on them lately.” Alex flexed his glute muscles with perfect control making the feathered muscles twitch up and down. Brett inched up to Alex, trembling head to foot. His head only reaching the small of Alex’s back. All the while Alex had remained facing the mirror, staring at himself. His body was so large that as Brett stepped closer he was entirely obscured by muscle. Because of Alex's height, Brett had to put his hands out at eye level to touch his ass. He squeaked when his hands felt the hot, hard as iron muscle in front of him. The smell was overwhelming, intoxicating. It made Brett's head spin and very quickly he began cleaning Alex's ass with his tongue. Drinking it in. The feeling of Brett’s tongue probing his ass cheeks caused Alex's giant member to stiffen even more if possible. He brought his left arm back up high and began to worship his own bicep. Alex flexed hard, the bulging ball of muscle pumped bigger and bigger. Alex watched himself in the mirror as his thick powerful tongue licked the titanic bicep tracing the powerful veins on his left arm. Alex grabbed hold of his monstrous cock with the other arm, all the while Brett's tongue probed deeper and deeper. Alex pressed his huge, beefy, calloused hand on top of his dick, pinning it down to the sink counter. He then began grinding his monstrous cock back and forth, relishing in how his hands, huge as they were, looked tiny in comparison to his giant dick. “Deeper Brett. Really get in there” Alex growled. Brett could only moan with pleasure at being surrounded by so much hot muscle. He pushed his head in deeper and Alex relaxed his glutes allowing Brett access to his hole. Alex could have crushed Brett’s skull with a single flex and he knew it. It would be all too easy to snuff out his life. Alex puffed out his chest. The slabs of meat pushed outward, the thick hair on his pecs tickled Alex’s chin. He was a fuckin stud, the ultimate alpha. No one past, present or future who ever lived in this dorm would ever approach his level of superiority and he was only 19. Had only started growing a year ago. He never stopped thinking about growth. Food, Muscle, and Sex was all he ever thought about. With that he let go of his monstrous dick. His cock swung upwards like a baseball bat smashing into his enormous pec cleavage. Alex flexed his pecs along his dick, the hair and muscle stimulating the red-hot iron rod. With Brett’s tongue still stimulating his hole, Alex raised his arms up one last time, flexing every part of his body, expanding in every direction. It was too much. The muscle drove him mad and cock convulsed firing thick college boy spunk onto the ceiling. Alex grabbed his cock, still spewing jizz and aimed it at the bathroom sink. He watched enthralled as his mammoth alpha cock filled the sink nearly halfway up with cum. So thick it didn't drain down. “Fuck Brett, look at that” Alex said. “I'm such a fucking stud! That's more cum than the whole football team jizzes in a month I bet!.... Brett?” Brett was on the floor, dazed from his own epic orgasm being surrounded by Alex's beefy hairy glutes. Alex scooped up Brett like a ragdoll and carried him out to the common area where he deposited him on the couch. Alex went back to his room, opened the door, ducked and went inside. Puney Pete was still sitting on the floor leaning against Alex's bed snoring loudly, hand still on his dick. As Alex got into bed he purposely slapped Pete's face with his weighty flaccid dick. Alex chuckled to himself. Just a few hours till breakfast he thought. With that, the Alex drifted off to sleep. He had a big day tomorrow. In fact, everyday was big and getting bigger.
  8. countmuscle

    Freshman Roommate (Part 2)

    Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 2: Winter break crawled by. I had returned home to see my family for three long weeks. Frank was the only thing on my mind from dawn till dusk. In the midst of wholesome family activities, the memory of Frank's unnatural, bulging, hyper-sexualized body kept intruding. I thought of Frank's tren-fueled mentality, his body pushed to the limits of muscular development; of him single-mindedly devouring fuel, injecting roids, and lifting weights all winter break. He was out of control. Obsessed. Animalistic. A freak. When I finally headed back to campus, it was with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. The bus from the airport seemed to hit every red light. The minutes crawled by. My heart beat faster with each passing mile. — At last, I got to the door of our room. I heard a faint sound within, almost like a moaning. My heart leaped. Frank was home! Without knocking, I walked right in. The first thing that hit me was the smell — like a Mack truck of deep, intoxicating musk, coupled with the scent of fresh cum. Then I noticed the cum splattered on the walls, on the floor, on the bed. Like someone had just shot massive loads out of a water gun. The room was a war zone, with jock straps, empty protein powder containers and dirty gym clothes scattered everywhere. Then I saw Frank. First and foremost, even in my fantasies, I had forgotten how big he was. The dorm room looked like a doll's house compared to him. There was an Alice in Wonderland quality, like he had taken a potion that made him too large for the small room. Frank was lying on his back on the comparatively tiny bed. He was naked except for a white jock strap. His dark body hair was buzzed short, yet his thick beard was longer than usual. The mattress dipped dramatically under his weight. His cheeks were flushed and his jacked body was flexed. He locked eyes with me -- a serious expression on his red, sweaty face. “James…” he said weakly. With one swollen arm he was stroking his throbbing cock, which had popped out of the jock strap and looked like it was about to explode. Then I realized the other hand was holding a long, black dildo, which he was pumping in and out of his hairy hole. (The dildo was hard to spot at first beneath his bulging quads.) With each pump, his abs convulsed from a 6 pack into an 8 pack. Frank wasn't looking at porn, he was just writhing on the bed -- as if overcome by his own body. He flexed an arm and licked it, rubbed his hand up and down his huge pecs. He locked eyes with me. I laid down my bags, peeled off my winter jacket, and approached him. The dildo he was ramming into his hole must be 8 inches around, I thought. "James...I've been takin' so much tren... Making me so horny bro..." he whispered, gritting his teeth. Sweat was beaded on his red, veiny forehead as he pegged himself. "Couldn't wait for you to get here..." A word about Frank’s voice. In some ways it was as sexy as his body. You have to imagine when they deepen someone’s voice on TV so they can remain anonymous — that’s how scary deep it was. Only it was lightened by a boyish quality I can’t describe, a tiny Texan drawl, and a very slight lisp. What drove me crazy was how it was so gentle and even delicate — yet deeper than any human voice I’d heard. In some ways, it was just like Frank himself, an innocent soul in the body of a superhuman monster. I leaned over Frank and kissed his beautiful mouth. His longer beard felt rough but his lips were soft as ever. I took over the dildo from his hand and continued pumping it in and out, slowly. "AhH! Bro. I missed you," Frank said. I thrust the dildo deeper inside him. "Fuck!" A spurt of precum shot out of his quivering, red dick. "I missed you too, Frank," I said. "Please bro... Fuck me. Fuck me, sir. Please, sir." Frank turned over and bent forward on his knees. His wing-like lats flew out in all their glory. His legs looked like he was half horse. Of course, by now I was completely hard. Must have taken me about ten seconds to pull off my clothes and start pounding the muscle freak. Well…it took a minute more to get to his hole. You see, Frank’s glutes were so thick that I had to fasten my arms around his freaky traps for leverage, so I could push hard enough to even get inside him. "Th-th-thank you, sir," he cried submissively. I went deeper and deeper, pushing as hard as I could against the warm wall of ass muscle. “Love fuckin my muscle boy,” I said, doing my best impression of a straight bro. “Thank you sir, thank you!” His eyes rolled back in his head. “AH! AH! AH!” Frank screamed louder and louder as I pounded him. It must have looked ridiculous, a normal-sized guy pounding a 360-pound freak. I thought of the other people in the dorm who could no doubt hear Frank’s moaning, but I didn’t care. “Fuck yes! Fuck yes!” he yelled in his inimitable, super deep voice. I couldn’t believe how wide and tapered his back looked as it jiggled with each thrust. “Choke me, sir.” I obliged. Or, I tried to. But Frank’s neck was so thick that, no matter how hard I squeezed, I didn’t have much impact. A huge spurt of pre-cum — almost like a load unto itself — spilled out from Frank’s dick. He moaned even louder. Then right before I was going to cum, he pulled my dick out. He grabbed my body, each hand grasping an entire shoulder, and laid me down on the bed like his tiny plaything. Then, looking more huge and horned up than I had ever seen him, he backed up and sat on my dick. From below, I couldn’t see most of his face. His huge, flopping pecs blocked everything except his dark and slightly crazed eyes. As I looked up and saw his pecs jiggling, felt his warm hole sliding up and down my cock, kneaded my hands through his 8-pack, I knew I wouldn’t last long. I started to cum. At the exact same moment, so did Frank — without even touching his cock. His load was so enormous that it drenched my face and most of my chest too. I felt his asshole tighten around my dick in the throes of his orgasm. He moaned: “FUCK YES SIRRRR!” A moment passed. Frank was still straddling me, panting, my very sensitive cock still inside him, my huge load leaking out of his hole. His load coated my entire face. He shuddered. Another mini-orgasm. A last rope of cum shot right into my mouth. Then I started laughing. “What are you laughing at?” “Frank, you really are amazing!” He flashed a killer smile and almost seemed to blush. He looked in my eyes and didn’t say it, but I knew he was thinking (because I was thinking it too): I love you. Frank grimaced and pulled my dick out of his hole, then laid down next to me and shoved my face into his chest crevasse. He knew this was my favorite thing in the world. He pecked affectionate little kisses on my head. God, it felt good to be back in this bear hug, I thought. “You don’t know what it’s been like, James. I’ve been back for ten days. I doubled my tren and now my libido is off the charts. Couldn’t stop thinking of you. I’ve been jerking off six times a day.” “Wait, you’ve been back that long?” I said, surprised. “Yeah, I came back early. My dad was being an asshole. We fought. Said I’m doing too much gear, that he’s worried about me. You believe that?” “Uh…” I wasn’t sure how to reply. Any decent parent would be worried about an 18 year old with 360 pounds of muscle. I must admit, one thing that I found particularly sexy about Frank was that he didn’t give a shit about the risks and stigma of steroids or bodybuilding. It never even seemed to enter his mind. It was like the life of a muscle freak was, for him, the only version of life even worth considering. Nothing was going to stand in his way. Frank continued: “It’s all bullshit. He’s such a hypocrite. Like he wasn’t on gear when he was my age. What he’s really mad about is that he knows I’m not gonna do pro football after college, like he did. He wants me to play in the NFL, just like him.” “You’re not going to?” “Fuck no. You think I care about football? It’s just so I can cover my tuition and keep my dad off my back. Oh, and get unlimited meals at the cafeteria. As soon as I graduate, I’m going to start my pro bodybuilding career.” “Whoa.” “I’m not gonna stop until I’m Mr. Olympia. Can you picture it? Me up on that stage, 6’4”, everyone else looking like a fucking pip-squeak.” “Fuck.” “Imagine what the other pros are gonna think when they see me. Every eye in the room on me. Biggest muscle freak of all time… Walking out there, 100 pounds bigger than the other guys…400 pounds of muscle… Won’t stop till I have 26 inch biceps. Gonna change the sport. Gonna be bigger than anyone ever… biggest ever…Fuck… Just imagine it bro… On stage… Everybody watching… All that freaky muscle… Thousands of people… All gasping when they see me…So big…So fucking huge… Fucking muscle…fuck…” I noticed that Frank’s face was getting flushed again. His beet-red dick had rehardened to 10.5 inches, and a shocking amount of pre-cum was once more gurgling out. Even though he had just came five minutes earlier. “See what I mean?” Frank said. “All this tren has been making me so horny, I can barely leave the room. You’re gonna need to fuck me one or two more times. Then we can go grab lunch. I want to hear how your Christmas was.” “My dick might need a few minutes—“ Frank grabbed my cum-covered face and thrust it into his fragrant pit. Sure enough, the smell was like a Pavlovian trigger. My tired dick immediately hardened. “Good,” said Frank as he saw my erection. “Let’s be quick though. I’m starving!”
  9. There's been a big slowdown in new content so I thought I'd try to inject some activity. This story will contain similar themes from my other stories, but it will be a lot more lighthearted, I believe. Hopefully you'll find some enjoyment out of it as well. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Roommate Rivals CHAPTER ONE: “So, Rory, are you gonna live on your own now? Enjoy the bachelor life a little?” Amy questions me as I help her box up her things. Amy is my roommate, my soon to be former roommate to be exact, and also great friend from college. “I don’t think so, I’ll probably get another roommate. Maybe even two. I’m only 24 so that extra income really helps with the mortgage.” “I would guess, I still can’t believe you were able to get a house like this.” “Yeah, perk of living in the Midwest and buying in a down market. Big houses that are cheap. You’re not going to get that out in Denver.” “Oh trust me, I know,” Amy rolls her eyes in exasperation. “I’ll have to get used to a 400 sq ft apartment. You got it lucky here.” I purchased my home a little under three years ago when I was just out of college. I like my city and knew I had a very safe position in my job even back then, so I bit the bullet and bought my first home. Certainly no mansion, but as Amy mentioned it had a lot of space for a starter home. Two bedrooms and 1-1/2 baths upstairs with a fully finished walkout basement with two more bedrooms and another full bath downstairs. A little of 2500 square feet, no too shabby, even though half of that is a basement. That being said, purchasing a house so young I knew I some assistance with the mortgage would be needed. So since I bought my house I’ve had a handful of roommates over the years and it had worked out great. The house was perfect to rent rooms out with the walkout. It gave me my privacy upstairs when I wanted it and it’s hard to argue with the extra income. Plus, I was still young and more than happy to stay connected as much as I could to my college friends, many of whom were still undergrads. With a big open backyard as well, my home made for a good place to have the occasional shindig as well. Amy offers a lead as I carry some boxes upstairs, “Well if you don’t have anyone lined up yet, my cousin just graduated and is looking for a place. He’s a business major, works for the air conditioner manufacturing plant across town.” “Oh yeah? That’s cool. I already put out a feeler among my buddies on Facebook. I’d much prefer to find roommates from friends like you rather than sift through the weirdos on Craigslist and such. Then if he sucks I can blame you." Amy giggles as we load the boxes into her car. “He’s cool. He’s a frat boy, Theta Chi.” I give her skeptical look. “I know, I know! But he’s alright. Yeah, a little bit of a tool but all fratties are. If he gives you shit let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” We share a laugh and Amy tells me she’ll get me in touch with him. “Sweet, I’ll let Grif know.” “Grif? Really?” “Shut up!” Amy then gives me a devious look, “Plus Rory, regardless of their personalities, don’t act like you haven’t told me that you think frat guys are hot.” I smirk back at her, “Ok, you sold me. As long as he wears a polo. If he’s ok living with a gay dude then I could give it a try." - Seven days later I’m sitting at a BWW’s reading a menu when I see a hand reach out to me in my peripheral vision. I look up and see a stunning young man smiling down to me. “Are you Rory?” I nod. “Hey bro, I’m Griffin, nice to meet you.” I shake his hand and my eyes trace up the defined forearm, past his elbow to nicely pumped biceps which are encased in snug sleeves. I take in his torso…oh yeah, he’s even rocking a polo. I laugh inwardly wondering if Amy told him to do so to make a good impression on me. Either way it’s working. I can make just out his pecs through the polo and note how his waist is still hiding in the loose fabric, indicating its tightness. He has very broad and round shoulders, perhaps he was a swimmer back in high school. Standing there I judge him to be about 5’10 with a nicely gym built body. Far from huge, but he definitely uses the weight room on a regular basis. I look up to his face. Oh yeah, typical frat boy, but I can’t deny I’m temporarily smitten. Strong jaw, full lips, Roman nose. His face is a perfect combination of masculinity mixed with a still maturing, yet boyish face. On top of his head is neatly styled dirty blond hair contrasting his bright blue eyes. My stomach flutters as I attempt to regain my voice. “Hi Griffin. Have a seat, I already ordered a beer, the waitress should be back soon. You like wings?” “Hell yeah man, who doesn’t! The hotter the better.” We chat and I do my best to get a feel for the guy. The waitress comes by and takes our order and Griffin orders himself a beer as well. “So I guess that means you’re 21?” I ask. “Yep, just turned two months ago.” “Are you a big drinker, Griffin?” “Call me Grif, bro. I’m not a huge drinker, but I like to party, yeah.” Grif chuckles, sensing my apprehension. “But I promise I’m not one of those alcoholic frat boys. I like to party, but I keep it reasonable. Only the weekends. Plus, too much booze is bad for the abs.” Griffin smiles, leans back and pats his stomach. The fibers of his tanned forearms undulate as he does. Inside I’m wishing he would pull up the shirt and give me a glimpse. As we chat more I quickly catch on that he has the frat boy charm. He’s a guy who is used to getting what he wants, but it also becomes clear he’s worked for what he has too. He came to college with minimal scholarships and worked part time for most his undergrad. I can respect that. He lets me know he’s got a typical 8-5 job so our work schedules would be the same. We are both into watching sports even though I’m not nearly as athletic as him. It seems like a good fit, and I trust Amy’s judgement. “Well, Grif, I think this could work out if you still want to rent out my room?” “Sweet, dude! Yeah man, if those rates you told Amy are still good then I’m in for sure. Amy told me about the basement and I trust her. Sounds like you got a great setup.” “Great! Oh…um…I don’t know if Amy mentioned this, but-” Grif cuts me off “You’re gay right, bro? Amy already told me.” “Um…yeah. Is that a problem?” Grif smiles and takes a drink of his beer. “Fuck no, dude. Some of my favorite guys from Theta Chi were gay. Is it gonna be a problem that I’m a breeder?” I laugh out loud and Grif raises his glass to mine and we cheers. - It’s just three days later when Grif starts moving in. He has a couple of his frat bros helping him and I’m swooning at all the hot young men in my home. They are all boisterous and playful but I can tell they are good dudes. And their muscle definitely comes in handy and not just for my eyes and spank-bank. All the bros are wearing cutoff shirts exposing their rock arms and giving me glimpses of pecs. Their strong bodies easily handle the big items. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to help Grif move in his dresser, the thing was massive. Luckily I got to stand by and hold the door open as these jacked frat boys move Grif’s stuff in. Grif and his bros are impressed with my house as well, which I take pride in. I can tell Grif is excited, “Damn dude, Amy didn’t do this basement justice. This living room down here is HUGE! And you even got a bar down here? With fridge and microwave? This is awesome!” Grif throws his meaty arm around my shoulder, “Whenever you bring over a hot stud I got all I need to stay down here and let you have at him!” I laugh and reciprocate, “Yeah Grif. And if you have a chick down here you got all you need.” “Not ‘IF’, Rory-boy. WHEN!” Grif squeezes my shoulder and pats me on the back. I reward the guys with pizza and beer which only cements my endearment to Grif’s buddies. They ask if I ever host parties and I tell them occasionally. “But you guys can certainly come over anytime you want to hang with Grif.” Grif smiles and adds, “And to hang with you too, buddy!” Late that night after Griffin’s friends have left I leave him alone to get settled in. As he does I notice a new message on my phone from my mother. [Hi Rory. My coworker Wendy has a son who is looking for a room. He’s in his last year at the University. He was always a good kid in high school. Here is his Facebook page if you’re interested. Love you!] [Thanks mom. Give me a few days to think about it. New guy seems cool. I prefer one roommate but let me think it over. Love ya too.] The next day the decision becomes easier. I find out that all annual merit raises as work have been frozen since business is down. I grumble but I suppose I should be thankful that I wasn’t one of the 15% who were laid off last month. All of sudden the income of another roommate is very enticing so I let my mother know I’ll set something up. I bring it up with Grif too. “That’s up to you, Rory-boy. I’m good with another roommate if you are. I lived in a frat house with 40 other guys, just 2 other roommates is a huge improvement. Just please don’t bring in a weirdo.” “I won’t Grif. He’s a bartender, I’m meeting up with him tonight.” “A bartender, huh? Well that’s a good sign. Plus if he can get me free or reduced drinks at his bar then I’m in for sure!” I’ve arranged to meet up with the new prospect at his bar. He works most nights so this was the only way I could see him during my normal hours. Being a college town and with it still being summer, the bar shouldn't be too busy so he assures me via text that he’ll be able to talk. I ask the woman behind the counter, “Excuse me, is Osbourne here?” She looks at me before shouting down the bar, “Oz! Someone’s here for you!” A man comes from behind the wall of booze wiping his hands on a towel and approaches me. His is a fine specimen of man I must say. He is long and lean with dark complexion that goes perfectly with his short black hair. He either has some Mediterranean genes or he has spent a considerable amount of time tanning this summer. I take in his dark piercing eyes, he is one of those guys who looks like they are wearing eyeliner. He’s a got a couple small tattoos on his forearms which look like black flames but I don’t look too closely. His has a very tight and lithe body, sort of like a male runway model. I can tell he has some power in his taut muscles, he gives me the impression of a compressed spring. A man with a lot more power than he looks. I peg him at about 5’11, maybe 170 lbs. He’s wearing a snug black shirt which gives an impression of the firm muscles underneath. The dark jeans he’s wearing show off a surprising ample ass, which no doubt gets worked a lot, either in the gym or with the women he picks up. All in all, the guy is smoldering. The type of guys that gives ‘dark and mysterious’ its appeal. He smiles at me, “Hey man, are you Rory? I’m Oz. What can I get you, it’s on the house.” “Top shelf it is!” I joke and he grins. “Kidding, any hefeweizen will do.” “Got just the thing for ya, man.” Like any good bartender he is charming and engaging. He makes me feel like he genuinely interesting getting to know me, even if he isn’t. I certainly want to get to know him better, especially sans clothes, but I keep this to myself. “Just got a few classes left before I can graduate with my business degree,” he lets me know. “This bartending job pays pretty well so I’m not in a huge hurry to get my degree, honestly. So instead of one tough final semester I’m going to stretch what I have left over two semesters and graduate next Spring.” “Smart man. So I already have one roommate, is that cool?” “If it’s not a problem with him its not a problem with me. I just gotta get out of my current place. I currently live with four other dudes. Five guys in one big house is way too many. The place is a pigsty and I’m a very clean person.” “I like hearing that, Oz. So you’ll still be bartending for the next year then?” “At least. I’d be a great roommate. We wouldn’t even really cross paths too often. I work afternoons and nights until closing and my normal days off are Sunday and Monday. So most of the time I won’t see you. We wouldn’t be in each others way too much.” This revelation gives me conflicting feelings, I love the idea that the second roommate will almost be invisible…yet at the same time I WANT to see as much of this gorgeous man as I could. “One last thing, Oz. I don’t know if your mom told you, but I’m gay, I hope that’s alright.” Oz chuckles as he smiles at me. “She didn’t tell me but honestly I pegged you as gay right away.” “You did? How!?” Oz smirks at me, “Because I’m hot, dude. And Erica, the girl who called me over. She’s smokin’ hot too, but you were only looking at me.” I hide my face, embarrassed and Oz laughs. “No worries man. It wasn’t obvious. It’s a skill I’ve picked up being a bartender. And to answer your question, I don’t care at all that you’re gay. Love is love, man. Here, have another free beer since I embarrassed ya.” He sets a new bottle down on the bar in front of me and gives me a smoldering wink. - The following weekend Oz pulls into my driveway on Saturday morning with the back of his pickup full of of his belongings. I welcome him inside where Grif and I have been eating breakfast. Grif and Oz lock eyes for the first time in my home. Grif drops his cereal spoon, rolls his eyes and moans dramatically. “Awww man, Rory? You’re letting this loser live here?” I’m taken aback by Grif’s rudeness but turn to see Osbourne smirking at Grif. “I take it you two know each other?” Oz approaches Grif and slaps him on the shoulder with a grin. “Griffin of Theta Chi! How’s it going man? Still salty about how we beat you guys for the flag football crown?” Grif huffs, “That was a lucky fuckin’ fluke play and you know it!” “We still won!” Oz grins brightly. “So you two do know each other.” “Yeah, Grif and I here were in the top two frats at the university. Our frats were big rivals. My frat, Phi Delta Theta has won the most intramural Greek trophies in the last few years. We usually beat the little Theta Chi boys here like Grif. But hey man, 2nd place is still pretty good,” Oz says patronizingly. “The Phi Delts always got the calls by the refs, some shady shit if you ask me,” Grif grumbles. “But my frat was known for having WAY better parties with MUCH hotter girls. Can’t deny that, Oz! Sorry you guys were never invited.” The two continue to banter and I watch them close. While it’s clear they are both proud members of their frats and both extremely competitive, I don’t get the sense that they hate each other. They seem to have a frenemies relationship. Regardless I decide I better make sure this is the case. “So boys, is this gonna be a problem? You two are going to start coming to blows are you? Because you guys are both a lot bigger than me, I can’t stop you.” The two laugh and Grif answers, “Naw boss, we’ll be fine. Plus, if we fought, Oz here would be in trouble since I’m clearly bigger and stronger.” Grif smirks and quickly throws up a single arm flex. A well developed biceps muscle pops up. Oz grins and turns to Grif. He stands right up to him, “Are you sure your bigger, Grif? I’ve got a couple of inches of height on you, little guy.” “Couple of inches my ass! You are maybe an inch taller, bro. I still weigh more than you, skinny.” “Barely. Well I’m still taller!” “And I’m still bigger!” - Oz takes the day to get settled in. He is wearing a sleeveless shirt as we hauls his stuff in and I enjoy his caramel skin which is stretched tight over his very lean muscles as I suspected. Oz is much more vascular and lean than I previously thought. He’s not as bulky as Grif but has that wiry look, almost like a wrestler. I catch a glimpse of his abs through he side of his very loose cutoff tank…and it’s very nice. By that evening Oz is settled into his room in the basement next to Grif’s. With a big sigh Oz joins us on the couch in the living room. “No plans tonight, Grif?” he asks. “Did you lose all your friends or what?" “No, twat. Just a low key Saturday tonight. I went out last night.” “Got it. No friends.” Oz teases and Grif chucks a pillow at his face. Later that night their intensely competitive streak comes out again as I hear screaming coming from the basement living room. I tromp down the stairs to find the two studs playing Call of Duty. “What the hell are you guys doing down here?” “Well, Oz here is fucking CHEATING, that’s what’s happening.” Oz just laughs, “Sorry, boss. Grif here just can’t handle losing to the better man. You’d think he’d better at coping by now, poor guy.” “Fuck off!” Grif slams his controller down and stomps to his room. I laugh as I watch him sulk off, “It’s not that big of a deal, Grif,” but he just huffs as he walks by. I may have underestimated the intensity of their rivalry.
  10. roboprobo

    Bro Fam

    Eventually, you RELISHED your growth going out of control. Sure, you'd officially flunked out of your second year of college but economic analytics was harder than you anticipated... Thankfully, you were very lucky to have such a strong group of bros to support you. And they certainly did- when you initially told them you'd wanted to start working out more seriously, they actually gave you bags of supplements and 'lifestyle' tapes. The tapes were weird (all about 'motivation', working out, or dieting) and even when you always found yourself waking up towards the end of them you'd watch them religiously. Hell, the guys eventually started making your meals for you, too and it didn't take long for the gym to become second nature for you. You got BIG. Your confidence burst through the roof and you were cocky or even mean; you deserved it! Nobody could have gotten as jacked as you, nor as strong. Regardless, you were always kind to your bros. They were the ones making you big, too. Hell, after a while you started feeling like they worshiped you, in a weird, communal way. Each one would bring you a can of weird beer of a brand you couldn't pronounce and of course you'd end up shotgunning it as a challenge. At some point doorways were becoming a challenge due to your width- that's when the guys would laugh at your wide, stumbling gait but still help you get upstairs to bed. The side effects made EVERYTHING bigger. Some of the bros bought you new shoes every time your feet started getting cramped in your current pair. One day you'd dozed off again after a weird lifestyle tape, waking up with an excess of morning wood and one of your younger buddies sucking on your long toes. You felt embarrassed but there was something about when he asked you to flex for him that kept you laying comfortably on your increasingly smaller bed. He'd ask you questions about wanting your growth and if you liked it; you'd answer with honesty as you milked your fat cock, his chuckle making you smile naively as he moved to massage your huge feet and massive legs. You were getting massive and it felt awesome! All you could really think about was getting bigger and having fun with your bros. After a while it wasn't weird at all to find yourself flexing or working out in the basement, naked, and you consistently found yourself serving the guys however they asked. You almost cried when the school told you you'd failed all your classes; you couldn't even remember the last time you'd even gone. The guys told you it didn't matter, you could still live at the house and to not even sign up for another semester if you didn't want to. So you didn't bother with school. Hell, you used to consider yourself a rather smart guy but nowadays you could barely keep up with complex conversations your bros have at home. The guys would laugh when you gave a ditsy comment and tell you to show of your tits instead. You'd happily peel up (or ripped off) your shirt, showing off your massive pecs. You loved showing off, after all! They called you a good 'himbo' and directed you to administer twice the doses of supplements you were accustomed too. You explained to them your pectorals were seemingly increasing size even faster than the rest of your body, feeling sore almost every day. They gladly began giving you more thorough daily 'massages'. Nowadays you find yourself practically shaking the earth beneath your heavy steps, your quads and hams so wide you have to move in an awkward waddle. Your time is religiously spent in the basement gym or with your loving bros. Sure, they graduate and new ones come in, but you always find tight relationships with them. The guys worship your massive, sweaty body and always make sure you're well-taken care of. You've lost track of how many years have gone by and sometimes wonder if you're not really getting any older, either. You're fucking huge. Sometimes the guys are sweeter and love letting you strut around with a proper alpha male cockiness. Others are meaner, tricking you into tight situations or letting your huge pecs go without milking for days at a time, letting you murmur in discomfort like a proper bull in heat as your pecs start looking overdeveloped even for your massive frame. A rare few actually manage to fit your huge cockhead in their mouths. Some manage to fit you inside them (dangerously) but most often you enjoy feeling a bro sniffing and lapping your hairy, muscled pucker before stretching it out with their fat bro cock. For as much as you have to eat, absorbing protein through your bros' thick cocks is a benefit you gladly enjoy. There isn't often a party where you turn down a proper pose down, letting all the guys worship you as they pump you full of beer and cock.
  11. Sizemologist

