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My Little Bro’s Sick Pump, part 1 by Broody I’m not crazy. I know I’m not crazy. But everybody thinks I’m crazy when I tell them about my little bro’s sick pump. Mind you, when it first happened, I did think I was seeing things. We’re both high school athletes, me football, him soccer. This was about four weeks before I was leaving in July for university, and I wanted to show my little bro how to use my basement weight training equipment, which he’d never used before, since strength training isn’t as important for his sport. “Booooring!” he said as he watched me demonstrate bent-over rows, bench press, squats, deadlifts, weighted pull-ups, weighted dips, bicep curls, and overhead presses. “How can you stand it, big bro? Picking things up and putting them down. Big yawn. Why would I be doing dumb shit like this when I can do fun agility drills?” The cocky little guy flicked up a 2.5 lb plate into the air with his shoe, then hopped, kicking it in mid air. The plate shot across the basement and lodged in the naked drywall of the laundry room. I rolled my eyes at Tommy’s stupidity. “Dude, you gotta stop doing shit like that. That was solid steel; you could have broken your foot.” “Naw, bro. I never get injured. Just lucky I guess.” “I’ll give you one good reason why you should lift. Chicks.” That got his attention. Tommy was fearless when it came to sports, and standing up to bullies. But he was a deer in the headlights when it came to chicks. He’d never had a girlfriend, never even asked a girl out. He made out like it didn’t bother him, but I knew it did. And I knew he admired me for my ease around girls; my younger girlfriend Kaitlyn was the hottest chick in his year, and he wouldn’t have the courage to ask a girl like her out in a million years. “Yeah, Pete?” “Yeah, lil bro. Let me show you. Take off your shirt.” I shucked my gym shirt as well and we compared our physiques in the mirror. We definitely looked like brothers. We both had Dad’s square jaw and Mom’s good looks. I had blond hair like Mom, which I kept short with a nice fade on the sides and back. Tommy was dark-haired like Dad, and it fell on the sides on his face in scraggly strands. We were almost the same height and we had the same basic bone structure. Our shoulders would’ve been the same width except mine were capped with rounded delts that gave me another inch or so of muscle on each side. I had meaty, full pecs with a nice cleft in the middle and an inch overhang off my torso. Tommy’s chest had a thatch of dense hair in the middle that nestled the tiny cross of his slim gold chain, but he had almost no definition and was completely flat. My upper arms had muscle on both sides, with well developed triceps from pushing around my football bros on the field, and biceps that popped up into balls when I flexed. Tommy’s upper arms were smooth and tubular. Even though Tommy was lean from all the running you do in soccer, I had nicer abs, cause I actually worked on em. A six-pack of bricks. “See Tommy, I got muscles, and chicks like muscles.” Tommy reached over and squeezed my right pec, making a honking noise. “Yeah, Kaitlyn likes these tits, huh? Maybe she’s a dyke.” “Bro…” Tommy hung his head sheepishly. “Shit, man. I didn’t mean that. Kaitlyn’s cool, don’t tell her I said that.” “I won’t… as long as you try out the weights.” “Wait, dude, we didn’t even compare the part I gotchu beat on. Check out these soccer legs and weep, bro.” We both hiked up our gym shorts. The comparison was much closer, but the superiority of my quads was still obvious. You could see the separation of the individual muscles and they were clearly thicker. Tommy’s quads were healthy and strong, and very hairy, but smaller. “Sorry, bro. I think our calves are the closest. Go up on your toes like this.” We flexed our calves side by side and in fact it did look like they were about the same size. Calves were always a weak point for me in bodybuilding, like for a lot of guys. And clearly all the running and dribbling and jumping in soccer was having a good effect for Tommy down there. “Alright. Enough admiring my body. Get to work, skinny.” “Fuck you, big bro,” he grinned. “Fine, I’ll try your boring workout.” He strode over to the barbell loaded with two big plates, 135 lbs. I’d finished the workout doing overhead presses. “Bro, we gotta lower the weight that’s too much for y—“ With a low grunt my lil bro pressed the weight overhead, locking out his arms. “Fuck me that’s heavy,” he panted. “No shit, bro. Too heavy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” “I told you bro, that never happens. How many of these did you do?” He lowered the weight down to his chest, huffing deep breaths as he tried to control it. “Eight reps, bro, but…” “Damn big bro, respect. Let me see if I can do another.” I stepped close to him, chest to chest, so I could spot him. He blew out air into my face as he powered the barbell up again. “Aw man, bro, this is so heavy. I don’t think I’m gonna make it to eight.” No fucking kidding. I was amazed that he was able to lift it at all as a complete noob lifter. Tommy lowered the bar again and this time he got stuck immediately as he tried a third rep. “Oh shit.” “It’s okay, bro, I got it.” I reached for the barbell to relieve him of the burden. “No!” he growled through gritted teeth. His face reddened and his skinny arms shook as he inched the barbell higher through sheer determination. Halfway through the rep, he lost momentum again and the barbell stopped rising. When I moved to help again, he shook his head angrily. I held up my index fingers. “Two fingers, bro, that’s all I’m gonna do to spot you. The rest is all you.” Holding them vertical, I touched them gently to the underside of the barbell, and pushed. The bar started creeping upward again. “Repeat after me, lil bro: Fucking feather!” “FUCKING FEATHER!!” “This weight is my bitch!” “THIS… WEIGHT… IS… MY… BITCH!!!!” Sweat streamed down from Tommy’s dark bushy damp pits as he locked out his arms at the top of the rep. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and he stank of teen musk. I took the full weight of the bar and Tommy collapsed on his ass. “Fuck man, only three. This shit is hard.” “Bro, you did three reps of overhead presses with a weight most new lifters couldn’t even lift off the ground. That’s good!” “Really?” I shifted the barbell over one shoulder and offered a hand to help him up. “Fuck yeah, bro. And… I think you even got a little pump.” My voice caught in my throat as he stood up. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. His previously non-existent delts now had a shape. And the shape they had was mine. Rounded and bulging and -- fuck! -- the same size! Tommy swung his head side to side to check it out. “Damn bro you’re right. Holy shit is that a vein? SICK.” I was stunned. “Yeah…” was all I could say. I remember the day I first saw a vein from a pump. It was eighteen months into lifting. Tommy had one after three reps. My reverie was interrupted by Tommy clapping his hands in glee. “What’s next? “Well t-technically you should do two more sets.” I stuttered as I lowered the barbell to the floor. “Naw, that’s boring. Let’s do that one you started with. Bent-over ho’s?” he snickered. I laughed. “Good one bro. Rows. Yeah why don’t you start with this weight.” 135 lbs would be plenty for a novice lifter. “Naw bro, you did more than this. Get the plates.” “But…” “Get. The. Plates.” My lil bro’s pumped delts twitched as he stared me down. “Sure bro, don’t say I didn’t warn you though.” I added 20 lbs to each side of the barbell. It was 175 lbs, five pounds over my bodyweight but twenty pounds heavier than Tommy’s 155. I stood back and waited for him to topple over. But he had been paying attention to my form, and he hauled the barbell up off the ground with a deep-voiced grunt. “Damn, big bro. You’re fucking strong, this is hard.” “Uh-huh,” I said, amazed that this wasn’t just a fluke. Like before he was able to do two reps with a huge amount of effort and then tried a third. He couldn’t do it. “Spot me bro” he huffed. “What?” You don’t normally spot this exercise, if the weight is too heavy you just drop it. “I said-- get on your knees and spot me,” he growled. I scooted in front of him on my knees and held my arms and two fingers out to reach the barbell; the position was awkward though, with Tommy looming over me, his red heaving face was an inch away from mine. His long scraggly hair actually brushed my cheeks. He inched the barbell higher while he screamed in my face: “FUCKING FEATHER!!!” “You got this lil bro, almost th—“ “WHO’S MY BITCH?” “Th-the weight. The weight is your bitch, bro.” “Fucking right.” He practically threw the barbell to the ground as he finished the third rep with the help of my fractional spot. I steadied the weight as Tommy paced the floor with manic energy. When he turned his back to me I couldn’t believe my eyes. His back had a new V-shape from the pump he got in his lats. He turned back to me. “Fuck, bro, I can’t believe I doubted you. Working out is awesome, I feel like a gorilla!” He puffed out his chest and beat it with his fists like King Kong. My mouth dropped open. I could see his lat pump from the front! What the hell was happening? “Bench press next, bro?” “Y-yeah…” I stuttered. I knew better at this point than to suggest a lower weight than my working weight of 205 lbs. We loaded the plates and I stood behind the bar to spot. This time I watched his body carefully. With each rep, it was like his pecs inflated with a tire pump. I had to will my hands to stop shaking as I repeated my two-finger spot. At the top of the rep, I realized with a start that I couldn’t see the little cross of Tommy’s gold chain. It was sealed inside his pec cleft like Jesus in the tomb! I was so shocked I nearly dropped the bar on Tommy’s neck as his arms gave out in total muscular failure. “Whoa, big bro! Focus.” He sat up and gave me a disappointed look. “Sorry, Tommy, I just… that was awesome.” “I know, right? Grrrr…” He flexed his pecs into sweaty red mounds that were clearly as big as my pride and joy chest. The cross on his chain lay in the center of his right pec. I looked closer to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. The cross was slightly bent so it would no longer lie flat on his chest! Fucking hell! Tommy sped through the rest of the workout in similar fashion, doing three reps to utter failure with the weight I lifted for a working set of 8 reps for squats and deadlifts. When we got to the pull ups and dips, I suggested he just use his bodyweight and he scoffed. “Dude, I’m lighter than you, you gotta add fifteen pounds more to the weight belt, not take away.” “B-but…” “Do it.” So instead of a big 45 and small 10 plate, I chained two 35 lb plates to the belt and watched Tommy grunt and heave through two powerful pullups. I put my hands on his hip bones at the bottom of the rep. “What the fuck, bro,” he bellowed hoarsely. “Two fingers only!” “Sorry!” I looked for where my two fingers could get the most purchase. After rows, deadlifts, and now two reps of weighted pull-ups, his back had a sick, sick pump. I could see his lat insertions jut out horizontally from his lower back. Even at the bottom of the rep, it was enough for one finger on each side. I pushed upward with my index finger tips. By the time he got to the top of the rep, the insertions had flared out so far I could have pushed with all four fingers of each hand. For dips, he wanted 15 lbs more than the two 45s I had used. I stood on a stepstool behind him and spent the first two reps figuring out where I was going to put my fingers for the spot. I hadn’t quite figured it out by the time he was ready for rep number three and not wanting to be yelled at again, I jammed them into his armpits from behind. “Fuck, bro, that tickles!” Finally! The first time in the last forty-five minutes that my little bro showed any kind of weakness. “Tough shit, bro, deal with it. Now push!” “Aw fuck, bro,” he giggled like the little bro I remembered, instead of this crazy strong beast I was meeting for the first time. I dug my fingers in a little more, secretly hoping I could get him to let go of the bars. Instead, Tommy screamed like a berserker and in one mighty push he rocketed upward and locked out his arms. I yelped as his armpits closed on my fingers like a vise. I pulled out my right finger but my left was trapped. Tommy growled, holding the top-of-the-rep contraction powerfully as his triceps bulged in all directions. I howled as a small hard square of back muscle smashed my finger into the steel of his pumped up triceps like a hammer on an anvil. I gurgled in pain, yanking uselessly on my finger with all my strength. I felt the bone bend and I thought I would pass out, but then Tommy dropped his feet to the floor and I fell on my ass. He turned around. “Fucking sweet man. What’s next?” Then: “Damn bro, you’re looking a little pale. You okay?” I was not okay. I was looking up at a darker, hairier mirror image of my body. A body I had built up with pride over two years of regular gym workouts. Now Tommy had a body that looked like mine after barely an hour of weight training. I was not okay. Tommy whooped as he straightened his arm and watched in the mirror as his triceps humped into a horseshoe shape. “Look at this goddamn sick pump, bro!” I stood up and reflexively stuck my sore burning finger into my mouth. I coughed, gagging on the taste of my teen brother’s muscle musk. It tasted like how the locker room smelled when it was crowded with forty hormonal football players after a sweaty June practice. Tommy looked around for the EZ curl bar. “Last one, right big bro? Curls for the girls?” “Curls for the girls…” I droned. “How much did you do, again?” “105, like, one 35 plate on each side.” Tommy scooted around finding the plates and the barbell collars while I stared stupidly, still sucking on my finger. I watched his arms as he worked. His biceps were already as big as mine, from the pump of the pullups and rows. I wanted to run from the basement but my feet were rooted in place as he leaned over to pick it up. But then he stopped. “Naw, something’s not quite right.” He stood up and walked over to the laundry room. With his long strong fingers, he fished the 2.5 lb plate out of the drywall, then added it along with its mate to the barbell. “Perfect.” He winked at me cockily. “Bro…” I said, my lip quivered but I couldn’t bring myself to beg. Don’t do this. He curled the bar up, keeping his back straight like I had shown him. His biceps hardened and slowly contracted as he started moving the weight through the bottom half of the movement He grunted with huge effort to move the weight past ninety degrees, and a thick vein popped out of the muscle to match the veins in his straining neck as he blew out air. At the top of the rep, his biceps had bulged up to the size of baseballs. He sucked in air as he lowered the weight slowly, keeping the tension in the muscle on the negative rep. On the second rep, he was clearly struggling to get to the halfway point, but he grit his teeth and the muscle swelled bigger with pure determination. At the top of the rep, you could see the biceps pumped full of blood, not only peaked but also bulging out the sides of his arm. He lowered the bar slowly, shit-talking through gritted teeth all the way down. “Fucking bitch weight… You can’t handle this muscle… Gonna take that iron into my arms… My arms’ll be steel hard… And you’ll be soft as putty… Soft as a bitch’s tits… Which is what you are… Bitch weight.” He reached the bottom, and I moved forward to do my two-fingered spot. His jacked arms radiated heat like a furnace. Red-faced, he sucked in air and started the third rep, but when I put my two fingers under the bar he shook his head. “Naw, bro, on your knees.” I opened my mouth to protest, but as I saw his biceps start to peak bigger than mine at only two thirds of the rep, with multiple veins now snaking up to his delts and down to his hairy forearms, my legs buckled and I dropped to my knees in front of him. I couldn’t figure out what he wanted me to do, so I just stared dumbly as his arms reached a ninety degree angle and his momentum stopped. His face straining, he looked down at me. “No… fingers… Petey… Just… blow…” Startled, my eyes darted in front of me to Tommy’s soccer shorts. His hefty cock and balls strained the fabric just as much as his pumped up quads. “The barbell, dumbass!” he yelled and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I scooted forward and craned my neck upwards. I pursed my lips and blew on the underside of the bar. With a primal roar my novice lifter little bro powered through the midpoint and his biceps blew up to the size of fucking softballs! At the top of the rep he SHOVED the barbell away and it flew over my head, clanging onto the concrete floor and rolling into the mirrored wall. A large crack split up the mirror with a snap. Tommy dropped to his knees in exhaustion. I looked at his heaving pecs as he gulped in air. His skin was soaked in sweat like he’d spent an hour in the sauna. He looked down at his swollen muscles and flexed his chest, arms and abs. Shit, we didn’t even train abs and his now rippled like a washboard! His green eyes looked confidently into mine. “Thanks for showing me working out, big bro.” He flexed his arms up in a huge double biceps pose that took my breath away. “I think I’ll take it.” To be continued… (This work is licensed under CC BY-NC 4.0)

Hey everyone! I plan to risk a bit with this intimate and kinda strange one. We'll have a lot of daddy moments, lots of tease and a VERY slow burn with a lots of ups and downs down south. Enjoy and let me know what you think! --------------- Credits to the following (discord) role-player’s I met to create this: Jayfan Copyright disclaimer: I don't own any picture. I link every source if possible. Please contact me or a moderator in case of demanded removal. Content notes: Reader discretion is advised! I am not sure about trigger warnings. (BUT FOR SURE: MENTIONED DEATH, HINTED ADOPTION, GROSS MENTIONINGS, EMOTIONAL STUFF!) I beg to inform me if there is something to note! ---------- Prologue: Loss bonds together I have always admired and simultaneously hated my father. But not for typical reasons. My father tried everything to make me big, confident and strong. He was patiently pushing me every day, raising me like an instructor—his voice always steady, his eyes sharp as if he could see every flaw before it formed. Even when he laughed, it boomed, swallowing the space around him, while I shrank into corners, hoping I wouldn’t be noticed because of the error I made. My father basically was a god at showing how things should be done and was an unfailing beast in doing so EVERY FUCKING TIME. People were always looking up at him in awful inspiration and admired him just like I did. But I… I just have always failed at that absolute studly man – one kind of a man I could not get anyhow. I have always felt so ashamed by not sharing ANY traits he ever had - him always being so energetic, so loud when laughing, so loving, so strong and SO HUGE – a being which wants me to be perfect like him. Every time I stood in his shadow, I felt my chest tighten, my hands balling into fists inside my pockets. I wanted to disappear, to shrink down into the floor where no one could see the ways I fell short. And he never seemed to notice … You know, failing fathers usually haven’t learned how to take responsibility from their own fathers and therefor usually fail to raise their own children. Just being there when needed sometimes seems like too much to be asked. Admittedly, some might have critical life-situations, usually decaying by overuse of alcohol or other drugs - harming their family AND themselves. And then there are kinds of failing fathers who project their wishes on their child, pushing it so hard to get the kid how they wanted themselves to be at a young age. Things do sound decreasingly worse, right? But… what if the child could not adapt enough or just did not want to be the way how it was supposed to be? Well, I was such a kid. I was a total failure in the physical department. I was always frail and always the shy and small kind of guy – who never hit the growth spurt or was the smartest dude either. I often broke my lids and probably wasn’t interested in any way as I was just busy holding myself together. Unsurprisingly, my parents were barely satisfied after I came home and got an F again and again. It took a lot of effort to just have them accept I wasn’t good at anything. Just making me learn for school, have good enough grades and find my place under a row of nothings was a huge chunk of work. Maybe I look a bit better than most, but that was it. 1000% effort for 1% rewarding result was nothing I was proud to show. So, I always preferred to hide myself – like an invisible shadow… Due to that, I did not have many friends and rather daily saw people who did not care about who and how I am. Except for two hopelessly loving people who truly believed they had a duty – raising me to the best possible being I could get. From a very early age I already knew about their feelings about me. I eavesdropped on my parents many times and knew about their frustration and disappointment. They loved me so much they even worried about my far future - like me unable to push myself hard enough – even if I wanted someone watching over me. I just failed every time on getting it done. And that made me very uncomfortable over the course of my teen years… To put it short, in my times of “puberty”, things went dramatically. “Daniela” and “Jad”, how I called them instead of “mom” and “dad” from a certain point, had put sheer “senseless work” into me. I still did not understand why they loved me that much. After all, so many people already saw me as a total loser and put me to shame on how I did not deserve any of their love. It was mean… but I … somewhen believed it just as well. And since my anemic short boringly normal looking being was about to not being a minor anymore, I craved moving out as fast as I could. I just wanted to leave that shitty village which hated me as much as I hated it. I could not wait to leave them behind and would finally not be such a burden anymore. I just had one problem: I didn’t know where I should go and how. But I saw myself rightfully run away in the hope they would finally give up on me and just choose a direction. To put it short again: I ended up camping incognito in the woods for halve a week… After the police finally found me, my parents were in pure shock and really believed I died. I never saw them dramatizing so much about me before and soon felt a shit load of shame. So, I apologized for my runaway and almost wanted to apologize for my whole being too. Clearly, they demanded to know the reason. I yelled in frustration, cried a river of emotions and opened my heart. I told them everything I thought and knew I disappointed them again. I felt so worthless and blameworthy. But they wanted to know the reason why I just couldn’t either embrace or love them like they loved me … But then a washing wave of truth was dumped onto me: Yeah, I then finally heard the shocking truth that I was secretly adopted, given away by people that had to give away their baby due to financial and social struggles and wanted the best possible home. I stared at them, not blinking, as if I could rewind the words. Adopted? My body felt numb, like I wasn’t even standing in that room anymore, like the world had tilted on its axis. Every harsh word, every disappointed look—none of it made sense, and yet, it all suddenly did. I wasn’t theirs. I never was. And the why of the adoption was just as stunning. My parents weren’t fertile as I learned through the then following harsh argument. To them, I was a gift of God and was priceless to them whatsoever. And, oh man, it took me 18 years to really understand, why they loved me so much. It was their biggest wish to have ME, their oh so stupidly ungrateful son. I finally understood that it was not my fault that I could not be like my adoptive father. That was also the reason why they had never been REALLY mad at me. That’s why both of my parents still weren’t hating me. Tears flowed after they embraced me and helped me to finally make me accept myself as well as their love. And to my surprise, they even turned out to be proud for multiple reasons: I proved I could survive on my own. After all these years it was a wonder. I finally grew up and got a body keeping up with me. I then was so utterly thankful that I wanted to celebrate this as my zeroth birthday – this time without any hard feelings. We never could have been happier that day. Finally, we were the perfect family. Well, at least for a week… Too bad things always can get worse – and they did. Yes, they fucking DID when my mother was dying from cancer. You know, imagine a woman, who is an absolute beast of a beauty and even more loving – maybe not as muscular but still a fit, tall, athletic and very successful mother. Yeah, she suddenly was degenerating very fast. I remember way too well how we called the ambulance. Her skin already was pale, almost translucent under the hospital lights when they tried to operate her. But it was too late already, when her breath barely made a sound in the suffocating quiet of the room. Shit, I can’t recommend watching someone die. You won’t forget this moment and every single detail. For example, the sterile smell of antiseptic stung my nose as I stood frozen by her bedside, unable to believe this was the same woman who once filled every space with her warmth and strength. My throat tightened, my breath hitched, when we saw how he hands just fell to hear side. One could watch her lifeforce going to heaven. The silence between my father and me was heavy with all the things we couldn’t say. My father, the man who had never once faltered, had tears running silently down his cheeks. He only reached out, hesitated, then rested his hand on my shoulder. No words. But for the first time, I felt his strength in a way I hadn’t before—it was in his fragility, in his willingness to let me see him break. And I knew what he thought. “How can she be gone … NOW!? This isn’t fair!” It wasn’t fair that we ended up as a happy family for only one week. Our very intense relationship flew past my eye. She was the one who put the most lifeforce into me. And suddenly, she, all of her, was gone! Just seeing her peacefully lying there on the dying bed that day in the hospital made my heart break - just like my father’s. But it was so much more… I felt SO utterly and thoroughly ashamed I wished that I could turn back time. I couldn’t bear to even imagine that all the stress caused by me might have even accelerated her decease. I felt our hearts just breaking even more just thinking about it. We both cried a lot since that time, thinking about her. All the things she did for us. All those things we had been through. All those moments I love-hated my mother. All those things were not fair. But I guess this was the way I had to learn that life isn’t fair – it never was. But there was one good thing at least, which happened after all: My “dad”, how I finally decided to call him, and I could not grow closer from then on. All “just” because we lost someone… someone we truly loved by heart at our most honest core… Dad and I then really needed time for ourselves. On the one hand, it was so clear that dad needed some time for himself as he really suffered it all. On the other hand, I wanted to get out of the city to leave everything behind and made that plan become real. I felt bad for just fleeing away but stood up for it and put my head through quite a life of a young adult in a city down in the south. But scratch that sidenote as the pandemic took all my progress away. I then begged for returning back home. Over the phone, dad then warmheartedly accepted my request and even asked for it. I heard through family-visits he would love to keep someone safe again. At the end, it almost seemed like he actually wanted to protect me and thus agreed on me moving back in. To be honest: I was very surprised and decided to show my thankfulness once done moving back home… After we haven’t seen us in years, I wasn’t sure how Jad would react though. No surprise, as my father’s and my personal story resulted in quite a difficult relationship. He was mad at first that I left him alone. Thus, there were many more feelings of failure since the perfect guidance by my once perfect seeming father. Meeting him after years, I clearly stated that things changed. And since the loss of my mother, I know we had found some solace in a closer relationship - despite the hardships – and at least would listen to each other… Five days passed since a truck brought all my stuff from my town back to my true home. I literally spent days to move back in and cramped all my stuff into one room. Dad offered me to get mom’s space too - which was a bitter pill to swallow for the both of us. I cried with him once again and then showed some brave strength by basically taking all the space. I swore I’d put good use to it.… But anyway, this shall be the past. Chapter 1: The secret diary Moving to the present and back into my old home, I have it in the final package and therefor with me today, whilst I am returning from my ex, which no one knows about because I utterly hate him by now. He basically didn’t want to give my stuff back at first because he actually believed I’d return to him soon. I made that error in thought REALLY clear today… Anyways, I am happy – very happy. My most inner secrets are saved and along with me once again. What they are? Well, my adolescence was necessary to realize that “the struggle” is still real – more than ever since I came out of the closet. And there is a secret feeling about my dad I hid for a long time. “Oh boy, if he knew that I have a crush on him… He clearly IS my fucking bare-naked fantasy – alive and fleshed out…”, I thought when I saw my dad again. For many reasons plus this one on top, I am perfectly happy to be his son and even happier to keep him company again… Coming to the present, I hear Jad, my buff dad, greeting me. I happily answer: “Hey dad! How was work?“ "Today was GREAT. People really don’t wanna mess with your big dad. Just had to laugh after a customer wanted to speak the manager about some hypocritical shit. But your Jad of a Dad Chad really just had to flex his pecs to make them re-consider the importance of their problem.", he rumbles with a deep humorous tone. "How was your day? Are you done moving in? Has been half a decade since you lived here with your old lonely dad!", he asks in curiosity and reminisces back with a wave of nostalgia. “Yeah … Again, MANY thanks for helping me out, dad!”, I say as I carry stuff into my second and new room. He waves it off and grants it for his own pleasure. One and a half heads taller than me, he stands at the door to my room. His glance at me is warm when he winks at me while I come back to get the last box – which is REALLY heavy. I intend to put those secretive books up my cupboard for now – the storage for my most personal stuff. But there, he obviously still must have been glancing at my cute ass and sees me struggle with the lifting. He asks: “Need some help, cub?” Having a ton of books inside the box and over my head and I pant with a red face: “Uh… yeah, please help me!” "Sure, where do you want it to go?", he offers his help. I point to said position and feel the weight suddenly vanishing. He just effortlessly lifts it up. But there something happens. Clearly grabbing the box too strong at one side, he sees a golden book dropping out. He gasps due to his mistake: “I am sorry, son. Your box is... broken and…” He focusses his eyes for a second. “‘My journal, don’t read!’?", he mutters himboly as he suddenly reads out loud the title. "My son has a diary?", he almost laughs. “What are you laughing at?”, I say as he wonders jokingly what’s inside. He slowly bends down with his massive glutes pushing out and reaches down. There, I am quick enough to give him no chance to grab it. He smiles and grins: "Cute. I wonder what you write about, hehe...“ “It’s nothing, dad!”, I say nervously. As I hide it under my arm, I go into my bedroom and put it away to where I hope he won’t put his nose in – my sextoys. I suddenly notice he followed me like a puppy and still looks WAY too curious, so I throw a pillow to distract him. “That’s personal stuff, dad!”, I shout annoyed, secretly loving this though. “Recovered from the attack” and laughing DEEPLY, he then towers there, grins widely and asks: “Huh, that important?” I blush even harder and yell childishly while trying to push him out of my room. The heavy bull doesn’t even move a centimetre and laughs. “Dad, come on!”, I growl. "You surely wonder how heavy I am, hehe.", he brags and grins for moments. “Dad, stop it!”, I yell as he finally lets me slowly push him out. He glances at the position of my book at the other end of the room until he is out… Then he is still curious, so I obscure his viewangle into my room with my body. I just somehow have to get his thoughts off the book, so I joke: “It’s easier to get a job that pays the bills than make you not look at it, huh?! I almost had thanked you for the help, dad!” "Bahahaha, you are welcome, buddy. Missed you a lot all these years, my cheeky boy...", he says. Just in this second, I see our size difference in the mirror of my wardrobe. Just imagine my 160cm tall and skinny being meeting a hairy double of Craig Golias. That is the kind of size difference we are talking about by the way! There, he suddenly bearhugs me, clearly physically starved for hugs. He even holds me up into the air for a few seconds. Blushing by all that love, I act like it’s too much (without making me hard, that is). He apologizes with his own blushing face, still being too fucking charming. I just have to turn away but then see him tower above me with his hulking pecs and wide shoulders. Standing in front of me, a tease-full moment of flexing passes by. I daringly glance up at him. “Could you please leave me alone?”, I ask. "Well... OK.", he soundly clears his throat. "Gonna prepare dinner then.", he announces. “Uhh… Yeah… Ok dad…”, I mutter exhaustedly…