    H2GROW: Just Add Water

    Move In Day! Tony climbed the stairs to his second floor dorm room with bags of luggage in hand. Groaning with each step, the stocky man finally reached his door and fumbled to get the key out of his pocket. As he did this, he started to lose his grip on all of his bags. Trying his best to fish the key out of his pocket, Tony at last grabbed the key, but his hand couldn’t hold on any longer. All of his bags fell to the ground with a loud crash and Tony sighed in defeat. While Tony was picking up his dropped luggage, the door to his room swung open. Tony looked up from the ground to see a tall lanky guy standing in the doorway. “Hi there! You must be Tony,” said the stranger with a smile on his face as he reached his hand out to Tony. “Yes I am! And you must be Andrew. Nice to meet you.” Tony got up from the ground and reached his hand out to meet Andrew’s in the process of dropping all his luggage again. “Need some help with that?” asked Andrew chuckling a bit at Tony. “Actually yeah. That would be real helpful man,” said Tony, picking up some of the suitcases. Andrew got down and started to collect a few of Tony’s bags and walked back into the room. Tony followed him in with the remaining bags and examined his new dorm. On his side of the room, there was nothing. A blank billboard and a twin sized bed attached to a desk with a chest of drawers and a small closet. On the other side, it was clear that Andrew had been here well in advance and set up his room. He had plenty of Star Wars, Marvel, Lord of the Rings, and Star Trek posters up on the wall. Along with stacks of books on his desk and plants lining the window sill. “Wow, you didn’t waste any time moving in,” said Tony, setting his luggage down in front of his closet. “Actually this isn’t my first rodeo. I lived in this room last semester. In the fall semester, I was in this room by myself. I think I originally had another roommate, but he ended up dropping out either right before the semester started or the first day of classes because I never met him. So I had this room all to myself last year,” said Andrew. Tony started to move his luggage into the room and while doing so, slinging some of his suitcases up onto the bed. “Oh nice man. Sorry to ruin your solo act,” said Tony. “It’s okay. It’ll be nice living with someone. Did you have anything else that you were gonna bring up? I can help you out if you need it,” said Andrew. “Nope, I wanted to bring everything up here in one trip. But I’m pretty beat from that drive.” Tony took off his jacket and set it on his desk and then laid down on the bed. Andrew quickly stood up and walked over to Tony. “Oh well maybe, if you don’t feel like unpacking now, we can go and get some food? Ya know, get to know each other. We will be living with each other for the next four or five months, might as well start it off right,” said Andrew as he started putting on his jacket. “Yeah, sure. Just let me get a quick break in then I’d be more than happy to get some grub with you,” Tony smiled at Andrew and Andrew gave a big toothy grin back at Tony. “Great! I’m just gonna run to the bathroom real quick and then we can leave,” said Andrew as he opened the door to their room to go to the community bathroom they shared with the whole floor. Tony looked over at his luggage on the other side of the bed. He leaned forward and grabbed one of the zippers on the bigger suitcases sitting on top and quickly unzipped it. Sitting on top was a big fluffy pillow with folded sheets below it. Tony grabbed out the sheetless pillow, put it on the side he would put his head, and laid down. He took a deep breath in and sighed from exhaustion. But he paused for a moment. What is that smell? he thought to himself. He sat up and grabbed his pillow and moved it out of the way. On the mattress was a small stain that looked to be no bigger than a ping pong ball. Looks like whoever had this bed last was not the cleanest roommate in the world. I’ll have to get some candles or something to get that smell out of here. As Tony was examining the stain on the bed, the door swung open and in walked Andrew. “You ready to go or do you need some more time to rest?” asked Andrew as he reentered the room. “Yeah, I’m good to go. And maybe we can leave the window open or something. My bed kinda reeks,” said Tony as he started standing up. Andrew's eyes got wide for a split second, but then settled back into his big smile. “Oh yeah. Sorry about that. I think it’s my experiment going on over here.” Andrew walked over to the window sill where he had five potted plants lined up. “I’m a biochemistry student and I really got to know one of my professors last semester so he let me do a little experiment of my own over winter break. I won’t be winning the Nobel Peace Prize for it or anything, but it’s still a good way to get close with the professors in my major.” Andrew grabbed a spray bottle sitting on his desk and started to spray the plants with water. “That sounds interesting. What are you testing?” asked Tony as he got up and stood next to Andrew. “These plants were given a fertilizer that was supposed to give them more nutrients which would enable more growth output. It won’t grow them massive, but I’m seeing which chemical combination reacts the best to inhibit the most growth. Long term it could give farmers a new product to get bigger harvests every season.” “Wow, that sounds…really complicated, but also cool,” said Tony. He leaned in towards one of the plants growing and took a sniff. “Ooo yeah. That’s what I smell.” Tony grabbed his nose a little bit and stepped back towards the door. “Sorry, this fertilizer is fresh. I didn’t realize you were moving in today and put it on the plants. It will smell for a little bit as the nutrients work their way into the plant's system. That’s why I suggested we go eat and get out of the room while the smell goes away,” said Andrew, putting his spray bottle back on his desk. “I see your point. Then lead the way to the nearest dining hall. I don’t think I realized how hungry I was until I was out of the car.” Tony opened up the door and waited for his lanky roommate to walk out with him. Andrew smiled and followed Tony out of the room towards the nearest dining hall. *A FEW HOURS LATER* “I can’t believe they allow All You Can Eat at The Market on Saturdays. That’s gonna save me sooooo much money this year,” said Tony as he walked back into his dorm room with Andrew. “It’s pretty nice. And for a growing guy like you, I’m sure you’ll take full advantage of it.” The two laughed and looked at Tony’s bed. It still had plenty of still packed suitcases sitting on it. “Damn I’m not looking forward to unpacking that,” said Tony as he started unzipping his suitcase. Both of them were happy that the smell of the room had returned to normal and they weren’t suffering through the stench of the fertilizer. “It’ll be done before you know it.” Andrew sat on his bed and started to play on his phone. “If you need any help doing any of the heavy lifting, I know I don’t have much size to show, but I can at least help.” Andrew brought his arm up and flexed his mediocre bicep for Andrew. “Thanks Andrew. But I don’t think I have much to unpack. Mainly just clothes and some supplies for school. It’ll just be a pain.” Tony started unpacking his things as Andrew got up from his bed and checked on his plants. “Did the plants like the fertilizer you gave them?” “Unclear. I can’t see any changes in them now, but it has only been a few hours since I added the stuff. Realistically, I shouldn’t see any real changes for a few weeks,” said Andrew as he continued to examine the plants. “So how does all of that stuff work? I’ve never really been big on science, but I’m always open to hear of better ways to get bigger,” said Tony as he started putting some of his clothes away. “It’s kind of complicated. How much do you know about biology? Or chemistry?” asked Andrew, spraying down the plants with water. “I’m a kinesiology major so I know about biology. But that’s human biology. Not plants.” said Tony, folding up some shorts and putting them in his dresser. “In layman's terms, whenever I give the plant water, it should activate the nutrients in the fertilizer I gave to the test plant to inhibit growth. But the growth we see at this stage would be microscopic at this early of a time. Or at least on this size of plant. But if we wake up in a jungle of vines, we know it worked.” Andrew got out a ruler and notepad and started to jot down numbers on it. “So could it work on humans?” asked Tony, peering over Andrew’s shoulder at the plants. “Who knows? All of this is theoretical. Don’t get me wrong, professor Hendricks and I have been running the numbers and these plants should only grow a few inches more than a regular one. But we’ve only ever tried it on plants. I don’t even know what would happen if that fertilizer got into a human’s system.” Tony frowned and walked back to his closet and continued to hang up his clothes. “Well whenever you guys do human trials, let me know. I’ll be first in line. I’d do anything to grow.” “Yeah I feel you there. I might not be as short as you, but being as skinny as a twig sometimes can be a pain. People always say I look like a giraffe.” “Short and fat isn’t the best either. In the last few months, everybody has been calling me a baked bean.” “Wow, that’s rough buddy,” said Andrew as he walked back to his bed. “But kinda funny.” Andrew couldn’t hide the small smirk on his face. “You’ll be able to go to the rec 24/7 if you’re trying to get buff big guy. And the kinesiology department is right next door so it's an easy commute to class.” “You’re right, but I was always the short kid in high school. I never was strong enough or fast enough or tall enough to be in any sport so I was really hoping that I could at least gain some sort of size in college,” said Tony. “I was a band nerd. I didn’t care for any sort of sport. They’re overrated in my opinion. But considering the rec is free with tuition, and as we learned tonight, Saturdays are all you can eat, you’ll get big in no time. At least in the muscle department. The height department, I’ll give you a call once we’ve figured out how to grow people taller,” said Andrew as put away the last of his clothes. “Like I said, first in line for it.” Tony plopped himself down on his now made bed and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Finally done. I’m beat.” Tony took another deep breath in and then caught a whiff of himself. “You know, on second thought, I might go shower and then head straight to bed. All that moving today really took it out of me,” said Tony sitting back up and grabbing his towel and toiletries. “I’ll be here. Have fun. Make friends,” said Andrew. “Make friends? It’s the floor’s community bathroom. I don’t know if I wanna make friends in there.” “Hey, you never know,” laughed Andrew as Tony shut the door to head to the bathroom. Tony turned the corner and entered the community bathroom. It had three stalls with toilets and three stalls for showers. Tony ducked down and checked if anyone was in there with him, and to his luck, there was no one else. He opened the first door to the shower stall and stepped in .The stall wasn’t very big. It just had a dry area for Tony to place his pajamas and then the small shower itself. Tony walked into the shower and turned the water on. He started rinsing off his body. Taking stock of it, there wasn’t much to rinse. Andrew hadn’t been lying. Tony was a bit of a little guy. At only 5’5, he definitely was towered over by most other men. And even some women. And he was pretty stocky for being so short. He rinsed off his sizable moobs and lifted his belly up so water could get the undercarriage. Looking down at his belly, he couldn’t even see his stump of a dick under it. At only 3 inches, Tony really longed for any size at all. Tony sighed as he reached for his shampoo bottle and started lathering up his curly black hair. Tony was met with a weird tightening sensation on the back of his head when he started to rub the shampoo in. It wasn’t burning him, but he did feel a strangle warmth trickle across his head and down his neck. Tony pulled his shoulders back as he felt the warmth spread throughout his whole body. His toes curled as his back arched up. He was lucky he was alone because he let out a deep, loud moan. It echoed through the stalls of the bathroom and Tony felt it ringing through his chest. It started in Tony’s shoulders first. It was subtle, but he could feel them thickening. His traps became denser and his delts rounded out. Spreading out to his flabby arms, the jiggly fat that hung on his arms seemed to be moving and shifting. Tony was shocked when he flexed, he saw his biceps inflating to the size of softballs. Tony balled his hands into fists to see the veins pulsing on his vascular forearms. Seeping down to his chest, his moobs began to plump up. The once saggy moobs were pushing upwards on his chest. Forming a rectangular shape on his chest and filling out with more muscle. His belly felt like it was marinating with the warmth. Tony rubbed his belly and let out a loud belch that echoed throughout the entire bathroom. Tony moaned again and gripped his cock with both of his hands. His eyes shot open and he looked down to see his cock. He could see his cock and grip it with two hands. Tony smiled in disbelief as he felt his cock pulse in his hands. His spine shivered with every heartbeat as his cock throbbed bigger and bigger. Tony felt his already somewhat fat ass tighten up and form into a bubble butt behind him. Thunder thighs shaping into ham sized quads. He raised his toe up and flexed his diamond calves. As Tony stayed under the shower head, he felt his body start to go through a different change. He had gained some muscle suddenly, but now it seemed his belly wanted to grow bigger too. Tony let out another large belch that lasted a few seconds and then he gripped his stomach. His hands were feeling pushback as the belly began to push out further and further. Looking at his body, he saw the toned muscles begin to swell with fat. His athletic build he had just gained being eclipsed as fat began to crawl back onto his body. Tony reached for the shower faucet and turned the water off. He looked down at his body and was amazed. He couldn’t help but grope and prod at his new form. While he maintained a rather full belly and a significant amount of fat still on him, he could actually see muscles on him now. “I knew there was muscle under all that fat,” mused Tony. He couldn’t stop smiling as he began to towel off his muscular body. Pulling up the pajamas he had brought, his underwear felt tight on his beefier body. Gripping the waistband, Tony heaved them up and over his fat ass that now felt shaped more like a bubble butt than a lumpy blob. His legs felt squeezed into the pants like sausages and his calves and ankles were on display at the bottom of the pants. Pulling on his shirt, his sleeves felt constraining around his biceps and like one little flex could tear it. His hairy belly was now on full display for the world to see since now his shirt only covered just above his belly button. Walking out of the stall and staring at himself in the mirror, Tony couldn’t help but smile with glee as he looked absolutely comical now. He didn’t know how it happened, but he had gotten bigger. His clothes looked two sizes too small at least and he had no idea what happened. But he didn’t care. All he did care about was that he had done what he had never thought was possible. Get bigger. He walked giddily back to his room and entered to see Andrew playing a video game on his tv. Andrew looked up and did a double take at Tony. He squinted his eyes and paused his game. “Hey Tony, how was your shower?” asked Andrew skeptically. “It was good. I like the showers here,” said Tony as he put his toiletries up and hopped into his bed. “Uh huh. And you look different than when you left, but I can’t put my finger on it,” said Andrew as he shifted his body towards Tony and pulled his head set off of his head. “Well after a long day of travel, a shower always makes me feel nice and refreshed. It’s probably just that you’ve never seen me clean.” Tony said as he absent mindedly rubbed his exposed hairy belly. “Hmm, okay. I will say you might want to invest in some new pajamas. It looks like that pair doesn’t fit you anymore. And with you saying that you’re wanting to grow even bigger, I bet those won’t last long.” Andrew put his head set back on and resumed his game as Tony’s cock jumped a little bit from the excitement of Andrew’s words. Grabbing a pillow to cover himself, Tony blushed a bit and made sure his now larger dick wasn’t seen. “Haha you got that right. I think I’ll be doing plenty of growing this semester. And I won’t stop until I’m the biggest there ever was.” Tony laid his head back on his pillow and took a deep breath to clear his head. He smiled to himself as his mind began to wander into the fantasies of how big he would grow. “Sure, whatever you say, big guy. Are you gonna go to sleep now?” asked Andrew, leaving one ear off his head set. “Yeah. I have my first day of classes tomorrow and wanted to get a good night’s sleep before it,” said Tony as he shifted his weight on his bed. Now amazed at just how far his feet went down the bed. “Alright, I’ll finish up this game and turn everything off so you can get some good sleep. Besides, I have a class at 8am tomorrow, I should probably head to bed too,” said Andrew. Tony looked down and actually saw his pecs obstructing his view of his body and still couldn’t stop smiling. He did feel his cock jump again, but had to resist reaching down and feeling his new endowment. Even though he was under the covers, he could see a bulge wanting to break free and grow. This thought only made the bulge under the sheets jump with even more excitement. Tony tried to focus on other things, but his horny thoughts were getting to him. “No need to rush.” Tony mused as he turned his body to face away from Andrew only to hear a rip shoot through his pants. Tony’s eyes shot open and he turned to look over at Andrew. But with his head set on, Andrew didn’t hear anything. Turning back to his body, Tony saw a little wet spot on the blanket that must’ve been a small bit of pre that leaked out when he tore his pants. “Just finished on a good one. Perfect way to end a good day,” said Andrew as he turned off his console and tv. He laid down on his bed and reached for his light to turn it off. “Tomorrow will be a good day. First day of classes. First full day with a new roomie, we have a lot of things to be excited for.” Andrew hit the switch and the light in the room went off. “Definitely. It’s gonna be a great day. And a great semester. Goodnight Andrew.” Tony rolled back over onto his back. Now with his boner hidden by the darkness. “Night Tony.” Tony sat there quietly waiting for Andrew to fall asleep. Once he heard a light snore coming from Andrew’s bed. Tony wiggled his big body out of his pants and underwear so he could feel his big enhanced member. He felt another shot of pre leak onto his hand as he put two hands on the mighty rod. Tony looked over at Andrew and heard him sleeping before, but decided to risk it all by starting to jerk off. Tony felt how big his cock felt in his hands now. He couldn’t believe that he needed two hands just to jerk himself off now. And his hands felt like they barely closed around the monster, it was so thick. One of his hands left his cock to feel the rest of his improved body. After feeling the heft of his pecs, Tony knew it wouldn’t be long before he was shooting cum everywhere. Between having an obscured view of his dick and the fact he could feel how juicy they felt with each lift, he had to stifle a moan as his big body turned him on so much. Sensing what was about to happen and feeling how much bigger his balls were, Tony reached back behind him and grabbed a few tissues off of his desk. Only after feeling how round and expansive his belly was did Tony start firing shot after shot of cum. It was the biggest load he had ever produced as volley after volley of cum hit his hairy belly. Tony panted as the orgasm subsided and looked over to Andrew who still seemed to be fast asleep. Grabbing the tissue, he started wiping off the excess cum on his belly and was surprised about just how much he had to clean. After grabbing another tissue, Tony finally cleaned up the mess he made and pulled his blanket back up to cover his torso. He thought about pulling up his pants, but they were already ripped so why bother. He turned to his side and closed his eyes to go to sleep. Wondering if everyday of college was going to be this eventful. And if it was, it was going to be an incredible year.
  12. Heya y'all! It's my first time actually posting anything on this site (that i can remember, at least) and the first time I try my hand at writing this kind of story. but since I read a lot of content from lots of authors both from here and from the previous website, I figured it was time to give a small fraction of it back. Fair warning; English isn't my mothertongue, so any mistakes are entirely mine! Without further ado, here's part one! I hope you'll enjoy it. Male Hunger Part one The humid air of his room had gotten warmer. Bran huffed and licked his lips, tasting the salty sweat racing down his head, hips rocking, his wide hands wildly jerking off his thick cock. He groaned lowly, racking a cum-covered palm through his short hair and started slapping his dick on his 6-pack, splashing precum everywhere. After a few beats, his heavy balls surged higher.. And Bran stopped, out of breath, hands off his penis, his body tensing, muscles flexing hard to keep himself from cumming. After a few long seconds, he brought a veiny hand to his mouth and licked the pre off his thick fingers, one after the other. The taste of pre and the weight of each rough fingers in his mouth had him shuddering so much his eyes closed. Bran roughly pinched his nips and grunted quite loudly as saliva filled his mouth. His other hand skimmed down his thick pecs, along the valleys of his abs, to finally grasp at his thick shaft. He fisted his dick and – the immediate, overwhelming pleasure had him gasping out and snorting air back in, nostrils wide, hips pumping- he distantly recognized the potent scent of his own musky sweat and semen, different, stronger than ever before – He needed more. “Fuuck…,” he growled out, kicking his muscled legs further apart. He needed just a bit more. His other hand left his fluid-covered pecs to tug at and massage his bloated balls, the sensations shooting up sparks up his body. They felt so good, so full, he threw his head back on his pillow; his pre-covered hair coating them. He rocked his hips harder, the sound of his bed hitting the wall getting louder. He distantly heard some of his dorm neighbors hit the wall back but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck; his attention solely focused on pleasuring his thick, weeping cock. “Fuck!,” he snarled, teeth bared, as release started sweeping through his body. He tensed ever more, both hands tight on his shaft now, tense, striated pecs protruding more and hiding the root of his dick. Not that it mattered; his eyes were focused on the way his cock thickened even more, despite the two fists holding it. Long moments passed, during which his heavy balls, usually hanging low, pulled up and sent its fiery magma up. Bran panted wildly, wide eyes almost rolling backwards, as the first load of semen burst out and arched up the wall behind him, almost splashing on the wall. Some of the thick magma dropped back down and landed on his face, in his mouth, in his hair and on his pecs. After a few tense seconds, as the thicker and warmer liquid and its unusually strong taste coated his taste-buds, a second explosion of semen went out. It did much the same as the first. The third was much the same. “Mmhhh… So good...,” Bran moaned lewdly, in a pleasure-filled haze, as his body alternated between tensing and releasing loads of thick cum over and over. He groaned some more at the ninth; the final shot, the rest of his release dribbling out thickly and utterly flooding his abs. Still in a daze, heart beating loudly in his ears, Bran stroked his heaving belly, sliding the thick white goo over his wide torso, up his neck, down to his pubes. He thoroughly coated his still-rock-hard penis and huge, heavy balls in the stuff. Then he scooped as much as he could and licked it up with one hand, the other dedicating itself to playing with his hard cock. After a while, Bran’s stomach cramped. He was quite hungry but couldn’t be bothered to move. But the sleepiness he expected after such a release didn’t come: he started feeling antsy, as though he had had too much caffeine. His cramping stomach decided him; he would eat something, maybe watch something mindless on the TV, and then he’d go back to bed. But as he got up, something felt off; but Bran shrugged the idea away. He did the same with the vague idea of putting on clothes; it was too much trouble, besides no one was there to care besides himself. And he felt quite warm; he was still sweating. The fact he used to care a lot more about not being buck-naked in the dorm, even in his room, a few weeks ago amused him distantly. His feet thudded and left perspiration on the floor as he left the cum-covered bed and wall behind him. He felt something warm hit his legs and snorted in amusement; his hard-on was still leaking. Feeling even hungrier, Bran headed straight to the small fridge and opened the door. The sudden light had him squinting -the sudden cold surprised him – as he bent his head to search for something good to eat. The cold felt good against his warm flesh and he shuddered in delight. He reached for a can of coke, rose back up, and drank it in a few big gulps. He drank another, and another after that. Then, stomach feeling less empty, but still needing fuel, he went back down and was about to take another can when he noticed something and huffed out a short laugh. “Fuckin’ hell,” he whispered. So focused he had been on filling his belly, he hadn’t really noticed that his still leaking hard-on had coated some stuff in pre. He smirked, shook his head and took out some leftover – spaghetti bolognese – to heat up while he turned on the light, searched for a fork and a big plate. After serving himself, he set himself in front of the TV and, before turning it on, he couldn’t help but checking himself out. His reflection showed him as he was; sitting on a slightly-too-small sofa, large arms bursting out off thickly muscled shoulders and traps rising high of his bull neck. Big legs spread wide, cock high and thick, still dripping, heavy balls low and resting on the sofa. His tight musclebound gut and the V-shape low on his hips partially hidden by his wide and 10 inches long cock, his tits hanging low on a decent pair of round pecs, biceps close to 17 inches and veins and striations both easy to see on his 6’3 frame… All of those were pretty good reasons for the deep satisfaction he felt at looking at himself, a smirk reflecting such masculine pride tugging at his lips. His cock pulsed heavily as pre made his abs glisten and- his stomach cramped: he took a big bite of his meal, burped loudly – the coke – huffed out a laugh, and, feeling a bit more satisfied but still quite ravenous, he demolished his meal. But before he knew it, he was back at the fridge, pulling out enough to make another, albeit bigger meal – he was that hungry. But a man his size needed to eat quite a lot to stay so big. He smiled. “’m damn glad Ian’s not back yet,” he snickered, “he’d freak if he saw me right now”. He slapped his belching cock absently, a meaner smirk on his lips. “Though I know how I’d shut him up, mmffhhh…”, Bran closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, imagination running wild, his cock pulsing harder. Bran then smiled and stole an under-cooked chicken breast from the frying pan, too hungry to wait any longer. He munched on it, muscled jaw breaking it down fast, and his strong neck moving as he swallowed, eyes glazing over in pleasure, drool dropping from his lips. Too busy eating, he didn’t notice the bigger veins appearing all over his studly body. He was too taken up by the need to fill his void-like belly. Meanwhile, the scent of his body, of male pleasure and exertion slowly but silently got stronger in the warm and humid air of his room.
  13. musclegin30

    The Estate (Horror Story)

    This is not a feel-good story. There is violence, gore, and death. In honor of Halloween, I decided to write a what is basically a muscle slasher story. So, if you like muscle snuff, this is for you. The first three chapters will come today, so you can start it, since it is on the longer side. The rest will be posted on Halloween. Synopsis: Four friends (Chris, Alex, Danilo, and Niles) are invited to what they hope will be a fun weekend at the family Estate of two of their college acquaintances (Evan and Rupert Glencross). But joy soon turns to horror when the friends discover why the muscular Glencross brothers really invited them. The friends are plunged into a race for their lives as they struggle to escape the estate. “Blood is life. Blood is power.”- Frederick Glencross, 1872 It is said that if a house is old enough, one must assume someone has died in it. So, it stands to reason that the older the house, the more death it has seen. Glencross Manor is 200 years old, and if its blood-stained walls could talk, they would scream... Chapter 1 “I bless the raaains down in Aaafricaaa!” Danilo belted out at the top of his lungs, singing along to the radio. He couldn’t hold a tune if you paid him. Alex told him as much as he turned the car off the main drag and onto a tree-lined side street. “You don’t like my singing?” Danilo asked, grinning toward Alex in the driver’s seat. “Just don’t think of trying out for The Voice,” Niles said from the backseat, briefly looking up from the game on his phone. “The wild dogs cry out in the niiiight!” Danilo sang. “Oh God. It’s so bad,” Alex said, through a laugh. “And your accent is not helping.” Danilo turned around and looked through the space between his seat and the side of the car. “What about you, Chris? Do you think my singing is all that bad, because I think I’m as good as Toto?” Chris stopped staring out the car window and said, “As good as Toto the dog, maybe.” “Ooooh, burn,” Niles said. “My man said you sound like a dog trying to sing.” “You all should hear my Sam Smith,” Danilo announced. “No!” The other’s said in unison, then burst into laughter. Chris turned back to the window and watched the trees whiz by. The sound of his friend’s conversation melted into background static as he entered a near trance-like state. Ever since he was little, he found it easy to space-out on long car rides, lost in the world of his thoughts. He thought it was strange for them to be invited to Glencross Estate. Evan Glencross and his fraternal twin, Rupert, were only casual acquaintances of the group. They were known through mutual friends and had hung out with them no more than twice all of last semester. The Glencross brothers were seniors, while Chris and his friends were Sophomores, and there was very little fraternizing between the years. The brothers were rich, from old money. They lived on an estate for crying out loud. Chris would be shocked if he and his three friends had $400 in all their bank accounts, combined. But the most glaring difference between the brothers and the friends was physical. Evan and Rupert Glencross were huge. They had the kind of comically big muscles that turned heads and made any man jealous. Both were football stars and very popular with the opposite sex. Chris and his friends were four, short, skinny guys who never touched a weight set they hadn’t been required to in PE class. “Why do you think they invited us, seriously?” Chris asked. “Man, you’re still on that?” Niles looked at him and sucked his teeth. “Who cares why? We’re going to be living like rich people for a weekend.” “He’s scared it’s a prank,” Alex said. “It could be,” said Chris. “Evan and Rupert are nice jocks,” Danilo said. “They will not prank us. Besides, they could have done that on campus.” “Yeah man. Just try to enjoy yourself, for a change.” Niles tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey guys, I think that’s it up ahead,” Alex said. “That place is huge and look at that wall around it,” Niles said with awe. “That thing would give Trump a hardon.” “Imagine being so rich you don’t have a fence; you have a fucking wall,” Alex said, shaking his head. Chris looked out the car’s back window. Then out the side windows. Then out the front window. He smiled. “That’s nothing. Imagine being so rich your driveway is a road.” “Huh?” Danilo said, looking confused. “I just noticed it,” Chris said. “There are no turn-offs on this road and no other houses. And look, it leads straight up to the wall. We’ve been on a private road for a while now.” “Oh shit!” Alex said with a laugh. “Why didn’t I make that connection back there. The road we turned on was called Glen Drive. Duh.” “Another thing I notice,” Chris said. “We’re completely isolated out here.” “Oh, there you go again with the paranoia,” Niles said. “If anyone should be nervous, it’s me. I’m the only black guy, and I’ve watched enough movies to know that if the rich white folks are into freaky shit, I’m the first to go.” He laughed. “And yet I’m as calm as can be.” Alex stopped the car in front of the gate, which Alex assumed was 12 feet tall. It was solid metal, painted black, standing in sharp contrast to the pale stone wall it connected to. Chris eyed a box attached to the wall with a beeping red light, various buttons, and what appeared to be a camera lens. “I guess that thing is the intercom,” Alex said, undoing his seatbelt. “I’m going to press-” Before he could finish his sentence, the tall black gates opened, as if pushed by an invisible giant. “Guess not,” Alex said, buckling his seat belt. He drove through the gates and let out a low “fuck me.” Chris’ jaw dropped. Danilo let out a “woah” Niles clapped his hands together and said, Chris had expected big, but Glencross Manor could only be described as palatial, something you would expect from European royalty, not in New England. It was a mountain of marble and brick assembled in the classical form, a testament to excess and wealth. His eyes were immediately drawn to the mammoth portico. Where you would expect to find roman style columns supporting it, instead there were two massive statues in the form of nude, muscular men with their arms stretched high. The men were more heavily muscled than the Farnese Hercules. “Interesting architectural choice,” Chris said, pointing. “And anatomically correct too.” Niles laughed. The driveway ended in a large circle right in front of the house. There was a red Toyota already there, which Alex parked behind. Chris immediately got out of the car and stared up at the statues: solid marble, stunning detail. He didn’t notice Evan and Rupert Glencross had opened the door and were standing at the entrance, until one of them spoke. “What’s up guys?” Rupert said, in a low base. Chris’ eyes immediately fell on the brothers. Both wore shorts, tanks, and sandals, there muscular frames on full display. They took up every inch of space in the doorway, looking like contest ready bodybuilders. “I’m good parking here?” Alex pointed to the car. “Sure thing,” Evan Glencross said, sauntering down the steps, his voice every bit as deep as his brother’s. The friends and the brothers greeted each other with handshakes and bro hugs. Chris couldn’t help but feel an erection growing in his pants, being so close to all that muscle. Muscle that was attached to two handsome faces. He could never get used to their size. When did these guys start working out? When they were three? They were both a little north of 6’ 3’’ and wide as barn doors. Big enough to make Chris and his friends, not one of whom was over 5’ 6’’, feel like children. When Rupert Glencross shook his hand, his fingers nearly disappeared in the mitten like paw, rough with callouses. And the hug! Like grabbing a sack of boulders covered in skin. He couldn’t help but wonder how many kinds of roids these two handsome freaks were taking. “Thanks again for the invite,” Alex said. The others voiced their agreement, and complimented the home. “No problem, guys,” Evan said. “We just hope you’ll enjoy yourselves.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and flashed a set of pearly whites. “We will,” Niles said. “You guys got a pool?” “Two, one indoor and one outdoor,” Rupert said as he and his brother led the friends inside. “But first, you need to meet our father.” “Is he as big as you guys?” Danilo asked, jokingly. Rupert paused and turned. With a slight grin plastered on his handsome alpha male face, mirrored by his brother, he said, “He’s bigger.” Chapter 2 They followed the hulking brothers across white shining tile, down an expansive hallway, framed in wooden arches. “I honestly expected a butler to greet us at the door,” Niles said. Evan turned his torso slightly and glanced back towards Niles. “All the staff are off for the entire weekend,” he said. “Well, there goes my plans of being waited on hand and foot,” Alex said, laughing. “Don’t worry,” Evan Glencross said, “You all will be taken care of.” Chris stared at him, as he spoke. The sentiment was nice: “you all will be taken care off.” But he didn’t like the way he said it. The tone was filled with a false warmth. It was ominous, more a warning than a comfort. Chris shook his head. That was just his paranoia filling his mind with nonsense. This would be a fun weekend and he would enjoy himself. He repeated that silently, like a mantra. “And here we are,” Rupert said after they had walked God knows how far. He gestured ceremoniously to a large sitting room. “Father, the other guests are here.” Other guests? Chris had assumed it was just his friend group who had been invited for the weekend, then he remembered the other car parked out front. They entered the sitting room and the elder Glencross rose from the wingback chair he had been sitting in. Rupert hadn’t been lying when he said their father was ‘bigger’. He was callosal. The largest, most physically impressive human he had ever seen. From the look of awe on his friends faces, he could tell they felt the same way. “Guys, this is our father, Lawrence,” Rupert said. “Father this is Chris, Danilo, Niles, and Alex.” He pointed to each of the friends in turn. Lawrence Glencross stepped toward them and shook their hands, nearly crushing them with his beartrap like grip. He was handsome for a man near fifty, with short brown hair, greying at the sides. He stood a full head taller than his sons and must have weighed at least 100 pounds more. His khaki chinos and navy tee looked painted on to his lean, hulking physique. Chris didn’t understand how the clothes didn’t burst to shreds at the slighted movement. “Pleasure to meet you boys,” Lawrence said in a deep voice. “You’re huge!” Niles exclaimed, unable to hold in his shock. Lawrence and his sons laughed. “I get that a lot,” Lawrence said, casually bouncing his pecs and flexing his arms. “Do you compete in bodybuilding,” Chris asked, his eyes rolling over the mountain of muscle in front of him, briefly pausing to take in the mammoth bulge in the crotch. “Oh, heavens no,” Lawrence waived his hands dismissively. “Glencross men are just big. Always have been.” He gestured to the wall behind him. Chris noticed it was covered with portraits of men in dress clothes. The oldest were paintings. The newest, photographs. “The men of the Glencross line,” Lawrence said, smiling with pride. Each and every one of them was huge. “Amazing,” Danilo said. “Great genetics,” said Niles. “And other things,” Lawrence said with a smile. Chris assumed he meant steroids at first, but they didn’t have steroids over a 100 years ago. “That accent.” Lawrence turned to Danilo. “Somewhere in Eastern Europe?” “Ukraine,” Danilo said. “Ah, very nice,” Lawrence said. “There are a lot of big men over there. But I see you weren’t blessed in that department. None of you were.” The four friends looked at each other, with confused faces. Lawrence’s face was serious when he spoke. The smile he had, had disappeared. “I guess not,” Alex said, finally, with an uneasy smile. “Make a muscle!” Lawrence commanded. “All of you!” The friends each raised an arm and flexed. Lawrence felt each muscle. His hand could wrap all the way around each arm with ease. “So tiny,” he mumbled. “Can any of you fight?” He raised a fist as big as a ham and bought it down with shocking speed, but stopping short. The four friends flinched. Chris thought he might piss his pants. Lawrence turned to his sons and grinned. “You boys didn’t want a challenge this year, I see. They’re as small as the other two.” “Does it matter?” Evan asked, clearly annoyed. The elder Glencross shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Though, I always found it more fun when they were a bit of a challenge. Oh well. It’s your birthday. You boys do it how you like.” Birthday? “Alex,” Chris whispered, “Did you know it was their birthday?” Alex shook his head. “No.” “I’m a little confused,” Niles said. “What’s going on?” Lawrence smiled. “There’s a game Glencross men can only play on their birthdays. You’ve been invited here to play it. Two other players are already here, taking refreshments out back.” “What kind of game?” Chris eyed him suspiciously. “You’ll see,” Lawrence said, “But first…” He raised a basket. “Put your cell phones in here. The game will test your intelligence so cell phones will allow you to cheat and we can’t have that.” “We’re starting the game now?” Alex asked. “The game started the moment you were invited,” Rupert said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the phones back, obviously,” He laughed. The friends apprehensively dropped their phones into the basket. “Good!” Lawrence said, setting the basket on a table beside him. “Now boys, show your guests to the back and let the game begin.” Chapter 3 They were led to a large deck, overlooking an expansive back yard. The yard would have been impressive on its own, but it was made more impressive by an expansive hedge row maze the seemed to stretch as far as Chris’ eyes could see, a green sea that must have taken decades to grow. Two other guys were seated at a table on the deck, sipping lemonade and eating from a tray of finger sandwiches. Chris thought he might have seen them around campus before, but didn’t know them. “This is Jeremy,” Evan pointed to an Asian guy on the left, “and this is Mike,” he pointed to a white guy on the right. Both were short and skinny like Chris and his friends. Just what kind of game were they going to play? Chris thought it odd that not a single one of the Glencross’ jock friends was present on their supposed birthday. He expected them to have countless tall, over-muscled buddies to fraternize with. Instead, they choose to hang out with 6 skinny dweebs? Evan introduced the four friend’s and the handshakes started. “Nice to meet you,” Jeremy said, extending his hand toward Chris. “I’ve seen you in the student Union. You’re in the Culinary Club, right.” “I thought I’ve seen you around,” Chris said. “Yeah, I’m in the culinary club.” “Cool.” “While you guys get more acquainted me and my bro are gonna go get ready,” Rupert said. “Help yourselves to the food and drinks.” “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Alex stepped over and took a finger sandwich. Niles and Danilo followed. The brothers stepped back into the house, grinning at each other like they were sharing a silent joke. “So, are you guys good friends with Even and Rupert?” Mike asked. “Not really,” Chris said. “More, acquaintances.” “Weird,” Mike replied, picking up a sandwich. “Neither are we. We just know them casually through a friend of a friend. I was honestly surprised to get an invite.” “Yeah,” Jeremy said, with a mouthful, “But who could pass-up a chance to spend a weekend in a place like this, for free.” He gestured to the estate. “Right,” Danilo nodded, stuffing his mouth. “Father’s a little weird, though,” Alex whispered, stifling a laugh. Everyone nodded their agreement. “Did he comment on your size, too?” Chris asked Jeremy. “Yeah, it was weird.” He frowned slightly. “Like, dude, I get it, you’re huge, but not all of us can be a giant.” “Oh shit,” Mike said, nearly choking. He glanced up and Chris followed his gaze, as did the others. Lawrence Glencross was standing in the window overlooking the deck, staring at them, expressionless. When he saw them looking, he closed the curtain and disappeared behind a panel of white. The group shared a look, then burst into laughter. All except Chris, who merely smiled nervously. “Hey guys!” A deep voice boomed behind them. The group turned away from the table of refreshments to find Evan and Rupert bounding out the door. Chris’ eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw what the twins were wearing: skimpy black posing trunks that struggled to contain their massive packages, and nothing else. Every inch of their huge, muscular bodies was exposed, each muscle group bouncing and flexing as they walked across the deck. “What. The. Fuck?” Alex said. Everyone’s mouth was agape. “Oh shit, the white people are into some freaky shit. I’m screwed.” Niles mumbled beneath his breath, just loud enough for the group to hear, but not the Twins. The Glencross brothers beamed, grinning like clowns, obviously enjoying the reaction their insanely developed physiques were getting from the skinny guys assembled before them. They bounced their bulbous pecs and hit a few poses. Chris could feel his cock stiffening again. He adjusted it discretely and noticed others in the group were doing the same. How could you not get hard when witnessing such a display of the perfect male form. The twins were enjoying themselves as well, sporting bulges that threatened to pop their skimpy posers right off. “We’re so big, bro,” Evan said. “Yeah.” Rupert grunted, flexing harder. “And we’re gonna get bigger.” “So big.” Evan slapped his brother’s delt. “Yeah! So fucking big!” Chris saw a wet spot forming in Rupert’s posers. Was he leaking pre-cum? Was he getting that turned on by his and his brother’s size? What the fuck was going on? And why were they invited? “This is weird,” Danilo whispered. “Agreed,” Chris said, his eyes fixed on the rippling mounds of muscle before him. The brothers were lost in a trance like state, of flexing and grunting, loudly expressing their desire for more size, and getting more turned on as they did it. They flexed so hard, they began to sweat in the late morning sun. One would slap the other and then vice versa. They were getting themselves worked up, pumped for something. And then it was over. The brothers faced the group, grinning and panting, skin red and glistening. “You ready to start the game?” Rupert looked over them. “What’s the game?” Mike asked. “And why are you dressed like that?” Alex gestured to their pumped-up bodies. “And most importantly, what did we just watch?” Niles said, shaking his head, a hardon visible in his pants. The brothers looked at each other and laughed. “The game is called ‘You vs Our Muscles,’” Evan said. “It used to be played in the house, a long time ago, but the maze was put in 50 years ago and it’s been played outside ever since. The maze starts here at the deck and exits all the way over there, by the woods. As you can see, there’s no way around the house from this point. The only place to go is through the maze. The object of the game is to make it through the maze without getting caught by me or my brother. We’re dressed like this because clothing would get way to constrictive-” “And we don’t want to get our clothes dirty,” Rupert chimed in. Evan nodded, “Yeah, that too. This game gets messy. What you just saw was us getting hyped up to win.” He made a fist and slapped it into his other hand. “Understand.” The group stared at each other, a little confused. It sounded simple enough, but it was still so strange. “it’s like a fancy game of tag,” Mike said. “What happens if you catch one of us?” “You versus our muscles, happens,” Even said. “Mike, you come here, and we’ll show you guys. The rest of you stand by the entrance to the maze and be ready to start.” Everyone did as commanded by the muscle-god brother. Chris stood dead center in the middle of the five by the maze entrance, staring up at the deck. Mike stood in front of the brothers, looking like a child compared to them. Their arms were as thick as his legs. Their pecs, as big as his head. His twig like body looked frail in comparison to the towering twins. “If this is a test of strength, I think you guys are going to win.” Mike laughed. “Just stand still and shut up,” Even said, grabbing hold of Mike’s left arm. Rupert took his right. The brothers then placed a hand on each side of Mikes head, with their thumbs locked under his chin. Their comically huge hands each covered a whole side of his skull. “High five, bro,” Evan said. “High five.” Rupert grinned. Chris watched as the brother’s arms tensed. Muscle striations appeared through the skin; veins popped out in high relief. Mike’s feet left the ground. Up, up, up. Two feet in the air. He kicked and flayed, as the skin on his face wrinkled, smooshing together. “Guys, this… hurts, aah,” Mike struggled to say through gritted teeth. “What are you doing!” Jeremy shouted. “Holy shit!” Danilo backed away. Niles and Alex stared on with equal parts confusion and revulsion. Mike’s little body shook, struggling to fight against the towers of muscle holding him, but his arms were locked. He could only kick air. He let out grunts of pain, followed by an agonizing scream as the brother’s press harder on his skull, their muscles rippling with power. “This isn’t cool!” Alex shouted. “You’ll kill him!” Jeremy darted up the stairs. Chris reached out, trying to grab him, fearing what would happen, but he was to slow. Jeremy made it to the top of the stairs but took a kick to the torso from Rupert’s massive foot. He flew back and landed in Alex and Chris’ arms. Jeremy panted, struggling to reclaim the air that had been knocked out of him. Then Chris heard it. The crunch. Mikes skull cracked. He watched blood poor from his friend’s eyes, nose, and mouth. Mike went silent, His face, now disfigured, and brain, squished in. “High five!” The brothers exclaimed in unison as Mikes eyes bulged from his head and his skull completely gave way, popping like a stepped-on grape. His skinny body went limp as the brothers were given a blood shower by Mike’s spurting arteries. Their hands were pressed together, up in the air, covered in bone, blood, brains, and Mike’s skin. They lowered their arms and looked down at the five skinny guys, cowering in fear and shock. Chris’ eyes grew wide as saucers. His jaw went slack. No fucking way, he thought as he watched the blood on the brother’s bodies disappear, absorbed into their skin. And the growth…They were growing! Evan and Rupert moaned in pleasure, their bodies shaking, as they swelled, muscles getting more developed and veinier. “Each time we kill, we grow,” Rupert said, as the now more massive brothers stepped slowly towards them. “But only on our birthdays.” Evan said. “That’s the secret of Glencross men.” “But, we like the thrill of the hunt,” Rupert said, with a sadistic smile, “So run! Run for your pathetic little lives. We’re giving you a head start.” He raised his arms and flexed; the muscles of his arms looked like it might burst through his skin. “All this muscle is coming for you.” The group scampered into the maze. Danilo fell to his knees and wretched, but Alex grabbed his arm, dragging him along, leaving a trail of throw-up in his wake. “We should fight them!” Jeremy shouted, and Chris pushed him forward. “Not without a plan,” Chris said. As he moved through the walls of green, Chris heard a faint deep voice call behind them. He couldn’t make out what had been said, or even which brother had said it, but it didn’t matter. His focus was ahead, toward the end of the maze, toward survival.
  14. musclegin30