Chapter 1 The night sky erupted in a blinding flash, followed by an earth-shattering boom. Ollie's world spun violently as the car careened off the road, metal screeching against asphalt. "Mom! Dad!" Ollie cried out, his voice hoarse with panic. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils as he struggled to move. "I can't... I can't feel my legs!" Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the chaos. "Hey! Can you hear me? I'm coming to get you out!" Brock's muscular form appeared at the shattered window, his open flannel shirt revealing a glimpse of his impressive chest beneath a tight tank top. With a grunt, he wrenched the door open. "Easy now, kid. I've got you," Brock said, his strong arms wrapping around Ollie's slender frame. "What's your name?" "O-Ollie," he stammered, wincing as Brock pulled him free. "My parents... they're still inside!" Brock's eyes darted to the front of the car, assessing the situation. "I'll get them. Just stay put, alright?" As Brock turned back toward the wreckage, a deafening explosion rocked the night. Flames engulfed the vehicle, the heat searing against their skin. "No!" Ollie screamed, trying to lunge forward despite his immobile legs. Brock caught him, holding him back. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry," Brock's voice cracked with genuine anguish. He fumbled for his phone, dialing quickly. "This is Dr. Brock Steele. I need emergency services on Route 7, about 10 miles outside of Millbrook. Car explosion, two fatalities, one injured teenager." Ollie sobbed against Brock's chest, leaving streaks of blood on the white tank top. Brock's arm tightened around him protectively. "Listen, Ollie," Brock said, his tone urgent but gentle. "The ambulance might take a while to get here. I'm going to drive you to the hospital myself, okay? We need to get you checked out." "But my parents..." Ollie choked out. Brock's face was a mask of sympathy and determination. "There's nothing we can do for them now. We need to focus on you. Can you trust me?" Ollie looked up, meeting Brock's intense gaze. Despite the horror of the situation, he felt an inexplicable sense of safety in this stranger's arms. He nodded weakly. "That's good, kid. You're being real brave," Brock said, scooping Ollie up as if he weighed nothing. "My car's just up the road. We'll get you help, I promise." As Brock carried him away from the burning wreckage, Ollie caught another glimpse of the man's muscular chest, peeking out from his partially unbuttoned shirt. Even in his grief-stricken state, Ollie couldn't help but notice the strength and warmth radiating from Brock's body. "Stay with me, Ollie," Brock's deep voice rumbled. "Keep talking. Tell me about yourself." As they made their way to Brock's car, Ollie's world narrowed to the sound of that voice and the feeling of those strong arms around him, a lifeline in the midst of unimaginable tragedy. Ollie's voice trembled as he spoke, his words punctuated by quiet sobs. "I... I just graduated high school. Was supposed to start college in the fall." Brock carefully maneuvered Ollie into the passenger seat of his car, his strong hands gentle as he buckled the seatbelt around the injured teen. "That's great, Ollie. What were you planning to study?" "Medicine," Ollie replied, his voice distant. "My dad... he was a doctor too. Always wanted me to follow in his footsteps." Brock's heart clenched at the pain in Ollie's voice. He reached over, giving the young man's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure he was very proud of you." As Brock sped towards the hospital, Ollie stared blankly out the window, tears streaming down his face. "I can't believe they're gone. What am I supposed to do now?" "One step at a time, kid," Brock said softly. "Right now, we focus on getting you better. The rest... we'll figure it out." They pulled up to the ER entrance, Brock jumping out and rushing to Ollie's side. He scooped the teen into his arms once more, carrying him through the automatic doors. "I need help here!" Brock called out, his voice commanding attention. Nurses and doctors swarmed around them, peppering Brock with questions. "Car accident. Possible spinal injury, multiple lacerations and contusions. Parents DOA at the scene," Brock rattled off, his tone professional despite the urgency. Ollie found himself being transferred to a gurney, the bright lights of the ER ceiling flashing above him. He reached out, his hand grasping for Brock. "Don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice small and frightened. Brock caught Ollie's hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, Ollie. I'll be right here." As the medical team wheeled Ollie away, Brock's reassuring presence never wavered. Even as doctors and nurses worked to assess his injuries, Ollie's eyes remained locked on Brock, clinging to the strength and comfort the man provided. Hours later, Ollie lay in a hospital bed, his body bandaged and his heart heavy with grief. Brock sat beside him, still wearing his blood-stained tank top, his flannel shirt discarded somewhere along the way. "Why did you stay?" Ollie asked, his voice hoarse from crying. Brock leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Because you needed someone. And because... I know what it's like to lose everything in a single moment." Ollie's eyes widened, a flicker of understanding passing between them. In that instant, he felt a connection to Brock that went beyond mere gratitude. "Thank you," Ollie whispered, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "For saving me. For being here." Brock reached out, gently brushing a tear from Ollie's face. "You're not alone, Ollie. I promise you that." As Ollie lay in the hospital bed, his eyes drifted to Brock, taking in the man's appearance. Despite the blood stains on his white tank top, Brock's muscular physique was impossible to ignore. The fabric stretched taut across his broad chest, hinting at the powerful pectorals beneath. His shoulders and arms were equally impressive, the muscles flexing with each small movement. Even in his grief-stricken state, Ollie couldn't help but notice Brock's rugged handsomeness. The man's chiseled jawline, strong features, and kind eyes created a striking combination. However, given the tragedy that had just unfolded, Ollie felt no stirrings of arousal, only a deep appreciation for Brock's presence and support. Brock's appearance exudes raw masculinity and mature allure. His face is chiseled and handsome, with strong, defined features that hint at his 42 years. Dark, expressive eyebrows frame intense eyes that seem to hold depths of experience. His jawline is sharp and masculine, covered in a light dusting of stubble that accentuates his rugged appeal. Fine lines around his eyes and mouth add character, speaking to a life lived fully. His hair is short and neatly styled, dark and thick, cut close on the sides with a bit more length on top. It's the kind of no-nonsense cut that requires minimal maintenance but always looks put-together. Brock's body is a testament to his dedication as both a scientist and personal trainer. His frame is large and imposing, with broad shoulders tapering down to a solid core. His chest is expansive and well-developed, straining against the fabric of his shirts. His arms are thick and powerful, veins visible beneath the skin, speaking to both strength and vascularity. How I imagine what Brock would look like at this point of story, but less muscular, no abs, less body hair Model reference https://www.instagram.com/sergey.nyzhnyk/ A knock at the door drew their attention as a nurse and doctor entered the room. "Hello, Ollie," the doctor said gently, glancing at his chart. "I'm Dr. Patel, and this is Nurse Johnson. We're here to check on your injuries and get you started on treatment." Ollie nodded weakly, wincing as the nurse began to carefully remove the temporary bandages applied in the ER. Dr. Patel examined each wound, her skilled hands probing gently for signs of deeper damage. "The lacerations are fairly superficial," she noted, "but we'll need to clean and stitch a few of the deeper ones. Any pain or discomfort, Ollie?" "My legs," Ollie said, his voice strained. "I still can't feel them properly." Dr. Patel's expression turned serious. "We'll need to run some tests to assess the extent of the spinal injury. An MRI and CT scan will give us a better idea of what we're dealing with." As the doctor continued her examination, Nurse Johnson began cleaning and dressing Ollie's wounds. Brock watched, his brow furrowed with concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, his deep voice filled with genuine care. Nurse Johnson glanced up, offering Brock a small smile. "Just being here is helping, sir. Support from loved ones is crucial in the healing process." Brock nodded, his eyes meeting Ollie's. In that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them - Brock would be the support Ollie needed, even if they had only just met. Dr. Patel finished her assessment, making notes on Ollie's chart. "We'll get you scheduled for those scans as soon as possible. In the meantime, try to rest. Your body has been through a lot." As the medical team left the room, Brock moved closer to Ollie's bedside. "You heard the doc, kid. Rest up. I'll be right here if you need anything." Ollie managed a small nod, his eyelids growing heavy. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the night's events finally caught up with him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep. Brock settled into the chair beside Ollie's bed, his muscular form seeming to dwarf the small hospital furniture. He watched over the young man, a silent guardian ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. In that quiet moment, a bond began to form between them, a connection forged in the crucible of shared tragedy and unexpected compassion. As the day progressed, Ollie found himself being wheeled through the hospital corridors, the sterile walls and fluorescent lights blurring together. Brock walked alongside the gurney, his presence a constant comfort in the unfamiliar surroundings. "We're taking you for the CT scan now, Ollie," Nurse Johnson explained gently. "It's a painless procedure, but it's important for us to get a clear picture of your spinal injury." Ollie nodded, his hands gripping the sides of the gurney. The fear of the unknown weighed heavily on his mind, compounded by the grief that still consumed him. Brock seemed to sense Ollie's anxiety. He placed a large, comforting hand on the young man's shoulder. "You've got this, kid. I'll be waiting for you when you're done." Ollie managed a weak smile, drawing strength from Brock's unwavering support. As he was positioned on the CT scanner, he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of Brock's hand rather than the cold, clinical atmosphere. The scan seemed to take an eternity, the whirring and clicking of the machine filling Ollie's ears. When it was finally over, he was returned to his room, exhausted and emotionally drained. Brock was there, just as he had promised. He helped the nurses settle Ollie back into bed, his strong arms gentle and reassuring. Dr. Patel arrived shortly after, her expression serious as she reviewed the scan results. "Ollie, the CT scan shows significant swelling around your spinal cord. While there's no evidence of a complete spinal cord injury, the swelling is putting pressure on the nerves, which is likely causing the numbness and weakness in your legs." Ollie felt a wave of fear wash over him. "Will I... will I be able to walk again?" Dr. Patel met his gaze, her eyes filled with compassion. "It's too early to say for certain. Spinal injuries can be unpredictable. But we'll be starting you on high-dose corticosteroids to reduce the swelling, and we'll be monitoring your condition closely." Brock stepped forward, his brow furrowed with concern. "What's the next step, doc?" "We'll be admitting Ollie to the hospital for further treatment and observation," Dr. Patel explained. "He'll need intensive physical therapy and rehabilitation to give him the best chance at recovery." Ollie felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, the weight of his situation crashing down on him. Not only had he lost his parents, but now he faced the possibility of never walking again. Brock seemed to sense Ollie's distress. He sat on the edge of the bed, his muscular frame dipping the mattress as he took Ollie's hand in his own. "Hey, look at me, Ollie. You're not facing this alone. I'll be with you every step of the way." Ollie met Brock's gaze, finding strength and comfort in those intense eyes. He nodded, swallowing back his tears. "Thank you, Brock. I don't... I don't know what I would do without you." Brock smiled softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of Ollie's hand. "You don't have to worry about that, kid. I'm not going anywhere." As the hospital staff bustled around them, making preparations for Ollie's admission, the young man clung to Brock's presence like a lifeline. The road ahead was uncertain and filled with challenges, but with Brock by his side, Ollie felt a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Ollie lay in his hospital bed, his mind began to wander. The trauma of the day mixed with the strong painkillers, creating a hazy state where reality blurred with fantasy. He found himself imagining Brock as the muscular daddy figure he'd always secretly dreamed about. In his mind's eye, Ollie saw Brock's powerful arms wrapping around him protectively, those broad pecs pressed against his back. He imagined Brock's deep voice whispering words of comfort and love, calling him "son" in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Ollie's cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and desire. Here he was, in the midst of tragedy, entertaining these forbidden thoughts about the man who had saved his life. He tried to push the images away, but they clung to the edges of his consciousness, a tempting escape from the harsh reality of his situation.

Here is a new story from a friend featuring one of my favorite subjects. Big muscle daddies . I'd been talking about a story like this with my friend and they decided to write a story on it. Just to be clear, this is not an incest story. And it follows in a similar genre as my Elongro and Performance Incentive stories. So there may be elements of domination, humiliation, cucking, etc. Again, just to be clear, I did not write this, but was given permission by the author to share it here. Enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 1 - Dr. Tait Holden, MD, Ph.D. sat in his office at 345 Park Avenue Manhattan dictating another report. It had been an exhausting few months. Since he attended the college football championship game in January there had only been a few days that he had been home. Travel all over the nation, living in hotel after hotel after hotel. Dozens upon dozens of days long interviews with clients. Just as many or more consultant meetings and video conferences each week. Having to attend gladhand receptions and dinners with the more hands-on owners when he would much rather have been home. But the end of the yearly ritual was within sight. It was now early May. He was back in his Manhattan loft full time, and, at last, the busiest part of his work year was almost over. That was not to say Tait actually liked New York City. It was just a necessary evil. At least the Spring weather was nice here. He just had too much Nebraska in him to ever feel comfortable in a two bedroom - two bath top floor loft in Chelsea that he bought strictly for its vaulted ceilings or in a suit in the corporate offices. In fact, he often mused about the size of the mansion he could have bought back in Omaha for what he spent on 1200 square feet here. But, as much as he did not like Manhattan, at least he wasn’t always on an airplane living out of a suitcase. He could get some fresh air on the roof of his building after his morning run with a cup of coffee and a quick hot tub boil to relax his quads and calves before work. Cramped, crowded subway commutes were never fun for him, but having his own kitchen each night made sticking to his new workout and gym goals much easier. Those had been KILLER to maintain on the road to be sure. But, he never turned down a challenge. Besides, he thought he had progressed quite nicely on those goals over travel season, all things considered. Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of reports and these meetings and he would finally be able to close the Chelsea loft for the summer and take some vacation time at his Montana cabin. In the remote wilderness with just himself, the animals, and his private gym, he could really focus on his training undisturbed until fall. Sure there would be some work between the first day of training camp and week one, but that would be the exception, not the rule. Tait was reciting long lines of dry medical jargon into his headset, when an unexpected buzz brought him out of his notes. He pressed pause on the mic control, and the main switchboard operator’s voice sounded. “Doctor Holden. Sean Foley from the PGA is on 7-2788 for you.” Tait smiled to himself as he told the operator to transfer the call to him. Sean was one of the best professional golf coaches on the planet, counting players the likes of Tiger Woods and Justin Rose among his clients. Getting this type of call would be unheard of for most doctors, but for Tait, it was run of the mill. He was, after all, one of the preeminent sports psychiatrists/psychologists in the United States. Tait flipped another switch on his mic to change from the computer dictation program to the phone lines, and a button on his desk phone connected the call. “Sean. It’s been quite a while. How are you man?” “I’m good, Tait. Covid took a toll on business, but what didn’t it take a toll on. How are you?” the man replied. “Trust me, I understand that. As for me - rough part of my season winding down and craving a vacation,” Tait said. “So, what can I do for you? You finally want to cash in that favor I owe you? If so, I know this perfect spot just off the coast of Miami. Private island, warm–” The voice on the phone quipped. “No way. Having you on the hook for a favor is too valuable to give up on just anything.” Then the voice became earnest. “Listen, Tait, this is - rather personal. Well, more personal for you I dare say. I don’t know if it is my business to tell you or if you already know. But you're a friend, and I have to say something. “Something is very wrong, Tait. Have you talked to Kane lately?” Tait’s jovial mood changed instantly. “Not for months, Sean. Between the rush for the draft and - well - you know - Kane being Kane. Thought it best to give him some space and let him call me. What's –” The voice interrupted. “That fits, Tait. But this is different. Fuck, Tait. I'm worried. Let me explain.” *** In Mountain View, California, a twenty-five year old man sat watching the sun rise in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood in which anyone could be happy. Except that the young man wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy for months. Not since that day at the gym. Since then, even his fiancé, who at one time made him unconsciously smile just being in her presence, couldn't rouse him from his preoccupied doldrums. It all started after that guy – no, he couldn't face it. It was too – Suddenly, his cellphone rang. The iPhone played a ringtone he had not heard in ages - Ozzy Osborne's “Patient Number 9.” The young man literally groaned as he picked up the phone to see *RESTRICTED NUMBER* as the caller. That ringtone was no accident then… Why now? He thought. Why now? Of all people on earth. With what happened, why him? The universe must hate me…. But the young man knew there was no way to ignore the call or the caller. No way to resist the inevitable. No one ever resisted this caller. Not in all the years he had known him. It was like trying to resist the gravity of a black hole. The only way to avoid it was to go around it and never interact with it. But now, he had to. The young man took a long breath and blew it out. Time to face reality. He clicked on the answer icon. “Hi Dad.” “Hi, Son. How are you?” a deep voice replied from the box. “OK. Just the usual,” the young man lied. “What’s up?” “I'm going to be flying into San Francisco tomorrow night and staying all next week. I would like to speak with you and meet Lacey while I am there. I know it is kind of hard for you to bring the girl home