    The Ooze (Short Story)

    This is simple one shot. A short story about love and muscle. I hope you enjoy it. Synopsis: Sean and Ali are college roommates who decide to go on a camping trip. They enter a stretch of Woods in upstate New York, known for strange occurrences. A place where dreams can come true. They dream of growth and something more. There is a stretch of woods in upstate New York as deep and mysterious as the wellspring of human desire. It’s a place older than any small town in the region, but not as old as the mountains that gird its borders; A place where strange occurrences are so common, they’re old hat. They say dreams come true in those woods. They, being the “locals”. Nightmares come true also, certainly, but this isn’t a story about nightmares. It’s one about dreams come true and desires, fulfilled… * “Let’s go camping,” Sean Ewing said, one day out of the blue, a week before the end of sophomore year at SUNY New Paltz. “Just the two of us.” Ali Demir looked up from his laptop, surprised. “Camping?” he asked. “Camping,” Sean said, as if it needed no further explanation. Get some tents, load up his SUV, drive somewhere off the beaten path, and rough it for a few days. Camping! Sean loved the outdoors and so did Ali, so why not? “Ok, sounds fun.” Ali smiled, and just like that, it was a done deal. That’s how they found themselves on a desolate stretch of rural highway, in Sean’s beat up Jeep Cherokee Laredo, heading straight for the forest of dreams come true. They were two strangers, who became college roommates, and then close friends, the type of friends who everyone wondered ‘Are they gay?’. Sean and Ali had a friendship that was only suspect because they were male. Their shared looks, and touching, and sharing of food off each other’s plates and drinks from each other’s glasses wouldn’t have gone unnoticed had they been born with vaginas instead of penises. New Paltz was far behind them now, and Sean’s GPS reception was going in and out, but they were on the right path. Just a little farther and they would arrive, and Sean would be in the woods, in a tent, with Ali Demir. And he would tell Ali how he felt; how he wanted to be so much more than friends and hopefully Ali would fill the same way. They’d make quite the couple. Him, with the all-American good looks, six foot two, with caramel brown hair, green eyes, and a chiseled jaw line. His body hard and lean from hours in the gym. And Ali, the foreign exchange student from Turkey, with his dark hair that hung just past his ears in waves, his dark piercing eyes with a face, less angular than Sean’s, and thick, luscious lips, that begged to be kissed. Ali loved soccer and played it any chance he got, giving him an athletic build, not heavily muscled, but pleasing to the eye. “You’ve been camping in this forest before?” Ali said in his thick Turkish accent that was both funny and oh so sexy to Sean’s ears. “Not in this particular place, but I’ve been camping nearby with my father and brother.” They whizzed by countless trees, whose long shadows stretched across the road. How many people had those trees seen, Sean wondered? Families. Friends, Lovers... “I’ve read these woods are special,” Ali said, staring out the open car window, a breeze running through his dark locks. “Special how?” Sean asked, glancing briefly towards his friend. “Like, people see weird shit?” Sean laughed. He always found it funny when Ali cursed. Him and a couple of friends had taught the Turk all the American curse words. ‘Shit’ and ‘Fuck’ were his favorites but with his accent they came out as ‘sheet’ and ‘fahk’. Ali eyed him coyly, then said “Shit, Shit, Shit!” Making Sean laugh even harder. When Sean regained his composure he said, “I don’t know about weird sightings, but I do know people say wishes come true in these woods.” How he hoped so. “Is that right?” Ali looked at him, with a smile playing on his sexy lips. Their eyes met briefly. “That’s right,” Sean said, turning away from Ali’s eyes. They were dark like the ocean at night. He could find himself lost in them. “So, I heard.” “This is it,” Sean announced after a moment of silence. He turned onto a narrow road covered by a canopy of branches so thick it was like going into a tunnel. They parked in a gravel lot that had a lookout. The two friends leaned on the railing taking in the sight of the Adirondack mountains far in the distance and a babbling brook below. Then they took a series of Instagram photos. In the final shot Sean captured the two of them together, arms slung over each other’s shoulders and biggest smiles plastered on their faces. They loaded their gear onto their backs and marched off, side by side down a mossy forest trail, just after Noon. Their packs were heavy and Sean was thankful they were both physically fit as they trudged up the sloping path. Ali moved ahead of Sean at one point. He wore shorts that fell just above the knee. Sean watched the ball of Ali’s lean calf rise and fall, flexing with each step. His eyes moved up and he gazed with lust at Ali’s firm, tight ass pushing out against the fabric of those shorts. Sean had always admired his friend’s ass. Oh, the things he’d do to that ass! How would it go? Sean found himself daydreaming on the long hike, fantasizing about the night to come. First, they would eat a light meal: fresh fish cooked over an open fire. Their eyes would meet across the flames as the fire’s hypnotic glow washed over them, it’s heat nothing in comparison to the passionate heat building within them. Sean would smile. Ali would smile and an unspoken pact would pass between them. Tonight, is the night we do it. The big It. Sean would say I’m tired, let’s hit the sleeping bags. Ali would agree and they would go, walking close, peeling out of their clothes. Of course, they would share a tent. Inside the tent, shirtless, wearing only boxers, the two would lie in repose atop the softness of their sleeping bags, gazing up sharing furtive glances at each other. Outside, the sound of nightlife would fill the air, a symphonic chorus of animals all seeking out mates of their own. Ali would make small talk about some obscure Oscar bait film he had seen, him being a film buff. Sean would listen intently, though he cared little for films, because he could listen to Ali talk about anything and enjoy it. Sean would rest on his side, leaning on his bent arm staring at Ali with a grin as he spoke. Staring, until the sexual tension was so thick it couldn’t be resisted any further. He would lean in closer and closer, feeling Ali’s nervous breath hit his face. Then the kiss, long and passionate, with lots of tongue. Sean’s hand would fall over Ali’s lean waist, running along his obliques. Ali would grip a bicep with one hand and Sean’s back with the other. Their pecs touch and their hearts would race with passion, beating as one. Ali’s hands would move lower to Sean’s underwear, seeking out his cock, tugging at it, letting it stiffen in his hand. Once Sean was as hard as he could get, Ali would go down on him, taking the thick seven and a half in cock in his mouth lubing it up, before turning to present his ass for penetration saying do you want it. Do you like it… “Do you like it?” “Huh?” Sean said, pulled from his daydream. “I was saying this looks like a good spot to setup camp,” Ali said. “Do you like it.” Sean looked around. Flat open land, with good shade, near the lake. “Yeah, I love it.” He pulled his pack off and let it fall to the ground. “It’s perfect.” They setup camp quickly and Sean said, “Wanna check out the lake.” Ali smiled. “Sounds good.” They walked down a slight incline through a copse of Aspens, whose trunks were so white and straight it was like passing through a series of roman columns. The path ended in an expanse of smooth stones, sedges, and mud. Larger stones, big enough to sit on bordered the lake. They each kicked their shoes off and claimed two stones side by side, then sat, letting their bare feet send waves across the shimmering water. Sean peeled off his shirt and tossed it on a log, deciding he’d like to get a little sun. He flexed his muscles slightly, and caught Ali looking him over. “All that working out is paying off for you,” Ali said. “You think so.” Sean looked down at his physique. His muscles taught and defined, but still pretty small. “I’ve still got some growing to do.” “Maybe so,” Ali said. “But most guys would kill to have a body like yours. I know I would.” Sean blushed. He loved when people complimented his body, but from Ali, it was really something special. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he said. “You have a good frame. If you started lifting weights, I think you’d surpass me.” Ali laughed. “I’m not so sure, but I might try to, how you say ‘bulk up?’” “Go for it, man.” Sean stood up, grinning. “Grow some guns like these.” He hit a double bicep pose. “May I…” Ali stood up and extended his hand. Sean instinctively leaned in, and Ali squeezed his bicep. “So hard.” Sean glanced down and noticed a bulge in Ali’s shorts. Apparently, his biceps weren’t the only thing hard. Ali was smiling widely as he poked and prodded Sean’s arms. “You like that?” Sean asked, feeling his own cock stiffening. “I’m just impressed,” Ali said. He poked Sean’s upper abs, then let his hand go lower, running his fingers over each abdominal bump. Sean wondered if he should kiss him. Would that ruin the moment or make it better? Their eyes met and for a split-second Sean was going to do it. He was going to lean in, grab Ali Demir behind the head and plant one on those luscious lips that demanded to be kissed. But he faltered. Instead, he continued to flex, letting his friend ogle over his physique. “You think I look go now,” Sean said. “Wait until you see me in a year. I’m going to be huge!” “I wish you were bigger right now,” Ali said. Sean smiled. “I think you might have a muscle fetish.” “A what?” Ali looked confused. “A fetish, you know. I mean maybe you don’t know. A fetish is like a thing that gets you off.” “Get off of what?” Ali asked. “I’m sorry, I know a lot of idioms, but not nearly enough.” Sean immediately felt uncomfortable at the thought of explaining ‘getting off’ to his crush, friend or no friend. “You wanna go for a swim?” Sean asked, changing the subject. “Absolutely!” Ali immediately took off his clothes. All. Of. His. Clothes. Sean was given a brief glimpse of his slightly erect cock before Ali leapt in the water with a splash. “Wow dude! I hadn’t planned on skinny dipping,” he said. Inside he thought yes! “Skinny dipping?” Ali made a confused face again. His wet hair was plastered to his head, shining like obsidian. “Swimming naked!” “Oh. In Turkey me and my cousins swam naked all the time. Haha. Skinny dip. Funny expression.” “Oh, so you’ve done this a lot.” Sean had hoped Ali had done it just for him. “Many times. Is best way to swim.” Ali did a back stroke, his cock coming close to the surface, but not breaking through. Sean shrugged and followed suit, stripping naked, then jumping in the water to join his friend. He wondered if some bird watcher somewhere had their binoculars trained on them or if some hikers caught sight of them. What must they think. Then it dawned on him. He was naked, swimming with his crush and yet he had been too uncomfortable to explain the expression ‘getting off’ earlier. He felt stupid. Ali was so open. He could talk to him about anything. He could say anything… Ask anything. “Ali, are you gay?” Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes. Ali stared at him briefly, then gave a coy smile. “Yeah, like you.” “Wait. You know I’m gay?” Sean was surprised. They never discussed sexual matters. “It’s obvious. No?” Sean didn’t think it was that obvious, but that didn’t matter. The important thing was Sean’s fantasy was a distinct possibility. He might very well have sex with Ali on this trip. He could hardly contain his happiness. The two swam and splashed water on each other for a bit before climbing back onto the rocks. Ali left the water first and Sean got a good look at his perfect ass in all its bare glory. Tight and round, and a little hairy, the sight of it made him light headed. They sat naked on the rocks, chatting, letting the sun dry them before getting dressed again. Sean thought about going in for a kiss several times during breaks in the conversation, but he decided he would save it. The night would be better, more romantic. Later that afternoon they returned to the lake with fishing equipment and caught a few trout for dinner. Sean cleaned a prepped the trout while Ali watched with rapt attention. The Turk had never cleaned a whole fish before, he admitted and honestly found he idea of touching the guts disgusting. Sean worked shirtless, not wanting to get fish blood on his shirt, and sensed that his friend was paying as much attention to his abs as he was the fish. Sean seasoned the fish with a little salt and pepper and skewered them on sticks. They roasted the fish over a crackling fire and ate until they were content, watching the flames die down to embers and the white ash drift toward the star-filled sky. “Look!” Ali shouted. He pointed to the horizon. A shooting star cut across the sky, followed by another, then another. A meteor shower. Sean took out his phone to film it. “Unbelievable!” he exclaimed, as gleeful as a child. “That one looks like it’s getting bigger.” They shared a confused look, then turned back to the sky. One meteor was not moving in the same direction as the other. It was headed towards them, an ever-expanding glowing orb. “Holy shit!” Sean followed its trail across the sky as it whizzed high over their heads. They heard a crash, far in the distance. “Do you think it landed in this forest?” Ali asked. “At that angle It had to of,” Sean said, grabbing a flashlight from the tent. “Come on!” He tugged at Ali’s arm and darted off in the direction of the crash. Ali raced behind him. They searched and searched to no avail. At one point it seemed they were going in circles. After an hour and a half Ali stopped him. He was sweaty and panting. “We’re not going to find. It’s too far away, wherever it is.” Sean shook his head in disappointment. It couldn’t have been that far away. He was sure of it, but he was tired as well. It would have been so cool to find he thought, but he decided to give up. Maybe they could look for it tomorrow. By the time they arrived at the tent the two friends were too tired to do anything but fall asleep. Sean couldn’t stay asleep long, however. He soon awoke with thoughts of the meteor in his head. Something in him urged him to seek it out. He glanced over at Ali, sleeping peacefully beside him and decided to let him rest. He’d look for it alone. Armed with a heavy walking stick in one hand and his flashlight in the other, he set out in search of the wayward space rock. He hadn’t been searching for long when he came upon it. Somehow, it was as if he knew where to walk. Some invisible force pointed him in the right direction, and he went along with it instinctively. The crater lay before him, an eerie blue glow rising from it, pulsing. The closer he came to its edge the less control he seemed to have. There was pulling, like he was iron, and the meteor was a magnet, and inside him there was a feeling. What was this feeling? Desire. Desire for what? Desire for what the meteor could give. But…What could a space rock give? He looked over the craters edge, that feeling of desire urging him along. At the center of the charred smoking earth a basketball sized rock sat. Veins of deep blue webbed it surface. It looked like no meteor he had heard about in school. Or were they called meteorites after they hit the ground? He’d forgot. The terminology wasn’t important in that moment, all that mattered was reaching it. But why? Why did he feel that desire? What could it give him? Carefully, he stepped down into the crater, which was a perfect circle many yards wide, and crouched beside the meteor. Its pulsing veins went dead! Its glow diminished to nothing in an instant and then…CRACK! Its surface split. Sean’s heartbeat with trepidation, his muscles tensed. From within the crack a black ooze spilled forth, bulging, bubbling, sending out pseudopods like an amoeba. Was it alive? The ooze was as shiny as greased obsidian in the glow of his flashlight. And Sean’s desire grew. He wanted it. Whatever It was. Without warning thin tendrils stretched upward and latched around his bare left forearm. Fear took hold in him as he dropped his flashlight and tumbled back, clawing at his arm, trying to get the ooze off of him. But the fear was only a short-lived response. A reaction to the sudden speed at which the being took hold of him. Within seconds the fear dissipated as he felt the ooze. Really felt it, as it stretched itself up his arm and melted into his skin. The feeling was orgasmic. What was this pleasure, this full body experience, that was better than sex? And then he noticed it. He knew now what he was desiring, what the meteor could give. He was growing! He saw it first in the forearm the ooze had latched on to. It was bigger than his other, disproportionate, like Popeye’s. Then his left bicep and tricep swelled, pushing against his skin, stretching it taught and thin, so thin that every vein and striation was visible. His arm must have been 20 inches around. So hard and lean. So large and powerful. He got an erection just looking at it. Then he felt his left delt and trap inflating, growing thick and full with more and more hard, dense muscle. He must have resembled tome deformed creature now, part of him looking like a Mister Olympia contender while the rest of him was skinny in comparison. And then his chest popped. Each pec swelled outward, shelf-like muscle titties, pressing against the fabric, threatening to burst free. With one swift motion of his muscled arm, he ripped the shirt clean off, exposing his new perfect pecs, the pecs of his dreams. Each one stacked with so much shredded muscle they felt heavy. Looking down at them, he couldn’t even see his abs. Sean cupped them in his hands and smiled widely as he bounced them up and down. The transformation spread to his right arm. This time beginning with the traps and delts and working its way down. He watched with rapt attention as veins sprouted upward, snaking their way down to his now thick, more masculine hands. And all along the orgasmic feeling did not abate. It only grew. He was more euphoric the more he grew, with every new inch added, every new vein, each new striation. He flexed his upper body, wishing there was a mirror in front of him so he could see the change that he felt in his abs. He ran his hands over them, counting the ridges. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. Eight! He never had an eight pack before. And the lines between them were so deeply cut you could lose a coin in them. He continued to rub his hands over his cobblestone stomach, feeling the paper-thin skin slide over the stone-like muscle as the transformation worked itself down to his quads. Each thickened in unison. Between them he could feel his third leg thickening as well, stretching longer and longer. Behind him, his glutes popped out, hard lumps of muscle. His calves jutted back, larger than he ever imagined they could grow. He now stood on tree trunk thick legs that straddled a horse cock, that would make any porn star jealous. Sean looked like he was ready for the Olympia stage, his whole body swollen with perfectly proportioned, shredded mounds of veiny muscle. He had the body of his dreams. When the transformation was complete, he stood admiring himself briefly. He wanted to whip out his throbbing erection and masturbate right there in the crater. But no. He would save that for Ali. Oh, Ali. His Turkish friend might just blow a load upon laying his eyes on him. As he ran back to the campsite, he felt his shoes fall apart. He had been so enamored by the muscle, and filled with euphoria, he hadn’t felt the discomfort in his feet as they expanded against is shoes. His pants, too, began to fail, ripping at the seams as he bent his legs, but they managed to stay on, albeit in tatters. 260 pounds (if he had to guess) of shirtless, muscle hunk came barreling through the woods in the direction his sleeping friend. “Wait until Ali sees me now. He wished I was bigger and I am.” Sean thought about Ali’s cut little ass and what his new monster muscle cock would do to it. The forest around him blended to a blur as Sean whizzed past tree trunks and shrubs. Branches snapped against his new hard muscles, but he barely felt them. His mind was solely on getting to his friend. What would Ali say? What would he do? How does one react in the face of a miracle? The tent was coming into view now. A light moved around. Ali was up, holding a lantern at arm’s length. “Sean!” Ali called, and Sean stepped from the shadows into the lantern’s glow, his chest, heaving, dripping with sweat. * Ali Demir turned when he heard the sound of leaves and twigs cracking. He raised the lantern to see a half-naked bodybuilder in tattered pants stepping towards him. He stumbled back, taken by jolt of fear. “Who…” he began. Then “Where is…” It was as if he lost all the English he learned. The words just evaporated on his tongue. The hulking figure before him was the perfect man. He couldn’t speak. He could only stare at the physical perfection and though he had been startled, he couldn’t run. When his eyes caught sight of the lean glistening muscle he was frozen by a feeling of pure attraction. He could feel an aura of sexiness in the air flowing off this muscle god and taking a deep hold of him. Who was he? Why was he here? “Ali.” He speaks. The living dream speaks! And it knows my name! “It’s me. Sean.” The man smiled, motioned to his chest with his hands, and moved one step closer. The muscle fibers in his arms chest and shoulders danced with every movement. Ali stared, incredulous. This man was twice Sean’s size, a god fallen from Olympus. His voice was deeper, his jaw squarer. But the eyes… yes, the eyes, and the nose. Even the hair style. They all screamed Sean. The tatters, too, dangling about the behemoth’s thick legs looked like the remains of Sean’s pants, as well. Ali shook his head. “I can’t believe it. How?” Sean told him about the crater, the meteor, the strange ooze and the orgasmic growth. As he listening to Sean’s story, he built up the courage to approach him. He stood inches away from his massive friend, who only seemed to have grown in muscle, not height. Sean stopped speaking as Ali looked him in the eyes and began to feel his new muscles. Ali had never encountered a body like it. His eyes turned downward drinking in every inch of Sean’s body as his hands ran over the bulges, veins, and striations, muscles hard as stones, skin as thin as paper. He gave special attention to the pecs, his favorite part. Ali could see Sean’s massive erection pushing upward, the bulbous head peeking out over the waist band of those tattered pants. Its body was thick and veiny, pulsing, and from its tip hung a long stream of thick pre-cum. Ali licked his lips. As his hands made a second pass over Sean’s chest, his friend gripped them in his larger, stronger hands and held them. Their eyes met and Sean leaned in, tilting his head. Ali mirrored the motion, locking lips with his friend in a passionate, exhilarating, long awaited kiss. Sean let go of Ali’s hands and grabbed on to his waist. Ali reached his own hands around Sean’s massive frame and held on to his thick back. I could stay like this for ever, Ali thought. They took a respite from the kiss and Ali said, “So, this really is a place where dreams come true.” “It really is,” Sean said. They kissed again. * It’s happening! It’s happening! Sean could barely contain his excitement as his lips locked with Ali’s and their tongues frolicked. His cock was painfully erect. Ali’s smaller (but no less hard} erection was pressing into his crotch. He couldn’t tell if the wet spot on his friend's pajama bottoms was from his own pre-cum or Ali’s or both, but he could feel it growing, spreading like the heat of their passion into the crisp night air. The stars above, the lantern glow, the muscles, the kiss, his friend so turned on…It was perfect. It was better than his fantasy, better than his wish. “I want to make love to you. All of you,” Ali whispered into his ear. “I want you to.” * Ali stripped naked as Sean ripped his tattered pants off, fully exposing his bulging glutes, mammoth thighs, and unbelievable cock. He led the muscle god by the hand, into the tent, their erections bobbing eagerly with each step. Ali carried the lantern with them. These acts had to be done in the light. He had to see the muscles as he worked them. He had to see Sean’s expression as he rocked his world. Ali asked Sean to lie on his back then climbed on top of the mountain of muscle. Sean’s nipples were erect, looking like two baby pacifiers. Ali squeezed and twisted them gently, teasing his friend. He fell forward, mouth slightly parted and kissed him, feeling those huge, hard pecs below him. Ali grinded on top of all that muscle pushing his body into Sean’s, letting there throbbing, hard cocks touch. * It was all he had wanted for so long. Now it was happening. He was making love with Ali, cute, sexy, Ali! The Turk pulled away from his mouth and stared at him briefly before kissing his way down his neck to his chest. Ali’s hands ran over his shoulders and biceps as he did so, caressing, squeezing, admiring. Sean flexed them causing Ali to smile. There was heat emanating from him, between them. Sweat was beading on his body and Ali lapped it up with his tongue, dragging it sensuously over the ridges and striation of his physique. His friend was a thirsty animal and he had what it took to quench that thirst. * Ali was happy to hear Sean’s moans of pleasure as he teased him with his tongue, taking in his salty sweat. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked, then bit it gently. He moved from one to the other. Ali’s legs were spread, splayed out with Sean’s cock rising high between them. The massive member bounced, slapping Ali in the ass, as Sean was in midst of ecstasy, having his body worshipped. Ali felt, squeezed, licked, kissed every bulging muscle on Sean in turn, even rolling him over at one point to give his back side love too. Below them the floor of the tent was wet with precum. * It was too much. The foreplay. Sean couldn’t take it anymore. His balls churned. His cock throbbed. It yearned for release. But Ali wasn’t finished yet. He felt jolts of pleasure as Ali ran his tongue up his shaft, tickling his bulbous head with the tip of it, then taking the hole thing into his mouth. “I want to cum in the hot ass of yours,” Sean said. The first thing he had said other than an exclamation of pleasure since they had begun. Ali pulled away, a thin trail of saliva stretching from Sean’s cock to his mouth. The whole shaft was glistening with his saliva in the lantern light. Sean rose to his knees and turned Ali around with his strong hands. The Turk lean forward, glancing back with a coy smile that said, “I’m ready.” Sean playfully spanked him and cupped Ali’s firm ass in his hands, squeezed it like pieces of fruit he was checking for ripeness. Then he parted the cheeks, spit on the hole and stuck two thick fingers in, priming it for a fucking. Ali moaned loudly as Sean fingered him deep. Then he removed his fingers and places his throbbing cock into position, entering his friend’s hungry asshole. With rhythmic thrusts that shook Ali’s body, he began to pound, grunting. Ali’s long black curls, glistening with sweat dangled beside his head swinging back and forth in time with the thrusts. Their moans of pleasure rose up into the night, intermingling with the sounds of the forest, overpowering them until it seemed there was nothing outside of that tent. There was only them in that moment, in the whole wide world. * Ali’s hole was stretched as far as it could go. He was on the razors edge between pleasure and pain. Tears of joy welled up in his eyes. His hands dug like claws into the floor of the tent, nearly ripping through it. His whole body quaked. He could feel the force of Sean’s ejaculation when it happened. The warm cum filled him. But there was something else…Another feeling. * Sean’s eyes were closed briefly as he was transported to another world called ‘Pure Ecstasy’, but he opened them when he felt a strange sensation on his cock. It was being squeezed. With Awe he watched as Ali’s cute ass grew and bulged with muscle, at first hardly believing it. Why was Ali changing? He hadn’t been near the meteor. Sean pulled out, and saw, not white, but black dripping from his cock and from his friend’s ass. At first, he was frightened, then he remembered the strange ooze that latched on to him from the meteor. He recognized it here, now, a shining black ichor making its way into his friend. Then the growth continued. * Ali felt the best feeling he had ever felt moving through his body and watched as his legs bulged with muscle, one at a time. Then his abs bulged, then his chest and shoulders. The growth moved up his body, with his Arms the last to grow. He looked down at his new physique in shock. It was the body of his dreams. He was slightly smaller than Sean but looked every bit like a competition ready bodybuilder. The two friends stared at each other. Sean’s hand reached out for Ali and felt him as if to make sure it was real. “What was in me…I shared it with you,” Sean said, wide eyed. “I guess both of our wishes came true,” Ali said, looking down at himself and flexing. Veins popped and striations rippled. “You tired?” Sean asked. “No.” “Wanna go again?” Ali smiled so widely, his face might have split. “Yes, but this time you worship me.” He did a double bicep pose. * Sean pounced, locking lips, their hard bodies becoming intertwined. “I’m glad I suggested we go camping,” he said. “I’m glad I said yes,” Ali replied. They didn’t sleep for the rest of that night.
  15. musclegin30

    The Muscle Gut Club (A Novel)

    Synopsis: Aron is an 18 year-old muscle obsessed college freshman who masturbates to muscular guys online. His favorite videos to watch are those of The Muscle Gut Club, four muscle gods who make a living sharing their size and strength with the online world. Steven is a muscle obsessed college junior who likes The Muscle Gut Club videos as well, though he hates himself for enjoying something so blatantly homosexual. Life becomes complicated for them both when the club leaps from the cyber world and into the real one. Aron goes down a path that leads to his wildest fantasies, while Steven takes a darker road. There will be muscle worship; there will be sex; there will be humiliation; there will be revenge; and there will be growth. No ones lives with be the same, including those of the club members in this 38 chapter long, muscle filled, character driven story told from 6 characters' points of view. Come and meet The Muscle Gut Club. Chapter One: Aron Aron Ocampo sat in his darkened room with only the faint glow of his laptop screen illuminating his face. His cock was in his right hand, dripping with pre-cum and steadily growing harder becoming so engorged with blood that it almost hurt. A pleasurable hurt. In his other hand, a tube of lotion, ready to lubricate his manhood. On the laptop he watched intently as a muscle stud moved closer to the camera filling more and more of the screen with his immense size. He was standing in a Starkly decorated living room. Clad only in a tiny red poser that could barely contain his bulging manhood the young muscle monster began to flex. His neck was astonishingly thick. It blended into two mountainous traps that met two cannonball delts. His arms were 19 inches around and framed a pair of perfect slab-like pecs that jutted out so far you could eat off of the shelf they created. He struck a front double bicep pose followed by a most muscular. The muscle god was not lean, but Aron didn’t care. He liked his men big and this fine specimen fit the bill. His muscle gut stuck out just past his pecs, obviously stuffed with a large high protein meal to fuel the muscle bull’s growth. Aron began to slowly stroke his erect little cock. The camera panned down to focus on the muscle god’s thick legs. They were like tree trunks. The monster legs were so big they almost made the meat between them look small, but Aron knew that was only an illusion. That cock was not small. He had seen it many times before. Aron stroked himself faster now. There came a knock. The muscle monster swaggered over to the door and opened it revealing a tiny pale twink, so skinny and short it was laughable but Aron couldn’t laugh. He was just like him, a pathetically small and weak boy who could never compare to a real man like the muscle god who made his cock throb with pleasure. “You came to worship me, your master?” The muscle god’s voice was deep and he spoke with authority. “Yes master,” Said the twink, clearly intimidated. He wore nothing, save for a pair of boxers. Aron wished he was in his position and could be in the presence of such impressive muscle. Lucky bastard he thought The muscle god pulled the twink into the room with one powerful arm so fast that the little fellows feet momentarily left the floor. He landed approximately six inches from the muscle god. The twink’s head only reached his master’s chest. He looked like a schoolboy next to a full-grown man. The muscle man’s biceps were bigger than his legs! Aron continued to stroke himself, slower now. He had to pace it just right. The muscle god handed the little twink a bottle of baby oil. “Get to it shrimp,” he said with a grin as he flexed his huge arms. He looked at his muscle obviously impressed with himself. “God, I’m fucking big,” he bellowed. The little shrimp began to oil his muscle master. He rubbed and caressed each body part. The pecs seemed to be his favorite part and he paid them special attention. He got on tippy toes to kiss them up and down as the muscle god squeezed and relaxed. Squeezed and relaxed. The twink began to suck on the nipples making the muscle god moan with pleasure. “Oh yeah, worship my monster pecs.” “Yes master.” The twink’s little cock was growing pushing out the fabric of his boxers. The muscle monster’s cock was growing as well, straining his tiny posers. Aron began to stroke his manhood faster now. The climax was coming and he wanted to time it perfectly. “You worship my muscles well. Now how about you worship this.” The muscle god grabbed his bulge. At-least 2 inches of his cock was sticking out of the top of his posers. “Fuck ‘em,” said the muscle monster as he pulled off his posers with a loud RIP revealing his 8-inch python. “I outgrew them months ago.” “They fit perfectly to me,” said the twink with a smile. “Shut-up and suck,” commanded the muscle god. He pushed down on the twink’s shoulders and the little guy collapsed to his knees. Almost as fast as he hit the ground he had the cock in his mouth and began to suck with enthusiasm and glee. Aron watched longingly. God, I wish it was me. The twink deep-throated the whole cock, sucking it and pleasing it from balls to tip. He twisted his head from side to side working the thick veiny shaft with such skill that the muscle god was high on pleasure. He threw his head back and moaned, “yes, yes!” Aron was stroking his own cock in almost perfect rhythm with the twink’s sucking motions. The spasms came slow at first and then faster. He was about to blow. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” the muscle monster began to shout. The twink stopped sucking. Still on his knees he looked up at the towering behemoth above him. Its cock aimed square at his face. The twink closed his eyes. Aron closed his eyes. The muscle god blew several huge loads all over the twink’s face. Aron shot his cum into a strategically placed garbage can under his desk. Aron loosed the grip on his cock and took in a few deep breaths. Some cum had made its way onto his hand and he was sweating slightly. The twink’s face was covered in a layer of muscle man spunk, thick and creamy white. He looked like he fell head first into a bowl of yogurt. It oozed by his eyes and dripped from his chin. The twink began to lick the warm cum from his face. “That’s right boy. Suck it all in. You aint leaving here until every drop of that cum is in you.” The huge stud placed his hands on his muscle gut and began to laugh as the twink continued to eat his cum with audible MMMs. The screen went black and Aron was left feeling empty now that the video had ended. He knew it was only a 10-minute video when he purchased it for $50, yet somehow he thought it would go on longer, or at least hoped as much. He had purchased the video from the Muscle Gut Club website. The Muscle Gut Club was a group of four college aged men dedicated to growing their bodies and sharing their progress with adoring fans the world over. With a combination of free youtube videos showcasing their lives and hardcore videos on their for sale site, they took the Internet’s muscle fetish community by storm. The four muscle gods lived together, ate together, and pumped iron together. Aron made his way over to the club’s youtube page, and clicked on one of their older videos: Muscle Gut Club Protein Bloat. The whole club was sitting on a huge black leather sofa. Edmund Moreno, the junior competitive bodybuilder, sat on the far left. His dark brown locks fell just to his earlobes His tanned skin and square jaw were to die for. In the middle sat the two muscle bears, the weightlifters, Brendon Lane and Daniel Hogan. Brendon was smaller here than in the video Steven had just paid $50 for. He still had the same mocha skin, short neatly trimmed beard, and bloated muscle gut. Daniel, the Irish American was pale, hairy, and sported a lumberjack style beard. On the far right sat Thomas Patel, the Indian fitness model and physique competitor. He was by far the smallest of the bunch, the only one under 6 feet and 200 pounds, but his 160 pounds of lean muscle packed on a 5 foot 8-inch frame made him an impressive site. Thomas was hairless save for the short, neatly combed black hair on the top of his head. All four of the studs were wearing nothing but briefs (strained at the seams). In front of them was a table filled with high protein delights. There was a family sized bucket of KFC fried chicken, four steak fajitas, a pound of crispy bacon, 8 hamburgers, and a platter of bbq wings piled so high as to form a mountain in the center of the table. Aron was always impressed by the club’s eating ability and this video was over one-year-old. Surely they could eat twice this now since they had all grown. Edmund was the first to speak. He spread his arms wide. “We are going to eat all of this. It’s enough food for 16 normal people, but we aren’t normal. We’re fucking gods.” He flexed his biceps and the other’s followed suite, though his had the most impressive peaks of the bunch. “What are we celebrating boys?” asked Edmund. “My powerlifting meet,” said Daniel. “The success of my photoshoot,” said Thomas. “Being the biggest motherfucker here,” shouted Brandon with a pat of his gut and a laugh. “And I’m celebrated the end of my bulk. After this it’s time to get shredded for my next competition,” said Edmund, “let’s feed these muscles”. At once these half naked muscle gods greedily dove into the food like they hadn’t eaten in days. Bite after bite, so fast it was a wonder no one got hurt. They grabbed and shoved and gnawed in the sexiest spectacle of gluttony on the web. Four alphas feeding their growing physiques, trying to satiate their oversized appetites. The club members began to rub and pat each other’s distended bellies, laughing at, and admiring the damage done. Aron was growing hard again, and so were the members of the club. The gentle creak of Aron’s bedroom door opening startled him. He quickly closed the video. His heart raced. Mrs. Rita Ocampo, Aron’s mother, entered the dim room and stood just inside the door. She wore a silk night gown and a tired expression. “It’s 1 am,” she said. “Yeah.” Aron did not turn around. He slyly slid his cock back into his pants. “What were you doing Aron?” “Nothing! Just getting ready for bed.” Aron closed his laptop and turned around with a pout. “Can you knock next time mom. You know I’m old enough for some privacy.” His room had no lock. Parent’s rules. “You still live under my roof.” Not for long. “But I will knock next time,” She said, rolling her eyes. When his mother had gone Aron took a deep breath. One of his biggest fears was his parents discovering him watching gay porn or any material that could be seen as homoerotic in nature. Aron discovered he was gay, or rather accepted the fact, when he was 16. His parents had no clue to their son’s true nature as far as he knew and Aron did everything he could to keep it that way. His parents did not approve of the lifestyle and considered it a terrible sin. He had had hopes of sitting his parents down on his 18th birthday and telling them the truth, but his 18th came and went 2 months ago with not a peep. Instead he remarked to a classmate, within earshot of his father, how hot his neighbor’s 19-year-old daughter was, all in an attempt to keep the façade intact. It doesn’t matter. In a month I’ll be in college, free to do what I want and be what I want. Aron smiled at the thought as he crawled into bed, before drifting into a dream land populated with muscle men. Chapter Two: Steven Steven Hess stood naked in his cramped bathroom facing the mirror. His expression was one of disappointment. In 3 weeks I’ll be back in college with this same pathetic body, he thought. Standing at an even 6 feet, with a flabby 180 build, he not an impressive sight. Clothed, he could suck in his paunch and pass for fit to the untrained but here, standing naked there was no hiding his lack of definition. He grabbed at 3 inches of flab on his stomach and shook it with a frown. He performed a front double bicep only to discover there was hardly any peak on his 14.5 inch arms. He was disgusted and only grew more disgusted the longer he stared at his reflection. Still he stared. He squeezed his soft pale pecs and flexed his invisible abs. He left the bathroom in a huff and proceeded to get dressed in a pair of blue denim shorts and a light gray t-shirt. Steven sat at his computer desk. A few thin rays of morning sun speckled his shirt, warming him. But Steven did not want to be warm. He got up to turn on his air conditioner and close his blinds, choosing to sit in cool darkness. Muscle Gut Club. The thought seemed to come from nowhere. Muscle Gut Club. An inner voice seemed to call out for him to watch their videos. I thought these urges were gone. I thought I was cured of these sinful thoughts. He shook his head in anger. Steven had first discovered the club’s videos when he was 18, two years ago. He had started working out at the time and the club served as motivation for him. Their early videos consisted of mostly flexing, workouts, and eating. Steven hoped to look like them. However, his efforts proved fruitless. After eight months in the gym he had gained 10 pound and half of that he believed to be fat. Steven came to the conclusion that the club members must be on steroids, that anyone with big muscles must be on steroids. Steven had decided he would never defile his body with such impure and dangerous compounds so he quit that working out business. Still, he continued to watch Muscle Gut Club videos, even as they grew more sexual in nature. Where once the club would do a video fully clothed (very tight clothes of course) they would now do them in boxer briefs. Steven masturbated to several of their videos, especially the ones focused on Edmund, the bodybuilder. I’m not gay. I’m not gay. I’m just hormonal and young. Everything makes me horny. There’s nothing wrong with this he would tell himself. The more he said it, the less he believed it until he forced himself to stop watching Muscle Gut Club videos once and for all. His abstinence lasted all of a week when he discovered that he went to the same college as the club. There videos were filmed off campus in a private home so there was nothing in them to give away the location. There was no hiding their faces, though. Steven was walking to the dining hall and the four muscle gods walked towards him, Brendon, Thomas, Daniel, and Edmund, Oh Edmund. From that point on Steven was at war with his homosexual desires. Now he sat in is dim room faced a decision. Listed to the voice: Muscle Gut Club or fight it. He chose to listen. I’ll stop tomorrow. It’s no big deal. Steven opened his laptop and immediately went to the clubs YouTube channel. He would not pay for one of their videos. He scrolled through and selected the video titled “Edmond Dominates Benny the Twink.” He stopped himself. No, no. You’re not a faggot Steven. Stop this. Yes, you are. You’re just a muscle loving faggot who’ll never have any muscle of his own. No I’m not, I have a girlfriend. Yes, you are, she’s just a cover. No I’m not! Steven slammed the computer screen shut. “Goddammit,” Steven shouted as he bolted up from his desk. Pacing the room, he hummed to silence the voices making war in his head. Steven had just woken up but now he eyed his bed, contemplating it. Rest may help me. I’ll just close my eyes. He slid under the covers. In no time he was lost in sleep and a dream took him. Steven could not tell where he was, outside or in. A dry fog surrounded him and obscured the boundaries of his vision. Is it day or night? He lay on scarlet satin seats in black pajama bottom with no top. A roll of soft fat curled over the pajama’s waistband as he leaned up to further survey is surroundings. The bed was so large that the edges of it were lost in the fog. The thought to roll entered his mind and so he did it. He rolled and rolled like a child in the grass but stopped when he realized he would not reach the end. He peered deep into the fog. A shadow seemed to take form in the haze. It moved towards him, slowly. “Hello,” Steven called out. No reply. Still the shadow moved closer, growing larger and clearer. “Hello,” he called again. “Where am I? What is this place?” Again there was no reply. The figure was nearly upon him. It was clearly that of man, tall with broad shoulders. The fog seemed to part before him and Steven saw his face. It was Edmund Moreno. His chiseled jawline could have been carved from stone. Edmond stared at Steven with is light brown eyes. His lips formed a cocky smile. He wore a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt unbuttoned at the top. A gold band was on his ring finger. Steven looked at his own hand and found a matching gold band that he had not noticed before. His heart skipped a beat. Edmund’s arms stretched the fabric of the shirtsleeves. His brood chest pulled at the material around the buttons. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and pealed it off his massive frame, then slowly undid each button on the white shirt, working his way lower until he had revealed his washboard abs. Steven had grown completely hard. He pushed his boner down in shame but the iron hard cock was too rigid. It could not be tamed. The muscle god flexed his biceps and ripped open the shirtsleeves along the seam before throwing the shirt into the fog. He motioned to undo his belt and as he did so his meaty pecs bounced with ever movement of his arms. Steven was now jerking off furiously to quell his raging boner. Edmund lowered his pants revealing meaty, striated thighs, and an impressive cock. It was thick, veiny and clearly rock hard but it was so large it hung low and heavy under its own weight. Every part of him was impressive. Steven salivated and rose to his knees, still beating his meat. Suddenly Edmund lunged forward, stopping just short of forcing Steven back. His mammoth manhood knocked Steven in the face. It was more impressive up close, truly a beautiful sight. Steven took it into his mouth and began to suck. He sucked with passion and desire as if there was nothing else he wanted, only that cock, only that moment. He stopped stroking his own cock and concentrated solely on the Stud standing above him. Edmund grabbed Steven’s hair and pushed his head further onto his muscle god cock. Steven gagged. His eyes filled with tears of pleasure. The rhythmic throbs came all at once. Edmund blew a forceful load into Stevens mouth, filling it with thick, warm, salty spunk. He swallowed it all with gusto and squeezed every last drop from that cock. When he was through he looked up at the muscle stud. Steven asked, “Got any more?” As if in answer Edmond bent over and picked Steven up with no obvious show of effort. He turned Steven over and ripped of the pajama bottoms, revealing a pale white ass that contrasted sharply with his own tanned skin. Edmond spit on his cock. Steven’s cheeks were parted by the massive manhood and his asshole was stretched to its limits. Edmund began to pound his ass with ferocity. Steven moaned in pleasure with each thrust. “More, more,” Steven screamed. Edmund blew his second load filling Steven’s ass with his seed. “Don’t stop!” Steven was breathing heavily. He turned and Edmund was gone. He was alone again with nothing but satin sheets and fog. All at once he heard a voice beside him. “Did you enjoy that faggot?” He turned toward the voice and was staring himself in the face. “Did you enjoy that faggot?” the voice repeated in echo. Steven woke with a start. He lay in his bed covered in a cold sweat. His manhood was rock hard. A feeling of disgust filled him, disgusted with himself, with that dream, no, nightmare. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. I’m not a faggot. He repeated the mantra as he got out of bed to carry on with his day. Three: Aron He struggled to lift his packed suitcase from the trunk of his parent’s SUV. It weighed 50 pounds, half his weight. His father, Mr. Efren Ocampo, helped him. Efren was a man of slight build and medium height, the same height as his wife in fact, 5 foot 8 inches. Both were taller than their 5 foot 5 inch son. “Son, you take this one.” He handed Aron a smaller bag and took the larger one himself. “It looks like those people are welcoming Freshmen,” said Aron’s father as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Come on honey.” Mrs. Ocampo sauntered up to stand by her husband. She wore large black sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat. It was an oppressively hot August day with not a cloud in the sky. The family began to walk toward the welcoming committee. Aron hurried in front of his parents, his arm straining under the weight of the ‘light’ suitcase. God I’m so weak. He switched arms and kept a straight face, refusing to show weakness. The welcoming committee in this section of the campus consisted of three girls and three boys standing behind a long table under the shade of a blue picnic tent. The table was covered with boxes containing shirts, hoodies, mugs, pens, and notebooks, all with the University logo. “Hi!” A girl said, beaming, as Aron surveyed the table. She wore a yellow t-shirt that read “Welcome Freshman” and her name tag read “Alyssa”. “We’ve sure got a hot one for moving in don’t we? So tell me what dorm you’re in and I can direct you- what’s your name?” “Aron.” She extended her hand and Aron shook it. He used the opportunity to put his bag down and rest his arm. “I’m Alyssa.” “Hi, uh, Alyssa. I’m in Jefferson dorm.” “Go down that path, past a big tree, make a right at the statue, and keep going straight. You’ll hit Jefferson. You can’t miss it.” She gesticulated wildly as she spoke. Mrs. Ocampo leaned on the table once Alyssa was finished. “The dorm has air conditioning right? Please tell me it has air conditioning. When we came for orientation they only showed us the new dorms and they have air conditioning, but I wonder if they are hiding something.” Mrs. Ocampo pulled her sunglasses down and stared Alyssa square in the eyes. “Well I know they added air conditioning to all the dorms 5 yrs ago but sometimes in the older dorms like Jefferson it can be a little iffy.” “Fair enough.” Mrs. Ocampo replied. Aron and his family followed Alyssa’s directions and arrived at the Doors of Jefferson. All of them were sweating profusely. Aron looked up the mammoth structure. Jefferson stood five stories and was in the shape of a huge capital “H”. English ivy clung to a brick façade and well-pruned cedars framed the main entrance. Aron had read that the first floor was all boys, the second, all girls, and the last three were co-ed. His room was 312, a co-ed floor to further his illusion of heterosexuality. In Jefferson’s main hall the Residential Assistants handed out the room keys as well as a pamphlet of rules. “Stay cool,” said a male RA as he handed Aron his key. “All even numbered rooms are on the left.” Everyone’s so friendly. I’m going to like it here, Aron thought. The building had no elevators and by the time the family reached the third floor they were all exasperated from the combination of carrying luggage and the heat. Aron opened his room door and saw that his Roommate was already present and had claimed the left side of the room. He was a tall, athletically built and Chinese. Aron remembered his name was Jason Ho and thought he was kind of cute. After a quick introduction (very quick, Jason was not the talkative type) Aron unpacked his bags and the Ocampos left for Walmart to pick-up a few things Aron would need, storage containers, an alarm clock, laundry hamper, lamp, and a small television. With Aron’s room all set up the Ocampos enjoyed one final family meal at a local restaurant, though Aron would have been satisfied had they left immediately after returning from Walmart. “That Alyssa was pretty cute, huh?” Mr. Ocampo said as he cut into a medium rare steak. “I saw the way you looked at her.” Aron had looked at her funny because of her over the top hand gestures. “I think she’s an upperclassman dad.” Aron replied. He couldn’t believe his father was playing matchmaker on his first day in college. “So what. There’s nothing wrong with an older woman.” “Efren!” Mrs. Ocampo snapped. “He’ll be focusing on school his first year. Romance later.” “I was just messing with him honey.” After the meal Aron’s parents dropped him off on campus. His mother had tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Call once a week,” she said. “We’ll miss you.” “If you need any money just call son,” said his father “Have fun and we love you, and learn something.” He hugged and kissed his parents and watched them drive off. Free at last. Free at last. Aron wasted no time exploring the campus. He had seen very little of it on orientation day and was curious to see everything it had to offer. It covered 1200 acres and Aron intended to cover as much of it as possible before dark. He was relieved that clouds had rolled in after lunch causing the heat to subside some. Jefferson dorm overlooked the East campus dining hall. Aron found it drab. It looked like a restaurant that had not been redecorated since the 80s. Not much food was available since Aron had visited between meals, but the food that was available (pizza, chicken tenders, mixed vegetables, and French fries) looked edible enough. As Aron walked down the campus’ main path (called Scholar’s Way) toward the heart of the campus he took in the sights and sounds of college. Students played ultimate Frisbee in an open field. Girls sunned themselves on towels discussing their summers. Two shirtless guys jogged by him and he tried his hardest not to stair too long. A hipster played his guitar under an oak tree. Aron didn’t recognize the tune. It hit all at once. A rush through him down to his bones: the realization that he would be living there with thousands of other students for 3 ½ months (until winter break). New friends. New experiences. And he was ready. He stopped in the center of the path and looked up at the clock tower of the student union. It was 2:30pm and in that moment he vowed not to waste his time in college. He wasn’t going to live life through a computer screen in some dark room. He would have real experiences: a real life. His lips lifted into the largest goofiest smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled in earnest because he was happy and not just to cover his true feelings. He lowered his gaze from the clock tower and in an instant his smile was gone. In its place was an expression of shock. In the distance he saw a familiar shape. A hulking figure moved through the crowd. It couldn’t be. Could it? No. It couldn’t be him. Aron had to be sure. He ran through a crowd of students bumping into some. With rushed apologies, he pushed past them. His quarry was large, not easy to lose track of but Aron’s small stature meant that he could hardly see over other students. He had to be quick and luckily he was. The crowd grew thick the closer he got to the heart of the campus, the food court in the student union. Aron followed his quarry into the food court. He had heard they served much better food than the dining halls and the large crowd seemed to support this. There were several students taller than the one he was following but none wider or more thickly muscled. He wore a red tank top and white shorts with sandals. red certainly is his color. The food court was arranged in two sections. First a semi-circle with various eateries crammed side by side: a taco place, a bakery, a sub shop, a Chinese place, a smoothie stand, and a pizzeria. The second was a rectangular hall with tables of various sizes. His quarry stood in line at the sub shop and Aron positioned himself in line at the taco place, close enough to see him but far enough away not to be noticed. His heart raced as he looked to catch a glimpse of his face. Mocha skin and a well-trimmed beard. He had all the features. It was Brendon Lane. If Brendon goes to this school then the whole Muscle Gut Club must go here as well. Aron felt faint. He left his line without buying anything and made his way to the tables, choosing a seat in the corner that was obscured buy a support column. He felt like a creeper as he watched Brendon get his food with fascination. Apparently the appetite he displayed in his videos was not for show. He ordered two 12 inch sub sandwiches, and a giant size chocolate chip cookie from the sub shop, as well as a milkshake from the shake stand (apparently they offer to add protein powder to your shakes for an extra dollar, an option Brendon took). Brendon sat at a table by himself just within Aron’s sights. He ate with gusto and consumed all of the food within 10 minutes. Aron timed him. When Brendon rose he rubbed his distended muscle gut and smiled before exiting the food court. Aron had a choice to make, follow or not. It had long been Aron’s fantasy to meet the members of the muscle gut club. Now he had that opportunity. Should I take it? He masturbated himself raw to them. He had seen them all naked. What would I say to them? Hey, I like your cock. No. He knew he would probably be speechless, but still… I have to try. Aron rose and ran from the food court. He caught site of Brendon in the distance. Taking a deep breath, he set off behind him. Exploring the rest of the campus would have to wait. Four: Brendon He pushed the weight up with little effort for the fifteenth time. 250 pounds was just a warm up for him now, but two years ago as an 18-year-old freshman it would have been a struggle. At 18 he had been working out for 3 years (seriously for only half that time) and had developed a lean aesthetic physique that could have been the envy of any fitness model. He liked his abs. He liked his striations but he liked seeing the weigh on the bar go up even more. That year something in him clicked and strength not aesthetics became his main goal. Now he lay on the bench in the Muscle Gut Club’s private gym a stronger more robust version of his 18-year-old self. In two years he had grown 2 inches in height and gained 50 pounds. At 6 foot 3 inches and 230 pounds he had no abs but he didn’t care. He was stronger than he’d ever been and only wanted to grow in strength. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He was on a forever bulk. Brendon stood up from the bench. He wore a blue stinger that covered so little of his upper body that he might as well have been shirtless, and black compression shorts that could hardly contain his squat-grown ass. He picked up two 25 pound plates like they weighed nothing and added them to the 250 pounds already on the bar. He proceeded to bench the weight. One rep. Two reps…by the Tenth rep he was breathing heavy, but he managed to crank out two more reps before racking the 300 pounds with a loud clang. Still too light. His cock stirred at the thought. If he could do more than eight reps of a weight he knew he had to go heavier. After a three-minute rest and a drink of BCAAs he added a 10-pound weight and a 2.5-pound weight to each side. The bar now weighed 325 pounds and after a deep breath he lifted the bar. His arms shook slightly but he managed five reps with perfect form. He racked the weight and sat up slowly. Beads of sweat formed on his temples and trickled down the side of his face. His pecs were pumped full with blood (as was his cock). He rubbed them and bounced them, enjoying the sight of himself in the mirror. “Having fun?” A voice interrupted his self-muscle worship session. Daniel Hogan stood at the door with a cheeky grin. “Lifting heavy without a spotter again. You’re asking to get hurt.” Daniel moved closer to him. “I’m not pushing myself too hard.” Brendon said. “You should be if you’re gonna beat me at the meet” Daniel flexed his arms as he spoke. Brendon laughed then said, “First you’ll have to get up to my weight class and I warn you I’ll be heavier by the end of the year.” At 6 foot 1 inch and 215 pound Daniel did not have far to go. “I hadn’t planned on competing in your weight class.” Daniel looked at himself in the mirror before picking up two 60 pound dumbbells and curling them. “Aah, you’re too scared to compete head to head so you plan to dominate in a lower weight class. But tell me how’s our bet going to work. I thought the person who beats the other has to pay $500-” Daniel interrupted him. “No, my idea was the one who wins their weight class pays the other $500. Brendon shook his head and smiled. “Tell me Dan,” Brendon began, “What happens if we both win in our weight classes, or we both loose.” Daniel stopped curling and looked his friend dead in the eyes for a second. He pushed his lower lip out, squeezed his eyebrows together and moved his eyes rapidly from side to side as he always did when deep in thought. “Well I guess of we both win or lose then there’s no bet then is there?” “Guess not,” said Brendon, laying down on the bench. He didn’t really care about the bet. “Since you’re here and so worried about my safety, spot me on my pr.” “That’s a personal record for you?” Daniel pointed at the bar. “That only 325.” “No, you’re gonna make yourself useful and add 50 pounds to it. Thanks” “You’re fucking annoying,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I know.” When the weight was set Brendon took several deep breaths and grabbed the bar. Daniel placed his hands under the bar. “You got this man, light weight, light weight,” he said. Brendon lifted it with a deep grunt. Every muscle in his upper body tensed. He lowered the weight slowly to within one inch of his chest. When the time came to raise it he stalled. Don’t let the weight beat you. Beat it. Daniel began to apply upward pressure on the bar, but Brendon frowned at him and he immediately let loose keeping his hands a half inch under the bar. Slowly Brandon began to raise the 375 lbs. He flared his teeth and half way up stalled once more. Daniel touched the bar again. “No help” grunted Brendon. “Dude you’re going to pop something.” “No help!” He raised the bar further. Yes. Bigger. Stronger. Better. He completed the rep with a howl. Daniel cheered. After racking the weight Brendon sprung up from the bench. Daniel grabbed his arm and shook him. “375 fucking pounds man.” Brendon grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Who’s the man? Haha.” His head was in the clouds. He had hit a new personal record: The heaviest in the club. He peeled off his stringer and began to flex in the mirror. Daniel joined in. “That got me hungry.” Said Brendon “You’re always hungry.” Replied Dan That was true and he knew it. He was a bottomless pit, hungry for size and power, and he fed his appetite whenever he had the chance. “Want to get something to eat?” Brendon asked. “Nah, I just ate a pizza.” Dan rubbed his slightly distended muscle gut. “Ok. Peace, I’m out.” Brendon left the gym shirtless, carrying his stringer in his hand. He could feel Daniel’s eyes watching him as he left. No doubt he was ‘miring. Brendon had already eaten 6 scrambled eggs, 4 slices of bacon, 4 pieces of toast, and 2 bananas for breakfast, as well as a gainer shake just before his bench pressing session, but that didn’t stop him from stuffing himself at lunch. He ate two whole subs, an oversized cookie, and a milkshake in the student Union food court. On an average day he could consume 6000 calories and he certainly needed them. He lifted weights 6 days a week in the morning, focusing on a major lift or body part each time. 4 days a week in the afternoons he performed strong man style lifts for 2 hours: moving logs, farmer’s carries, tire lifts, atlas stones and the like. Today was one of those days. He decided to go home and take a nap to sleep off the meal. Then he would have another shake before heading to the Strong Man Center downtown. As he walked away from the Student Union, he felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned to find a short thin boy looking up at him. The little fellow had peanut color skin, almond shaped eyes, and black hair. He appeared to have some Asian origin. A freshman no doubt, lost. “Yeah. Can I help you?” The little fellow looked away when he caught Brendon’s gaze, then in an instant his eyes darted back to meet Brendon’s. He seemed nervous. “I…uh…my name is…I just want-” Brendon was growing impatient. “Are you lost?” he asked, uninterested. “No.” “Need help finding something?” “No.” There was a moment of silence. Jesus. What’s wrong with him? “Well it was nice meeting you,” Brendon said, sardonic. “But I got places to be.” “I like your videos!” The little guy blurted it out suddenly as Brendon turned away, louder than necessary, and so quickly the words blended together. “What?” Brendon raised his eye brows. “The, uh, Muscle Gut Club videos. I really like them, like… a lot.” The little fellow lowered his eyes to the ground as if he had admitted to grave sin and was now ashamed of himself. Brendon looked him over for a minute, before bursting out in laughter. He placed a large hand on the little guy’s shoulder and patted him so hard his frail body nearly keeled over. “Sorry about that, little guy, sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” Brendon had a huge grin on his face. “Why didn’t you just open with that? I love meeting fans. It doesn’t happen too often. Most of them live too far away and it’s not like we give out our address since a lot of them are creepers if you know what I man.” The little guy managed an awkward smile. He looked relieved. “Kid, you looked like you were worried I’d eat you, haha.” And I probably could if I was hungry enough and you were the only thing around. “So what’s your name?” Brendon continued. “Aron Ocampo.” “So if you want a private muscle video its $50 for half an hour, $100 if you want me to get naked.” “Actually I just want to meet the whole club,” said Aron. “I love big guys and it would be an honor to serve you all. I would work for you all and my only payment would be the pleasure of being around all that muscle. I know it might sound lame and if you want just say no.” Aron lowered his eyes once more. Brendon could hardly believe it. The club had a house boy the previous year, Jason Meed, but after being inspired by the club he traded in his twink physique and submissive personality for a muscle bod and dominant cocky bravado. He soon clashed with the club and had to go. Now a new one had fallen into his lamp. He was cute enough, seemed submissive enough, and he clearly loved muscle. What more can I ask for? “It’s not lame at all,” Brendon said squeezing Aron’s bony shoulder. “Say, how tall are you and your weight?” “I’m 5, 3, 101 pounds.” Brendon tried to contain his inner joy. The Perfect size for lift and carry videos. “Give me your number. I’ll call you when the club is ready to meet.” When Brendon was finished putting the number in his phone he shook Aron’s hand, perhaps squeezing it a little too firmly considering the little guy’s grimace. The two parted ways and both were smiling as they did so. Five: Aron He sat in his dorm room, half present and half absent. His body was there, yes, but his mind was elsewhere. Brendon had said he would call when the Muscle Gut Club was ready to meet him. The first day he waited with excitement hoping he would get the call that night. It didn’t come. The next day his phone rang and his heart skipped a beat. To his dismay, it was only his mother checking in. The third day classes started and he had to walk from one end of the campus to the other to reach them all. He hoped in doing so that he would run into Brendon again or some other member of the club. No such luck. Now as he absentmindedly stared at his computer screen he wondered Did the club not want to meet me? Was Brendon just toying with me? It hurt to think about it. His roommate, Jason Ho, sat in the room as well, earphones on and head in a calculus book. Aron had learned very little about him in the past few days, aside from the fact that he was a Biology major from upstate New York who was crazy about some band he had never heard of. He had eaten with Jason once and after getting no more than three sentences out of him decided he was better off eating his meals alone. Jason didn’t mind. Aron heard a knock on the door. He turned to answer, but Jason leapt from his bed and beat him to it. Four Chinese looking students, 2 boys and 2 girls entered into the room. Hugs were shared, kisses given, and hands shook as Aron watched. They spoke to Aron briefly and he was given a barrage of names he would never remember. He caught them mention a restaurant and within two minutes they were gone, leaving Aron alone. He had several options. He could study, continue surfing the web, go for an evening walk, or masturbate. Truthfully he wanted to do none of it. He had no test to study for and unlike his roommate he was not the type to read a textbook without a reason, though he knew he should. The web had started to bore him. He could only stand so many Facebook posts, forum threads, and funny videos. He had done enough walking to get to class earlier that day. That left masturbation. Masturbation was his old standby. His favorite pastime. It was a stress reliever and form of cardio. In the past year he had only masturbated to Muscle Gut Club videos. It was an obsession. He would do it now but after meeting Brendon and knowing they were so close to him he only wanted the real thing. A video wouldn’t do. He walked over to his bed, removed his shoes and laid down. As soon as he closed his eyes his phone rang. Aron jumped from the bed so fast he nearly fell over. He ran over to his desk and answered. “Hello, Aron, it’s Brendon. When’s your next day off?” “I have no classes Thursday.” He tried his best not to let the excitement show in his voice. “Perfect. The club wants to meet you. Come by at Noon. I’ll text you the directions.” “Ok, great. Thank you Brendon.” “No, thank you,” Brendon said before hanging up. Aron hardly slept that night. Instead he thought of what he would say to the club members and what he would do. The next day he couldn’t concentrate on his classes. His mind raced from thought to thought. What if I say the wrong thing? What if they don’t like me? God, I hope they like me. On Thursday at 11:30 am Aron set off on his journey. He was happy and nervous, so nervous he ate nothing that morning. He only drank a glass of orange juice. The club lived at 43 Stone Street on the other side of town. Luckily between the Campus run buses and the city buses there were trips to and from that part of town every half hour. He took one of the campus buses which were painted an obnoxiously bright blue. It was packed with students heading to off campus housing or going shopping. Aron couldn’t find a seat so he stood in the middle making awkward eye contact with the bus driver in his rearview mirror. His short arms just barely reached the overhead pole. On sharp turns he bumped into the students next to him despite trying his hardest to stay steady. He just didn’t have the weight for it. When he reached his stop he took a breath of relief. He felt like he was being released from a tin of sardines. The ride had only lasted 10 minutes but it felt like it had been one hour. There were no bus stops on Stone street so he had to walk the rest of the way. He took note of how nice the neighborhood was, not rich nice (He grew up in a neighborhood like that), but middle-class nice. Most students who lived off campus rented places in the poorer part of town. The Muscle Gut Club must be doing very well for themselves. At 11:54 he walked up to the front door at 43 Stone Street. It was a white shingled, 2 story Dutch colonial with a yard enclosed by high hedges and a fence. Aron motioned to ring the doorbell but paused momentarily. Nerves again. Surprisingly the door opened. Brendon stood in the frame filling it with his size. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of black nylon shorts, his muscle gut in plain view. His arms stood out from his sides at an angle, lifted up by his well-developed lats. “No, I’m not psychic. I saw you walking up.” Brendon said with a smile. “Come on in and meet the guys.” Aron took one step in the door and was hit with the strongest odor of male musk he could imagine. It smelled of pure masculinity. He stood still, briefly overcome with arousal. “Any day now,” Brendon called from another room. Aron quickly ran toward the sound of the voice, nearly tripping over his feet. When he entered the room he froze like a deer in headlights. All four members of the club sat in the room on two couches staring directly at him. Edmond was wearing only a pair of red boxer briefs stretched to the limits by his massive quads and by his mammoth manhood. He was looking exceptionally lean. Aron wanted to leap forward and place his hands all over his deeply cut cobblestone abs, but he maintained his composure. Thomas wore a white wife beater and black briefs. His fitness model physique, while the smallest of the four, was as impressive as they come. His shoulders and chest were unbelievably developed. His waist formed a perfect v-taper. Aron swooned at his Adonis belt and at the sight of his large, masculine Adam’s apple. Daniel was seated closest to Aron. He was shirtless and wore only a pair of grey pajama bottoms. He was almost as big as Brendon and the palest of the bunch. His muscles were clearly well defined even if he wasn’t very lean. Daniels hairy chest and rugged beard gave him a sexy lumberjack appeal. Aron couldn’t believe this was finally happening. As he looked around the room all he could manage to say was a shy “hi”. “Guys, this is obviously the Freshman I was telling you about, Aron Ocampo.” Brendon said. “He’s kind of cute like you said,” Thomas looked from Aron to Brandon. “In a mousey way.” The other members nodded. “He looks kind of frail, though.” Edmund said with an apprehensive look. “You’re not sick are you?” “No!” Aron replied, shaking his head. “Sir.” He added. The members snickered and shared glances with each other. “Sir? Haha. What a polite little twink.” Said Edmond. “I like him already.” It was the first time Aron had been called a twink by someone. Edmond stood up and walked over to him. He towered over Aron and got so close that the little twink could smell his masculine scent. It smelled good. Without warning Edmond picked him up. “God he’s so light.” He exclaimed. Edmond turned him on his side and began curling him with next to no effort at all. Up and down, up and down Aron went, 15 times. Then Edmond proceeded to press him overhead 10 times. Aron was in heaven. Daniel stood up. “Let me have a go at him.” “He’ll be nothing for you,” Edmund said as he handed him over. Daniel pressed him overhead several times and then lowered one of his arms, holding Aron overhead one handed. He walked over to Brendon (Still with Aron overhead) and said, “You got a real small one this time.” Brendon stood up and took Aron from Daniel and placed him on the ground as easily as if he were a doll. Aron was now surrounded by a triangle of shirtless muscle gods all towering over him. Thomas sat on the couch smiling. “Don’t mind them Aron, they just like showing off how strong they are.” “Someone get the measuring tape,” said Edmond. Brendon left and within an instant he was back with the measuring tape. “Strip.” Edmond commanded Aron. Aron did as he ordered, not wanting to displease the muscle god. He stood before them in his size small white briefs. They began to measure him all over, gaping, and snickering. “Wow only 11 inch arms, my 12-year-old brother has arms bigger than that,” said Edmond. “Holy shit my arms are as big as his thighs,” said Daniel. This humiliation would have sent Aron crying anywhere else, but from these muscle gods it was a turn on. His little cock stiffened as the muscle gut club poked, prodded, and studied his boney body. “Hey look, he’s getting hard.” Thomas pointed. “Pull down your underwear,” Edmund ordered. Aron again obeyed. Edmond took the measuring tape and held it next to Aron’s little cock. “Five inches and fully hard,” he said, looking around at the club. Edmund whipped his mammoth member from his boxer briefs and held It next to Aron’s “Twice as thick and twice as long.” He smiled with pride. “Let’s face it, though, comparing your cock to an average man’s wouldn’t even be fair, much less to that.” Daniel said as he pointed to Aron’s. “You can lift your underwear,” Brendon said. There was a touch of sympathy in his voice. He must not realize I love it. Every minute of it. “I really don’t care about his cock size. You’ll be fucking him, not the other way around,” Daniel said, “And I really don’t care about his looks since people watch our videos for our looks not the Twink’s.” “Is there a point here?” Edmond asked. “My point is. You say he wants to serve us.” He looked at Brendon. “Well that’s what I’m interested in. Will he be good at his job?” He turned back to Aron. Now was the moment Aron had been waiting for. He had been thinking about what he would say for day and finally he was ready to say it. “I’m gay,” Aron began, “and I love muscle men more than anything in the whole world. I’ve watched all of your YouTube videos an even bought some of your XXX videos. I masturbate to you. I dream about you. I’ve always wanted to meet you. I know I’ll never have muscles like yours. I know I’ll never be able to compare to gods like you, but all I ask is the chance to be around you, to serve, to bask in the presence of your massive frames.” “I will serve you with devotion and without question. I can cook and I will cook huge protein rich meals for you to fuel your growth. I will do your laundry and clean your rooms. If your tense after a workout, I’ll massage you. I’ll wipe the sweat from your brow. If your horny you can fuck me or if you just want a blowjob just say the word. I’ll wear whatever you want me to while in the house. I will truly be your slave and you will be my muscle masters.” Thomas’ mouth was agape. Edmund had a devious smile across his face. Brendon looked flabbergasted. Daniel simply clapped. He looked genuinely impressed by the speech. “Did you have that planned or was it off the top of your head?” asked Brendon. “Uh, kinda planned,” replied Aron, scratching his head. “Get on your knees.” Commanded Edmund. Aron did so. The members of the club got up and formed a semi-circle around him, staring down at him. “Kiss our feet.” Edmund ordered. Aron gently kissed each of their feet. “That’s so a slave remembers his place.” Edmund said. “At our feet.” Said Brendon, cutting in. “Rise,” said Edmond. Aron did so as each of the members struck a front double bicep pose. “Now kiss our biceps.” Aron kissed each of their biceps. “That’s so a slave remembers why he serves,” Edmund said. “He serves because of these muscles,” Brendon said, again finishing Edmund’s statement. “You start Saturday,” said Brendon. “Be here at 9 am to start breakfast. Here’s a key, and bring some stuff to cook us dinner. You won’t have time to go shopping after you get here. You’ll be very busy.” He grinned. Aron dressed. The club said their ‘until next times’ and he left for the 1:30 pm bus. He couldn’t wait for Saturday. Six: Edmund Edmund Moreno stood in his bathroom flexing in the mirror. He squeezed his muscles tight and hit every major bodybuilding pose like he was standing on stage at the Olympia. He imagined the crowd cheering him and admiring his perfect physique. I can’t believe I came in 3rd at the Junior Classics last week. I had the best conditioning on stage and the best symmetry. He had stepped on stage at the Classics weighing in at 195 pounds of lean hard muscle and standing 6 foot 1 inch, but he wasn’t the biggest. The 1st and 2nd place winners outweighed him by 15 pounds and that gave them the edge. Next time I’ll be fucking huge. He felt a hand touch his shoulder. His girlfriend, Bianca Bui, had creeped up behind him and began squeezing his muscles as he flexed. She loved his muscles. “Having fun?” she asked. “Seeing what I need to work on. I could bring my traps up and my lats-” “You look perfect to me babe.” “Well, the judges didn’t think so,” Edmund frowned slightly. “I have a better physique than anyone on campus, but that won’t win the competition. I need to be better than anyone in the state.” He bent down and kissed Bianca on the lips. She was of Vietnamese decent, 5 foot 5 inches, and 119 pounds with the perfect female figure. She wore pink silk pajama bottoms and a white tank top. “I guess you’ll be going on a big bulk.” She said. “The biggest I’ve done yet. I plan on putting on at least 35 or 40 pounds before cutting.” “Then you won’t be doing much cardio…” She pouted jokingly. Edmund laughed. “I’ll always have time for cardio.” He pulled down his boxers revealing his manhood. “I’ll just have to eat a big breakfast after to make up for all the calories I burn. Edmond pulled off her top and cupped her firm breasts. She giggled and removed her pajama bottoms. Edmund kissed her neck while slowly pushing down her panties. He lifted her up and placed her easily on his cock. She moaned with pleasure as he pressed her against the bathroom wall with his muscular chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and took in her flowery scent. “Carry me to bed.” She said between moans. He grabbed her supple legs and she placed her arms around his thick neck, his manhood penetrating her deeply. They fell together on the bed. Edmund moved in her wet pussy with slow steady strokes. She grabbed his horse shoe triceps and clawed at him as he began to pound her harder and faster. Her moans of pleasure grew louder as she began to orgasm. “Yes! Baby! Yes!” she screamed. “You like how daddy fucks you?” “Oh yes!” Just as Ed was about to reach climax he pulled out a blew his load on her face. She began to lap up his warm, creamy, salty spunk. They lay next to each other covered in sweat. Ed’s muscles glistened in the morning light that streamed in from the bedroom window. “Good cardio,” said Edmund. Bianca laughed. “Very good. I’ll go make you that big breakfast,” she said while wiping cum from around her eyes. “Can you walk to the kitchen?” Edmund snickered. She rolled her yes. “I’m used to it.” She got up and walked out of the room with a slight limp. It’s hard to get used to a 9 inch cock. He patted his manhood as he lay on the bed and relaxed. He didn’t know who he liked fucking more: men or women. Really he would fuck anyone as long as he liked the way they looked. He had fucked average guys, muscle guys, twinks, skinny girls, chubby girls, Black, White, Latin, and Asian. Any warm hole for his cock. He had only had two serious relationships, though. One with a guy over a year and a half ago and the one with Bianca. Bianca had walked up to him one night in a bar and asked to feel his arm. Ever one to show off, he struck a front double bicep pose for her. She gawked at his size, and he was smaller then than he was now. She confided in him that she had never been with a bodybuilder before. They fucked that night and had been Fucking ever since. She liked muscle and she liked cooking. Two things that made her perfect for Edmund and the club. Several times a month she would cook for the whole club, but she only had desires for Edmund. She didn’t even have a problem with his bisexuality telling him “I don’t mind if you fuck guys every now and then to satisfy the urge so long as you use protection and I’m the only woman.” Edmond could smell the scent of food wafting from the kitchen. He rose out of bed and put on a pair of boxers. As he entered the kitchen Bianca turned to him. She was topless, wearing only her panties. She often walked around topless when she knew the other club members were out. Thomas was at a photo shoot and Daniel and Brendon were in class. They’d be gone most of the day. “I was just about to call you,” Said Bianca. “Smells good,” Ed said as he sat down at the kitchen table. Bianca began to serve him his breakfast. First she sat a down a six egg cheese omelet with 2 turkey sausage links. Edmond dove in with his fork like he hadn’t eaten in days. While he chewed on eggs and sausage she placed a plate of 3 whole wheat French toasts with whipped cream and berries and a bowl of Greek yogurt and granola in front of him. He wasted no time attacking that a well. She ate two scrambled eggs a piece of toast and a banana. “This is great babe.” Ed managed to say between bites and mmms. Bianca beamed with pride. She loved seeing a man enjoy her cooking. When Ed was done eating he washed the meal down with a tall glass of whole milk. He patted his distended belly. The food baby pushing out his abs made it look like he had a tortoise shell for a stomach. “I won’t be over here much in the next week Eddy Bear,” Said Bianca. “Huh, why?” Ed let out a loud belch. “I’ve got a huge test coming up that I need to study for. When I’m not in class I’ll be studying at my place. Here I might be too distracted.” Her gaze left his face and moved down to his muscles. “Already,” Said Edmond, “School just started back.” “Pre-med,” she said, shaking her head. “It might just kill me.” “With the money you’ll be making I guess the hard work will be worth it,” Edmund said. “After I pay off the student loans.” Bianca stood up and cleared the dishes. She started to wash them. “Don’t,” said Edmund. “You’re gonna wash them?” she looked apprehensive. “We’re going to be breaking in a new house boy on Saturday and I want to make sure he has a lot of work to do.” Bianca stopped, and stared at him. “Is he cute.” “I think so.” Edmund smiled. “He’s smaller than you.” “No way.” She looked surprised. Edmond laughed. “What’s his name?” “Aron Ocampo” “Will you fuck him?” Edmunds face was now serious. “Probably, but I haven’t forgotten our deal. You’re the only one for me baby.” He got up and pecked her on the lips. She looked up at him and seemed satisfied. “Don’t work him too hard baby,” said Bianca. “We’ve got to see what he’s made of. Make sure he’s really a submissive.” Bianca showered and changed into her clothes. Before leaving she informed him that she had fixed his protein shake and put it in the fridge for him to drink later They parted with one final kiss. Edmund put on his workout shorts and headed to the garage gym for a heavy shoulder session. Truthfully, he was glad Bianca would be gone for a week. He wanted to use that time to get to know Aron better. Much better. He hoisted up two 65-pound dumbbells and began to shoulder press them. With each rep he could feel his muscles becoming pumped. He concentrated on the muscle contraction as he watched himself in the mirror. In his mind he wasn’t lifting weights. He was lifting the twink, Aron, over his head again and again. His cock grew hard at the thought of Aron’s frail thin body next to his own robust hulking frame. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. More to come...
  16. Here now is a re-telling of an old archive favorite, Changed and molded to be my own take on the original story - "Travis Joins the Polo club." DISCLAIMER: all parties in this story are University Students who are OF AGE. Let there be no confusion on that. It is established here and now - and on the first page of the comic. I will probably post further updates here - But if you’d like access to the full story and more behind the scenes - concider stopping by my patreon at www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle and pledging to support this artwork.
  17. londonboy