to “meet the parents” so to speak. But while I’m there, I thought it might be a good time. It is way past time I met my future daughter-in-law. “Are you both available for lunch Thursday? Say Hog Island Oyster Company at 12:30? It's a bit of overkill I know, but I want to make a good first impression on my new family. And I really want to see how you are. My treat, of course.” Oh fuck, the young man thought. Not just interacting but flying straight into orbit of the black hole. Then, he calmed a bit. Dad has to meet Lacey sometime though. Maybe it can just be lunch if he is working. I hope so. I can't be exposed to hi- The young man banished the thought he was about to have before he fully had it. It was too creepy to ever contemplate. It was wrong too. But it came again. And again. And again… The young man tried to clear his head. He yelled out so that it could be heard by the deep voiced man. “Lacey, do you have time Thursday afternoon for lunch? Dad is on the phone.” In response, a beautiful young woman came around the hallway from the bedroom into the living room. Her face was beaming at the prospect. Their marriage will become much more real after finally meeting her future father-in-law in person. She immediately agreed. “Lacey said it’s fine Dad, so I guess so.” “Great. I am staying at the Four Seasons for work. So, I will meet you both at the restaurant. Just ask for my reservation. I am really looking forward to it, Son. It has been far too long.” As the phone disconnected, the two men on opposite ends of the country - and from the same but opposite worlds - each breathed a sigh. In New York, Tait hated lying to his son. He could count on one hand how many times he had, and some of those had been misdirections about Christmas presents. He had finished in California weeks ago. But something was wrong, and his son needed him. In California, Kane Holden's stomach tied into a knot. He loved his dad, but his father was more of a force of nature than a man. Tait Holden was… His god of a father was coming. And after the dude at the gym, the universe really did hate him. *** When Kyle and Barbara Holden welcomed their fifth child and last child - their first son after four daughters - into the world in 1978 it was a dream come true. Every man dreams of having a son, and that was especially true of the Nebraska cattle rancher. He was not only from a long line of cattlemen, but also a long line of athletes. He himself had been a full scholarship O-line player at the University of Nebraska. His brother had been on the 1968 Olympic wrestling team. And before he settled onto his own ranch, his father had played for twelve seasons with the Phillies and the Dodgers through the 1950’s. His father’s two World Series rings sat proudly in the office at his ranch to that very day. But, at that moment in Creighton Memorial St. Joseph’s Hospital, no one grasped that the infant they named after his two grandpa’s, Tait Michael Holden, would tower over every accomplishment anyone in their families ever had. From the start, it was obvious that Tait was a special baby. First sign was that he was big for a newborn, being 8 pounds 12 ounces. But that big baby would only become BIGGER. Beyond that, Tait was speaking basic sentences at a year old. Reading basic stories at 3. When most little guys were only interested in Sesame Street or GI Joe cartoons, Tait was voraciously learning anything, showing a curiosity in everything from the classroom to snakes and prairie dogs on the ranch to how the cattle were managed for market. By the age of 12, Tait had raised and sold his first steer after winning first place with him at the State Fair. And then another, and then two, and then four. By the time he had graduated high school, Tait had well over eighty thousand dollars in savings from selling his Fair animals and prize money. Tait would have been an incredible rancher if that had been his destiny - but his academic and farm accomplishments were mirrored by his physicality and sports performance. Like all the Holden men, Tait inherited tremendous physical and athletic potential, and in Nebraska countryside tradition, Kyle started his son playing flag football as soon as he was of age. Tait took to the sport like a duck to water. By the time he was a high school freshman, Tait was already playing varsity as a hulking 6’4” terror of a tight end. At high school graduation, he had won every football award possible for high schoolers in the state of Nebraska and more individual player awards than any athlete in Nebraska state history to that point. Of course, Tait was recruited by practically every single division one athletic program that had even the smallest hope of landing him. The only thing that disappointed Kyle at the end was his son’s final decision of where to commit. Instead of one of the highly visible national programs, Tait chose Stanford. He explained that he wanted to develop his mind as well as his football skills, just in case he were injured and couldn’t play and Stanford could certainly do that. Besides, he reasoned, no matter the team’s record, as long as he played his very best game and learned under legendary Stanford head coach Bill Walsh - the NFL scouts would come to him. And come they did as Tait became a once in a generation position player. When Tait’s body finally stopped growing, he was just a fraction under 6’9” tall, and the strength coaching and nutrition staff transformed him into a 315 pound gridiron titan. And it was by no means a flabby 300 pounds. Tait was obsessive in the gym and with diet, so much so that the layer of fat so many tall footballers had simply wasn't there. Tait’s genetics would have allowed him to become a pro bodybuilder if he was not a football player. His body and strikingly good looks made him into what would one day be called the poster child of “aesthetics.” Tait had a 61 inch chest, 22 inch biceps, with a wasp waist of 32 inches that was the same size as each quad. He looked to literally be carved from rock, more like a giant Frank Zane on the field than a Junior Seau. Of course, any college footballer who was 6’9” and more than 300 pounds was tried out on the line and Tait played magnificently there. But, his true skills were at tight end. His gigantic hands made it next to impossible for a quarterback to miss him when called upon to make a catch. And Tait was extremely good at making up for bad throws so that they still wound up in his mitts. His massive legs could push that body at incredible speed for his size, and compared to defensive secondary players who were 100 pounds lighter than him - trying to tackle him was like trying to stop a freight train. And when Tait was called on to make a block for a running back, those who were unfortunate enough to be targeted felt like they had been plowed over by a Union Pacific locomotive. The nickname stuck - so that when the “Freight Train” made a play, the Stanford student section would start chanting lyrics, singing along to a new song by Metallica that was first sung just a few miles away in San Francisco playing over the stadium speakers - No Leaf Clover - “Then it comes to be that the soothing light / At the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way / Here it comes.” Tait’s physical gifts were built right along with his mental skill on the field. Under Walsh and his position coaches, Tait had also become an incredible football mind. He absorbed every lesson Walsh and the coaches taught - from how plays unfold across the whole field, to how his own position operated in various schemes to how plays themselves were drawn, even how the players' workouts augmented play making. Tait employed these skills relentlessly. He might have been a freight train in one play but in the next he could work with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. That versatility made him almost impossible for opposing teams to defend against, Tait was one of the few players on the college level Walsh ever trusted to have the quarterback or center make audibles in an instant based on the defense. What generational greats like Peyton Manning was to Tennessee or Charles Woodson was to Michigan, Tait Holden was at Stanford. After four seasons, when Tait finally declared for the NFL draft, he was a Stanford team captain, a 4-time First Team Academic and on the field All-American. It was rumored that Tait was the inspiration for the creation of the Mackey Trophy to recognize the best tight end in college football since he never won a Heisman. Nevertheless, he was an easy top ten first round pick. Tait spent 8 years in the NFL during the 2000s, amassing 2 Superbowl rings, 7 consecutive selections for the pro bowl, and 4 first team all pro rankings. It was argued in NFL circles that if he had continued playing, he would have been tied with Jason Witten and Tony Gonzalez as the greatest tight ends of the modern NFL. He was definitely heading for the Hall of Fame. But, unexpectedly, at the age of 30, Tait retired from professional sports. The official reason Tait gave was that he wanted to make sure he maintained his health from possible injury or concussion disorder. CTE was becoming more and more popular in the discussion of player health and Tait was a massively hard tackler. But the real reason was very different. Social media barely existed at the end of Tait’s career, and at that time the press barely covered player families unless they were famous beforehand. No one ever spoke of the players' children. So, few outside his team and fewer true friend’s knew about Tait’s wife. Her name was Jess Walker. Tait met her at a party when he was a Stanford freshman. Next to Tait, she was tiny at 5’1” and 105 pounds. But she was perfect for her spot on the gymnastics team. And she had gotten involved in a new sport from a gymnastics coach in Santa Cruz that he called “Crossfit.” For the first time in his life, Tait was thunderstruck by a girl. He was awestruck that such a petite girl could be so fit and strong and do the things she could do. But it was every single conversation with Jess that pulled Tait in. He could just lie on a couch and hold her and talk with her for days on end it seemed. They soon began exclusive dating and became quite the item on campus. But, as sometimes happens, in their junior year, Jess retired from team sports as she was pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby boy - Matthew Kane Holden. Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. *** Kane and Lacey walked into Hog Island Oyster Company about ten minutes before the reservation time. When they approached the maitre’d desk and asked for the Holden reservation, he looked at them rather judgmentally, said they did not take reservations, and then asked them for identification. Once the asswipe was satisfied, he gave them one last sneer and invited them to follow. They were not prepared for where they were going. Apparently the restaurant did take reservations - for Tait Holden. They were escorted to an entire section of reserved outdoor patio seating. In front of them stretched one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay and the bay bridge that anyone could take in. Before they took their seats, they went to the edge of the pier to take in the sight. Of course, for all except the maitre’d, there was another view most of the males had taken in as much as they could. Kane didn’t have to look around to sense the eyes locked onto them - well her. Lacey. Kane was accustomed to it by now. It was something similar to the reaction his father received from women, a reaction he knew he would see and hear again soon enough. Part of him rather enjoyed the looks of envy directed at him. And part of him felt insanely self-conscious and inadequate, as those same looks that were awed by Lacey judged him to be totally lacking compared to the woman on his arm. Lacey Masters had it all. She was a 27 year old drop-dead beauty. Daughter of a Bank of America executive. She had competed twice for Ms. California, and the only thing that truly held her back from winning the title was her 5’6” stature. Like his parents, Kane met Lacey at Stanford, where she had been a cheerleader. Of course, she was just as stunning back in college as now, which cowed Kane. But, he also felt more than a little intimidated by her intellect. She was no stereotypical empty airhead. Lacey was a brilliant financial mind. Even if she had not been a banker's daughter and born to the work, her skills at winning in the markets singled her out as being an up and comer in the corporate world. She worked for the investment firm Dodge and Cox as an analyst and personal portfolio manager, already bringing in a very solid quarter million dollar salary before bonuses each year. She also had a fantastic personal portfolio that seemed to grow whenever the stock market bell rang. In every way, she was the proverbial catch. Then, there was the man beside her. In a way that no one could actually put a finger on, Kane Holden just didn't seem to match up. It wasn’t that Kane was bad looking, True, Lacey was dressed in a fantastic dress and heels that made her stand a couple inches taller than Kane, who in bare feet stood exactly the same height as Lacey. True, his father had the chiseled, rugged good looks of romance and cowboy western novel cover models. But, Kane was not bad looking at all. His features were softer. Kinder. He was what most girls in high school and college described over and over as “cute” - at those moments when those same girls were alone comparing the guys around them. While Lacey was closer to a 10, Kane was more of a 7 or 8. But he was not ugly by any stretch. It wasn't that Kane was lacking in any sort of lack of physical fitness. Sure, Kane had gained about ten pounds since college, but that didn’t mean that he had a full out dad bod or anything. Sure, while Lacey had her beauty queen looks and religiously worked out with weights and yoga, Kane was not exactly a slouch. He had inherited the Holden family athletic gene and had been a 5 year wrestler at Stanford. And now, he was pursuing his other sporting gift - golf. Kane had taken up golf in high school after wrestling season and discovered he had quite a knack for it. With great coaching, Kane had capitalized on that talent, having managed to secure a spot on the PGA tour two years prior. No one in their right mind would claim that a Stanford wrestler and a professional golfer was not successful. It was just that Kane had inherited his mother’s height and weight rather than his father’s - as Kane wrestled at the 141 pound weight class. And unlike his father’s gargantuan, ripped muscles when he was in college sports, Kane was again softer - even when he was in wrestling shape. Kane had lithe muscles and a hint of abs under his shirt rather than the etched, deep 8-pack of his father. Kane had succeeded in wrestling and golf as a good tactician, with flexibility, speed, and technique as allies - the skills of a gymnast that he had inherited from his mother. He just didn’t have the overwhelming physical power combined with tactics that his father had - or that Lacey had in her own more feminine way. And while just becoming a Stanford wrestler and pro golfer was successful, he was middle of the road in both. He was good… good enough. But, he was never going to win the way his Dad and wife did. Kane’s personality didn’t quite match Lacey, that was true. They seemed to be from the “opposites that attract” spectrum rather than being “birds of a feather.” Kane was reserved and somewhat introverted compared to Lacey’s extroverted nature. With his father being away so much as a pro footballer and later medical school and residency, child Kane became a pure “mama’s boy.” Thus, he was crushed when his mother passed. Tait had been as well, but he had an adult perspective that the ten year old Kane did not. Tait had engaged the best therapy possible for his son, of course. And the giant man had been nothing but loving and gentle with his son, sensing his quiet, reserved nature. As Kane was treated by many others in his life. To a fair share of women, that vulnerable side was seen as an endearing quality, again something they called “cute.” But, to others, especially certain males in the elite circles of academics and athletics and later business, Kane was a tempting target to use and step on. Except none ever wanted to face the wrath of Tait Holden or later the corporate power of the Masters. So they left Kane alone - most of them. Looks, physique, mind, attitude, personality. It wasn’t any of these single characteristics that made Kane not match. It was all of these things taken together. Kane was the embodiment of “one of these things is not like the others.” He shouldn’t have been. But, he was. And something deep inside him knew it. It was a feeling people could sense radiating from him. Preoccupation. Tentativeness. Withdrawal. Inadequacy. Good enough. That was Kane in a nutshell - good enough. Good enough - but not great. In any other life Kane has success people only dreamed of. But compared to the others he loved, he was totally outshined; but, he was good enough. As he and Lacey waited for water to be brought to their table, Kane was being swallowed by “good enough.” Kane was cute, vulnerable, had a scrappy puppy quality, and Lacey had come to love him for that and more. But – Tait Holden. He knew Tait Holden was quantum leaps beyond any man Lacey had ever met. Though Lacey was certainly accustomed to getting attention and getting hit upon and being a very strong, dominant woman - she had never been exposed to the quality and quantity of Alpha male Tait Holden in person brought to the table. Kane had no idea how she would react. He knew Lacey loved him. Or it certainly felt like it. But, he knew how his Dad affected women. He had seen it all his life. He knew Tait was no predator. He was no so called “Chad.” He never set out to seduce women. In fact, Tait had always been loyal and honorable toward his mother and any other woman as far as he knew. Stealing a woman away from another was just anathema to him. Before or after Jess death, he had never been part of the underground or above ground athlete culture for women and parties and sex. Tait considered that to be beneath him or any proper man. He had taught Kane that. And - Kane knew he carried the pain every widowed person did. He had seen it when his father had visited his mother’s grave. He still loved HER, even now. Kane thought maybe that was why he was still single. And yet… Kane knew what was coming, and it always inspired a feeling - dread. Kane felt awful about that. He felt so conflicted that he both loved and dreaded his father. His father was just… his father. No bravado, no pretend machismo, nothing at all unnatural for him. Tait was nothing but the archetypal Real Man, in every positive way. Tait had done nothing on purpose to inspire such dread in Kane. Yet, it was there, rolling in him - the feeling of being good enough under the glare of greatness. Then, there was another feeling the son had about his father - a wrong feeling Kane thought. The feeling had no name that Kane could attach to it. He buried it as much as he could as he was afraid of it. He avoided his father because of it. But that day at the gym a few months ago - that other man made him truly feel it for the first time. Kane didn’t want to relive those moments, but he did in a flash. And the feelings that burst out hit him, making his thoughts spin - worse than they already were. How would Lacey react? What would she do? What would he do? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know if these feelings around - well THEM who Tait may as well have been the leader of - was a part of him that was alpha like his father that he was uncomfortable expressing for where it could lead. He didn’t know if it was admiration or desire or hero worship or… A longing to be like his father or not like his father. It just had no name. It was like – Kane was brought back to the real world and away from the whirlwind of his thoughts by an audible gasp and rustle that went through the entire restaurant. Again, Kane instinctively knew what it was. Who it was. Again, he didn't have to look up to know what had happened to generate that response. But, just like gravity around a black hole, Kane was drawn in and turned to see. Kane’s first thought was that his father looked bigger than he remembered, if such a thing were possible. Tait towered at least a full head over… Well, everyone there. That was normal for a man who was 6’9” outside of a basketball team locker room, but it wasn't just his height. Kane could have sworn that his father was physically wider and more thickly muscled than even during his playing days. Maybe it was just his clothes, Kane reasoned. Tait was dressed in all black - black polo shirt, black slacks and leather belt, black leather dress boots. The height of simplicity. Thing was the way these clothes looked. Every stitch Tait wore was custom tailored. His clothes fit so precisely as to highlight every muscle to the hilt. His massive pecs were totally outlined, his quad development shown through his trousers, an impossibly deep v-taper from shoulders down to his waist, even some of the thicker veins were visible through the cloth. Yet, none of the clothing was so tight as to look like Tait had deliberately done it. They simultaneously looked painted on but loose and comfortable in the way only superbly custom-made clothing can. It wasn’t a matter of Tait showing his wealth or station in life or even simply vanity however. Fact was - no one made off-the-shelf clothing for someone like Tait. Simply finding pants long enough was often difficult, much less pants that could house his monstrous quads and calves. Finding size 18 shoes anywhere in any style at all was nearly impossible. Tait had needed custom clothes as long as Kane could remember. Kane heard another sharp intake of breath - this time from directly behind him. He turned to see Lacey with her mouth agape in shock. “Kane,” she barely whispered, “is… is that-” “Ya, that's Dad.” Kane replied. “Told you. Dad is a bit… different.” Lacey had seen plenty of well built, muscular, handsome men in her years. Plenty of very tall men when she cheered for Stanford basketball. Plenty of so-called Alpha males on the field and at parties and in the halls of power. But Tait - she was just floored, stunned, speechless. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. The sheer size of him. He looked like he could make up three ordinary sized men. And, if she were honest - his sheer sexiness was astonishing. His height, his classic chiseled looks, his commanding vibe. All those things she knew in scattered pieces in other men - but in Tait all combined and magnified in one. She had not even spoken to him yet, but everything about him screamed that this was a man among men. Lacey felt her crotch tingle involuntarily. An animal desire from within her. She couldn’t help it. And she wasn't alone. Every woman in the restaurant was having the same reaction. They all felt the… whatever it is that women feel in the presence of a proverbial apex alpha male. And the men - they all felt what they had in their own package either flex with the same desire or shrivel as it was obvious they were totally outclassed. As the young couple watched, Tait looked down upon the maitre'd - who came no taller than his upper pecs - and spoke to him. They could not hear what was said, but they could see the person who had been more than a bit snobbish and prickish to them physically wilt. Kane noted that the same man who asked them for their identification didn’t ask Tait for the same as he fumbled over himself. At that moment, Tait saw Kane and Lacey in the distance. He said something to the maitre’d and then just walked past him as if he no longer existed. Tait walked through the lunch time crowd like Morpheus in The Matrix. Totally direct and purposeful, yet strolling through the sea of people as if they didn’t exist. All while the maitre’d looked as if he were physically drained - perhaps like Moses after seeing the Burning Bush. As soon as Tait came through the patio doors into the open air, he looked to Kane and said heartfully, “How are you, Son?” Father and son began to walk toward each other. Lacey stood, frozen, watching. Her shock and nervousness only grew as the great man approached. It did not escape her that Tait seemed to cover the same distance that took Kane ten steps in five. The giant reached out and took his flesh and blood by the hand in a massive enveloping handshake and then pulled him into a hug. Lacey thought she could hear Kane reply, but it was lost somewhere in Tait's lower chest muscles - where Kane's head landed upon the man who had 15 inches of height on him. But - that didn't matter to her… yet. That voice - Tait’s deep, smooth, confident voice. Tait sounded like a combination of the bass of Vin Diesel and the smoothness of Lawrence Fishburne. So strong and confident, yet so soothing. That voice could crush an ego or inspire armies or wrap you in curtains of safety and security, depending on how he used it. She understood in a moment why Tait was so effective as a psychiatrist or as a team leader before that. That voice attached to that man could make you want to tell every secret you had and love doing it. She felt herself become even more aroused hearing him. She started to understand what Kane had meant about gravity. She felt pulled toward him, like a moth to a flame. The perfect voice, the perfect height, the perfect muscle, the perfect attitude - she just couldn't help it. He was so much more than Kane’s description could ever hope to convey. She noticed something else in that moment of embrace. Kane. Though they seemed so different - and they were very different - she could see so much of the son in his father and so much of the father in the son. Kane’s voice was baritone rather than bass, not quite as silky smooth and confident. But she could hear so many similarities. Kane had a quiet strength about his voice, much as the magnified version in Tait. There had been more than a few nights when she had become lost in Kane’s voice. Kane’s face and physical features were so different from Tait's - yet there was no question they were father and son. Kane was what Tait would have been if he were more of the non-descript power behind the throne type. A very different type of masculine power; yet it was there. So different - yet so similar. That similarity to Tait made Lacey desire Kane more too. She watched as Tait released Kane and together they approached the table where she was. Kane - she felt ashamed for her reaction to Tait. She loved Kane. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Kane. Why was she so pulled into wanting Tait to f– She crushed that thought. “And you must be Lacey. It is cliche but Kane has told me so much about you,” she heard as her vision became blocked by a man mountain. Lacey looked up and UP. She felt like she was a little girl again standing in front of her father as Tait held out a wide hand. She extended her own hand and Tait took it. “Dad, this is my fiancé Lacey Masters. Lacey, please meet my Dad, Tait Holden.” Kane introduced. Tait’s voice seemed to wrap the young woman in velvet smoothness. “An absolute pleasure to finally meet the girl my son was lucky enough to catch… or was it entrap?” Tait cracked a mischievous smile with just the hint of a complement toward her and the good natured rib at his son. Kane's cheeks flashed an inordinate amount of red in embarrassment. Lacey giggled. Fuck that smile is like liquid sex. What is it like to kiss–, she thought. “He didn't trap me.” She replied then added almost as an afterthought. “Well… maybe he did, but it's a trap I enjoyed falling into. The pleasure is mine, Doctor Holden.” Tait turned to his son for a moment. “Kane, you didn’t tell me you had found such a keeper of a girl. Better hold tight.” He flashed a smile again before he turned again to Lacy. “Tait, please. You’re not a client in my office, and I still have enough of the ranch in me to hate formality from my family - or close enough to family. Of course, there is one exception I make to formal custom - one I always liked with a beautiful young woman.” Tait’s voice dropped slightly, becoming almost intimate. “‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle.’” In a practiced motion mastered through thousands of repetitions, Tait raised her arm while simultaneously bowing himself and kissed her hand. Lacey shivered. Her panties very nearly became wet in desire. Tait was so big he could totally close her from the outside world if he embraced her. She could tell from the thick, weight lifter built muscles of his hand that he was strong enough to lift her to the ceiling with one arm with no effort at all. She imagined Tait in the gym putting dumbbells more than her body weight easily over his head. Her eyes wandered up his thick corded forearms that radiating raw, crushing power, and, Jesus Christ, that bulging biceps even partly under the sleeve. What must that feel like to… “That’s my Dad, just a smooth-talking, muscle-bound Cassinova.” Kane quipped. Leave it to Kane to ruin the moment, Lacey thought. She almost snapped at him for his rudeness, but was stopped by a good natured chuckle from Tait. Lacey could not tell if the laugh was a “touché” recognition of his son’s verbal jab - or an Alpha male’s amusement at a lesser being trying to stand up to someone far beyond him. Maybe it was both she thought. “Maybe so, Son. I admit to being a softy sometimes under it all. I suppose Kane learned how to trap good women from me.” Tait pointed his free hand toward Lacey’s seat. “May I?” Lacey smiled even more as she gave her ascent. Tait lowered her hand and held it as he escorted her back to her seat. As he led her, she tried to hide the fact that she was shaking at his touch. She understood intellectually that Tait was just showing proper manners. But her body didn’t want to believe it. And… she failed. Tait felt her response and suppressed a knowing smile. As Lacey thought, he wasn’t purposefully trying to do anything. It was just that he had seen this so often that he couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement. Years ago, Jess’s mother told him that common courtesy from him could be misinterpreted by many women because of the masculinity and power he conveyed. So, Tait was very cognizant of where to draw lines with most women. She was family so he would allow more than with most women. But the lines were still there with a woman so much his junior - no matter how much closer to her age his looks made him. Still, very first impressions of Lacey Masters - he liked this girl. Kane - he noticed her response too. Like his father, he had seen this so many times over the years. It was what he knew would happen and was afraid would grow. He hoped this would end when Lacey became more familiar with his father’s presence. The way his mother or grandma or aunts were around his father. They would just laugh at it when they felt it and give their men a smooch. Still he felt a jab of familiar jealousy - no woman had ever responded to a simple display of manners from him like that, much less his own fiancé . Maybe she had never responded like that to anything he had ever done. No matter how intimate. Even in… Kane’s feelings of inadequacy grew even more. And with it his internal conflict expanded. After Lacey was seated, Tait moved to the side and took the only other available seat at the table… Next to the young woman. Kane mentally kicked himself. He had unconsciously upped the level of temptation. He had chosen to sit opposite of Lacey facing her across the table out of habit - the way they always sat when going out. Tait hadn't thought anything about it. He simply slid into where he thought he should sit - within inches of Lacey. It was innocent. Anyone would sit in the only available chair… but now Kane felt even more uncomfortable. Seeing them like this, side by side - it was oddly striking. They sort of matched, like his mother. They looked so–. Awkward silence again took over, but after a few moments, Tait broke the ice. Again, he directed to Lacey. “I suppose this is when we begin the awkward small talk you do when you're meeting the in-laws? I remember mine. Maybe I should just tell some embarrassing childhood stories on Kane like any parent does when meeting their kids’ sweetheart.” Tait flashed his million dollar smile signaling the humor, which made Kane blush again - hoping against hope his Dad wasn't going to actually do that. Tait and Lacey couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was indeed the perfect thing to break the ice. But her laugh was almost like a schoolgirl enamored of the hot new guy. Of course, she was nervous meeting Tait but - that laugh. It was more than nerves. Without realizing - in a half flirtatious way, her hand moved to Tait's forearm…This time, she was definitely wet. Thank fuck what she was wearing would never let on to her condition. But she felt it. Her biology betrayed her - and what she felt. Crazy, hard muscle. Veins. What about other veins lower down. And his skin - it was an odd juxtaposition of thick and thin, hard and supple - like a weightlifter. Like a strong man. A bodybuilder. Her fingers lingered as she felt movement - the small and large ripples of individual cords of muscle, each of which had to be bigger than Kane's whole forearm. She kept feeling as she caught the scent of Tait's heady musk, a clean but utterly masculine scent - sandalwood and leather and cigar and pheromones and the primitive primate part of her brain responded. Involuntarily, she drew in a breath. That breath - damnit, had she been caught? Lacey’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her hand, though she didn't want to. She was feeling up to her beau’s father. That was awful, but… I have to be good, she thought. She truly believed she was being totally proper now not feeling Tait’s arm - it never reached her consciousness that her hand had just dropped only to come to rest on Tait’s massive quad. The entire previous exchange felt like minutes, but in reality it was just a second or two. Lacey continued, “I hope it's not too awkward.” Her answer was both a proper answer and a Freudian slip. “I make no promises that I won't mess up. But, I'll try my best,” Tait said to both of them, feigning innocence. Tait knew her hand was on his quad… but drew no attention to it. Kane jumped in. “Speaking of awkward - you're looking… BIG, Dad.” Now it was Tait's turn to flash the slightest of emotion - Pride. There was always something special when your kid noticed that you were reaching your goals. “I thought you'd quit working out as much with the Draft interview schedule keeping you so busy.” “I'm glad you noticed, Son. Been working hard the last while even with the schedule. Some OK results for not enough sleep and depending on the team catering crews to give me healthy food, if not exactly geared for me. But, I do want to get bigger.” “Bigger?!?” both twenty-somethings said incredulously in unison. Tait felt Lacey’s hand begin to squeeze his quad. Then move to squeeze another spot. It was a bit of a thrill to feel that a grown woman’s hand - petite though she was - could not even span the single femoral head of his right quad. Just one of the four main groups - wider than the length of her hand from her fingers to wrist. She was looking for weakness. She would not find it. Lacey - she was indeed feeling his leg, trying to figure out what bigger meant. She decided there was no way. How could there be - he was so big already. So totally hard. He had to be immensely strong. Everywhere she felt - nothing but rock hard muscle. It couldn’t get any bigger. Tait could not help but to feed on their stunned energy, particularly Lacey. He found a strange sort of enjoyment at the prospect of showing off for his family and pushing them into disbelief. He decided to go with the flow. He opened a light version of a jock smirk to their reaction. “ “But you're already so BIG?!?” Lacey finally said. Tait held out his right forearm and biceps and began to tense and relax them in view of the kids. It was not a full out flex at all - more of just moving his fingers and wrist making the muscles twist and dance. As he did so, the cords of thick muscle and veins exploded and the promise of a truly monumental biceps mountain hinted it was alive under the black polo sleeve. “I'm certainly trying. It was my New Year’s resolution, so to speak. Maybe it's just an old man's vanity