    The Freshman Forty (Parts 1 and 2)

    “Bro, I’m home for the summer,” the text from Max said on my screen. “I need to chill tonight. My parents are already driving me crazy. Up for some company?” “Sure,” I wrote back, thinking about how it had been over nine months since we had seen each other. “The dungeon at five?” “Perfect. I’m going to need some food, though. I eat all the time. Gained some weight at school,” he shot back. “Didn’t we all! I think they call it ‘The Freshman Fifteen.’ Mine was caused by beer. We can order pizza. My parents are gone for the weekend,” I typed back. “Sweet. See you five-ish,” Max replied. I went down to the basement – otherwise known as the dungeon – to make sure it was suitable for hanging out. I’m sure it hadn’t been used since I had left for college. To my surprise, I found out my mom had clearly been cleaning it. There was a big screen for playing video games, a set of weights in the corner, some mats on the floor for rough-housing, and a couple of beat-up sofas for laying around. To my joyful surprise, there were also beers in the fridge – my parents having realized that Max and I were now responsible enough to drink. When it got close to five, I threw some popcorn in the microwave, so we’d have something to eat right away. It would be good to catch up with my best friend. “Yo! Bonehead! Where are you?” yelled Max from somewhere upstairs in the house. “In the dungeon. Get your wimpy little ass down here. Popcorn is ready,” I yelled back and I heard Max bouncing down the steps and I turned to greet him. “Holy hell, Max, what happened to you?” I had looked over expecting to see the dweeby body of my best friend since second grade, but what greeted me was something totally different. It was still the childlike face of Max – with the pouty lips and sultry dark eyes, but the body now looked like he had been through the same body enhancement program as Captain America. My best friend was wearing a gray, threadbare, Matrix t-shirt that hugged new contours and bulges that had not been there nine months ago. It was like someone had supersized Max. “The Freshman Forty,” he replied, smiling. “I wondered if you’d notice.” “Notice! How could I not? Damn, man . . . most freshmen just gain a lot around the gut from being lazy and drinking a lot. You look like you’re the Hulk but you’re only angry enough to bulge into some kind of young bodybuilder. Wait! Did you say Freshman Forty? Are you telling me you’ve gained forty pounds in just nine months,” I exclaimed, unable to process what he had said. “Yep, actually forty-two pounds of hard-earned, college boy muscle, dude. I kind of went crazy at the gym at school. I went down on a whim one day and found out that I really liked the way hitting the weights and machines made me feel. I loved the pump, dude. And soon, my clothes started getting really tight and that just made me more of a wild man than I already was. Then, people started to comment about how swole I was getting . . . and people even asked to feel my arms and stuff. I found out quickly that being groped by some adoring fan was boner heaven for me. From that moment on, all I could think about was getting bigger, man. I started doing an early morning workout and an early evening workout. And then this guy introduced me to protein shakes and that’s when the growth really took off. Fuck dude, I just gotta show you all the improvements,” Max said, as he pulled off his t-shirt in one quick move. I gasped out loud and fell back onto the sofa . . . like someone had just shoved me really hard. My dweeby friend, Max, from down the road now had pecs that ballooned out hard, beefy, and muscular. He had abs that could be seen and counted! It was like his stomach had turned into a brick wall. And his fucking arms were all veiny and huge – making him look like he could lift me and the sofa without any problem. I suddenly realized I was harder than shit in my jeans and my face shot red with embarrassment. “You’re like a young Arnold Schwarzenegger, dude! You know . . . before he moved to the States, when he was still just hanging out in the Alps. You’re fucking huge, Max!” I said, unable to control myself – I was completely in awe of my friend. “Oh, hell yeah, dude. I knew you’d be into it. I’ve been thinking about how it would be when I finally got to show you my new size. And I’m fucking still growing, man. Two pounds of muscle in the last week and a half. I’m going to get these arms up to twenty inches before the summer’s out!” Max said, tensing his entire body as he spoke and then he threw his right arm up into a flex. “Look at that, man. It’s already eighteen and a half.” My mouth dropped open wide as I let out a uncontrollable moan. I could feel myself leaking a little from the sight of his jacked up, humongous biceps. It was magnificent. Max was staring at it, too, and I could tell he was into that mound of peaked muscle as much as I was. I glanced down and saw the outline of a thick, huge, hard beef-stick pressing against his pants. My best friend was getting off on his own arm and I didn’t think there could be anything hotter in the entire world. “Being fucking jacked, man, makes me so horny all the time. I’m busting out three or four loads a day, just from flexing or staring at myself in the mirror. I sometimes cum when I’m lifting . . . the weights rattling as I shake from the explosion. But I keep pushing the weight into the air, man, I don’t stop. Ejaculations seem to fuel my workouts and I grow even more during those sessions. The school’s wrestling coach keeps begging me to join the team, but I keep telling him no. I’m not interested in competing, dude. I just want to keep growing. It’s like I can’t get enough muscle . . . ever. I just want to be fucking huge,” Max bellowed, as he flexed his arm even harder, making the peak swell up higher. “Your body’s so fucking hot, Max,” I said through heavy breaths. Max dropped his arm and looked down at me. He looked like some living Greek statue standing there, all pumped and huge. He didn’t say a word. He just stared at me, as if he were processing something. He made his pecs roll up and down, watching my gaze following them the entire time. It was like he was teasing me or giving me some kind of test. He then crunched his abs, hard, and watched as my eyes got wider. He reached down and undid the button on his jeans and pulled them open a little. “Protein shakes seem to have enhanced other parts of me, too, dude,” he said, his voice dripping in sexiness. “I noticed,” I replied, licking my lips to let him know of my approval. “Come punch my stomach, dude,” Max ordered. “What?” I asked, not sure if I heard right. “I haven’t just gotten big, man. I’ve gotten powerful, too. I’ve got the strength to match the muscles. Punch me. I love hearing a guy’s fist smack up against my tight abs,” Max replied. “Something tells me you’ll like it, too.” I could feel the wetness at my crotch – copious amounts of pre were flowing in response to Max’s jacked body . . . and his cocky attitude. I remembered when he was a scrawny kid wearing Spiderman briefs when he came for sleepovers. Now, he was packed with more muscles than Peter Parker. He squared his newly broad shoulders as he turned his body completely towards me. It seemed like the temperature in the basement had gone up about twenty degrees since Max had taken off his shirt. I was sure his thick body could produce that kind of heat. My best friend had clearly gotten tired of waiting for me to move. He stepped over to the sofa, bent down, grabbed the front my shirt and easily pulled me up to a standing position. He then let go and stepped back, again. “Punch hard, dude,” Max said. “You can’t do any damage. Watch your fingers, though. We don’t want you getting hurt.” “This is like a dream, bro,” I said, softly. “Does this feel like a dream,” Max said, grabbing my hand and placing it against the hot, hard flesh of his cement-like, bubbled abs. “Oh fuck . . . it’s like a concrete wall,” I said, without thinking – I was just responding to his chiseled body and the quickly jerked my hand back in shock. “Oh, bro, that so fucking turns me on . . . you saying that. I sometimes crank out five hundred sit ups, just to make my abs poke out super hard even while they’re in pain. Watch this, man.” Max balled his hand into a fist and then swung it out and slammed it back into stomach, quickly. It all happened so fast, I wasn’t prepared for it. The loud smack caused by his abs absorbing the punch made me jump. Max did it three more times – his fist flying as fast as lighting. Each loud smack echoed against the basement walls. His tight stomach had red marks all over it, but those abs were clearly hard-as-hell and he hadn’t felt a thing. There was a half-grin across Max’s face. He had noticed me jumping every time his fist hit his stomach. He had clearly liked my reaction. “Your turn. Don’t you want to see what kind of abuse my muscles can take, dude? Don’t you want to feel my abs stand up to you hitting me with all your might? Don’t you want to experience my power?” Max asked, knowing his words were making my balls ache. My mouth went dry. I felt a little light-headed, and my cock hurt like hell from needing to spew, but I wasn’t ready to explode. I knew Max wanted me to wait, too. He was putting on a show I’d never forget and I was enjoying the ride. I calmed myself, spread my legs into a wider stance for stability, balled my fingers into a fist, drew my arm back, and then let it fly into his stomach with all my might. My wrist kind of compacted in on itself and sent a jarring pain up my arm as my knuckles made contact with Max’s unyielding, brick wall of a stomach. The sound of my fist hitting his abs was even louder than his punches had been. I couldn’t believe how easily my powerful punch had been stopped. I immediately had to shake out my hand and arm to ease some of the pain. Max’s grin got bigger. “Freaking powerful punch, dude, but I didn’t feel a thing. Damn, watching your fist fly into my stomach and it not really registering at all gets me so fucking worked up, dude. And it makes me feel so incredibly jacked! Sorry about your hand, dude. It’s going to hurt for a while, I’m sure. Go ahead, take another feel of my rock-hard abs, dude. I know you want to,” Max said, smiling at me. I didn’t even need to think about it. I reached out with both hands – even the one still in major pain – and started feeling the guy’s mid-section like my life depended on it. It felt like he had lead pipes pushing out from under his skin – hard rows of muscle expanding with each breath. It didn’t feel human – the steel-plated belly of this soon-to-be twenty-one year old who used to complain that he could never beat me in an arm wrestling match. Now he was taking full-on power punches from me like they were nothing more than whacks from feather pillows. My hands were shaking with excitement. “Get ready, dude, I’m going to make it even harder. I’m going to blow your mind,” Max said, and then he bent his arms, leaning forward, and crunching his stomach intensely. “Fuck man! Your abs feel like steel,” I exclaimed – letting my fingers ripple down the firm, bulging ridges. “I’m going to have an eight-pack before we go back to college, dude. I’m going to need you to pound on these things once or twice a day this summer, just to keep me motivated. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some boxing gloves. We’ve got to protect those delicate hands of yours. Fuck, look at those abs, man, Hot as hell, right?” Max said through gritted teeth, still crunching with all his might. “I just got to keep getting bigger. It’s like the only thing that matters is size, dude . . . and definition. Check out my arms, man.” Max raised his vein-covered, huge biceps beside his head and slowly brought his tightened fists inward, causing his arms to explode upward with what could only be described as muscleboy power. I stopped all motion with my hands and just stared from one jacked arm to the other. My best friend watched my face and smiled as I basically lost all functionality by the shock of seeing what used to be skinny twigs now having become giant, split, muscle peaks that screamed of strength and the kind of manhood that made people gasp. “You’re a fucking muscle god, Max,” I said, almost in a whisper – my awe could not be hidden. “I’m so glad to find out you’re into all this muscle, too, dude,” Max said, looking at his own flexed arms. “Do some pull-ups using my arms, man. Watch how my flexed guns can hold all of your weight. I just love showing off my strength for you.” Again, I did not need to be told twice. My body trembled with pleasure as I moved close enough to Max to feel the heat radiating from his tensed body. Our hard, bulging crotches banged into each other and we both let out soft moans of pleasure. I reached up and latched my hands onto thick, stone-like, flexed muscle-mountains. I let my body press against his upper torso – noticing how it felt like I was pushing against a slab of concrete. I bent my legs, bringing my heels up, and my crotch twitched dangerously close to explosion when Max’s arms didn’t dip even slightly and he accepted the weight of my entire body like it was nothing. “Fuck, dude, it’s so hot that my arms can hold all of you with no problem. You gotta crank out some pull-ups, man, as I walk around. Fucking feel the power,” Max said, sending me into new muscle lust territory. Beads of sweat were dripping from the end of Max’s nose and I suddenly realized we were both breathing hard and grunting like animals in the wild. I pulled my body upward, slowly, loving how my throbbing cock rubbed against his crotch and hard abs – feeling unbelievable even through my jeans. Max started taking a few steps around the basement as I pulled myself upward and then slowly let my body slide back down his now slippery, sweaty body. Max started growling loudly as he kept his arms locked in their flexed position, not giving in even a fraction of an inch because of my weight. I pulled myself up again, letting my lips brush quickly against Max’s jutting right nipple, which sent intense shivers up and down his pumped body. Three pull-ups were the max my small arms could crank out, so I had to let my feet fall back down to the floor – wiped out from the exertion, but not too tired to stop myself from groping Max’s sweaty, hard, flexed arms with lust-filled enthusiasm. “So fucking hot, dude! My arms barely felt your weight . . . your entire body! Oh damn, that has gotten me so jacked. I’m about to burst from the power I’m feeling. Three cool pull-ups, by the way, dude, but now let me show you what my big arms can do,” Max said, still flexing. “Grab hold of my body and hold on tight. I want to give you a little ride.” I obeyed my new muscle master – not because I was scared of him, but mostly because the idea of hanging onto his sweat covered, hard, bulging body excited me beyond belief. Max’s arms were still raised, so I wrapped my arms around his upper body, barely able to make my fingers meet since he had packed on so much muscle. My face was smashed up against the ridge between his mammoth pecs and I inhaled his muscled musk. I then wrapped my legs around his newly thicker-than-shit thighs, thankful that his jeans helped me to have some traction to stay in place. Even with my extra weight attached to his body, Max easily bent his legs and jumped up the few feet to grab hold of the metal beam that stretched across the basement. In the past, we normally had to get chairs to reach the beam for pull-ups, but Max had no problem taking us both up to the thick piece of anchoring metal. “Bro, you sure you put on that Freshman Fifteen up at college? Because you seem as light as a feather. You hefted yourself up on my arms for what . . . three pulls, right? Pretty impressive, dude, but let me show you what these monstrous arms of mine can do. Let’s bust out fifty lifts to pump up my guns into something special for you. Let’s show you just how jacked I can get these muscles. I think it’s going to get us both even more jacked below the waist, as well – if you know what I mean. I can’t wait to show you my protein enhanced rod, dude. I’m thinking you’re going to enjoy it as much as you like my muscles,” Max said, starting to quickly and expertly lift both of our bodies up to the beam. I watched his guns – loving how the veins started popping out thicker . . . harder . . . and loving, even more, how his already bulging biceps grew bigger, thicker, and more gorgeous with each lift. I squeezed Max’s body with my arms and legs even more tightly – knowing, instinctively, that his hard body probably didn’t feel it. I could, however, feel his now man-sized cock throbbing noticeably through his jeans. The dude definitely enjoyed his own strength and loved watching his arms swell up as much as I did. I lost count around his twenty-first lift, mostly because of my amazement at how effortlessly he could pull his weight and mine up to the beam. “Holy fuck, look at my body, dude. I’m blowing up huge. It’s like I’m going to pop soon. Your buddy, Max, isn’t going to stop any time soon, dude. I’m going to become a muscle mountain. Forty pounds of muscle in nine months! Just imagine what I can turn into in nine years. You won’t be able to wrap your arms around my body soon, man. I want to be so colossal I have to turn sideways to walk through doorways. I want to fill up elevators with my freaky muscles so other people won’t fit in. I want to have to sit on only reinforced furniture. I want to blow your mind, dude,” Max said as he continued to easily crank out lifts – obviously lost in self muscle lust. “You already have,” I said looking up at his now mammoth, red, sweat-covered peaks that now made my own arms look like toothpicks. “Fucking hell, I feel like I could shove over a mountain,” Max said, dropping his body back down to the floor with a heavy thud when he landed – causing me to slightly slide down his sweat-dripping body. “I swear I even forgot you were attached to me, dude.” Max walked around the room with me latched on to him, like I was nothing more than an apron or something. He then stopped and wrapped his arms around my torso, squeezing so tightly that I was forced to let my legs come undone and drop. The big guy chuckled as he looked down and watched my eyes bug out as he applied more pressure to his bear hug. He knew I was loving it, though. He could feel my crotch twitching for joy up against his. I couldn’t help but again notice the size of his giant boner as it pressed into me. It seemed that everything about Max had been supersized. I was in muscle heaven. He lessened his grip and let my feet touch the ground again. He kept his arms around me, though, and grinded his crotch slowly into mine. He smiled and I could tell he was about to take our reunion to a new place. “I’m still a fucking virgin, dude. I couldn’t think about anyone’s hot mouth around my hard cock except for yours. How about it? You want to suck me off while I flex all these big muscles for you, man?” Max asked. “I’ve learned that if I flex while I cum, my body’s growth is magnified. This could be the beginning of you turning me into a freak, dude. Care for a suck?” “Gladly,” I said, softly, feeling his humongous arms. “I can think of nothing that would bring me more pleasure.” My words caused even more sudden growth to the python he now sported in his pants. I was mistaken to think he was already fully hard, because he thickened even more and the thing snaked out longer. Max allowed me to pull back so I could look down at his open fly. I sucked in loudly, as soon as I saw a thick, monstrous mushroom head poking up beyond his pants. Of course, muscular, confident Max would choose to not bother with underwear. His cockhead continued to move upward – proving that he still hadn’t become fully engorged. Max reached down and pushed his jeans down past his balls and then stopped. I quickly realized it was going to take too much effort to get the tight pants beyond his muscular thighs and neither of us wanted to wait that long. I took a long, open-mouthed gaze at a cock that surely would have been perfect for porno films. This was no young man’s dick – my best friend from elementary school had clearly grown into his manhood during his freshman year of college. Balls, matching the size of what you’d find on a billiards table, hung low and looked magnificent framed by two ripped, muscular quads. Thicker than my wrist and clearly much longer than my ass chute, Max’s cock stuck straight out and was crowned by a blood pumping, dense vein – just like the one on both his biceps. It’s base was also surrounded by a forest of dark, curly fur. The head was plump, clearly a mouthful and then some. I looked up at my friend and he smiled at the shock on my face. “Didn’t fucking expect that, did you, buddy?” Max teased. “I swear the thing grew just to keep up with my muscles. Every time I weighed myself, I was pretty sure half my gains were because of my cock and balls. No one at college comes close to matching my size and, trust me, I see a lot of schlongs in the showers at school. Bet you never thought I’d grow such a manly tool when we were kids, did you? This giant thing is so ready for a test drive, buddy. You’re going to make me the happiest muscleboy in the world.” “If I don’t choke to death first!” I said, quickly – making him laugh. “We can take it nice and slow, bro. That would be best for me, anyway,” Max said. “My body is so jacked right now I think I’m going to explode the second your lips meet my dick.” “You’re so fucking huge, Max. I think you’ve grown some since you got here,” I replied. “Wouldn’t doubt it . . . I’m so tensed I feel like I’ve just come off a three-hour lifting session. Just think about when I’ll be five times bigger than you, dude . . . and even ten times bigger. I bet my cock keeps growing just like the rest of me. I hope so, at least. Fucking hell, I know that throat of yours is going to give me orgasmic pleasure like I’ve never known. Don’t worry, dude, I’ll open you up, slowly,” Max said, stepping towards me and placing his hands on my shoulders. Max pushed lightly and I resisted on purpose. This caused him to look me in the eyes and, instantly, he knew what I was doing. He pushed harder – his biceps getting bigger from the exertion. My legs wobbled but I stayed firm, making Max’s face slowly move into an ‘eat shit’ grin. My best friend inhaled, deeply, making his chest puff out like he was some giant wrestler taking on two opponents at once. He took his right hand away from my shoulder and flexed his biceps in the space between us. He then squeezed my shoulder with his left hand – hard enough to make me squeal – and pushed down with what seemed like the weight of the world. My knees buckled, immediately. Max didn’t let me hit the floor hard, he was in total control. His left hand guided me gently to my knees and then he let go. He raised his left arm into a flexed biceps pose, too. Max then turned his waist, slightly, making his giant manhood slap against my cheek. There wasn’t pain, for the thing hit me lightly, but there was a lot of instant pleasure. It felt like a full two-liter bottle of soda was tapping the side of my face. I reached up and grabbed a handful of Max’s balls, realizing, instantly, that my hand was too small to hold them both, completely. I squeezed and two things happened. First, Max let out a deep moan that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up with excitement. And then a big blob of thick cum gurgled up from the slit of his large dickhead. It was like I had found the fountain of youth. I leaned in and let my tongue swipe that chalky man-honey straight from the source. It tasted intensely masculine, salty, pure, and like it could provide all the basic nutrients I would ever need. I licked my lips and then opened my mouth wide, taking all of Max’s fist-sized head into my mouth at one time. The dude’s already tense body, shot even more rigid “Fucking hell!” he yelled as he quickly forced himself to recover, keeping his arms flexed the entire time. “I’m not going to last long, buddy. I’m so sorry. I’m just too fucking stoked to finally be plowing your throat. Imagine how quickly I’m going to explode when it’s your ass I’m stuffing with this big thing.” That thought made me clamp my ass cheeks together. I had definitely never ridden something as huge as Max’s cock and I wasn’t even sure I was ready for that. In the meantime, however, I opened my throat as much as I could and Max could tell that was an invitation for him to start slowly shoving his battering ram into me. As promised, Max took his time. His heavy breathing told me it was for him just as much as it was for me. He wanted this to last, but he knew his body was already teetering on the precipice of complete, abandoned release. Tears welled in my eyes as that huge cockhead plowed slowly down my throat. I regulated my breathing and allowed my mouth to relax as much as I could. Looking up at Max’s bulging arms took my mind away from any pain and soon, the big guy was moving his crotch back and forth into my face, my throat accepting all of him. Max’ breathing made it sound like he was towards the end of finishing a marathon. He kept releasing his arms and then flexing them, again – each time harder and bigger. “Aw fuck, dude, I can feel myself growing! That is one fucking hot mouth. I’m not going to last much longer,” Max said. It made me happy to know that even with his huge muscles, Max could not hold back the building tidal wave inside his big, heavy, hairy balls. Every vein on his body was thick with blood since every muscle was now super tensed. The dude’s chest looked like a road map of a street-congested city. I knew the miniature Hulk was about to explode and what an explosion it was going to be. Max’s arms were jacked into bulging mountaintops. His chest was ballooning out so much I almost couldn’t see his face from below. And the dude’s abs were popping like bulbous speedbumps stretching down his stomach. I sucked like it would be the last thing I would ever do. I wanted to give my muscled best friend a blow job to remember. I wanted to give his body the kind of workout that would instantly give him gains that would make him apeshit crazy. I wanted to cause Max to grow huge. “Ohmyfuckinggooooooood!!!” Max screamed, loudly and deeply – it was more like a bestial growl. To call it a ‘gusher’ would have been selling Max’s ejaculation short. His rod emptied into me what was clearly voluminous buckets of semen. It felt like every freaking part of my insides was going to be full of his warm, oatmeal-thick spunk. The dude’s new muscles must have made him churn out juice every single minute of the day and he seemed to have been saving it up for a very long time. I swallowed quickly and deeply, but gobs of Max milk still dribbled down my chin. The big guy was still flexing away while he continued to thrust his giant man-sausage down my throat. I looked up as he tensed his arms even stronger and squeezed his eyes tight as a few remaining thick drops of cum shot into me. It definitely felt like I had now gained the Freshmen Fifteen just from the deposit muscleboy sent streaming down my throat. Any thoughts of our little sex session having tired Max out were quickly discarded as he dropped his arms, pulled his still-rigid cock from my mouth, and then went alpha crazy. “Fucking A, that was hot-as-hell, dude! God, I feel so freaking pumped! It’s like I’m on fire or radiating intense nuclear rays or something. I already feel like I could orgasm again. Look at my freaking jacked body, bro. I’m fucking Superman! There’s only one way to show you my gratitude for that blow job, man,” Max said, reaching down to shove his pants to the floor and step out of them. The big guy then bent down, grabbed me under my arms and lifted me to my feet – and it seemed like he used about as much effort to do it as I would have to lift a t-shirt. Max then stuck his hands down the front of my jeans and with one giant pull he ripped the button off, sending it flying and tore the zipper open. He then pushed my jeans down, so my hard cock popped straight up against my stomach. Max let out a loud whistle of appreciation as he gazed on my stiffness. Compared to his, my dick was nothing to get excited about, but I could hold my own with most guys. There was no need for muscleboy to get down on his knees for what he wanted to do. He had other ideas. Max grabbed me at the waist and picked me up. I soared up into the air – Freshmen Fifteen and all – with it taking no effort at all for the big arms holding me. Max maneuvered my body like I might as well have been a blow up doll or something lighter. The dude’s gorgeous mouth sucked in my hardness in one swift gulp and then he immediately started push-pulling my body into his throat. I was already so wound up by his body, his monstrous orgasm, and just his cocky alpha-ness that I spewed on his third powerful suck. I didn’t produce the tsunami-sized wave of cum that Max had, but I emptied what was definitely a thick load for me into the excited mouth below me. Max continued to hold me in the air and walked around the room as he lapped up every drop of juice my balls could produce. When he was sure I was totally empty, he tossed my body down onto one of the sofas and then immediately started flexing again. He began with a most muscular pose accompanied by a loud growl – actually catching me off guard and scaring me a little. “I’m fucking power, man!” he yelled, his face turning red from the exertion of the pose. “I feel fucking invincible. Dude, look at me! I am so fucking jacked! I can feel myself growing right now!” Max took his balled up right hand and pounded hard on his pecs about ten times. He then did the same against his abs with his left hand. Both arms were then thrust up into a double biceps pose as the guy let out an even louder growl. My spent cock shot instantly hard again when I took in his flexed arms. Then, in a flash, he had dropped his arms and he was smashed up against my body – pressing me into the back of the couch with enough force to break it. Max grinded his huge hard cock against mine as he brought his lips up to my mouth and his tongue rammed its way in. It was the most savage kiss I had ever received and I was shocked by how much it turned me on. I could feel my empty balls somehow producing some pre-cum that leaked out. Max’s hard muscled body compacted me into the sofa with so much power I had a feeling I was going to be a few inches thinner by the time he was done. I knew if he continued to thrust his huge cock into mine for much longer, I was going to spew again. And I wasn’t sure there was anything left in my body to release – which made me worry about having a heart attack from the intense empty explosion. Max, even as excited as he was, must have figured out how my much smaller body could not take the same kind of physical abuse as his. My muscles hadn’t been enhanced by nine months of lifting heavy weights. He knew his new muscleboy status meant he had to take it easier with us mere mortals. Max pressed his mouth into mine really hard for a few seconds, then he pulled his face away and rolled onto the sofa beside me. “I just knew you’d be into muscle,” Max said, his huge chest heaving up and down, beautifully. “I’m not usually,” I replied. “I’m into yours, though, Max. Cause I’ve always been into you.” He looked at me – really looked into my eyes and smiled. Suddenly, it dawned on me that he had been into me, as well. I smiled back at him, reaching over to grab the biceps nearest me and run my hand all over it. He looked down and watched me appreciate him. He then, suddenly, got up from the sofa, found his pants, and fished something out of the back pocket. He then came back and sat beside me, this time close enough that we were touching. He tossed some folded up papers on my stomach. “I brought you something,” he said. “What are these?” I asked. “An application to transfer classes already taken to my college. I figured we could get an apartment off campus and you could help me grow, while I walk around nude all the time and let you grope me anytime you like. That is, if you think you can handle it, bro,” Max said, leaning over to kiss my shoulder. “Well,” I said, “that all depends on how you answer this one question, muscleboy.” “Yeah,” Max replied, “What’s that?” “How big do you want to get?” I asked, looking deep into his eyes. “As big as I can,” he answered without any hesitation. “Right answer,” I said. “I’ll submit the transfer papers, tomorrow.”
  18. Jock Super smart Wristwatch A preface This is my first story, my English is not so good so I am using a translator. I apologize if the spelling or grammar is incorrect but that has never been my strong point. If anyone is interested in revising the story and improving the grammar and spelling then send a private message. and thanks to : @Azerreza @mrnonsense76 who have motivated me to try it nevertheless So now we come to the story Jock Super smart Wristwatch Kyle was a college football player (name of college) he had just gotten a scholarship. He was told that he could get the scholarship but he had to get his grades right. In the beginning Kyle had no problem because it was repetitive and he was able to get average grades until his sophomore year when it became noticeably difficult for him because he didn't understand a lot of things and at the same time he was under pressure from the football team to do a better job of presenting himself because the puppy dog rule was over. After a while of settling in, Kyle had to cut back on other things, which was cheaper than losing his scholarship. In the last game Kyle clearly noticed that the opponents had the advantage even if they won by a small margin, Kyle noticed that his body could not cope with the new demands, so he started watching to improve his body, which is why he had to do more sports after school and on weekends, which had an effect on his learning. As his body slowly got better, his grades slowly got worse which he didn't notice until a teacher told him that his grade point average was getting below average and recommended that he get tutoring to get better. Pissed off at the conversation Kyle swallowed the classroom door shut tightly on his way out. On his way out Kyle's stomach growled and he went to the nearest snack machine and bought himself a pair of protein bars to lower his stress which often helped and at the same time he was able to gain weight again. While chewing the protein bar kyle looked on the bulletin board and saw everything from room swaps, personal care, 450€ jobs, and then he saw a note your grades are getting bad and you do not know more then contact me I can help you I give only one person tutoring oh you want to know my name is Jay I am happy to meet you. Later after gym kyle looked where he could find Jay. Kyle had to go to the college basement that Jay works there alone. He knocked on the door. Jay was sitting in the lab and suddenly heard a knock on the door he thought who got lost here? So Jay said, "The door's open, you can come in. When Kyle heard he could come in he went in, he was a little scared that the room was so big but also saw Jay a typical nerd. Kyle froze for a moment when he saw Kyle, he never thought a football player would come here. Hi my name is Jay and I am a football player I saw your note while eating my protein bar regarding tutoring I would like to take it. Hey my name is Jay and I'm studying here for math and engineering. I'm having a problem with both of my math related classes getting more and more out of my grasp and of course my grades are getting lower as a result. Okay, Kyle, let me see if I can help you out. Yeah Jay thanks that would be good I have 1 condition I have a tight schedule I only have 1 hour for tutoring I can't give you more time than that so make the most of it Ok give me your stuff and I'll see what I can do. I'll be back in 2 days and I'll need my stuff back. the next day at the football game the coach was pissed that Kyle's performance had dropped drastically the coach threatened him if you don't bulk up in 2 months then that's it for you then you can look for another college !!!! . Kyle was now very tense the stress from studying and now stress from the coach had done something to him his head was so full that a couple of nerves were overloaded and they burst and Kyle suddenly realized that he had never had such a calm in the head but the burst nerves also led to kyle changing suddenly he didn't care about some things he just wanted to reach his goal to be a very good football player in school. Later when Kyle was home he decided to stop using the legal way to gain mass, he just thought coach wants me to have more mass on my body then he should get it. So he ordered steroids he didn't care about the side effects as long as his body got more mass. Jay was reading Kyle's stuff and had to laugh that it was pretty simple what he didn't understand. The more Jay thought about it the more he thought about Kyle with his big body, muscular big and Jay thought he saw some veins on Kyle's palm, Jay shook his head and tanned himself again and worked out a little plan for studying with Kyle. The next day Kyle went to Jay's house cursing in his head that he finally wanted the fucking steroids. When Kyle was almost at Jay's he knocked on the door again instead of softly with his fingers like last time he did it with his fist a couple of times but very hard, Jay was startled who was that? When the door opened he saw Kyle then he calmed down and said hey Kyle I made a study plan we can start right away if you want , Jay could smell and see that Kyle had been working out , all of a sudden he felt downstairs that he was getting aroused he had never had that before he quickly turned around so Kyle wouldn't see it , but Kyle saw it he pretended he didn't notice but realized that Jay was getting aroused by him , Kyle thought that could be interesting . Kyle took his bag and threw it on a table Jay said Loud HEY what are you doing !!!! don't you ever do that again!!! Kyle stood and grunted and walked over to Jay and said AB right now you talk quiet only I talk loud understood and squeezed Jay hand very tight to show who is the stronger one here. Jay got quiet and went to work with Kyle to study. Kyle liked the way Jay had made the study plan he had another exam next week and so he could prepare well Jay asked if it was all ok YES said Kyle's voice. When Kyle was gone Jay almost fainted because he couldn't get enough of looking at Kyle's body and he wanted to try to convince Kyle that he needed more help. Kyle got up the next day and saw a package lying in front of the door. Finally Kyle thought it was there he quickly took it and opened it and saw little bottles of steroids on it he grinned devilishly and thought now the fun could finally begin. Kyle immediately took a syringe and filled it up and injected it into his arm, he threw the syringe in the trash can and got his workout clothes time for sports. When he started he slowly noticed that he felt better and better and had more energy but he wanted to make sure with energy and another energy drink mixed with a protein shake. Without realizing it Kyle was almost 5 hours in the gym but he had never felt so good when he looked at the clock he saw that it was time for tutoring. Without showering with the clothes from yesterday he went to Jay, Jay was already waiting for him he again a loud knock on the door and said quietly come in, Kyle came in still slightly sweaty and threw his bag back on the table, Jay wanted to say something again but Kyle looked quickly at him and wanted to say nothing now, Jay had to drool in his head when he saw Kyle sweaty bathed his cock was also very excited, Kyle wore a thin T-shirt so Jay could see that Kyle's body had veins everywhere, Jay asked now we start with the tutoring or not!!! Yeah of course here after an hour she was done and Jay wanted to ask Kyle if we tutored more often or longer we could get more results Kyle stood up with a huff and took Kyle's hands and squeezed them so hard Jay almost had to scream in pain I hate to repeat myself I have a set schedule and it stays that way this is not important gym and football is important !!!! Next time you say anything, I'll break your fingers. Got it. !!!! With tears in his eyes and fear of Kyle Jay said yes that will never happen again, very good said Kyle. A few days have passed and Kyle has passed the exam well, also the steroids slowly showed their effect without Kyle noticing it also changed his mood he was very irritable and could get angry quickly that had Jay the last few days to feel Kyle looked more and more often at the scale and saw every day a larger number on the scale. The learning went well Jay found Kyle he also noticed that it stayed in his head better 1 week before Coach's deadline Kyle looked very different his attitude had changed he now had a lot more muscle and had gained quite a bit of mass but the team was starting to get scared because Kyle had become more aggressive and very irritable he didn't allow it when someone didn't show him respect. Weeks passed again and Kyle became more and more massive and muscular but his grades were now only bad he was angry and boiled with rage when it was time for tutoring again Kyle kicked in Jay's door and said friend from now on you will make a better plan or I will find someone else !!!! When Jay heard what Kyle said he was scared and erect at the same time, Jay became more and more in love with Kyle and couldn't imagine Kyle leaving him now so Jay said before Kyle left wait give me a week and I have a solution for you. I hope Kyle said you know how I feel about my time being wasted. !!!! . Kyle went home after Jay to get another steroid shot, then it was time for him to satisfy himself. Kyle worked out more and at the same time increased the steroid dosage he was always afraid if he didn't have anything. The coach was scared how Kyle was changing, he was getting scared of Kyle, Kyle wanted more and more special treatment in the team. I would appreciate your feedback