trying to keep up with all these NFL prospects I work with who are even younger than you two. It’s fun to still be able to out work and out lift them, I have to admit. “I turn 45 in a few months, and it is more than fun to see them - please do not take offense Kane, Lacey - but it is more than fun to see them have the same reaction you two are having right now when I get a good pump. I am going for conditioning too, not just size. You know someone my size can put on a lot of muscle AND fat just by existing and eating enough. But I want to carve up the size I am putting on. Be lean and cut as well as bigger. Actually, I am aiming to be better than I ever was when I did the pin up calendars when I played in the league. One last time and hold onto it as long as time and age will let me.” Lacey’s hand groped even more at hearing that. If you looked closely, her eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing had become a bit faster. More shallow. “Dr. Hold – Tait,” Lacey corrected. “Almost 45?!? You don't look a day over 30.” Kane groaned inwardly. His anger had been growing the entire exchange. He was going to let it all go as a natural reaction that Lacey couldn’t help. His father’s gravity. That it would go away. But that level of blatant hitting on another man right in front of him was uncalled for. It was as clumsy and in his face as if she were still a teenage girl getting attention from the hot jock. Right down to the giggles. He could see Lacey fucking groping his leg and just dying to touch even more – Kane almost said something when Tait stepped in. He deftly slid his own palm over top of Lacey’s hand and pressed down. He stopped her moving. Still feeling him of course, but she was no longer exploring. “Thanks for the flattery. You're too kind. But let's be honest. The gray hair is coming out a lot more than it used to be. I still recover from a workout very fast compared to someone else my age, but not like I did five years ago. We all lose our battle with time. So, you two should enjoy every moment. I have no regrets except…” Tait stopped for a moment. Kane could see a flash across his face of the love his father had for his mother. Tait would never allow himself to break down in public. But that reaction to a thought of his mother was enough to break Kane's anger. “Except for perhaps one. And, frankly, you remind me a bit of her, Lacey.” Tait took a breath to center himself and then he continued, “I've lived life the best I could. And still try. That's why I'm doing this. To live life the best I can before I can’t. I want the same for you two. No matter what that means and where it takes you both. Be who you are and live life to the fullest.” Lacey stopped her attempts at feeling, leaving her hand resting on his quad, but followed up, curiously. “Living our best lives is one thing, but… a pin up calendar?” Tait laughed deeply. “Ya. One of the bright ideas of the League.” Tait said sarcastically, clearly amused at the thought. “They were trying to get more female fans. So their solution was to have those of us who were particularly good looking or at least had good abs that they could airbrush pose for these pin up calendars. Guys of the Gridiron, or something just as cringeworthy, haha. “Never did a thing to get more women fans of the game as far as I know. We just became a little bit of - well - fantasy material for some women and a few guys I guess.” Tait chucked again. “But I did a few calendars to raise money for charity while I was playing. Like, the ones that raise money for animal shelters - what do they call them now “Bullies and Biceps” or “Hunks and Hounds–” Tait laughed again. “I was there with all these fitness models and bodybuilders. A fish out of water as a pro football player with these little pin up dudes. Anyway, they raised some money for good causes. That I am happy to have done. You might even be able to find some of me when I was Kane's age showing off my assets.” “But ya, I want to get truly massive if I can... in fact, I'm working out at the 49ers facility while I am here to stick to the goal. Do that at every team facility when I have to go to in-person interviews. You're both welcome to come if you like. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind.” Tait smiled. “Really,” Lacey said, clearly excited to see Tait in something a bit more revealing than proper clothing. Now it was Tait’s turn. He knew what she was thinking and slightly rubbed Lacey’s hand on his quad. It was imperceptible to anyone visually. But Lacey felt it. “Of course. As often as you like.” He looked at Kane. “Both of you. I’ve never done a workout with you, Son. That would be amazing if we could. I can even try and set up something permanent if you both want.” Feeling Tait’s touch, seeing what she saw, hearing Tait’s invitation to the gym. Lacey just couldn't resist anymore. It was so cliche - but cliche’s work because they are so often real. “Tait - would it be OK if I… if I… see your-” she stumbled over herself, a ball of hormones and nerves. Kane finally snapped. He had endured so much these last few minutes. And this was the last straw. “Lacey, get hold of yourself. This is embarrassing. You wanna date my Dad or something. You sure as hell are feeling him up. Maybe it is just better if I leave you two to it - fuck…” Kane stood to leave, when both Tait and Lacey said, “ Kane, WAIT–” Both immediately withdrew their hands from each other. And as they did Lacey realized just where her hands were. What she was doing… Fuck. Kane was right. She had been flirting with Tait this whole time. She'd been touching him since he had sat in his chair. She just… couldn't help it. Tait was so different and dominant compared to every man she had ever seen, she just felt compelled. Tait was just too powerful a presence for her instincts. She did it even though she intellectually didn't want to. And she had offended the man she loved. Lacey was about to say something when Tait again intervened, again saving the young people. “I'm sorry son. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to go that way. And I should have stopped anything that crossed any boundaries that you both have. It is not Lacey’s fault. It is mine. You can remember how many people asked me to flex for them or take pics with them when you were a kid. It bothered your mother until she came to understand that it is nothing more than a compliment and I never would dishonor another person or myself by crossing a boundary. She even came to laugh at it. I'm sorry if I have violated any boundary between you two. Can you forgive me?” Tait’s statement about his mother brought back a flood of memories. Indeed he could remember so many times as a kid when people would ask his father to flex or ask for photos… And they'd try to feel his arm. Doing it for kids was one thing but he also remembered the women. So many women. He also remembered his parents laughing and joking after. He always thought it was his Dad being a player - and not the football kind. But now he remembered conversations. Laughing about some reaction. They never made sense to his child’s brain… Until now. “I… I guess so Dad. I didn't remember until now but she and grandma used to laugh about it. She thought you being a hunk was great fun. I… Just…” “No son. I understand. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I was quite protective of her if you remember. Like I said, Lacey reminds me of her a bit. More than I think you can know. So maybe it is a bit of nostalgia too, no offense intended to Lacey. It is a GREAT compliment. But perhaps I became too familiar out of habit.” “I get it Dad. And I'm sorry. Both of you.” Tait then smiled. “OK, now if it is not violating any boundary and in the spirit we just talked about. If you're OK Kane and Lacey I'm happy to satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and flex for her. You haven't seen the truly bigger me either. And then we will laugh about it. I mean I'm not in the habit of flexing in a Michelin star restaurant. A different kind of beef than what is on the surf and turf? We can satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and I doubt she will ever ask anyone again as I doubt she will ever see any bigger…” Tait smiled broadly - a smile that could melt glaciers. Lacey said, “Kane, please. Really, I am just curious. That's all.” “Alright. Alright. Go ahead. I suppose you will always wonder until you see it. And I have to admit I am a little curious myself. You’re bigger than I ever remember you being, Dad.” Kane said in surrender - and it was true that he was curious. He didn't want to admit it and it was for a very different reason… but he wanted to see his dad flex too. “Well then kiddo, I'll give you a dose of the cannons to feel later.” Tait laughed deeply. “In the meantime, Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Tait bent down in his chair a bit to not draw quite as much attention as a full out flex would do. He held his arm down to be within easy reach and then curled his monster forearm and fist around and up. The muscles of the upper arm rose and Rose and ROSE. Tait smiled as the gigantic muscle took full form. Even Kane in disbelief said, “Christ, Dad.” Tait’s arm was the diameter of a volleyball. A tremendously shaped, peaked mountain exploded out, covered with several thick and thin veins across its surface. The thick/thin skin Lacey noted earlier traced out many striations and a well-developed cleft between the heads of the muscle. The well-made polo covering it made a creaking sound, as the stitching of the custom made shirt was stretched to the limit before Tait rolled the sleeve back to afford a full view of the monster ball and the massive hanging horseshoe beneath the dome. Tait pumped it out and in a couple times. “Thanks Son. It is better with a pump, being honest, but it’s still pretty good. Go ahead Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Lacey’s trembling hands - both of them - reached over and tried to wrap around Tait’s arm. She failed hardcore with many inches between the hand on the bottom and the hand on the top. In fact, her top hand could not even cover half of the biceps mountain. “Oh my GOD.” she said. She tried to squeeze it, but she had no ability to move it at all. It felt like a warm bronze statue in the summer. The flesh was unyielding to her at all. Yet - she felt it move, but only at Tait’s whim. Tait smiled more broadly as he saw her reaction. She moved her hands, trying to feel any soft spot, any weakness, any spot at all that felt like flesh and not rock. There was none. “Oh my God, Tait, Kane, it is SO BIG and HARD. I mean you had hard muscles when we were in school but nothing like this. Tait, you must be the strongest person ever in the gym. Jeez.” “Go ahead and hit it a bit if you want. It’s the same.” Lacey obeyed, fawning as her slight pops became harder and harder into slaps and then into punches. For a girl, Lacey was very strong and fit and knew how to throw a punch from her classes at the gym, Yet all she felt was a sting in her own hand as hit after hit did nothing but make Tait smile at her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “I don’t think I could make a dent in this with a baseball bat, Kane. It’s like all the muscle on your whole body is in this one arm. Your muscles have never felt like this. Your muscles are nothing like this. I bet if he squeezed you he could crush you. Wow.” She said under her breath. Tait laughed, “I take it you approve.” “It is the most manly muscle I have ever, ever felt. You’re right Tait. I never need to feel another muscle on a guy again. No one else will ever measure up. I can’t wait to see you put these football guys to shame in the 49ers gym. Can we go Kane, please. I really want to see Tait embarrass a few of those fucks I remember from school.” Tait was still flexing for Lacey, Lacey still feeling, and Kane … Kane still in utter awe. Kane would have felt offended that Lacey flatly said that she would never want to feel his body again after feeling his Dad’s but - he couldn’t. He had hugged his Dad earlier. He had felt his Dad’s body. And seeing this… he wondered if Lacey’s comment wasn’t true. He certainly could never build what his Dad had. He wished he could. He wished he could do ANYTHING to come even close to that. But he had no idea how. And Kane felt… something. Something like gravity. A pull toward SOMETHING... Kane never betrayed the gravity he felt toward his father’s muscle display. “I guess Lacey, if you want and if you are sure, Dad. I’ll go.” “Absolutely. I’ll call Roger Goodell and make it happen if I have to. He owes me a favor anyway. And… thanks for indulging and letting me show off just a bit Matty.” Kane groaned and Lacey looked up at Tait, even as he pumped his arm a few more times under her roaming hands. "Who is Matty?" Kane just looked down, his whole body seemingly turning red in embarrassment. Kane sighed. "Me. That’s what mom and dad called me as a kid. I went by Matt everywhere else except my family called me Matty - until I started using my middle name Kane in college. Guys back on the high school wrestling team heard Dad call me Matty, and the name stuck like glue." Tait looked a bit sheepish. "Damn, son. I’m sorry. There I go telling old men stories. It's just one of those old habits. I know how you feel about Matty." Lacey smiled and chuckled. “I, however, just got a little bit of leverage in the war between the sexes.” In a tremendously cheeky bold move, Lacey bent over and planted a small peck kiss on Tait’s still flexed biceps - the only part of him she could reach as big as he was. “Thank you, Tait. I may have to use it sometime… Matty.” Tait laughed hard and Kane turned redder still. It was really one of those classic parent stories they tell on their kids but… there was something in Lacey’s eyes, on her face. Something. And then it was gone. Tait spoke up. “At least if I do it now, Kane, I won’t get in as much trouble. But I will try to keep that as private as possible. Anyway, It will be a pleasure to show off for you both. It has been a while since someone appreciated what I do with the players – and to the players.” Tait laughed as he slowly lowered his arm. Lacey’s hands hung in mid air for a few moments before she lowered them. She loved Matty… rather Kane like her life depended on it, but… She just HAD to feel that arm again - HAD TO - when she could tell Tait what she really thought - alone when Kane would not hear. HAD TO before Tait left again for New York. “What do you mean Tait,” Lacey said shakily. “What do you do to players?” Tait smiled. "You both were athletes at Stanford. Imagine someone like Christian McCaffrey being told he has to be interviewed by an NFL staff psychiatrist for potential draft teams. He is expecting some short fat dork who has never even taken an elementary school flag football snap to walk in. How do those athletes react when they see me come in and the first thing I do is ask them to do is to take me through their daily workout... and the dork doc beats their ass in every lift." Kane said in a not exactly joking manner after the name “Matty” came out, "Dad has always liked to lord his abilities over other players." Tait looked at them both. "No, it's not that at all. Yes, keeping up with them or beating them in the gym is an ego boost to me, and it hits their ego. But it also serves a purpose in my psychological evaluation of them. “As a rookie in the League, no matter who you are or how good a college player you are, being new in the League, in practice and games and the locker room, you face being physically out-performed and bullied a bit by teammates and rival players. We are all paid professionals, but it is testosterone-fueled men and there is a pecking order and can be pissing wars and dick length contests, at least metaphorically. It is part of tradition, and playing with the best players in the world. Some say I am in the running for the greatest tight end of all time, and it happened to me. I remember getting my bell rung once like I was Big Ben in my first game with Charles Woodsen. Once I got accustomed to the League, half the time some corner in the secondary tried to make a tackle on me and they just bounced off. But that first year or two, I still got flattened more than once and reamed by the locker room and the coaches for it. “By me being a doctor and a retiree and still beating their lifts, I get to see in a small way how they will deal with adjustment to the League psychologically. Can they roll with it and adapt to not being Big Man on Campus anymore and be willing to learn or do they fold and wash out? It's important to see how they will react when I trash talk them a bit, since that will show me how they will take that trash talk in the locker room or that coach ripping them a new asshole for missing an assignment. They also tend to open up to me.a lot more after seeing proof that I really did play in the League. That, though I'm a doc now, I still know the NFL on the field and in the locker room - and could maybe still play if I wanted. That confidence and trust in me is important to get to their true feelings and attitudes and how those will gel with the various clubs and team cultures around the League." Lacey was utterly enchanted getting to hear some of Tait’s intellect and mental prowess at work. But even Kane understood, maybe for the first time in his life, that what he so often saw out of his dad wasn't just being a jock. He remembered what it was like to be called Matty by his teammates. How he sometimes felt belittled by it. Like a tiny boy when he would lose some practice matches or get out worked in the gym or starving to come in on weight. It gnawed at him so much so he changed his name. And the locker room at Stanford was even harder… he could nigh imagine what being a rookie in the NFL was like. The millions spent on one person - if they crumbled like he had crumbled at this lunch seeing so many innocent things as an attack. He understood. It made sense. Tait was doing them a favor by out performing them. Kane knew - he would do the same thing himself for the same reason if he had his Dad’s ability and prowess. Kane’s respect for his Dad expanded at that moment - he was more of a proper man than even he understood. The gravity toward his father increased… “What else do you do for the NFL?” Lacey asked… And so it went as the trio had a wonderful lunch. Lacey drove the conversation, pressing for more and more information about Tait. Tait, happily engaging and observing. And through the entire lunch, Lacey’s hand - whenever she could - touching and feeling Tait’s hard muscles when she thought Kane wouldn’t notice. Tait, having been told that it was no longer crossing a boundary, allowing Lacey to explore to a point. And Kane - gaining more and more appreciation and admiration. Kane’s resistance to the force that pulled him toward his dad slowly collapsing. Kane’s ability to resist his father in anything - slowly crumbling. The feeling… disturbing feeling, slowly increasing. The conflict that had slapped him in the face with the force of a steel chain to the mouth - slowly growing. But, finally, as it always does, the lunch came to an end. After Tait took care of the bill, the three of them walked through the door, and then stood outside. Tait first embraced his son. “I will be in town all week, son. I want to see you again, anytime I can. If not before the trip to the gym, then how about after that. I would really like a little father-son time if that is OK.” Tait then made his son look up as he looked down into the softer male face. “Maybe lunch or dinner, just you and me.” Tait’s tone was obvious - a time when Lacey was not there and when Kane would be a lot less defensive. And Kane could talk openly. Kane thought for a minute and nodded yes. He had never truly been able to say no to his Dad for long. He had never seen anyone who had truly been able to say no to Tait Holden. Then Tait turned to Lacey. “And you, young lady. Thank you for the wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. And I can’t wait to get to know you better as well.” “I can’t wait either, Tait.” Lacey said. The giant embraced the beauty queen, and the beauty queen returned the hug. Tait noticed something that no one could ever see given his size. Lacey - sure, she was hugging him. A hug that was a little too tight, a little too close, hands moving a little too much. She was feeling more than just his muscle again. She was leaning into him, like trying to draw strength from him. For what purpose unless it was – Tait felt her small hand slide just down just a bit. Too far down. The hand went over his hard glute cheek. Feeling, exploring. Kane could not see what she was doing given his massive frame. Tait did what he had done all night, only this time half out of reflex and half out of showing off. He flexed his glutes under her hand. The hand found them particularly impenetrable, as she traced lines until she found the entrance to one of his back pants pockets. The hand slid inside. Tait felt something… and then the hand withdrew and slid back up onto his low back. She pulled back, looked up, and gave Tait a strange, knowing glance. She then took Kane’s hand as if nothing had happened. As the three left the restaurant and Tait started for his car, Lacey could not help looking at Tait’s huge size 18 boots. She happened to wonder for a moment if the old saying was true, as she glanced down to Kane’s size 7 shoes… *** Tait got to the passenger door of the 49er’s team car and opened it. It was only then that he reached his hand into his back pants pocket. His fingers discovered a folded piece of paper. He withdrew it and opened it. Written there was a note - when had she had a chance to write this? - Was her hand feeling his leg, trying to get to a front pocket but was unable? Either way, she was good. Very good. “Tait - Please contact me ASAP. I need to see you again urgently. But text only. 123-555-1212. Please do not call. And PLEASE - Don't tell Kane. - Lacey” ***

Part 1 Jesus Christ. What a long fucking day. Sean tossed his satchel over his shoulder as he left work. 8 clients back to back, each more taxing them the last. The weight of his full satchel a burden on his thin shoulders. Sean walked down the stairs to his office, out of breath from the exertion; and then he climbed into his car. Say what you want about Sean, but his job provided him with plenty of disposable income. He climbed into his new luxury car, starting up easy, and rolling out of the parking garage smooth as ice. For only being 27, Sean had made a comfortable life for himself. His parents had never really been huge influences on his life, and he had made his own way since he was 15. Getting his first salary job after college, climbing the ladder, and slowly gaining his independence from his family has been everything he’d ever wanted. Sean pulled out of the parking garage, his wheels hitting smooth pavement as he drove out of the city. Sean listened to public radio on his drive home, relaxing into his average every day afternoon commute. It was when Sean got home that he stripped his mask and dove into his true personality. Stripping off his suit and tie, his long socks and business loafers, Sean settled into the couch in only his underwear. He opened a gay chat app and began to message the men back. Each of of them a burly daddy type, thick hair, thicker muscles, and a love for skinny younger guys. Sean fit that bill perfectly, at 27 he had barely grown since he started college. 5’8” and 130lbs he was a small man, but he was hot none the less. Bud strong jaw line, defined abs, and model status face sealed the deal for him more often than not. One thing about Sean though. He was more of a tease and flirt. He preferred to play the field, work these men up to a fevered pitch, and then cut them off; leaving them horny and wanting more, sending messages, pictures, and videos frivolously vying for his attention. Sean loved the attention he received from these men, but there was really only one daddy he truly craved connection with. When he was 17 and came out to his parents, a decade ago, his dad had shut him out. Physically, emotionally, mentally. Sean felt his last few years in his home he was a stranger living in a foreign hostile. Sean’s dad, Clint, had always been a man’s man, he worked a blue collar job, worked out when he could, drove a pick-up truck. Sean never expected him to accept him, but he also never expected what came next. As he scrolled through his app, teasing the older men, his dad texted him. Odd. *Hey Sean. I know it’s been a while but I’d really like it if you could give me a call when you’re available.” A wave of nausea and worry washed over Sean, his dad NEVER reached out to him. Something extraordinary must have happened. Sean was all at once needing to call his dad to settle his curiosity, and too intimidated and stunned to actually make the call. Sean went to shower, an ice cold shower always helped him calm down and think clearly. He undressed, his lean nearly hairless body reflecting in the mirror. Sean’s body may not have been too athletic, but his face told a different story. A strong, even jawline set his face, accentuated by his high cheekbones and well proportioned nose. His dark green eyes the color of an evergreen tree in late winter. His brown hair tossed and falling evenly, with a bit of curl. Sean knew he was a stunner, he had been approached many times to model for different projects around his small town. Sean got out of the shower, dried off, and sat on the edge of his bed. He fumbled around with his phone, still wet and cold, but he could only focus on the phone call with his dad he knew he needed to make. He slowly dialed the number, and pressed call. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Voicemail. “Hi dad, it’s Sean. I was calling in response to your text. Call me when you can.” No sooner than he’d hung up, his dad called back. “Hello, Sean.” “Hi dad.” “How are you doing?” “I’m okay. Dad is everything alright?” “Not really, son. Your mom. She. She.” Sean could hear his dad tearing up over the call. “It’s okay dad. Tell me what happened.” “She left me.” Sean heard she sobs for a moment. He let his dad cry. “I’m so sorry dad. I hope you’re okay.” Still keeping himself distant from his dad. “No. It’s okay Sean. I’m not upset she left. In fact I’m happy. I wanted to see if you’d come over for dinner. There’s some thing I want to talk about. But I want to do it face to face.” “Uh. I. Uhhh. Sure dad. When?” “As soon as you can. Tomorrow is Friday night, does that work for you?” Sean took pause. That was so soon. But his dad clearly needed this. “Sure dad. Send me your address and what time you’d like me to come. Should I bring anything.” “No son. Just bring yourself, that’s enough. I’ll text you my address and time when we get off the phone.” “Alright. See you tomorrow dad.” “See you tomorrow. I love you, Sean.” Then the call ended. Sean couldn’t remember a single time his dad had ever told him that he loved him. “8175 Wabash Ln. come over at 5pm.” Sean’s mind rushed through all the possibilities for what his dad could want to talk to him about. He couldn’t believe his mom had left his dad, as distant as the two of them had always been with him, they always seemed so in love. What could have happened? These thoughts swirled in Sean’s mind until he drifted asleep. Waking up the next morning he checked his phone to see if his dad had said anything else, nothing. He quickly got ready for work and tried to get himself back into his comfortable routine; but it didn’t matter, every other thought in his mind was occupied by what could be happening with his dad. What this dinner was going to be like. Why did it have to be so sudden? The day crept on, the uneasy feeling of anxiety ebbed and waned inside Sean, knotting his stomach. Thankfully today was Friday and that meant less clients. He got off at 4:30, just enough time to make it to his dad’s on time. Sean pulled up to his dad’s house. He guessed mom got their family home, and now his dad was staying in a small one bedroom home. It was a nice house, deep red bricks, a large porch on the front, a beautifully manicured front lawn, a garage off to the side. It had a very cozy feeling to it. Something about the little home made Sean feel at easy for a moment. He stepped onto the porch and knocked on the deep hardwood door, freshly painted a bright white to match the porch railing. Sean heard motion inside, the door opened, and his feeling of ease dissipated. In the doorway was a man who vaguely resembled Sean’s dad. His face was even different. Kinder somehow, maybe it was the big smile he wore, or the tear in his eye, but Clint looked…welcoming. Sean noticed at once that his dad seemed much larger than he remembered him. It had been almost ten years since they’d met in person, and it appeared his dad had started to take his workout routines more seriously. He’d also seemed to be taking better care of himself, his once round gut was now gone, all of the mass seemed to have shifted upwards and it now spilled into his chest and arms. Clint was taller too, or so Sean thought. When his dad opened the door he was staring directly at the bottom of his dad’s chest. “Sean!” Clint said, almost in an exacerbated sigh, a release of tension audible in his tone. He stepped forward and pulled Sean into a hug. Sean’s face sank in between his dad’s pecs, he noticed how far he seemed to sink, emphasizing the size of the barreled chest. The large arms around him hard as stone. The force of the hug lifted him off the ground a bit so that Sean was on his tippy toes. He reached around his dad and ground that he almost couldn’t reach completely around the wide lats and thick chest. He inhaled deeply, the scent of his dad’s cologne, the slight sweaty musk between his pecs, the smell of a fresh shower. Sean squeezed, and he felt his dad’s much larger body pull him in even tighter. Clint then released Sean, lowering him back to the ground, “please come in.” As he stepped out of the way, Sean walked into the house. “Dad, this is a very nice little home.” “Thanks son. I’ve tried. When I,” he paused seeming to hold back tears, “when I had to move here this was all I could afford and it needed some work. But some fresh brick, paint, floors, and some hard work on the front lawn has really brought it together.” “Wow. So you redid this whole place, did you hire someone?” “Hire someone?” Clint seemed genuinely confused. “No. I did it myself. I needed a project to sink my mind into and this remodel was just what I needed.” “You seem well dad.” “Come on Sean. Sit at the table. I have dinner ready, we can talk more there. I’m sure you’re wondering why I insisted we meet so soon.” He was right. Sean was whirling with possibilities as to why this was all happening. Above all, he felt an odd displacement in his mind, where the negative feelings he’d always harbored towards his father had suddenly softened. He was unsure if it was the way he spoke now, the affection he showed, or the simple fact that he now looked like the dream version of a man Sean would flirt with and tease. He knew the latter couldn’t possibly be it. Sean at at the table. A small dining set, four wooden chairs and a sturdy table, all the same dark mahogany wood. The grain had been sanded and treated. Everything in the home looked like it had been handled with such care. Clint rounded the corner, carrying a large pot in one arm and a large plate in the other. “I’m sorry it’s not much. As much as I’ve focused on building myself back up, cooking isn’t something I’ve mastered yet, but I remembered you liked beef stew, so I made that, and some homemade rolls. Although. The rolls didn’t come out as nice as I’d planned.” As Clint sat the food on the table, Sean appreciated the gesture. “I still love beef stew dad. I can’t believe you remembered. And don’t apologize, if it tastes as good as it smells I think we’ll be fine.” Clint even fixed Sean his plate, portioning out the meat, veggies, and selecting what he must have considered the most ideal roll in the bunch. “Here!” He said enthusiastically, handing the plate to Sean. “Thanks dad.” Sean gave his dad a quick glance and a warm smile. If his dad was going to put in so much work to be present, Sean figured he could try equally to make his dad feel like his efforts were valid. The two ate in silence for a while. Sean unsure of what to say, and Clint apparently too afraid to say what he needed to. Sean took the first leap, “Dad, what’s this all about?” Clint paused eating, and slowly sat down his fork. He seemed to be mentally gathering his composure, using one hand to smooth his shirt, which had bunched up underneath his heavy pecs, and the other to wipe sweat from his brow. Sean noticed his dad’s large dark nipples were visible through the thinly stretched shirt fabric, and when he raised his arm to wipe the sweat from below his well maintained brown hair, he heard a seam pop in the shirt as it stretched over his shoulder. “This is a hard story to tell. But I owe it to you. Just let me get through as much as I can and then we can discuss, okay?” “Sure, dad.” “So. Shortly after you moved out, I became unhappy. Not with your mom or anything specific, but life in general. I was getting old and fat, I was tired all the time, I was angry, I hated my job and everything in life seemed like a chore.” Clint swallowed hard, forcing down emotion as he got to the heart of the issue. “After a while I went to see a therapist, your mom didn’t know because I didn’t want her to think she was the problem. Through talking with the therapist we discovered a few things. The first being that I was depressed. The second was that I probably had low testosterone. Those two thing combined accounted for most of my symptoms. The therapist encouraged me to workout, saying that it would not only help with depression, but when I started receiving testosterone injections that it would help to moderate my energy levels and mood more.” He took a slight pause, a big deep breath, his chest expanding and pulling the buttons on his shirt almost to their breaking point. “The last thing we talked about was your mom. She was emotionally and mentally abusive and I had fallen into a dark place. When we would talk about you I had two different thoughts, how I really felt, and how I felt because that’s how your mother insisted that I feel. Years and years of her demanding I follow in her ideological footsteps let me to being a hateful scornful person, and it wasn’t who I really was. I withdrew from you because it was either that or face the abuse from your mom.” Clint paused again. The next words hung in his throat like a Vice was locked preventing them from escaping. “Son. I never cared you were gay. I knew it well before you came out. Your mother was blindsided and she couldn’t see past it. She would talk when we were alone and say the most vile things, I would agree, craving her approval, but at the same time I knew it was hurting you and that’s the last thing I wanted. So. That lead your mom and I to an impass. One morning I insisted we invite you over and make amends, I told her I couldn’t do it any longer. I called her on her abuse and told her it was time to change the dynamic. She argued, but I had practiced in therapy remaining steady and keeping to my values. I guess once she realized she couldn’t control me any more she left. It devastated me at first, because I craved her affection so much. But. These last few years I’ve come to realize that I could repair our relationship. I realized that the bond we could share as father and son could help me to heal. So. After years and years of struggling and fighting and working on myself I finally decided it was time. I’ve done a lot of work inside myself to prepare to be a good father, and I understand that it may be hard to accept. But I love you, and I want you to know the truth and the reason why everything happened.” Sean sat. Stunned. He wanted to laugh and cry and run and disappear all in the same moment. His body was frozen in time. Clint studied him, watching for any reaction. Sean was stoic, completely unsure for the first time in a while of what to do next. Clint stood, rising to his full height, and walked over to Sean. With Sean sitting and Clint standing, Sean noticed he was at crotch level with his dad. Not wanting to seem like he was staring, he quickly stood as well, and the two hugged. They both teared up, holding on, waiting for the other to relent, but neither did for a while. Finally. Sean initiated the released stepping