  19. Hello, everyone. This story is inspired by "A Bet" by @pasidious, to whom I offer my thanks. It is meant to be a continuation/expansion of sorts. I hope you will find it enjoyable! The sun had been bearing down on the college quad all Sunday, but now it was hanging low enough in the sky that being out and about was tolerable, even enjoyable, so that's what we were doing. My best friend was relaxing on the bench, arms draped on the backrest and legs spread apart. I arguably had an even better sitting arrangement: lying on the seat with my head resting on his left thigh. He'd flex it occasionally, just to mess with me. I couldn't care less, of course. For one, I was busy enjoying the June sky, magnificently blue and clear but for a few wispy clouds that were just starting to turn golden. For another, the tiny bounces of my head against my friend's restless quad kept reminding me of how well his new leg day regimen was coming along. I tried to come up with a good pun about college quads and quad muscles, but either I couldn't think of any or none existed to begin with. "Quad-terback", maybe? Ugh, pass. Neither of us even played football, anyway. Giving up, I refocused on how good my head felt against his leg, and thought about how lucky I was. I've always considered myself rather lucky. Come to think of it, fortunate might be a better choice of word. Luck is mere random chance, while fortune is something you can have a hand in. For example, I had been lucky to be in the same class as my future best friend, but fortunate to get to sit next to him. I owed it to luck that his genetics gave him a cute face, a warm smile and a great body, but I had fortune to thank that fitness was among out shared interests. Falling for him, though, that had nothing to do with luck or fortune. On the contrary, it felt inevitable. From the very beginning, whenever I was with him, the world seemed to lose its rough edges and make more sense. Obstacles turned into exciting challenges. Embarassments became funny stories to retell over months to come. Fears and worries melted away before his casual yet near unshakeable confidence. At the same time, he threw himself into pursuits with an infectious passion. A walk outdoors turned into an adventurous expedition. A snowball fight became a day-long epic stuggle. Every moment of leisure spent with him was an experience. And then, of course, there were his looks to consider. Simply put, my friend started out handsome and graduated to HOT. A piercing pair of eyes framed by thick, expressive eyebrows, an easy, inviting smile, and a rockin' body that never lost its tone, even as it slowly gained mass over the years. Yeah, my friend was sexy and he knew it. He moved with the self-assuredness of a cat, completely comfortable with himself, turning heads left and right. One might think my infatuation is causing me to exaggerate, but the scores of girls flirting with him on a weekly basis would beg to differ. I'm sure there were many closeted dudes desperately pining after him, too. After all, I was one of them. And even though I alone had the privilege of being so close to the guy of so many people's dreams on a daily basis, this tantalizing closeness, bereft of the escalation I so deeply desired, gradually tightened itself into a shackle that eventually threatened to choke the life out of me. My heart had room only for him, but that space remained achingly vacant. In retrospect, I should have been more open with him. He was, after all, my best friend; we shared practically everything else between us. But by the time I acknowledged my feelings, our relationship had been pretty set in its ways. While I was certain he wouldn't mind me being gay, I was terrified that he would be weirded out by me being into him. I dreaded that things would never be the same between us again, and that we'd end up drifting apart or, even worse, breaking things off. This unthinkable possibility was one of the two things that kept me going. The other was that my friend, despite the aforementioned constant attention from the fair sex, never seemed to occupy himself with girls all that much. Sure, he'd have a number of one night stands and even a fling every now and then, and he seemed to enjoy it all, but he never pursued anything stable. It could have just been him sowing his oats, but I kept secretly hoping his true interests lied elsewhere. Not that I did anything to ascertain this, though. While we discussed his many conquests and prospective hookups, I never dared to steer the conversation to guys, and he in turn was very discreet when it came to my own sex life, which was restricted to cyberspace. Graduation came and went, and we both applied for the same out of state college. Naturally, we roomed together. In this exciting new phase of our lives, we wanted to try all sorts of new experiences, and my friend came up with an odd way to encourage that: bets and dares. "Betcha you can't do a kegstand for half a minute." "Betcha you can't smoke this without coughing." "Betcha you can't pull an all-nighter." Coming from anyone else, these could be recipes for disaster, prime plots for PSAs on the perils of peer pressure. My friend knew me and what I was capable of well, however, and never dared me to attempt anything I couldn't handle. What's more, he knew that I'd never take a bet unless I stood to gain something, win or lose. Fortune, not luck, remember. Freshman year wore on pleasantly enough. My friend, naturally, thrived, quickly establishing himself as the big man on campus, a charming and affable figure. Even this newfound fame failed to affect our bond - we still spent as much time as possible together. As for me, the change of scenery did me a world of good. I began to feel more at ease with myself and stepped up my workouts as a result, starting to catch up with my friend's progress. I'd always been more or less in shape, but it felt really good to dodge the Freshman's Fifteen and instead see my body slowly transform under the daily struggle. Plus, I got to spend even more time admiring my bro sweating and grunting his way into a buffer, bigger bod. Seeing every one of his muscle groups flex and bulge over and over again was almost too much to take, though. By Spring Break, I had started to entertain the idea of coming clean. A previously unspeakable prospect, but if I didn't go for it now, I was certain I never would. But then came the dare that would change everything: "Betcha mine's bigger." I'd stolen many furtive glances at my friend's dick over the years, of course, and had formed an excellent impression. In fact, his cock looked as if it might be nearly as big as mine, which at 8 inches was no mean feat. I'd spent countless nights abusing my tool, fantasizing that I was holding his instead. To finally see it in full display would be a dream come true. So, after offering some token "no homo" caveats, as had become second nature, I agreed. I figured that, win or lose, I only stood to gain. The only thing was, I couldn't have imagined just how much I'd gain that day...Ever since then, my BF had become my BF. It's true I had been very lucky that he, too, was gay and into me. But I was fortunate that he had finally decided to bite the bullet and suggested that bet to set things in motion. It was a bit of a shame that it had taken both of us that long to acknowledge our feelings, but at least we had done our very best to make up for lost time over the past year. Such were the thoughts I was entertaining, lying on my love during a warm summer afternoon, when along came about half a dozen senior-looking guys, swaggering their way across the quad lawn. I recognised most of them from the gym, although we had never exchanged a word; they tended to keep their distance from us and even avoided looking us in the eye, except to scowl. I hadn't wanted to apply any labels to their conduct, but now, seeing them surrounding us in the largely deserted and definitely faculty-less quad with stormy expressions, one came readily to mind: "Homophobe". Poorly veiled sarcasm soon gave its way to crude jokes and finally to outright slurs. It was then that I made a serious mistake: I assumed that these bullies must have extremely low intelligence and therefore would not understand a witty barb even if it kissed their ass. In my defense, it probably wouldn't make a difference no matter what I'd said; just daring to open my mouth seemed to be enough. The closest bully lunged at us even before I had finished my quip, eager for any excuse to justify his craving for violence. My bro, having greater presence of mind, had already geared up for a sucker-punch, delivering it to the guy's admittedly bulky midsection with such force and skill that he crumpled mid-swing and doubled over in front of the bench. His cohorts gathered round to check on him, shocked. That was all the diversion we needed. My friend leaped off the bench and started sprinting towards the main building, and I followed close behind. Bellows of rage soon followed us, but for now, at least, we had the advantage; these guys had clearly never paid much attention to cardio. We dashed madly through the double doors and down the hallways, looking for help but unsurprisingly finding none. Most of the students had already left on break, and those that hadn't were probably tripping in their rooms or hitting the town. As for the professors, any self-respecting member of faculty wouldn't be caught dead working on a summer Sunday's afternoon. The time we lost in out fruitless search was gained by our pursuers. The echo of their yells reminded me of the hunting calls of wolves as it reverberated in the empty corridors. It sounded as if they were approaching us from everywhere. Sure enough, three silhouettes appeared at the end of the corridor we were currently in, and triumphant cries from behind let us know we were trapped. My friend grabbed me roughly with one hand and opened the nearest door with the other, flinging me inside. As I scrambled to keep my balance, I saw him scrambling with the doorknob. "Yes!" he exclaimed breathlessly, and then I heard a sharp click. Trying to catch my breath, I took in some of my surroundings: a dusty glass cabinet showcasing an ancient sound console; a worn bookcase housing a portable radio/casette player, a small collection of CDs and a handful of instruction manuals; a cork board drowning in pinned pieces of paper and post-its, a couple of them on the floor; tarps covering a family of boxy shapes, with a mess of cables protruding underneath; a desk with a computer and a rather modern microphone on a stand; black foamy material covering all the walls except the large, thick window facing the hallway. This was the PA Room. The Public Announcement Room, or PA Room for short, was a place of many uses, the official one being, of course, the broadcasting of campus-wide announcements. Otherwise, it served as our college's radio station whenever anyone from the A/V club could be bothered to wander in, as a recording studio any time students needed one for a project or a promo, and in one memorable occasion when the Music Room had flooded, as a very cramped substitute practice space for the college band. There was, however, another use for it. Its soundproofing, combined with the fact that the key was kept on the inside to avoid any recording-ruining intrusions, made it a great spot for a quick fuck. No-one could hear you, but anyone might see you if you didn't keep low to the floor. It was especially favoured by couples who wanted to feel the thrill of getting it on in a public place without risking too much exposure. If the staff knew about it, they certainly hadn't made any indication of it. Who knows? Maybe they took advantage of it themselves from time to time. I certainly had a few likely candidates in mind. I turned to my friend, about to congratulate him for thinking of this shelter, when a cascade of loud bangs came from the door. The shapes of our hunters filled the window frame, glowering down on us. They took turns trying to break the door or window open, fortunately to no avail. Those resting between attempts would scream and gesticulate at us. I couldn't hear them clearly, but the context was easy enough to grasp. I took my phone out of my pocket, my fingers numb. As I did, I remembered that the room was also equipped to block cell signal; wouldn't want a careless student's errant ringtone to ruin a recording, after all. Just as I feared, the screen showed no bars, and from the look of consternation on my friend's face, neither did his. I turned to the computer next, haphazardly tapping at the keys and moving the mouse. The screen came to life, and I groaned in frustration as I saw a log-in screen, requesting a user name and password combination I couldn't begin to guess. I clicked on the textbox, hoping a dropdown of memorized credentials would appear. No such luck. This ruled out both the PA System and internet access. Great. I looked to my friend again. Contrary to my frantic movements, he seemed to stand rather still, looking intently at his toes. "What are we gonna do?" I asked, realizing to my embarassment that my voice was shaking. "Are we trapped?" My friend swallowed with some difficulty before answering, "Seems like we can't easily call for help. The door and window are durable...but not indestructible. They prolly know that, seeing as they haven't fucked off yet. If this keeps up..." he paused, not wanting to give shape to the future that awaited us with words. He turned to me, and I was shocked to see his eyes shine with tears. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "No, don't, please," I said, holding him by the shoulders gently. I tried to say something more, something reassuring and encouraging, but instead my voice caught in my throat. I felt tears prick my eyes in turn. No matter whether they were 21 years old or lived in the 21st century, it seemed some people were still far from mature when it came to accepting love. To want to hurt something harmless and beautiful...I couldn't wrap my head around it. If not for the firm shoulder under my palm, I'd be feeling very alone at that moment. "I can't think of anything...all we can do is hope we'll get lucky somehow," said my friend, muttering now more to himself than me. But just then, his expression shifted. He repeated, softly, "Get lucky..." and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's it!" he exclaimed, startling me off him. "Huh?", I asked, totally lost. "D' you know what we should do?" "No, what?" "We should jack off." It took me a moment to process what he had just said, as well as its implications. "What, here? Now? Right NOW?!" "Yah," he said as matter-of-factly as possible, though I could tell that even he was unsure of what he was proposing. Still, it seemed that my incredulity only served to strengthen his resolve. "Yah," he said again, his voice louder. "We should take a stand. Show 'em what we're really made of." "Are you out of your mind? Do you seriously think we can get a hard-on while we're about to get our ass kicked?! And even if we can, you want them to see...y' know! Everyone'll freak -" "I know we can do it, man," he cut me off, his voice low and urgent. "You know how I know? Because when I'm with you, I feel like I can do anything. I bet it's the same for you. I can feel that, too. I've been waiting so long for us to be together, and I'm not about to let anyone ruin it for us." "But..." He leaned in and placed his hand behind my head, our foreheads resting against each other. His gaze was so intense the words died in my throat. "C'mon, dude. Let's grow hard. Let's grow huge. Let's grow...together." His warm breath washed over me as he whispered these last words, and something inside me snapped. Was my friend's sex appeal so irresistible as to override my very instinct of survival? Or had he, perhaps, convinced me that this was indeed the best course of action? Then again, maybe I just wanted to spend my final moments of safety in defiant provocation of those who were threatening it. Regardless of reason, the result was the same: I leaned forward and kissed him. He responded immediately, his lips pressing down on mine, our tongues soon wrestling for control. His hand remained on my head for a bit, tousling my hair, before moving to my back and pulling me into an embrace. I wrapped my arms around him as well, pressing myself against him, feeling as much of his body with my own as possible. A couple more fruitless bangs echoed around the room. My eyes opened, darting to the window. Two of our besiegers had unhooked the nearest fire extinguishers and were trying to batter the door down. A couple were yelling at us, angry veins showing on their throats and foreheads. Next to them, one guy was staring at us with such hate, you'd think his eyes would shoot flames at any moment. The last one had turned away from the window and was apparently fighting the urge to vomit, his large body trembling in disgust. Paying them no more heed, I closed my eyes and continued grinding against my friend, losing myself in the moment as my hands roamed all over his hot body. Unbidden, his words from that fateful day flowed into my mind. "Let's see 'em hard. Hard. Get hard. Let's see them at full size. You're already starting to bone up..." I felt my dick respond to the call, steadily plumping up and rising, twitching in pleasure as it grazed my man's thigh under my shorts. At the same time, his hardening cock rubbed against my own leg, tracing an upward path. As our erections reached their full, glorious size and height, we broke our embrace and grinned at each other, he cockily and I sheepishly, a bit embarassed at how unfounded my earlier objection had turned out to be. "See? This wasn't so hard after all. A sentence which otherwise has no place in this room!", he said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. He turned towards the window, facing the gang for the first time since we entered the room, and I followed suit. "Ok, count of three, whip 'em out." He always liked to kick things off with these words, a callback to that first time. Bit of a goofy catchphrase by this point, but still, it was helpful. "Even professional bands have the drummer count off the beat, so we might as well beat off on a count, right?" he had later commented, earning a hearty groan and eyeroll from me. "One...two...THREE." I dropped my shorts, the elastic band snagging only for a moment on my swollen cockhead, and my dick bounced back sharply, standing proudly at attention. The bullies grimaced and winced, as if someone had kicked them in the balls all at once. I glanced to the right and was greeted with the more welcoming sight of my bro's balls and cock, exactly as long and hard as my own. Any last reservations I may have had for what was about to happen evaporated. I looked down at my tool as my fingers curled around it, appreciating its girth and heft. I tightened my grip momentarily, giving it a squeeze, and it pulsed in response. Then, I started stroking. I immediately felt the telltale difference. I had experimented a couple of times, jerking myself off when my bro wasn't around, hoping to surprise him with the results when he came back. It had felt exactly the same as a normal wank and resulted in nothing out of the ordinary, no matter how vividly I pictured him being there with me. It seemed like my dick would accept no substitutes. But this time, we were both here, stroking together, just like on the day of that bet, just like we'd done on many occasions since. And as I stroked myself, it felt as if my whole body was being stroked too, getting teased and played with by a giant, invisible hand. Although by this point I had experienced it a fair number of times, it still felt as unbelievably amazing as it did on the day of that fateful bet. I honestly don't think I will ever get tired of it - and who could blame me? It began, as it always did, slowly. Today time was of the essence, of course, but some things simply can't be rushed. Besides, we both knew the pace would pick up soon enough, in all manner of ways. A trickle of warmth started radiating from my burning cock. It spread lazily, like a sunrise, across my torso, caressing my stomach, then splitting into two waves that crossed my chest, gathering steam within my shoulders, before finally shooting along my arms and from there back into my dick. It then travelled the other way, through my swelling balls across my taint, wrapping itself tighly against my ass cheeks, then snaking around my slightly trembling thighs, and down to my calves, seemingly vanishing into the earth. But then, this warmth spread all over my body again, only quicker and stronger. And then it happened again. And again. And again. Faster and faster it pulsed, even as my stroking stayed slow and deliberate. It wasn't long before it became impossible to follow. Instead, it was as if an electric current was coursing through my entire form, making it stand as rigid as my rod. What had started as a welcoming hearth was now a roaring furnace centered within my junk, giving off unrelenting heat which suffused every inch of my body and grew still more intense by the second. Beads of sweat formed on my creased forehead and rested for a moment on my furrowed brows before falling on my veiny shaft, lubricating it for the benefit of my ever-pumping fist. My breath grew more shallow. I raised my head and turned it sharply to the right. Despite the intensity of the moment, I could take in every detail with perfect clarity, as if time itself had slowed down. My peripheral vision told me, therefore, that he had made a simultaneous mirror movement, jerking his head upright and turning to the left. Our eyes met as we both stood up straight, facing each other. His dark brown eyes were mesmerizing. Rivulets of sweat were running down his toned body, and I could pick up his scent: powerful, yet not unpleasant. He smelled like home to me. His muscles looked like they had just had a great pump at the gym; his skin appeared stretched over them, as if barely able to contain the growing power within. His mouth split into a wicked, cocky grin, and I felt my smile widen to match it. Then, finally, my gaze came to rest on his throbbing dick, standing tall and proud, and, of course, exactly as big as mine. As expected, he was stroking it at the same speed as me. Oddly enough, we hadn't given much thought on why this happened to us or, at least, we hadn't had the opportunity to really talk about it. It seemed like every time we mentioned it to one another, it was swiftly followed by a fierce joint desire for a practical demonstration, which precluded any intruding thoughts. Still, there were a few nights where I had idly mulled it over in my head, lying with his arms wrapped around me as sleep drew near. It seemed to me that it all came down to our cocks. Something about the realization that they were exactly the same size, both soft and hard. It must have unlocked some kind of deeper connection between us, an unspoken yet shared conviction that, thus united, we could both be so much more than either of us could ever be individually. That was the way I felt at this moment too, as I admired our twin dicks being pumped at the same steady, hypnotic rhythm. ("Me and him...we're two dudes in one".) I thought, proudly. ("We are...") ("...together...") Was that...? ("...we will...") His voice, too? ("...ΒΕCOME...") A deluge of power engulfed my entire body. A bolt of lightning might as well have struck me where I stood. I gasped and doubled over slightly as I got the wind knocked out of me. My chest, however, seemed to move less compared to the rest of my body. That was because it had just swelled outward, almost doubling in size in an instant. As I watched it filled out even more, pumping up faster and faster to the rhythm of my accelerating heartbeat, forming a nice pec shelf. The sweat on my newly grown muscles darkened the fabric of my light grey shirt, outlining them against it. My dick gave a powerful twitch at the sight, but I kept it under control. After all, the fun was just getting started. I wouldn't keep looking at myself for long, though. The best part about this thing, see, is that it's happening to another dude at the same time. I can feel the change within me while watching HIM transform as well and react to it. It's unspeakably hot. No two men on earth have ever experienced what we do in these moments. The outline of my friend's ballooning chest was clearly visible under his black tank top, the pecs growing thick and hard against the already taut fabric. The outline of his nipples appeared, pushing at first outward, then downward, as the slabs of muscle became too heavy for them. The tank top dipped under the weight, further exposing the developing crevice between the pecs. His dogtag accessory, which had been previously resting at an angle against his chest, jerked this way and that as he excitedly bounced his massive mounds of muscle, grunting softly with every step of that uniquely masculine dance. I decided to play a little as well, but instead of bouncing my pecs, I rolled them slowly over and over. I could practically feel the striations appear and disappear as my muscles undulated in an unparallelled display of control. "Awww yeaaahngh" I heard, and for the life of me I still can't tell which of us uttered it. Perhaps it was the sum of our combined ecstatic moans, celebrating the return of our shared muscle. For a moment, my eyes caught sight of the guy who had tried to grab at me. Although I couldn't hear him, his lips moved slowly and were easy enough to read: "Holy shit!" I looked back to my friend. His free hand eagerly lifted his top, exposing his flat belly. Just in time, too; the slight but distinct grooves, a product of years of dedicated hard work, were already deepening, filling with shadow as a pack of solid muscle bricks rose into prominence. As if the sweat dripping off them wasn't enough, my friend, now keeping his tank top raised with his teeth, rapidly swapped hands and proceeded to feel his abs with his formerly occupied palm, slathering them with precum. "Ohhh, fuck yeah..." he whispered, and a chuckle of pure delight escaped his lips as he caressed, poked and prodded to his heart's content; I knew that out of all his muscles, he was proud of his abs the most. As for me, the sight of the glistening beef was maddeningly inviting. It all but begged for my attention; I longed to wipe the precum off with my tongue, or perhaps to add to it. I was sure that, no matter how cut my friend became, I'd still be able to fill all available space between his abs with my cum. The thought nearly drove me wild and my dick throbbed alarmingly. I decided to turn my attention back to myself for the moment, and check out if my own six-pack had emerged yet. However, by this point my pecs had become rather too big, or perhaps my stomach too sucked in, or maybe even both. At any rate, I found it hard to see my abs properly just by looking straight down. I slowly rotated my torso this way and that, getting a better view of my shredded obliques. I ran each hand over my stomach, switching them between my cock and my body without ever breaking the rhythm. Sure enough, my palm rose and fell gently as it roamed over the cobblestone surface of my packed muscle. "Oh man, oh FUCK, this feels sooo GOODGHHH!" moaned my friend, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes tight, his teeth gritted in a savage grin. A moment later I realized why. The tank top's straps were sliding down the slopes of his rising traps, no longer dividing his shoulders into equal thirds. His frame was widening so quickly I almost expected to hear him creaking. Groaning, he rolled his shoulders forward, once, twice, three times, bucking his hips as he went. His delts rippled and bulged with every thrust, moulding themselves into veritable boulders of corded muscle fiber. I braced myself for the same sensation, but instead I felt my arms being inexorably pushed away as my lats started flaring up. Out and out they grew, as slow and unstoppable as a glacier. For a few moments, it seemed like they'd keep growing forever. Then, suddenly, it was as if a jet of flame shot up from each, rocketing up and out in a V-shape which blazed all over my back and shoulders. Then I, too, started to grow wider and thicker. Truthfully, it wasn't as bad as it looked from the outside. There was some pain, yes, but it only served to amplify the overwhelming waves of pleasure that accompanied it. Rather than the sensation of getting deformed or stretched, it felt more like I was being fitted into a mold, one that had been meant for me all along. I let out a long moan as my once loose sleeveless t-shirt rode up my rows of abs, hugging my sweat soaked body tighter and tighter. A feeling of belonging and contentment washed over me, and I briefly wondered if that was how bodybuilders felt when they had finally reached their dream stats. "Unngggnngghh!!" My friend's guttural grunt snapped me out of my brief reverie. Had it been my imagination, or was his voice just then deeper than he could have possibly made it himself? He gasped and swung his head forward, causing droplets of sweat to fly off his hair. His eyes were wild and unfocused. I could now see clearly his bulging traps, rising and falling with every breath...but mostly still rising. I have a soft spot for traps; since they're rather difficult to build compared to other muscles, I've always thought that a dude with nice developed traps is buff on a whole 'nother level. And now, I could feel my own traps emerging as well, my neck thickening between them. I cracked my neck to either side, feeling the satisfying snap and taking a good look at my own shoulders. FUCK they looked huge up close. I was sure that I could charge the door at that moment and take it off its hinges as if it were made of wet tissue paper. As if wanting to draw my admiring gaze back to him, my friend hunched over, letting loose another bestial growl and giving me a good view of his tapered back. He flexed it, hard, and waves of muscle undulated across it, making his skintight tanktop look like a dark sea ravaged by a storm. A short, sharp ripping sound, and then an island, a mountain, a volcano of muscular flesh erupted from the rift, rippling and then hardening like lava. I felt the incredible power he displayed welling up in the centre of my being, as well, building and building until its demand for expression became irresistible. I pulled my shoulders back and out, bringing my shoulderblades close, and for a moment my pecs stretched super tight against my shirt, scarring it with stress lines. "AH..." I moaned loudly, then: "UNGH!!!" as I reversed the movement, flaring out my back as much as possible. As I did, I could feel it wildly grow wider, straining but for a moment against my shirt before that, too, was anticlimactically ripped in two by my sheer size and mass and strength. The grey rag fluttered to the floor, leaving now both of our heaving torsos in full, glorious display. Incredibly, our legs had been able to support our top-heavy bodies all this time. Maybe it was the adrenaline we were no doubt soaking in at the moment? It seemed that even supernatural muscle growth had a tendency to overlook leg day. But now, they, too, were awakening. My legs started to inflate and bulge. Each individual muscle came to the fore, fighting with its brethren for space. I could feel the inside of my thighs starting to press against each other and I adjusted my stance. I shook my left leg, looking at the newly formed muscles from multiple angles. The ample mass of my quads jiggled and swayed. Then I abruptly stopped and flexed them, and they instantly popped, hard as diamonds. It's a good thing I had lowered my shorts to my ankles, or that would have been their end right there. Looking back at my bro, I saw that the gently rolling hills of his thighs had given way to granite mountain ranges, rivers of sweat running down them. Defying that well-known stereotype, my arms, despite the workout I had been giving them, largely felt and looked the same size as ever, now standing comically small next to my jacked upper body. That was just fine, though. The comparison emphasized even better just how big I'd gotten over the last few minutes and besides, they wouldn't be staying like that for much longer. Already I could see a vein protruding in each one, steadily pumping my heart's blood through them, just like I steadily kept pumping my fist over my steel rod of a dick. My thoughts strayed to the countless hours we had spent at the gym, and the natural, honest gains we'd earned as a result. That was all well and good, of course, but there was a lot to be said for growing so much, so quickly, as well. I mean, having an erection is awesome, but imagine always having just the one ever since adolescence, never experiencing the feeling of getting hard again. Knowing that I could feel myself transforming this way over and over, and that our real, hard-gained muscle would result in ever larger and more ripped bods whenever we felt like changing - well, that almost sent me over the edge. I summoned all my willpower, and with a muffled "Ngh!" I went back to edging with some difficulty. "How you doin', bro? Hangin' in there?" My friend's voice, strained and broken up by his panting as it may have been, was unmistakably deeper than before. Its sexy timbre and casual tone were making an admirable job of playing it cool, but one look at his eyes betrayed his concern for me. "Yeah", I shot back, amazed at my own husky voice. Had our voices changed in the past? At that point I was too horny to remember. "Fuckin' A..." he trailed off, the last syllable almost turning into a moan. "Ughhh...I love this!" he yelled. "Yeah!" I chimed in, emboldened by his sudden outburst. "I love this SO MUCH!" "I love it almost as much as I love you, dude!" he practically screamed. "Ι love you too, man!" I shouted back. We both knew that getting verbal was a sign that we were close to cumming, so we needed all the support we could get from one another to keep going, and finally grow each other's arms. While my bro favoured abs and I traps, arms was our common ground. As if they somehow knew this, our arms had started resisting growing too early during our sessions, leaving us with the best for last. They'd never held out this long before, though. We came closer slowly, eating up every inch of each other with our eyes. When we were next to each other, we stopped for a moment. Then, in one smooth motion, we both grasped each other's cock with our right hands. Our left hands grabbed each other's dick-stroking arms, and started feeling the muscles that had already started exploding all over them. Indeed, "explosion" is the only word that comes close to describing it. Waves of muscle erupted furiously, piling on top of one another, hardening into eye-watering definition, only for still more muscle to emerge, packing itself tighter and tighter, denser and denser, bigger and bigger. Our biceps doubled in size, then tripled, then grew beyond what I could be bothered to estimate. Our forearms flexed and twitched as we stroked and squeezed, fully expressing the awesome strength they now possessed. It was becoming too much to take it all in. Our bodies were starting to run out of growth space, but the growth itself still flowed forth from our cocks. With no place left to go, it started to work its magic there. My grip suddenly felt unfamiliar. My bro's junk shifted within my palm as it thickened and gained an inch, then another. I could feel my cock spasming with overwhelming power. Then, as I knew he would, I heard him voicing my thoughts: "Aw shit, dude. This - ahh, g-goddd! - this's it. I'm gonna - ohh fffuck - 'm gon' cum!" I threw my head back and my arms flew up into a double biceps. I could feel my peaks rising up, and up, and further up still. I tensed, flexing myself as hard as I could. A deep, primal roar sprang from within my chest, rising in volume and tone as it went. It was met by another roar, different but harmonious to my own. The two voices resonated, their vibrations almost visible in the air. It seemed to me that the very room started to tremble and shake. My eyelids fluttered open and I saw him there in front of me, flexing into a most muscular, every part of him huge, hard and cut. Our eyes met. Reflected within his I saw me. I saw both of us at the same time, each contained within the other, inseperable, two equal and complementary halves of perfection. And that's then we came. ... When we finally came to our senses, you won't be surprised to know that the room was a mess. About half the black foam had been soaked white, making it look a little like a cow had exploded all over the bare walls. The tarps had proven woefully inadequate in protecting the sound equipment, and no-one was going to leaf through any of the instruction manuals ever again. The hallway outside the PA Room was empty, our would-be assailants presumably having fled in terror quite a while ago. Although I didn't think they would share their story with anyone, much less that it would be believed, I still felt confident word would get around that we were not to be fucked with. I was still taking in the scene of devastation when my friend pointed at me, exclaiming, "Bro, what the fuck?!" With a pang of panic, I checked myself all over, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Ok, fine, nothing unexpected. As I straightened my head, though, it hit me. My eyes were level with the top of the bookcase. Up until a few minutes ago, they had been level with the top shelf. I hadn't noticed it because my friend had grown taller by the same amount. And the fact that our muscles still looked the same meant that they must have all grown proportionally at the same time. They'd never done that before. We looked at each other excitedly, fascinated by what this implied. After all, regular exercises made your muscles bigger and stronger as you kept at them. Why wouldn't this function in a similar way? Could it be that our ability to grow was...growing itself? My train of thought was interrupted by a jolt from my cock. I had to remind myself it had grown, too, since it looked proportionate to my now taller and larger body. It seemed as hard as ever. Of course, even in the past it could stay hard for quite a while after the fact, giving us ample time to enjoy our muscles in peace. But this time...it felt as if my boner would last quite a bit longer, if I was so inclined. In fact, it kinda felt even harder now. This realization was swiftly followed by one that had been screaming for my attention for a while. "Fuck, I'm...still horny." "Me too." "...Come on, let's really take care of these." "Thought you'd never say so."
  20. The Roommate By BBMikeNJ Part 1 My first semester at college started out in a pretty ordinary way. I had arrived at campus a week before classes started to meet the Biology professor, who I was going to be a lab assistant for. By the time most of the other students started to pour in, I was already familiar with my dorm, Elmwood Hall, and most of the campus. So when this big freak of a jock stopped me to ask directions, I was more than happy to help out. "Excuse me," he said, "can you tell me the way to Elmwood Hall?” Now, I'm 19 years old, 5'9", and weigh 170 lbs. solid. This guy looked about my age, but was about 6 feet tall, and at least 250 lbs. of muscle. His sweatshirt says "XXL" on the front, and is fitting him like a second skin. The sleeves are so tight I can see Veins. His delts were so oversized that at first I thought he had shoulder pads on. I knew that when I answer him, my mouth will move, but I'm not sure any sound will come out. "Sure," I managed to stammer, "just go around this first building here, and Elmwood is right behind it." "Thanks, man," he said, and strode off. I watched him saunter off in that confident jock way, and then zeroed in on the way his jeans highlighted his rolling, mounded glutes. Holy shit, I'd never seen anything like it. And then I thought of something. I didn't have a roommate assigned to me yet. What if.....nah, nothing that good ever happens to me. But hope springs eternal! I went off to the lab to get things set up. Classes started the next day, and I had a bunch of crap to do, but I couldn't get my mind of the super jock. I hurried to get things done and get back to the dorm. I had to know.... I powerwalked across campus, my heart pounding. I went into the dorm, and as I neared my door, I slowed down. I leaned my ear against the door and listened....someone was in there. I opened the door slowly and leaned in. It was him. Putting his shit away. Shirtless. His back was to me as he put stuff into his closet area. Or should I say his BBBAACCKKK. It was so wide and thickly mounded with muscle. His traps rested on top like an ox yoke. And he had that deep valley running down the middle, down to his tight as a drum lower back. As I stepped in, he heard me and turned around. "Hey, look who it is!" he said, all smiling. "Is this your room?" "Yeah...yours too?" I said, stupidly. "Hell yeah," he said. "Looks like we're bunkmates!" Holy fuck. My roommate was a massive, hulking musclehead. And nice as hell too. How was I going to survive this. "I noticed some of your books, man, you gotta be pretty bright." "Thanks," I said, "I'm here on an academic scholarship, so I try and fake it." "That's cool as hell. You might have to help me out with some of my classes, bro, ‘cause all I really care about is lifting and growing!" Oh my god in heaven. "It sure as hell shows," I said. "My name's Scott, by the way." "Hey Scott, Jack." He put out his hand and we shook. I couldn't help looking at his huge pec rippling as we shook, and the silver dollar-sized nips staring at me. "Yeah, man, I know it shows, I see people staring at it all the time. I fucking LOVE it." With that he put his hands on his big pecs, cupping them and hoisting them up and down, then slowly ran his hands down over his amazing 8-pack abs. "And I can't wait to get even Bigger!" "HHow much you weigh now?" I stammered. I could hardly breathe, and my cock was getting real curious to get a peak for itself. "Weighed in yesterday at 279. We need to get a mirror in here. I love to watch my progress. Aiming to hit 320 by the end of the semester." I sat down on my bed before my knees gave out. "That's over 40 pounds in four months, Jack. Won't some of that be fat?" "Nah," he said, "Everything I eat turns to muscle, always has." With that he sat on his bed across from me, and raised his arm into a bicep shot. My cock was throbbing and inching up and out. "You like that, don't you, Scott? Twenty-two inches cold. And I'm not even flexing it yet." I was getting nervous as hell. My cock was starting to force its head outta my pants....but then I realized, so was his. He was getting totally into his own freak arm, rolling his wrist to make the bicep rise and fall, the heavy musclebelly totally under his control. "Yeah, look at this monster, Scott." He flexed it over and over, slowly and purposefully, almost trance-like, as he stroked himself with his other hand. He was leaking pre all over himself and so was I. His arm was pumping up huge, and his forearm looked like a bowling pin snaked with veins. "Now watch this, boy," he said, and he tightened his arm as hard as he could....his huge bicep balled up bigger than ever, the deep bicep split separating the two biceps heads, the rear one rising up over the front one, the peak rising up big as a tennis ball. I hadn't even touched myself, but I came. and came. and came. And so did he. We shot at the exact same time. We're roomies. More to cum…
  21. College Finals By BBMikeNJ My first year as assistant professor at a large Midwestern university was coming to an end. Finals were in a few weeks, and things had gone pretty well for me, despite having to teach some remedial-level English courses. I didn't mind teaching to kids who had to struggle with their studies, but the class sized tended to be so large that it was difficult to offer much personal instruction. And because of that, I was worried that some of my students weren't going to pass. One of them was a big football player named Troy. Troy always sat in the very front row of the auditorium where I taught English 101a. He was the biggest student in the class by far, a strapping presence that was hard to ignore. I tried my hardest to look over him, to avoid his big jock good looks, his blond hair and blue eyes, his ease with his own physical superiority. Not that he seemed arrogant about it at all. Every time I did happen to make eye contact with him, he'd shoot me this big brilliantly white smile. Then he would furrow his brow, as if trying his hardest to concentrate on what I was saying. Seeing him sitting there with his legs spread apart like jocks with big legs tend to do. He tended to make me lose my train of thought, especially as the weather warmed, and he started wearing gym shorts to class. His calves were nearly the size of footballs, and were absurdly vascular. One time he shifted in his seat just as my eyes scanned by his calf. I blinked in awe as it balled up into a fist of thick sinew. I had to lean against my desk for support. The other day after class, Troy approached me as I gathered my papers from the desk. "Excuse me, Doc," he said to me, "can I talk to you?" It was a warm spring day, and he was wearing a tank top and football shorts, his hulkish muscularity nearly exploding out of every opening. He walked up so close to me that I could smell his scent, musky with testosterone, but also like fresh cut hay on a fine summer day, with a gentle breeze blowing in my direction. It took everything I had not to flare my nostrils out and breathe him in as deeply as possible. Although not technically a doc yet, as I was still working on my thesis, I didn't exactly correct him. "You can call me Doug," I said, much to my annoyance, since I had promised myself not to let the students call me by my first name. At 28, I was not much older than most of them, and thought that I should maintain a certain air of distinction. So much for that. "Ok, Doc," he said, completely ignoring my request. "Do you think there's anything I could do to raise my grade a little? I gotta pass this so I can come back for football this fall." He stood so close to me that I could feel the heat coming off of him. He was about 6" taller than my 5'11, and probably 70lbs heavier than my 180. He had gotten bigger and bigger throughout the semester, so maybe more than 70. And up this close, his hair was even blonder than I'd realized. He was asking me to help him get a better grade, yet he carried no book and had never taken any notes in class. I knew he was failing, and it was unlikely that there was anything I could legitimately do to help him pass. But I heard myself say, "Come up to my office at 3 o'clock, and we'll see what we can do." "Ah, thanks Doc, I knew you'd come thru for me," he said, as he grabbed my hand and shook it. He put both his hands, big like mitts, around my hand, his fingers thick and calloused, shaking my arm earnestly, grinning at me with teeth that would make snow envy its whiteness. "I'll be there right at 3." Then he turned and walked away. As he walked up the steps of the auditorium, I stared at his big muscle ass, the kind that only football players seem to develop, thick, wide, and high, nearly bursting with power. I stood leaning against my desk for a few moments after he left. I imagined him stripping off his tank top and tossing it to me, still hot with his sweat. I saw myself burying my face in his tank and breathing in deeply as he stood in front of me shirtless, his thickly muscled torso bulging from weightlifting and football practice. I saw him raise his arms and flex them, and his big grin spreading across his face as he watched me breathe in his musk. Then I thought about 3 o'clock. I shook my head and pushed myself away from the desk. What had I gotten myself into? More to cum…
  22. BrawnyBound

    The Flashback Machine

    Part 1: "You, uh, need a hand carrying that in?" Bruce asked. He scratched his balding head as he watched Aaron haul the enormous piece of equipment all by himself. Aaron simply grunted in response. Despite being in his 50's, he managed to retain most of his hard-earned muscles from his college days through diligent training. And even though he could barely wrap his meaty arms around the length of the monitor, Aaron showed no struggle carrying the machine into the frat house. "I think he's got it," Philip replied lamely. The two watched as Aaron's wide back disappeared into the dark building. Aaron was dressed in a tank top and basketball shorts that hugged his rugged body nicely, and was probably one of the few among his alumni brothers that could pull off that look so casually. Bruce, for example, was a victim among many with his slowing metabolism and widening beer belly. He sighed as he mentally compared himself to Aaron and glanced down at the gut stretching his dress shirt, subconsciously tucking his thumbs under suspender straps. Philip, however, had the opposite problem. He was never able to gain much weight for as long as he remembered. He was so thin his brothers used to joke that he could easily hide behind a telephone pole without having to turn. Even now, Philip looked at his own loose, billowing semi-formal clothes, feeling like he could blow away if the wind wanted him to. The two were broken out of their self-loathing by the sound of a soft thud coming from inside the frat house. They filed in, Philip tracing his hand on the wall for the light switch. Bruce couldn't help but notice a musty smell in the humid air. With a flick, the main room of the frat house they once called home lit up around them. It was surprisingly tidy, although that was only because it was still summer, and most of the fraternity brothers were still on vacation. The furniture, walls, and floors, however, could not hide their age no matter how well-kept it was. Aaron had his arms on his hips as he stood by a cluster of old sofas with his device plopped down in the center facing them. "Well, I told ya the house was still standing." "Barely." Bruce remarked, glancing at the peeling paint on the walls. "It's a surprise to see they haven't made plans on remodeling, or hell, getting a new house altogether." Philip said, grimacing at the old stains on the floor. "That's why I invited you guys here. Since you guys both said you'll be too busy for homecoming-" "Work." Bruce grunted. "Family vacation." Philip chimed in. Aaron held his hands up in mock-surrender. "I know, I know. But since you guys will be pre-occupied like you are every year, I wanted to discuss the alumni dues so that we can-" Bruce groaned. "/That's/ why you invited us here? I thought we were going to hang and catch up over beer and football like old times." He tried to cross his arms but failed so he put his hands on his hips like Aaron did; though he seemed much less intimidating. Philip rolled his eyes. He looked like he was already thinking of excuses to get out of this situation. "Now hold on, hold on." Aaron said, his voice firm. "We /are/ going to catch up. I /know/ alumni dues are completely voluntary, and I /know/ that we're all building up our savings for early retirement like the next guy. But I want to give back to the organization that helped make me who I am today." Bruce could swear he saw Aaron puff up his chest a little. "And I thought," Aaron continued, "what better way to show why we should care about the future generations than to present them on this invention." He patted the top of the strange monitor. Bruce took a closer look at the machine. It somewhat resembled a CRT television, but the frame was purple and translucent. 'Like the special edition GameBoy Color,' Bruce thought. 'Did old TV's always have so many wires?' On top of the monitor, a bundle of multi-colored wires from the back collected together and funneled into the small end of what seemed to be an old-fashioned ear trumpet made of copper. The large end of the ear trumpet faced the front like a strange speaker. Below the screen, instead of buttons or dials there was an exhaust vent of some sort. Bruce thought it was strange as those little holes were usually on the back. The portly man gave a bemused smirk. "Come on Aaron, we may be old but even /I/ know this is junk. The boys are gonna laugh at your sad excuse of a donation." "I didn't know you still 'invented' things," said Philip with a stifled chuckle. "Yeah I thought you gave up on making those silly doo-hickeys freshman year," Bruce added. Aaron's proud stance faltered for a moment as he nervously glanced at the unplugged machine, then looking visibly relieved. "It's not for watching football or anything like that," he said. "It's-" he paused, thinking for a second. "It's a device that lets us replay our favorite memories on screen." Without further hesitation he crouched around the 'doo-hickey' and got to work plugging everything in. "Here, let me show you." The two guests looked at each other with skepticism. If this was a chance to make fun of another one of Aaron's failed inventions, they didn't want to miss it. 'Just like old times,' thought Bruce. Philip tapped his foot impatiently and Bruce huffed as he sat down on one of the couches right in the middle. Bruce couldn't help but stare at what Aaron was currently "showing" as his pert ass shifted and swayed in those stretched-out shorts while the TV was being set up. Suddenly realizing that he wasn't alone, Bruce glanced at Philip, who met eyes with him. He was caught in the act. Philip started to say something when the TV suddenly lit up and presented nothing but static and a soft *kssshhhh* noise. "There!" Aaron announced. The three of them stared at the screen, waiting in anticipation. "Soooo... now what?" Said Philip. About two seconds later, the screen changed to show the main room of the frat house, but from Philip's point of view. "Soooo... now what?" His voice mimed from the screen. "Woah! How'd you do that?" Philip exclaimed, whirling around and checking himself for a hidden camera. The screen copied his words and spun around with him. "Big deal. It can record and play a live feed," Bruce grumbled. The TV instantly changed and was now showing the room from Bruce's perspective. His replayed voice sounded equally unimpressed. "It- it can also play whatever memory we request," Aaron added, his voice sounding slightly panicked. He took a quick breath and then continued more calmly. "Right now, it's playing whatever surface level memories are presented from the last person that spoke." And on cue, the TV replayed his explanation. "Okay, take it away, Mr. Inventor." Bruce gestured to the screen. Aaron's eyes glimmered for a moment before facing the monitor. The machine repeated Bruce, almost as if to give Aaron permission to use it himself. Aaron straightened himself up and spoke clearly into the ear trumpet. "Show us my sophomore year Halloween party." The lights above flickered as the screen sputtered between static and blurred images as if a poorly-focused time lapse video was being played. After a few moments, the screen became clearer, and the trio was presented with the sight of a veiny, pumped forearm pushing a door open to reveal the frat house's main room, garishly decorated with an assortment of Halloween props, lit by blinding orange, green, and purple strobe lights. The new furniture was pushed to the walls as the center floor was brimming with bodies shaking to the music and hands exploring wherever they landed. Several people, to the shock of the viewers, were recognized as their old fraternity brothers. Except they were all young and carefree, some dancing, some flirting with sorority girls, and some doing things their parents probably wouldn't approve of. Most of the party goers were dressed, if you could call it that, in costumes that showed as much skin as possible. "Hey! There's me!" Bruce pointed at the screen. Young Bruce was no exception. Sloppily painted head-to-toe in green and clad in purple trunks, the man was quite a hunk. While not the tallest brother in the fraternity, he was definitely one of the biggest, and he liked to flaunt it. Even then, he had the slight hint of a beer gut beginning to emerge underneath his cut abs. Old Bruce thought it was strange seeing his young self acting so... fratty, but didn't complain with what he saw. The chicks loved him. And he loved them. As if hearing his thoughts, the younger and slimmer version of Bruce eyed the screen and his face lit up. He hollered something over the loud music and waved. The "camera" bobbed up and down in response as it made it's way through the house, greeting the brothers and other party guests in a similar gesture. The screen seemed to pan in every direction, as if looking for someone, until it landed on Philip. "And there's me." Philip gasped, now sitting. The screen advanced on Young Philip who was leaning with his back and one foot against the wall, one hand in his pocket, and holding a cup of spiked punch in the other. He meekly raised his cup at the screen with a small smile and then took a sip, staring back at the crowd. Unlike the others, he was dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks. "Hah! Phil you look like you haven't changed a bit. You're still as skinny as you were so many years ago!" Bruce guffawed and slapped his knee, clearly enjoying his jabs at Philip, who now looked like he wanted to be swallowed up by the sofa cushions. "Actually," Aaron began, "I think he's been looking a lot healthier." They both stared at him, puzzled. "I mean, you really packed on quite a bit of muscles since then. It's- it's all because of that diet and weight training routine you started in sophomore year wasn't it?" The lights flickered slightly but nobody paid mind to it. Bruce couldn't see anything in his peripheral vision for a brief moment. When the light returned, he turned to look at his brother again. "Phil-" Bruce started, but his jaw dropped. Beside him was still his fraternity brother, only he seemed different. His clothes were not loose, his posture oozed confidence, and his presence was more notable. It was like he had a stronger gravitational pull. "Wha-" Bruce tried to speak, but suddenly it felt like two plus two didn't equal four. "Actually," Aaron said again, "Bruce was right about one thing," he spoke slowly. "Phil, you don't look a day over twenty-five. Not a single wrinkle on that baby-face of yours. How'd you do it? Was it the skin care brand you work for?" He paused, glancing at the screen. "It was your investment in that company when you finished your major in business, wasn't it? You mentioned you were interested in it at this party, I think." The ceiling lights dimmed, then turned back to normal. "Yea I... Oh, I think our young selves are talking about it right now!" Philip directed his attention back to the TV. Bruce tore his eyes from Philip's body and looked at the screen. Sure enough, the camera was now half-watching the party and half-turned to Philip as young Aaron spoke with him. The camera seemed to peer down at Aaron's feet or look at the party whenever Philip smiled or laughed. Aaron whistled and sat back on the other neighboring couch. "Wow, I guess I never noticed it back then, but that workout plan really did wonders on your body early on, too." Aaron murmured. "It's a good thing you never broke your habit from the routine." . The lights flickered harshly this time. Bruce watched, rapt as the camera blinked and then focused on young Philip and his B-list superhero costume, the sexy version of course, now standing proudly on his own two feet and towering over Aaron. He was animatedly talking about his career plans, but his bare abs seemed to be the new point of emphasis for the camera. It wandered to the small but firm pecs wrapped tight in spandex along with his disproportionately huge upper arms and bulging legs. Bruce felt something stirring underneath his gut. He shook his head. 'Wait, wasn't Philip dressed in...' His train of thought halted at the sight of the hulking stud next to him. Philip was now leaning back, his gorilla-like arms slightly akimbo from his wide lats. His dress shirt was trying to keep everything together, but it looked like the buttons would pop if he simply took a deep breath. It stretched obscenely over his rounded, stuffed pecs and shoulders that were bigger than his own head. Even his traps rose above the couch cushions. The slacks did not look like they were faring any better as Bruce could make out the separations in the quadriceps through the thin fabric. "It all comes at a price, though," Philip mused, looking down at himself. "One of the side effects of the lotion is that it removes any body hair, permanently. Good thing I never need to moisturize my pits." He raised both arms overhead; two rips slowly drawn out as his lats pushed their way out from the constricting shirt. More rips were heard in quick succession as the sleeves tore apart between his biceps and triceps and from his shoulders. And he was right: while completely hairless anywhere else except for the curly locks on his head, his cavernous armpit still had some tufts of hair. "Ahh, that felt so good. Which reminds me," he continued, lowering his beefy arms, "it also makes everything really sensitive." He spread his legs and pushed them forward a little, the bulge in his groin swelling bigger and bigger. Bruce gulped at the lewd display. 'Was Philip making a pass because of what he saw earlier?' "It's a good thing," Aaron started, trying to find his words, "it's a good thing nobody ever minded how much or how little clothing you wore." Morph by Hardtrainer01 "That's true." Philip nonchalantly agreed, grabbing a handful of his overflowing underwear and scratching his exposed pecs. "Besides, finding clothes that would fit me is such a bother." He raised one arm to play with his hair, but every little movement sent his 20+ inch biceps bouncing, inviting Bruce to stare. "I bet you have a similar problem with clothes, huh Bruce?" "Uh, huh?" Bruce now realized he spent the better half of the last few moments drooling over Phil's smooth, jacked body. His hefty cock was still plumping up and clearly visible through the underwear, and his nipples, free from any constraints, already looked erect. Suck-able, even. "Yea- I mean- no. Not quite. You two can easily shop at the Big and Tall store; I just shop at Big." The brothers chuckled at this, then returned their attention to the monitor. Bruce tried to as well, but his gut was telling him that something was very wrong, and looking at Philip might shed some light. It wasn't because he was insanely hot and practically inviting him to do gay shit. No, maybe if he looked long enough he would figure it out. But Phil's sideways glance and smirk was all that was needed to make the man blush and turn back to the screen. He liked ladies, damnit! He has a wife at home! And speaking of ladies, he watched with reassurance as the sorority girls flocked to young Bruce and felt up his muscles. "Bro, I just realized why you picked this year's party." Bruce sat up and grinned at Aaron. "This was the fucking year we invited every single sorority sister-" "Sisters' polyamorous boyfriends!" Aaron finished. "Dude, what- no. We..." The lights flickered. Once, twice, and on the third time a bulb broke somewhere behind them. When Bruce turned to look back at the screen, he didn't see any sorority girls around him. Instead he was now sulking near the camera with Aaron and Philip, absentmindedly sipping from his punch. The dance floor was still populated by a couple college girls, but most of them were taken. Young Philip and young Aaron sounded like they were trying to cheer him up, keeping him company. Bruce was touched that he had such an unbreakable bond with them. Whenever they rough-housed, Bruce always ended up being sandwiched between their testosterone-laden bodies. On the outside, he was just another straight macho bro. But between those two towering studs, Bruce was putty in their hands. He fantasized about women, sure, but nothing made him harder than the thought of Aaron's funky gym smell rubbing off on him as he pilfered his roommate's dirty stretched-out laundry, or Philip's sweaty and pumped body, fresh from his rigorous workout, pressed against his during a wrestling match. And while other brothers were skeptical that he never found a wife, Aaron and Philip never once gave him shit for it. Even though he trusted them with anything about his life, he'd never let them know how hot and bothered they made him whenever they were around. Even now, Bruce swore under his breath as he felt the cool tingle at the tip of his dick, a spurt of pre-cum leaking into his trousers. "Well, it made sense, considering how our fraternity only recruits bi and gay men." Aaron explained. "Wait, what?" To be continued... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hey everyone! Thank you for all your kind comments on my last story. I was recently inspired again, and wanted to play around with a genre that I've always enjoyed: reality changing. I didn't really do as much scene-hopping as I did with my other story, and my writing in the 3rd person (limited) is still a little rusty, but I hope that the pacing and language comes across smoothly. I realized as I started writing that this couldn't be a one-shot like my last story, however. The ideas just keep coming! So this will split into several parts. Feedback is always welcomed, and hit that follow button to- *lights out*
  23. pasidious

    Jolias Finally Lets Go

    No one within the following narrative is below the age of 18. Jolias is a character owned by another person, @MadMutter, and is being used here with permission (admittedly late). There is no muscle-growth within this first section, but there will be a build-up. And it will happen. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The first time I laid eyes upon him, my whole world came to a screeching halt. ...Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration. But who doesn't use a bit of poetic license when they describe a guy they not only find beautiful, but insanely hot? He was in my American History class during my first ever semester of college. That first day. And it was the night class, too. Only held once a week, but lasted almost three hours long. I'd already had one day of classes, Monday, and then Tuesday my schedule weirdly only had a single class. That one night class. It was weird walking to a classroom building at 5:45pm. I was already on a form of auto-pilot, just letting my legs guide me to my next scheduled college activity so I could get it over with. I remember entering the room and the professor was overly enthusiastic about greeting each student as we walked in. He didn't even look like a professor, either. Relatively young guy who wore casual clothes like he was just going on a trip to the supermarket. Which, honestly, helped me stay relaxed about what to expect. I usually expect professors to be stiff and boring and strict. But, the professor greeted me and handed me a syllabus personally, and I did a brief glance at it as I allowed my legs to continue to guide me to a seat in the back of the room. But then I had to stop and realize the amount of us in the class seemed kind of small, and I'd definitely be the very odd one out if I chose a seat in the back while everyone else was several seats in front of me. And the professor would surely ask me to sit closer anyway. So I did a bit of a half-spin and selected a seat close to where I was already standing. I dropped my satchel on the floor. Gently, of course, and took the seat. Now, being a bit of an introvert, I always try to avoid making any type of eye-contact with others when in a new environment. So, up until this point, I hadn't even actually looked at a single other student in the room. I knew they were there through periphery, but I wasn't actually paying any real attention to them. Until now. I had my new syllabus on top of my desk, and I was about to get my still clean notebook out of my satchel to prepare for the class when I caught a glimpse of the dude who was sitting right next to me. I sort of did one of those double-take things. Like, I looked at him, then back down at where I needed my hands to go, and then my heart thudded in my chest and my eyes immediately went back to where they'd briefly landed before. He was just... casually sitting in his seat. His notebook was already on his desk, and he was fiddling with the pen in his right hand, letting it flip between his fingers. His eyes were looking forward, and it was clear he was just zoned out, waiting for the beginning of the class. He was wearing a light hoodie that zipped all the way up and down, and he didn't have it zipped at all. And his T-shirt was orange, a stark but aesthetic contrast with his dark green hoodie. His complexion was dark, and I could see he had these cute freckles on his face beneath his eyes. His uniquely red eyes. Those were what really drew my attention. Red eyes. I felt my heart thudding in my chest as I looked him over. He had a small nose that fit his face perfectly, and his hair was this shaggy, long-ish dark brown that somewhat covered his ears. And he had on these amazing light blue jeans that were perfectly clinging to his legs, showing off the contours of them without being ridiculously tight. He was beautiful. And sexy. Hot. And it was like... imagine having a TV screen that gets cracked into a thousand little lines all over it, except for one single spot that's still intact and clear. That was my new vision. And he was the only thing in that one clear spot. But then the entire screen shattered when... "'Sup dude?" Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. My attention had been on him for so long he understandably noticed the weirdo next to him staring at him. I immediately diverted my attention elsewhere, anywhere, and uttered a swift "Hey." I heard him chuckle as I shuffled through my satchel to finally get my notebook out. But that was it. He didn't say anything else. The class began and we went through the usual first day things. Of course, it went well beyond that, since this one class was the equivalent of three regular classes. But the entire time, throughout the professor's lecturing and assigning of work, I couldn't help but steal glances at the dude next to me. He diligently took notes and would sometimes doodle in his notebook. He definitely had this smoldering quality. A certain type of heat resonating from his sexiness. And I just so badly wanted my hands, my lips all over his body. His presence alone, knowing that this beautiful guy was next to me was so enrapturing that I hadn't even noticed that I was painfully hard. And I mean painfully. My average sized cock was so hard and pressed against the confines of my pants that it had begun to hurt. The throbbing had reached a point that I could no longer ignore it, and it sent jolts up my body that I finally had to notice. I imagined him coming to my dorm. Entering through the door and shutting it swiftly behind him. Walking confidently in, almost strutting, smirking at me as I lay in my bed, and elegantly in one cool move pulling his shirt over his head and revealing a sexy body underneath, tight pecs and abs and toned arms, tossing his shirt to the side like it's just garbage, and pouncing on me. We become interlocked with each other, our hands exploring each other's bodies, kissing everywhere, and every so often locking lips, running our hands through each other's hair. And before long our pants are off, our hard throbbing cocks rubbing together as we press ourselves into one another, wanting so badly to become one. He presses down on my shoulders, pushing himself up, his tight pecs clenching together, and he simply smirks at me, his blazingly hot and simultaneously cute face making me quiver, and he reaches back and lifts my legs up, positioning himself to enter my hole. I close my eyes, his throbbing rod, eight inches of hard, pure sex about to plunge into my ass where it belongs. And as soon as his tip makes contact... "Yo!" I'm startled out of my little daydream, immediately and first noticing my crotch feels wet and my cock is still painfully hard. But then I notice eyes on me, and the professor himself is the one who called out to get my attention. I'd been leaking pre so profusely I felt like I'd actually blown my load. "You okay there, bud?" I was shaken, to say the least, but also embarrassed that I'd allowed myself to become so entrenched in my own daydream that I'd forgotten I was even in a class. And the object of my fantasy was still sitting right beside me, his eyes also upon me, and I could see through my peripheral vision that he had a seemingly amused look on his face. So embarrassing. I wanted to just disappear. Not just die, but to cease from existing. "Uhhh..." I managed to get out, frantically searching in my brain for some sort of plausible explanation for my zoning out. But the professor saved me from myself. "I know this is boring, but we're almost done. Try 'n' get some more rest for next class, yeah?" he said, a kind smile on his face but a sternness in his voice. And then he glanced around the entire room and spoke further on the matter, "I know it's an unusual time for a class and for probably all of you the first time you've ever had such a late class. Be prepared and rested!" And then he continued with his lecturing. Still embarrassed, I sat there, focusing on the front of the room and listening to the professor speak. I didn't even want to acknowledge the godly presence next to me, but my still hard, throbbing, and now wet dick was a stark reminder. And I noticed he kept glancing at me every few minutes. I still wanted to disappear. If there was even a small chance he was gay, there was an even lesser chance he'd ever be into me now. I imagined I'd have greater luck being struck by lightning twice in the same day while winning the lottery. But my cock just never calmed down. *** "Yo dude, wait up." I was attempting to scurry away and back to my dorm before I got caught in any conversation with literally anyone from that class which might potentially involve the topic of my weird escape from reality. I had to tie my hoodie around my waist to hide the blatantly obvious wet spot that had formed. And it was hard to do while still sitting down since the desk itself was still obscuring the sight of it. I heard the voice calling to me, but I desperately hoped it was directed at someone else. I had no intention of talking to anyone. But then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was so close to exiting the building. So who the hell wanted to chat? Well, of course it was none other than the very object of my fantasy. The one guy who'd ever sent me into such a horny torrent of imagination in my entire life to this point. My heart was rapidly sinking and I once again wanted to disappear as though I never even existed. He grasped my shoulder and actually had to spin me a little since my subconscious was forcing me to pretend I heard and felt nothing. But when I was forced to face him, I was no longer within reach of an escape option. "You alright, man?" he asked, looking into my face with what appeared to be genuine concern. "Uhh, yeah... thanks," I muttered. I wasn't at all sure of how to even respond properly to make him go away. "You don't seem like it, though. I've seen daydreaming before, but you were almost like... in a coma or something." 'Oh if you only knew what I was daydreaming about,' I thought to myself. But then my heart thudded in my chest when I realized he knew I was daydreaming and not simply zoned out. What else did he notice?! I tried to play it cool. "You're perceptive as hell, man. How'd you know I was daydreaming?" I tried to smile. "Just the look on your face. Your expression kept changing." But then he smirked. "And, uh, it was hard to ignore the tent you were pitchin'." FUCK. So he noticed that. But... he was looking. At my crotch. Which means... might he be gay? "Just... horny is all," I tried to coolly say. "Been a while, know what I mean?" "Yeah, sure..." he muttered, still grinning a little. We then stood there in an awkward silence, and I began searching for a way to end the interaction so I could get back to my dorm and take care of... business. My cock was still hard as a lead pipe. But then he spoke. And I was completely shocked by what he said. "Wanna get a bite?" I almost had to shake myself from the disbelief. I know, I know... I'm being dramatic. People get food together all the time. But with him?! Why would he want to get food with me? "Err, uh..." "Dude, come on, you gotta be hungry. That class took forever." "I guess," I unenthusiastically replied, and realized I'd better change my tone. This dude is hot. And super cool, at least so far. And the first person to reach out in any way that indicated an attempt at friendship since I've been at this school. Which, admittedly, hasn't been long, but I can't come across as antisocial. "I mean..." I stammered, "Yeah! I'm hungry as shit. Where you wanna go?" He giggled a little, "Duh, dude, the Den?" The Den is the name of the school cafeteria. "Isn't that closed? Pretty sure they close at 8." I saw his eyes widen before clenching them shut. "Shit, yeah, forgot they close. Ain't used to this late class thing." "What's nearby?" "I dunno, I think maybe a Denny's? I swear I saw one up the street." I took out my phone and did a search for a Denny's in the surrounding area. And sure enough, there was one right up the street just outside of the campus grounds. We could walk there. "Yeah, yeah... There's a Denny's up the street from here. We could walk there, if you want." "Sweet," he said, a smile spreading on his face. "Let's go!" "Don't you wanna, y'know, drop your stuff off at your dorm?" I asked. "Nah, dude, it'll take too long. I'm hungry now," he excitedly stated. He then surprised the shit out of me by grabbing my forearm and pulled me out through the doors of the building. "Where we going?" he asked, letting go of my arm. I looked at my phone again to get a bearing. "This way," I stated, and began walking. And he suddenly appeared at my side. "Jolias, by the way," he said, nudging his shoulder into mine. I noticed for the first time, finally, that he was actually shorter than me. I was already kind of short, in my opinion, at 5'9". He was maybe two inches shorter. I initially imagined him taller, but now he seemed even cuter. And still sexy as hell. "Mike," I said, responding with my own name. And my cock continued to throb in time with our steps.
  24. Hey y'all. Long time reader. First time Writer. Here's a little story I've been working on while I'm bored in quarantine. Part 2 will be coming very soon. Hope y'all enjoy. Chapter 1: Making Plans It had been a long quarantine for Collin and Sam. With all of their classes being moved online and them being locked in their tiny house together, they were getting a bit stir crazy. With Collin being at high risk with his asthma, and Sam wanting to protect his friend and roommate, the two of them hadn’t really left the house except for groceries and the occasional errand that Sam would run. Each of them had enrolled at the local college and met their freshmen year. They met at a party one night and started talking and became fast friends. Every year since then, they had been roommates together in a small house they rented. Now, juniors in college, they are stuck in the house with each other. Luckily, it was looking like their long quarantine would be coming to an end. The governor of their state had slowly been reopening stores and restaurants. With the country appearing to go back to normal, they thought it was appropriate to have some friends over at the very least. “Oh, come on Collin. I know you are worried about this pandemic, but we have been cooped up in this house for over three months. With everything reopening, I think that we can at least begin to see our friend group again,” said Sam trying to convince his roommate to let his friends back into their life. “It doesn’t even need to be the whole group. It can just be a few of them.” Sam walked into the kitchen of their small house to grab a snack. “I don’t know Sam. I’m just worried about the possibility of any of them bringing the virus to us,” said Collin as he sat down on their couch in the living room. “We are going to be exposing ourselves to whatever they have come in contact with.” “But you’ve already been exposed to the outside world,” said Sam as he sat down in the chair facing Collin. “I go to the grocery store once a week or so and then I come home. How is me going shopping less dangerous than our friends coming over to see us?” “You’ve been staying safe. You don’t leave the house besides going shopping. We don’t know where they’ve been. They could’ve gone to restaurants or bars for all we know. I trust that you’re being safe. I don’t trust them.” Sam leaned back in his chair crossing his arm. Clearly disappointed by his friend’s aversion to the slightest bit of human contact. Sam’s face lit back up with an idea. “What if we can make sure they social distance for at least two weeks? The 4th of July is coming up two weeks from this Saturday, if all of our friends could social distance for those two weeks, could we have a barbeque?” Sam gave Collin the biggest puppy dog face imaginable. Accentuating his big blue eyes to drive the point home. He knew Collin couldn’t resist the face. After a moment of thinking, Collin finally surrendered to his roommate’s begging. “Ugh, fine. If you can get all of them to social distance for two weeks, we can have them all over for the 4th.” Sam jumped up from his seat with glee. “Woohoo! You won’t regret this bud! We are gonna have so much fun!” Sam gave Collin an excited side hug and ran into his room to get his phone and texted everyone who was still in town. Collin watched as Sam ran off to his room with a slight smile on his face to see him so happy, but it faded into worry for what might happen if his friends fail. Sam presented the obstacle to the group and they were all on board. He took a head count and requests from everyone for what they would like served. Sam said that he would cook everything and they’d Venmo him their share. This way there would be less people preparing the food. A couple weeks went by and Sam went out the Friday before to get all of the food they were going to need. With twelve people to cook for, Sam would have his work cut out for him. On the menu were burgers, chips and dip, mac n cheese, jalapeño poppers, and Sam’s homemade chocolate pudding. He bought everyone a few different types of beer and some seltzers for the nonbeer drinkers. He wanted to go all out for this get together if it was going to be the first one after months of isolation. As he was shopping for ingredients for the dishes, he came across a fun spice kit. It was a six-piece spice set that read “Spice Up Your Life”. None of the spices seemed familiar to Sam but he thought ‘What the hell? With the way my life is going, I’m gonna need all the spice I can get.’ He grabbed the kit and continued shopping. He arrived home and started unloading the groceries. “Hey Collin!” Sam shouted from the kitchen. “You mind running out to my car and grabbing the rest of the groceries?” Collin groaned in protest but reluctantly got up from his bed and came out to help Sam. Coming into the kitchen, he saw all of the food that Sam had already brought in. “You have more food in the car? This is enough food to feed a village for a week and we’re having 10 people over for one afternoon,” Collin said with shock. “We can have leftovers if we have to,” said Sam, getting out various bowls, plates, and cutting boards for the preparation of the food. “Besides, you could easily eat all of this food by yourself in one sitting,” said Sam gesturing toward the slight gut that his friend had gained since the quarantine began. “I haven’t put on that much weight, have I?” Collin looked down at his slightly bulging belly and rubbed it. “Well there is a reason why I have to go to the store every week instead of waiting longer.” Sam walked over and smacked his friend’s stomach and watched it jiggle a bit after. “But there’s nothing wrong with that. You normally live in the gym and eat the same diet while we’re in our normal life. It’s just your calorie needs have gone down, but your intake hasn’t,” said Sam with more sincerity in his tone. “I guess you’re right,” Collin said with a bit of sadness for his lack of gym routine. He normally was a buff stud. But he had put on that COVID 19 and his muscles have deflated a bit from his normal jock physique. He sulked for a second and then proceeded to go get the rest of the groceries. “Hey, don’t get down about it bud. I’m gonna tell you the same thing you told me the night we met. “I always love a little more cushion for the pushin’”,” said Sam with a wink and slapped his roommate’s ass. “Now go get the food. I have a lot to do if we want everything ready for tomorrow.” Collin smiled and grabbed the rest of the groceries. Sam had wished he could repeat the night they met. But he knew not to get his hopes up too much. Sam carried on cooking and prepping for the barbeque. He was going through his groceries and saw the spice kit he had randomly thrown in his cart. He opened it up and saw the six spices. Each seemed to have their own specific color of the rainbow for each flavor. Sam divided each flavor up to a specific dish that he’d prepare. But that left him with one spice left over, purple. He didn’t know what to do with it. So he stowed it in the pantry for another day. After what felt like hours of preparing, everything was ready to be cooked tomorrow. Collin walked out of his room to see all of the food. “Ooooo is that your world famous homemade chocolate pudding?!?” said Collin, reaching out his finger toward the giant bowl only to have it batted away by Sam. “Yes, it is, and you can’t have any. It’s famous for a reason. Everyone loves it and I want to make sure everyone gets some tomorrow.” “Oh come on Sam. Just a little finger? Pretty please?” Collin said trying to use Sam’s own begging trick against him. Trying to slouch down to Sam’s shorter height to really sell it. “Hey no fair. That’s my trick,” said Sam with a bit of a chuckle. “Alright. If you really want some, the spoon is sitting over there on the counter. Just finish up before I put everything into the dishwasher.” Collin beamed with delight. “You’re the best.” He walked over to the counter with joy in his steps. He picked up the spoon and sat down at their dining room table. Licking the spoon and loving every second of it. “Mmmm. You really should make this more often. It’s become one of my favorite desserts ever since you’ve started making it.” “I know. Everyone loves it, but it just takes me forever to make it.” Sam began washing the dishes while talking with his roommate. “Yeah, but you won’t let anyone help you since it’s your family’s secret recipe.” Collin standing up quickly from the table feeling a bit of heft to his body that he was not used to. He walked over to put his now spotless spoon in the sink for his roommate to wash. “And it’s staying that way. If you wanna try and recreate it, be my guest.” After Collin put away his spoon, he began grazing the counter for any other treats he could snack on. He saw that Sam had already finished making the dip for tomorrow. He reached into the pantry and grabbed some chips. Shoveling out the dip and into his mouth. Letting out the occasional “Mmm”. “Hey. The dip might not be as well renowned as the pudding, but I’d still like to serve it tomorrow,” said Sam grabbing the dip and hoisting it in the fridge. “You’re no fun.” Collin put his chips back in the pantry with defeat. “Can you at least make me something that I can eat?” “Do I look like your mother? No. You’re a grown ass man. You can cook your own food,” said Sam as he went back to cleaning the dishes. “Pleeeeeease Sam? I’m letting you have this barbeque. Just make one sandwich for me.” Collin again went down to Sam’s level and gave him the puppy dog face. Quivering his lip every now and then for dramatic effect. “You’re getting way too good at that. Fine, I’ll make you a sandwich.” “Again, you’re the best.” “Yeah yeah yeah. Just get me out everything you want on it. I’m almost done with the dishes and then I’ll make it.” Collin grabbed bread, cheese, and butter. He was wanting a grilled cheese, but not your average one. He also pulled out some jalapeños, some bacon and even grabbed a spice that Sam was using before. “Got it. Now what?” “Why don’t you start cooking the bacon and slicing the jalapeños? I’m almost done with the dishes and I’ll cook it for you after that.” Collin did as he was told. Frying the bacon and dicing up the jalapeños while dashing bits of spice onto them. “Alright everything’s ready. Done with the dishes yet?” “Almost. Why don’t you grill it and I’ll eat it when I’m done?” “You’ve been done with dishes for a while now, haven’t you?” Collin said while throwing his sandwich on the skillet. “And you didn’t cook all day, did you?” “I retract my previous statement. You are no longer the best.” He picked up his sandwich and took it to the dining room “Nope. I’m better.” Sam walked in and joined his roommate with a banana to eat. “So how has everyone done in terms of keeping their distance?” asked Collin between bites. “From what I can tell, good. I don’t have ankle bracelets on them so there’s no real way to know, but from what they’ve said, they have been.” “They’d better.” Collin said getting up to put his plate away. As Collin got up, Sam noticed his shirt was riding up a little more on his belly. Nothing too severe, but it definitely bulged out from his body a little more. Sam followed him into the kitchen and threw his banana peeled into the trash. “Need anything else before I head to bed?” “Maybe just help me put everything away,” said Sam as he walked by his roommate to make room in the fridge for everything he’d prepared. He turned around to grab the food only to see his roommate’s pecs right in his face. ‘That’s odd. Normally I’m eye level with Collin’s chin.’ “Hey Collin, did you get taller?” Collin looked down at his roommate. He’d always been a few inches taller than him, but Sam was looking particularly small tonight. “I doubt it. I stopped having growth spurts a while ago. Maybe you just shrank?” laughed Collin, ruffling his roommate's hair. After the kitchen was completely clean, Collin started walking toward his room. “Night tiny.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Night big guy.” He watched Collin walk away. His eyes lingering on his fat ass. I looked like it was pushing those poor shorts to their limit. Watching it wobble from side to side. Each cheek looked like a soccer ball. Sam knew what he’d be jerking off to tonight. He headed to his room and shut the door. After a quick jack, he went to bed, excited for their get together tomorrow. For more updates, story ideas, or general MG stuff, Follow my twitter: https://twitter.com/Musclesaber
  25. TheId

    Coach and the Tutor

    I don't write very often because I feel like I have nothing new to contribute to the genre, but I start to feel guilty about just consuming, once in a while, and want to write something. Here goes. It was almost 5:30 and I was starting to get steamed again. I’d been the wrestling coach at this college for almost 10 years and I’d never been shown so much disrespect. I was more than ready to show the little pipsqueak not to fuck with my authority ever again. It all started a few weeks ago when my star wrestler, Cory, flunked an important test and got his stupid ass at risk for academic ineligibility. I managed to ‘persuade’ his professor to change the grade—he was used to being the big man around campus, bet he thought he was pretty tough always grading the athletes in his class so severely. He was about 6’1” and pretty muscular, but he nothing compared to me. When I visited his class one day as all the students shuffled, I could see his eyes get wide. I’m pretty used to getting that reaction, I’m 6’5”, got wide fucking shoulders and boulders under the skin for biceps. My chest is huge, and juts out in front of me and leads the way when I need to deal with some little man who’s trying to pull one over on me. I could see the cocky professor watching my chest with wide eyes as I stepped up to him. I heaved both my pecs under my tight white tank, let him really get a look. “Up here,” I said, my chest practically pressing against his. He looked UP into my eyes and visibly gulped. I’ve got a chiseled jaw and just the faintest hint of a beard, thick, scratchy stubble, and right now I was scowling down on him. “C-can I help you?” “You might be new around here, I’m Coach Peterson. Wrestling head coach.” “N-nice to… umm,” his eyes again traveled down my body. I knew he could see my rock hard stomach through the fabric of my tank. Was he trying to look at my bulge? “M-m-meet you… Sir.” Sir? Nice. This was going to be easy. Who am I kidding, it’s always easy. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You failed one of my wrestlers on the last test. You’re going to give him a ‘D’ and he’s going to pass this class. Am I understood?” “B-but I c-c-can’t…” He stuttered. I grabbed him around the waist and, easy as anything, lifted him up, practically throwing him down to sit on the desk. He gasped and I saw his hand drift down to his crotch. “I’m not going to tell you again. I’m going to get what I want, and I don’t want to hear any more about the wrestling team getting failing grades. Otherwise I’m going to get hostile, and you don’t want me to get hostile.” I looked down at the bulge hardening in his slacks. “Or maybe you would.” But I didn’t come here to fuck some bitch, although it would’ve been easy with this muscled up professor. I just strut out of the room, flexing my shoulders as I walked, letting him see the muscle on my back explode. In the end? He gave Cory a ‘B’. Pathetic. So what’s got me so pissed off today? Well, the brush with losing his eligibility meant that Cory needed to take mandatory tutoring. That meant he had to leave practice 10 minutes early to meet his one-on-one tutor: already bad enough. To make matters work, I received a formal request from his tutor that he wouldn’t see any improvement in his grades without a lighter work load on the team. I ignored it, of course. Some pip squeak college nerd tutor wasn’t going to pull away my best wrestler. But then the little pip squeak (Stephen was his name, if I remembered right) filed an official request with the director of athletics for the college, and I was going to be under all kinds of scrutiny unless this kid dropped his request. So “in the interest of helping Cory’s grades,” I invited the tutor kid to meet with me in my office at 5:30 when he was done with Cory’s session. Of course, I was going to ‘persuade’ the kid to drop his request. There was a knock on my door promptly at 5:30. I shouted a gruff “Come in” in as deep a voice as I could. If he wasn’t shaking already, I wanted him intimidated by the time he walked in. In walked the pip squeak. He was small, about 5’9” and skinny. He wore khakis and a tucked in polo that was obviously too big on him. It looked like he was wearing his big brother’s clothes. For what a pip squeak he was, he had a handsome face, I had to admit. Face still smooth from youth, but something about the little smirk on his face made me want to wipe it right off. “Thanks for meeting with me,” he held out his hand to shake mine. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. Hard. Not hard enough to cripple the kid, but hard enough to let him know he wasn’t dealing with some weedy academic types like he was used to. “My name’s Stephen Solis.” “I’m Coach Peterson,” I answered. I tightened my grip, since it didn’t seem he was reacting to the squeeze. His hand was so fucking small in mine, it’s a wonder I didn’t crush him. He took a seat across the desk from me, didn’t even check to see if his hand was alright. Usually a guy has to kinda wave it out when I shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Peterson.” This kid had some nerve. Getting off on the power of his position as a fucking student tutor. I was going to show him real power. “Coach,” I growled. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You filed a request with the head of athletics, isn’t that right?” “Yes, it certainly is.” “You’re going to drop it. You’re going to tell anyone asking that Cory is doing great on his schoolwork and doesn’t need any tutoring. Am I understood?” He took a moment to breathe in, rested his elbows on the chair’s arms and folding his hands. He seemed like he was sizing me up, trying to figure out how serious I was. He probably was trying to decide if I’d actually beat him to a pulp if he said ‘no’. He didn’t look scared, though. I honestly couldn’t read him. I got more frustrated. “No. I can’t do that, Mr. Peterson. Cory was done a huge disservice in his high school education, and I won’t let that to happen to his college education, as well. It’s my responsibility to make sure students are doing the best they can. That’s why I tried to put in my initial request with you.” “Listen here,” I was practically shaking I was so mad. “You don’t understand how this works. This kid is the reason we’re going to win the title this year. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure he’s on the mats.” “I’m sorry Mr. Peterson, but no. I’ve made my decision. It’s the best for Cory. That’s my concern.” It had been years since anyone said ‘no’ to me. It surprised me, then it infuriated me. If the kid wasn’t going to obey, I’m pretty sure I could control anyone coming to ask questions about my hurting this pip squeak. “You little pip squeak, this isn’t a discussion—“ “You’re right. I’ve made up my mind. Goodbye, Mr. Peterson.” He stood up and made for the door. I was up like a shot, taking the walk to the door in three big strides. I slammed it back closed just as he tried to open it, I held it closed. My chest was right in his face, and I was standing so much taller than him. When he looked up at me, he was still smirking. Not for long. “I don’t joke around, pip squeak.” “No. I’m sure you don’t.” He grinned up at me. “I like that. You know what? I think you’ll do.” “What the fuck are you—“ There was a sudden squeal of metal. I guess I must have gotten lost looking him in the eye, I didn’t even realize when he reached out, grabbed the metal frame of the door and bent it in, effectively pinning the door closed. I blinked twice. I tried to pull the door open, it wouldn’t budge an inch. I put my hip against the wall and tried wrenching it open. Nothing. I looked at the twisted metal, I could see the individual indents where his fingers had sunk into the metal. I touch the metal. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “I have a feeling you have a need deep inside you, Coach.” He said the word so dismissively. Who the fuck did this little pip squeak think he was. I tried to bend the metal back, my biceps bulged and my forearms became a map of blood vessels and hard muscle. The metal wouldn’t bend at all. The pip squeak had walked back over to my desk while my mind tried to make sense of what had just happened. “You get so much out of having those big, show-off muscles. Bet it’s a long time since you’ve even had to give that body a challenge. Long time since you had to think about what real strength was.” “You piece of shit, I’m gonna choke the shit out of you.” I started after him. Was honestly going to punch the smirk off this kid’s handsome face. I barely had time to process what happened. With the most casual laugh, he stooped down, grabbed the leg of my desk, then he stood back up, bringing the entire desk with him, lifting it into the air so smoothly it might had been pulled up on wires. Then he swung the desk, one handed, like it was some kind of baseball bat. The impact threw me across the room and splintered the desk! He dropped what he was still holding and stepped over all the papers and things that had spilled off my desk. “I have a way I’d like to choke you, Coach,” there was that tone again. “I don’t usually do things like this, you know.” I scrambled up and threw the hardest punch I could. He caught it easily before it could connect with his jaw. That tiny hand against my big fist was… so fucking strong. I grimaced as it felt like that hand was going to crush my fist. “Augh!” I screamed, thought the bones in my hand were going to break. I tried to knee him with all my strength. He just batted my knee back down to the ground, causing me to collapse into a puddle on the floor. Except my torso was being held up by that rock-hard grip still holding my aching fist. “L-let go of me.” “That’s not a very polite way of asking for something, is it?” He squeezed harder and I couldn’t help the shout that came out of me. “Fuck you.” “You see Coach, I’m pretty strong. Insanely strong, actually. But I don’t feel the need to go around trying to push people around.” He walked towards a chair, dragging me behind him by my fist and outstretched arm. I couldn’t seem to find my legs, tried hard as I could to pull away. Instead, my body just slid across the floor. “Though I’ve got to admit, it feels fucking awesome to be able to show off, once in a while.” “Who the fuck are you?” I finally found my feet and tried to stand up and wrench my fist away. It didn’t budge. He chuckled. “I told you who I am, dummy.” “Wh-what are you?” All I could think about was getting my fist out of the crushing pain it was experiencing. He smiled for a minute and stepped up to me, wrenching my fist so it raised up above my head and then pushed me back to my knees. My poor fist! I would do anything, I couldn’t afford to lose my hand! “I’m the Man,” he answered, simply. I looked UP at him from down on my knees, up into that fucking smirk splitting that handsome face. “P-please let go…” I said quietly, the pain causing my voice to shake. “I can’t hear you.” “Please let go of me!” “You’re new to begging, so I’ll give you one more chance.” With that, the pressure on my fist must have doubled and I cried out in pain. “Please let go of me, Sir! Pleeeeaase!” “If I let go of you, you’re going to do what I say, or you’re going to feel this power of this hand crushing something else.” He put the toe of his dress shoe between my thighs and lightly tapped against my balls through my gym shorts. “Are you going to do what I say?” “What the fuck do you want---AUUUGHHH!” He squeezed again. “’Yes Sir’ is the answer we’re looking for here, Coach.” “Y-yes Sir! Fine! Yes Sir! Just let me go!” “Tell me your name. Your first name.” “Curtis!” “Hmm. I’ll call you ‘boy’ instead.” With that he let me go and I cradled my sore hand to my chest. I didn’t even get off my knees, trying to process what had just happened. The pain went away pretty swiftly, and I could suddenly realize that a bruise was forming on my side where I’d been hit by the desk. Also, I felt a stirring in my pants. What the fuck? “I see that excited you. Good. I knew you’d be the one.” “I’m not excited you fucking pervert!” I growled, but still didn’t get off my knees. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself yet that it was a lie: I’d been rock hard in my pants the minute I realized I couldn’t pull my hand free of his grip. “Oh, my poor little boy.” He strode over to the other side of the room and plucked one of my college wrestling trophies off the shelf. It was a big golden cup attached to a thick marble base. I kept it polished to a shine. “Don’t be shy, it’s a perfectly natural reaction to realizing you’re over-powered.” I looked away when he tried to catch my eye, afraid to stand up because my big hard cock was tenting my shorts. One of his small hands took my chin between thumb and forefinger and I flinched. He tipped my head up to look him in the eyes. My neck strained against him, but it was like he didn’t even feel the resistance. Once he was sure he had my attention, he held up the big golden trophy. He put both small hands on it, and then he crushed it. Not just crushed it, rolled the metal up into a ball like it was so much aluminum foil. The gold plated metal squelched and squeezed between his fingers like it was made of putty. He took the marble base in hand “Watch your eyes,” he said softly. Then the marble exploded under his grip, crushed to absolute dust and letting it fall to the floor. The whole remains of the trophy could fit in one of his palms. “Holy fuck,” I felt my big cock lurch in my pants. I didn’t like that feeling: I got hard dominating other muscle brutes. This little college pip—er, guy was not getting me hard. He wasn’t! But damn fuck, he was so strong. It was unbelievable. “Like I said, boy.” He reached out and started feeling my chest, rubbing his hand over the broad expanse of my pecs. “All this muscle is just for show, and I’m going to teach you some respect. And you’re going to thank me for it.” He pinched a nipple and I gasped, my hard cock dribbling some pre-cum into my shorts. “You’ve got some pretty tits, boy.” “I-I’m not… I don’t’… I don’t swing that way. I’m no queer.” I tried to call him pip-squeak but the word died on my tongue when I met his eye and saw the look of total possession in his eyes. I felt like I was going to come. “Now now,” he gently slapped my hand and I flinched again. This guy could have probably knocked my head off. “I don’t like it when my boys lie to me. You might try to hide it from your team, but I can see how much you like men. Probably never thought what you really needed was a real man to take control. I’m going to do that for you.” “No… I…” I gulped, he was now running his thumb over my lips, holding my face in one hand. I couldn’t budge, he was pushing me down so hard. Not that I could’ve stood up if I wanted to, my legs were still jello with how hard my cock was. “I’m a top…” “Not for long.” He stuck his thumb in my mouth. It pushed past my lips despite me keeping my mouth shut tight. He stroked the pad of his tongue gently over the tip of my tongue. My eyes started to close. No! I wasn’t going to put up with this! I bit down hard, at the same time I punched up with all my strength to nail him in the crotch. It wasn’t a clean fight, but I was fighting for my survival, here! My fist was again trapped, this time between his thighs. God, they felt like granite! It was the first time I happened to look at his crotch. Something in his loose khakis jumped. I thought I could just barely make out something snaking down his leg. This was all foreplay to him. Oh Christ! My eyes closed, my cock strained, leaking a wider wet spot on the front of my shorts. “No, no, boy.” He released my fist from between his rock hard thighs and resumed pushing his thumb into my mouth. I no longer tried to fight him, sucking on the thumb as a familiar feeling built up in my balls. “You don’t cum without permission.” “Can’t… can’t help it… gonna cum,” I said past the thumb in my mouth. “You mean this little pip-squeak is going to make you cum without even touching yourself?” “I’m sorry! Sorry I called you…. Unnnnf… pip-squeak!” “So you’re going to be a good boy, now?” It was so degrading, I was sucking on his thumb like it was the last thing I’d ever do, on my knees in my own office, harder than I’d ever been. I was so humiliated. I was so turned on. A part of me screamed to get up! I tried to spit the thumb out of my mouth, but of course I couldn’t. My big cock strained. “You can beat the shit out of me, but I’m never going to be your boy!” I said, though I couldn’t believe the voice that came out of me. I didn’t sound certain at all. But I could take a licking, my muscles weren’t for show. They weren’t! If I can’t beat this guy, I can take whatever he throws at me… couldn’t I? “You’re already my boy,” he laughed. He lightly slapped my face again. “You’re going to like this a lot more once you submit.” “Never!” Never? He pushed my head down till my face was right in the crotch of his slacks. I could catch his scent, being this close. God, it smelled like muscle sex. The kind of scent that takes over everything else in the room, the scent that sticks around when a powerful man’s gotten what he wants, whether it be a hard workout or a tight ass to fuck. My head was swimming, I couldn’t take my eyes off what I thought might be his cock, my shoulders relaxed and I sagged. I wanted to bury my nose between his legs, but I was so afraid to touch him. Partly because I was afraid what it would say about me, but I have to admit, it was mostly because I hadn’t been given permission. “I think you can be a good boy,” he lectured. “I’m the man to show you what a good boy you can be. I always get what I want, but I know you want it, too.” I didn’t even notice he had taken his hand off my head, I just stayed exactly where he put me. He stroked my hair. Like I was a fucking pet. “Don’t you?” I grunted, I didn’t know what I wanted, anymore. My grunt came out more as a gasp as his small hand massaged the back of my neck. “Use your words, boy. You want me.” “I… I…” “You what, boy?” “I do. I want it. Fuck, what the fuck is happening to me?” “You’re finding your place,” he chuckled. “And good boys get rewarded.” He pushed my face roughly into his crotch, I buried my nose in the fabric drawn tight by his hard-on. Fuck, that scent! I had my mouth open, gasping in the stud’s scent. I’d never felt anything like this. “You’re going to be a good boy?” “Yes. Yes!” My tongue lolled out of my mouth and I licked at his balls beneath the khakis. “Yes Sir!” “Tell me that you’re going to be a good boy.” “I’m going to be your good boy!” I said, loathe to take my mouth off his package. The next thing I knew, he was pulling back, I chased him with my tongue, but he held me back with a hand on my forehead. There was no way I could move, now. I whimpered. I whimpered? Oh fuck. “Stand up.” He stepped back and sat himself down in one of my chairs. I slowly got to my feet, I felt self-conscious. I felt defeated. I felt horny as hell. I tried to straighten my shoulders as I came to my full height, but looking at the stud smirking up at me made me cower a little bit. My big cock was peeking out the top of my shorts, and the wet spot had spread to the hem of my tight tank. “Time to learn how to show off those muscles for your man. Take off your clothes.” I stammered, but my hands were already working to pull my tank off of my torso. “Stop,” he said calmly, and I stopped immediately. “You’re going to show off. Don’t make me repeat myself, boy.” “Yes Sir.” The words just came out. I started again, running my hands over my rock hard stomach as it was exposed. This stud got turned on dominating me. Dominating me! I wanted to show him I was still hot, even if he was the better man in the room. I needed to prove I was worth something, even though I couldn’t match his strength. He had called me a show-off… god, he was right. Everything I wore, every way I acted, all to show off this body. This weak fucking body that had never been defeated before on the mat or otherwise. When my pecs were exposed, I cupped them each in my hands and flexed, running my fingers through the thick hair. He looked pleased and my cock jumped in excitement. I hadn’t had to impress anyone since I started wrestling in high school, wanting to prove myself to my coach. This was like that, but different. I always wanted my coach to respect me. I knew the stud sitting in front of me could never respect me like that. So what did I want? “You’re going to earn this cock after all, boy.” Fuck. His cock. My mouth started to water, but I couldn’t admit it to myself. “Turn around and take off those shorts.” “Yes Sir,” I said, turning around. I didn’t know what to do, if I wanted to earn his cock, I needed to show off. I’d never shown off my muscle ass before. Everyone was always focused on my huge cock. I pulled down the waistband of my shorts and sort of rocked my hips. God, would he be pleased by my ass? I had never felt so shy. But I’d been ordered. I slid the waistband down below my ass cheeks, the were being held up just by my powerful thighs. I reached back with a trembling hand and took hold of one of my muscled ass cheeks, giving it a squeeze. “All the way off, boy.” I slid my shorts the rest of the way down, I wasn’t wearing underwear, so now I stood in my own office buck naked at the command of the 5’9” stud who had to be the strongest person in the world. The stud who had made me his boy. I looked down and saw how red and hard my cock was. I just knew he’d be impressed by my cock… maybe he’d just want to suck it and then he’d let me get dressed. I could still pretend like this never happened. “Everything’s changed, now, boy.” His voice gave me chills. He was right. There was no going back. This man was going to lead me wherever he wanted me to be. “Turn around.” I slowly turned around. He was leaning back in his chair, running his hand over the fat bulge in his pants. He looked me up and down like he was choosing a steak. Then he stood up. He pointed to the ground in front of him and I scrambled to kneel there, back in range of his manly fucking scent. “Guess what this man is going to have his little boy do next?” He said, voice low with lust. “S-suck your cock?” I asked, almost begging. “Good boy.” He unzipped his pants and pushed them down, pulling aside the band off his underwear too. I could see the base of his cock, bent uncomfortably into his pants. He was… thick. He was so fucking thick! He had to fish into his pants and cant his hips to free the rest of his cock, hauling it out and letting it bob in front of my face. He wasn’t fully hard yet, and his cock was the biggest I’d ever seen. Even in porn. Even in my wildest dreams, I didn’t have a cock that big. “Holy fuck…” I gasped. There was a glimmer of pre-cum on the tip where it was peeking out of his foreskin. As I watched in awe, his cock raised up to finally harden at an angle to his torso. How the fuck could he even hold that thing up? I reached up to touch it, mesmerized. “Not till your told.” And I lowered my hand again. I moved to take hold of my own dick, but stopped because I hadn’t been ordered to. Instead I tried to focus on that scent, flooding my senses now that his pants were open. He took his cock in hand, his small hands couldn’t even close around the base. How did he jack off? I gulped when I realized he probably didn’t need to jerk off. This man used a boy when he needed to get off. I was the latest conquest. Fuck! He lifted his cock and slapped my face with it, hard, five times. The fleshy bat whacked against my cheeks, left a streak of pre-cum in my stubble. I didn’t realize I had opened my mouth until his cock slapped against my tongue. “If I wanted to, I could knock you across the room just by swinging my big cock at your face.” I didn’t feel threatened, I felt electrified. Imagined what it’d be like to be knocked to the ground just by a real man’s cock. “You know what to do.” Oh god, I did know what to do! “Please, Sir, can I suck—can I worship your fucking huge fucking cock?” I bravely looked up into his eyes, he was smiling at me affectionately. There was no challenge in his gaze. I was no challenge to him at all. “That mouth is mine,” he declared. I stuck out my tongue and nodded hastily. “Prove it.” I fell on his cock like I was starving for it, trying to fit the head in my mouth. It was hard as steel and pulsing against my tongue once I got it in. But the head wasn’t even the thickest part of his cock, and my lips were stretched as he pushed in. There was nothing I could do to stop him, so I tried to please him. Tried to wriggle my tongue into his foreskin, I got a thick taste of this MAN. The head of his cock battered into the back of my throat and I whimpered. I wanted to prove I could take him all the way. I wanted him to make me take him all the way. He was taking pleasure from me faster than I could willingly give it to him. It was true domination. My little dick lurched and my balls churned. He lifted the hem of his loose polo and I balked. The incredible hair at the base of his monster cock led up into a treasure trail of blonde hairs up to his belly button, and what appeared to be the deepest cut abs I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe it, he was so small and looked so skinny. I reached up to brace myself on his thighs and once against felt the steel hard strands of his muscle there too. I whined because I thought I was going to cum right there. But I couldn’t: I hadn’t been ordered! “Starting to get an idea of what real power looks like, little boy,” he lectured, taking control and pushing his cock into my throat, gagging me. “Who’s choking whom, now, boy?” I choked and gasped and my eyes watered as that big head pushed deeper in my throat. “You’re pretty inexperienced at giving blow-jobs, but the enthusiasm is appreciated. Don’t worry. This Man’s going to make sure you learn what you need to learn. No matter how long it takes.” My head was swimming and I was almost losing consciousness, but I was so grateful he was going to train me how to take his cock. He pulled out and I hollowed out my cheeks trying to keep his monster cock in my mouth desperately, but of course I was no match for him. He pulled out and his cock was now shining with spit. He reached his hand down, gently collected one of my tears on his thumb, then fed it to me. I sucked onto his thumb like I was auditioning to be his cocksucker. “That’s a good boy. Crying around my cock.” He pulled out his thumb and put his leaking cockhead back against my lips. “If your team could see you now. Showed you your place.” God imagining my team watching me! It wasn’t fair, though! They didn’t know what it was like to serve a real man! Anyone would go to his knees for this stud! I was lucky he chose me as his next notch. Team be damned if they couldn’t understand that! I sucked his cock again vigorously, but it wasn’t long before he took control again, fucking my face. Tracing the outline of his cockhead in my throat with one teasing finger. I just drooled and cried and whined. “Not a man. Just a fucktoy,” he laughed after a few minutes, once I finally pressed my wet face against his steel hard hips, his cock completely inside me. We stayed like that for a moment, him grinding my nose into his pubes, that scent causing my throat to lock down and massage his shaft. “I know just how to play with you to get what I want.” He reached down and twisted my nipple on my bigger but weaker tits with his small fingers. I whimpered and tried to stick out my tongue to wash his balls while he dominated my mouth. He pulled out and left me coughing, but staring him in the eye, tongue out, ready to be used again. “There’s something you want to say to me, isn’t there, bitch boy?” “Yes Sir…” “Say it.” “Th-thank you, Sir! Thank you for making me your f-f-fuck toy.” “And what else?” “Use me however you want,” my chest heaved as I took in sharp breaths. My naked body was coated in a sheen of sweat, big tits rising up and down, muscle packed stomach pushing in and out. “Didn’t I tell you I get what I want?” “Yes Sir!” Despite being so much bigger, I had never felt so small. This freshman college kid, barely had stubble on his face, was using me as his private fuck toy, and I loved it! In the next moment he had hauled me to my feet. He pulled his shirt off and I marveled at his body. He was rock hard everywhere. His biceps were small and cut, his chest was so hard I could see every striation of his taut muscle. It looked like his nipples could cut glass. I mumbled out a feeble ‘Oh Sir!’ and longed to touch him, but I hadn’t been ordered. He stooped and put his arm between my legs, flexing his rock solid bi against my taint, lifting me off the ground with one arm like I was lighter than a feather. “I’m going to use that hole, boy. Going to make sure that pussy I own is trained before I go.” “Oh fuck!” He carried me across the room, my feet dangling between his legs. I was going to cum! I was going to cum! But I couldn’t, I had to impress him, I had to prove myself to be a good bitch. I knew I’d never cum again without thinking about this stud. He set me down on the remainders of my desk, laid me on my back like a Daddy putting down his baby boy. “Want to see your face the first time I use my fuck hole.” I screamed when his lubed up cockhead slid past the ring of my ass. He was moving so slow, but his entry was totally inevitable. I clenched down my hole, I tried so hard to open up for him, but my body knew what he really wanted: to conquer my ass the same way he conquered my muscles. And he did, he slid into me without stopping until he was buried to the hilt. My world exploded with pain, but my cock drooled more pre onto my hairy abs. “That’s what I like to see. Don’t worry, bitch, your Daddy’s got you.” He laughed and slid his cock slowly out before pushing back in. All of the sudden the pain disappeared. I felt full. So incredibly full, like I’d never been. God what had I been missing not bottoming before now? But it didn’t matter, I knew nobody could ever fill me up like this ever again. What use was there bottoming to inferior men? But what use was there pretending to be a top anymore, either? Oh god, he changed me! The head of his cock brushed against my prostate with each push in, and I moaned like a whore. I fought to keep my eyes open—he wanted to see my eyes while he plowed me—but it was so hard. He reached up and twisted my nips again, I clenched down hard on his shaft. He was playing me like an instrument, knew just how to make me give him more pressure, knew how to open me up. He knew me better than I knew myself, he knew how to make sure he got what he wanted out of a willing bitch. That was me. Christ, that was me! I was his bitch! “Thank you Sir!” I shouted out as he powered in and out of me. “I know, bitch boy. I know.” God I loved that cocky smirk, it made me blush and made my hole pulse just seeing it. God I’d dream about looking down the length of my built body to see this Alpha smirking down on me. He fucked me for what felt like hours. It got dark outside and he was still coaching me on how to be a better bitch for him, still twisting my nips and slapping my face, spanking my ass until it was red. Anything he had to do to make me tighten my pussy here or open it up here. No matter how much I clenched down it must feel like nothing to that strongman cock, but I tried anyway. “Lucky you can’t get pregnant, boy. Cuz I’m going to shoot such a load in you.” “Breed me! Please Sir!” “I know you want it, my dirty little whore. Know what a slut you are for my big cock and huge load.” He stroked the fur on my abs. I was sobbing now, eyes foggy with tears. I’d never felt anything so good. “I fucking need it, Sir! Need it… need it…” “I know. Trust Daddy.” “Yes, Daddy!” God he was everything. He changed his angle and started ramming into a new spot inside me. My little dick lurched, my balls drew up. “Cum, bitch. Now,” he commanded. I obeyed. It felt so good to obey! I shouted and hit myself in the face with the load that rocketed out of my dick. My face was dripping and I was crying softly and trying to catch my breath when the last spurt landed on my tits. “Little load from a little boy,” he growled, every muscle on his perfect torso was flexing in sharp relief. Maybe someday he would let me worship his chest… “Here I cum, bitch.” “Please, Daddy! His body went rigid and his eyes closed, then I felt a warm, wet pressure in my pussy as he bred me. God he was shooting so hard, buried to the hilt inside me, making room for his cum. He thrust as he came, making the desk screech across the floor with me on it. If I felt full before, it was nothing compared to this. After nine hard shots, he pulled his cock out of my pussy and it fountained cum up into the air and down onto my chest, my face, into my mouth. I could feel the cum pouring out of my stretched hole while cum rained down on me, burning hot. I clenched my hole to keep it inside, and I stuck out my tongue. When he stopped shooting, his cock was still hard, rampant and huge compared to my own softening little dick. He chuckled again and smirked down at me. He let my legs fall and strode over to the other side of the desk. He yanked me so my head hung down off the desk upside down, then he put the wet head of his cock between my lips and I sucked and sucked and tried to clean him as best I could. He played with my nipples like I’d been a good pet. When he pulled his cock from between my lips, he strode over to where I’d dropped my clothes. He picked up my tank top and used it to dry the rest of the spit and cum off his cock, dried off his sweaty balls. “You’ll wear that tank tomorrow to work. I suspect you’re never going to want to wash this thing, anymore.” I was so weak I could barely muster a ‘yes sir.’ But I did, because that’s what my owner expected. “I plan on using that pussy again, bitch boy. And I might not be so gentle next time. Keep that pussy ready for me.” With that, he walked back to the door and bent the frame back into place, opening the door and walking out like nothing had happened. He left the door open. It was good almost everyone had gone home, otherwise they would have seen me lying naked and soaked and leaking cum, without the strength to even cross the floor of my ruined office and close the door.
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