back, his dad releasing him from the hug. “Thank you.” Was all he could manage for the time being. Clint returned to his seat, and so did Sean. They resumed eating. The air between them seemed to clear, the tension releasing like a bungee cord just unhooked. Time seemed to return to normal. Then Clint spoke. “So. Do you think we can ever repair our relationship?” Sean nodded, “I do. There’s a lot of time to catch up on, but it sounds like you’ve done most of the work already.” “You’re right. There is a lot of lost time. Tell me about yourself. What was college like, where do you work, how is life. I saw you drive a pretty nice car, I’m proud that you seem to be doing well for yourself. Do you have a boyfriend, I don’t seen a ring so I hope I didn’t miss a wedding?” Sean was gobsmacked. Never in his life did he imagine those words coming from his dad’s mouth. Sean must have been sitting with his mouth agape because Clint continued, “sorry. I know that’s a lot. I’ve just thought about these things for so long.” “No. It’s okay dad. Let’s see. College was fine, I completed by bachelors and masters and the firm I work for now pays me really well. I own a place downtown and I’ve started a small business on the side that will hopefully allow me to quit my job one day and simply manage. You’re right. No husband. No boyfriend either. I’ve never really had a steady partner.” “That surprises me.” Clint said. “What does?” “That you’ve never had a steady partner. You seem so out together, despite how we raised you, and you inherited my good looks, I’d think it would be easy for you to find a man.” What an odd conversation. Sean could hardly believe he was talking about this with his dad. “Well. Maybe I’ll meet someone one day. For now I’m really focusing on myself.” Sean said. “I understand that.” Clint agreed. “What about you dad, do you have anyone special in your life?” “No. Like you I’m working on myself. Between work, the gym, fixing this house, therapy, and working to make myself ready to meet you again, I haven’t had time for anything else.” It really was like Sean was meeting his dad again for the first time. The man he knew growing up was gone, replaced by this much larger, much more caring version of his dad. The two finished their plates, Sean full after one, and Clint eating everything that remained. The big man had an appetite to match. “Would you like to come out back son? I can show you my plans for landscaping, we can have a few beers and just talk.” “That sounds great, dad.” Although Sean wasn’t a fan of beer, this time with his dad was probably worth the taste. They settled into the porch into two separate rocking chairs, Clint sat a cooler of beer between them. “You like these chairs, Sean?” “Yeah dad, they’re sturdy, quiet, really nice actually.” “I made them.” Sean sat forward and examined the chair he was sitting in. It indeed had a similar grain to the table and chairs in the dining room, an even stain across them, and the cushioning was clearly hand sewn and detailed. “Now. I didn’t make the cushions. I got those at a local market. But the chair I did make.” Sean sat back in the chair, running his hand along the smooth wood of the chair. “You’re quite the handyman, dad.” “Well you pick up a thing or two basically rebuilding a home with your bare hands.” At that Clint chuckled, a deep growling laugh that gave Sean flashbacks of his childhood, of happier times with his dad. “So how are you landscaping the backyard?” Sean asked. “Follow me!” Clint said, standing up and walking to the end of the porch. He stood there a moment and Sean wouldn’t help but notice how his dad’s ass stretched the khaki pants he was wearing, the dimples visible through the material. Standing, Sean followed Clint into the yard. Strewn across the yard were various different gardening and lawn care tools. Shovels, hoes, large bags of soil and mulch, stacks of lumber. Clint began to point around the yard, “over there I’m going to start a small vegetable garden. I figure I can fit around 10 tomato plants, a few stalks of corn, some beans and squash around the corn, a row or two of potatoes, and over there I’m going to have a strawberry and blueberry vine.” He swung his arm around, “over there I’m going to create a stone path, and I’m going to build a gazebo; in that corner I’m going to plant a new tree, haven’t decided what kind yet…” he continued to speak but Sean was lost in the moment. Seeing his dad so happy and passionate about something, there was something so…attractive about it. But not in the way that he found his dad attractive. Just the attribute of a person who’s driven. “Well son, what do you think?” “I think it’s going to take a lot of work.” Clint took a long drink of his beer, finishing it off, “yeah. It will. But it’s work I love to do. You’ll have to come back sometime and see it when it’s finished.” Two two walked back to the porch, and relaxed back into the chairs. They talked about anything and everything, Sean drank a few beers and being smaller and not used to alcohol he quickly caught a buzz. Clint, the large man that he was, was putting back bottle after bottle, seeming to loosen up a bit more each time. Suddenly Sean felt dizzy. He was getting drunk. “I think I’d *hiccup* better *hiccup* head home.” Sean slurred. “Absolutely not.” Clint said matter of fact, “you may be a grown man but I’m still your dad. You’re staying here tonight where you’re safe. No drinking and driving, if you did that I’d have to punish you.” Sean heard Clint laugh, but he could of sworn he saw a sly grin on his dad’s face as he said it. “Where and I *hiccup* going to sleep?” Fuck. Sean had to get rid of these hiccups. Annoying as hell. He held his breath. “In my bed.” Clint answered, and Sean exhaled the air quickly. What the fuck. He couldn’t sleep in the same bed as his dad? “I don’t want to sleep in the bed with you dad. I’ll call and Uber.” “You little goober. I’m not sleeping in the bed with you. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Sean felt a sudden relaxation, knowing things would be okay, his eyes felt heavy and he slid into sleep on the porch in the chair. He awoke to feeling weightless. No. Not weightless. He was being carried. Clint had a hold of him, cradling his body against his big thick chest, supporting his weight with his strong arms. Sean was still drunk, and he felt so safe in this moment, he nuzzled his head into Clint’s chest further, swearing he felt a hard nipple under his cheek. Clint lay Sean down in the bed, assuming he was still asleep. In the dark, Sean lay awake with his eyes open. Clint began to undress. The room was dimly lit by the hallway light and the moonlight from the large window. Sean couldn’t make out everything, but he could see enough. As Clint unbuttoned his shirt, his chest seemed to expand, growing once the pressure had released. Sean could see a few hairs on his dad’s chest, the grey ones which shown in the low light. Clint struggled to get the shirt off over his massive shoulders and bulging tricep, he was still drunk too. In his frustration he simply, and quite easily, ripped the shirt down his back and shredded it into pieces, pulling it off his body. Unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, Sean noticed his dad’s bulge. He should close his eyes. He shouldn’t be watching his dad undress. He needed to stop right now. But as he thought this, Clint’s bulge forced its way out of the opening in the pants, sticking out looking like his dad dad shoved a small watermelon in the front of his underwear. The weight of the package inside weighing down the waistband of the boxer briefs. Forcing his pants down over his huge quads Sean saw his muscles ripple and flex as he fought with the tight fabric that wouldn’t let go of the diamond cut quads. Finally. Clint was undressed, in only his underwear. He turned to leave the room, bending over quickly to pick something up off the floor, and Sean could hear the material rip as his large ass stretched the material too far. Clint stopped at the doorway, his wide back taking up more than the width of the doorframe, he turned slightly to fit through the door. As he did, he looked back at Sean and said, “goodnight son.” And he closed the door.

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.

Tinder Transform By Ultrabeef As I swiped right on Ryan, the cute, ripped, muscular, 23 year old blond twink, I just sighed to myself. It was hopeless. I was so sick of being ignored on Tinder. I mean, it was obvious why I wasn’t getting any likes. Look at me: middle age, slightly balding, glasses, chubby – who the hell would be interested in that? I was ready to just give up and delete the app and my profile once and for all when an ad popped up. “Are you sure that you want to delete your profile? Try our new Tinder Transform for free instead.” The ad had a button to press to take me to this new platform. I had never heard of Tinder Transform before and a quick search online yielded no results. Even though I was depressed and ready to give up, something led me to press the button. Immediately my iPhone screen flashed and went blank. “Fuck! I just downloaded some stupid virus!” I tossed my phone across the room onto my bed and went into the kitchen for a snack. When I came back to my room my phone was back on and the Tinder app had been replaced with a purple logo. I clicked on the logo and my phone flashed as Tinder Transform loaded and text filled the screen. I was then led to a series of prompts that asked about my dating preferences and what I was looking for in a match. I wasn’t sure what the point was but I completed the prompts. I was looking for a cute, young, muscular blond twunk – exactly the type of guy I had no chance matching with. Then the screen asked how I would see myself in order to get those types of guys to like me. I answered the questions, getting hard as I did, thinking about my secret desires. I wish that I was a big, beefy muscle daddy with a big fat cock. I wish that I was sexy and confident. After finishing the questions the app started flashing “processing” across the screen. Suddenly a clock appeared with the text “Your transformation will occur in 2 hours”. A blinding flash came across my phone that had me seeing stars and then my phone went black again. That was an hour and 45 minutes ago and my phone hasn’t come back on (despite everything I tried). Now I was even more depressed and feeling even more hopeless. As I scrolled through the Netflix menu looking for something to watch, while balancing a bowl of popcorn on my pudgy belly, I suddenly started to feel sick to my stomach. Waves of heat washed over me and I could feel that I was starting to sweat. “Oh crap! I hope I’m not coming down with something now” I muttered as I stood up from the sofa, spilling some popcorn on the floor. As I bent over to pick up what I had spilled I stopped and looked at my hand. As I spread my fingers apart it seemed that my hand was getting bigger and my fingers were thickening from my long, slender piano playing hands into wide breakfast sausages. “What the heck?” I turned my hand around and saw that it wasn’t just my hands that were swelling, my forearm was getting thicker as well. Purple veins could clearly be seen starting to bulge from under my pale skin. Before I could think I heard the sound of fabric tearing and could feel that my shoulders were pushing out through my stained t-shirt. I stood up and hurried to the bathroom, as I did I could feel that my jeans were getting tighter on my legs and my arms were straining against the flimsy fabric of my t-shirt. Two mounds were forming on my chest and started bouncing up and down as I rushed to the bathroom. Staring back at me in the bathroom mirror was a huge, hairy, muscular beast of a man. My back was so wide, it was wider than the bathroom door as it jutted like wings away from my body. I was just a wall of thick, rock-hard muscle. I flexed my huge arms and watched as they bulged with veins. My chest jutted off of my body and two big gumdrop sized nipples pointed outward from the swirl of thick hair that coated my pecs. My gut bulged obscenely but was still covered with hard brick-like abs and a coating of fur. I turned sideways and ogled my huge shelf-like ass in the bathroom mirror. My face was fuller and rounder than before and was covered with scruff. I had a bushy mustache and thick sideburns as well. My hair had filled in and had more gray than I remembered and my nerdy glasses almost looked out of place on my freakish physique. “Oh fuck!” I moaned in a rich deep bass, “what the fuck happened to me?” Just then my phone pinged, I had gotten a like. Strangely my phone opened when I looked at it, somehow it still recognized my changed face. The Tinder Transform logo had disappeared and the regular Tinder logo was in its place on my phone. I fumbled with my phone with my much larger hands and opened the app. “Ryan” had liked me! I switched over to my profile and saw that my pics had all been replaced by photos of the newly transformed me, in various states of undress. Even my stats had changed to fit my new physique. Then another ping sounded as I had received a message. It was from Ryan. “Hey daddy! How come I never saw you on here before? And we are just down the street from each other!” I could feel myself blush as Ryan’s greeting of “Daddy” and his sudden interest in me. I started to respond in my usual way “Hey, how’s it going?” when suddenly a voice in my head took over “don’t be a pansy, embrace the new you”. I deleted my standard greeting and replied, “If you’re so close, then why don’t you get your cute little ass over here? 9887 Revel Drive.” I pressed send before realizing what I had done. “Oh shit! Did I actually just respond to a cute hunk in such a cocky way? And give him my address?! What the heck is the matter with me?” I glanced around my bathroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror, a massive hairy hulk with the look of a scared child on his manly face. I looked ridiculous. I quickly marched into my bedroom and grabbed the largest pair of shorts I owned. As I desperately tried to pull the red shorts over my huge quads, enormous bubble butt, and horse cock, the doorbell rang. I was about to burst out of skin tight shorts that had been loose just a few hours before. The doorbell rang again as I headed downstairs to answer it. As I walked, I felt a wave of confidence wash over me. I opened the door and came face to face with Ryan from Tinder. He was my height (6’ 1”) but I easily outweighed him by at least 175lbs. Ryan was wearing a white tank top and tiny pink shorts that accentuated his ripped physique. His skin was smooth and tanned and he was absolutely adorable. I could see his eyes bug out of his head as he took in my massive, hairy frame. “Hey cutie, you look just like your pic” I purred seductively. “Oh shit!” Ryan gulped, “so do you”.

It's been a while since I've written a story, and my first time posting on here! Let me know if you guys enjoy this so far and what you're looking forward to! Thank you! Chapter 1: “Banks, why are you always being so pushy? I already told you I’ll be coming over tonight to play that game you keep begging to play.” “Sorry I know I know, I’m just tired of having to play scrabble with my dad on game nights alone. Especially parcheesi. You know how he gets about that.”, Banks grimaced at the thought of having to spend another game night alone with his father. Sure, he loved his step-dad like any other son would, but sometimes, he needed his space. His father had become more clingy in the last couple years since Banks had gone to college. Being that his mother was no longer with them, and the old man did not really date (or mention that he did?), he most often than not wanted Banks to spend as much time with him as he could. That is partially the reason why he went to community college as well, so he would be closer to his father. Alessandro, was also another reason. Both boys had gotten along in their last year of high school, talking about the sports they played, Alessandro to lacrosse as Banks was to swimming, and overall had many similar hobbies. Not to mention, both guys being gay didn’t help. Sure the two fooled around a couple times when they were extra horned up after practice and didn’t have any dates lined up, which two gay guys didn’t? It was mutual friends with benefits. “You’re gonna have to go over the rules again when I go to your house. Your stud of a dad is going to keep distracting me while I play. You know that.”, Alessandro sighed. “I got ya covered old buddy ol’ pal. Besides, I went out thrifting and found this new board game so we wouldn’t be stuck in the same loop of playing the same stuff all the time. I already told my dad I got a new game.” “And? What is it called?”Alessandro opened up his can of monster energy drink and began to gulp it down bit by bit. “The box called it the Simulated Universe. I didn’t really pay attention to the back but the box looked cool. It has little pieces inside that make us move around a board and we pull cards. Ya know, the basic stuff in any board game. Now hurry your bubbly ass up!”, Banks reached over, placing all his weight on his sturdy friend's shoulder. Nearly choking, “Let me have this! I’m gonna need all the energy I can get after that practice. No fair you get to do your sport in the pool and I am forced to slave away on the hot field all day.” ===================================================================== Alessandro carpooled with Banks on the way home to good ol’ suburbia. The hill ranges could be seen as they took the freeway back from their community college. It was still a bit humid this July, in typical summer fashion. Most people were used to the dry heat here, but this year decided to throw everyone for a loop. The boys were sweating even with the AC blasting in the car. Alessandro had already taken off some of his sports gear showing off his defined upper body and larger arms. He still had a little bit of a gut, but still quite sexy, as Banks would always tell him. His lightly brown skin was coated in some dark hairs. Not too wiry, but more straight and tamed. You could see the trail down his stomach from where his shirt stopped. A little bit of chest hair poked out the top of his tank-top too. Banks was already shirtless. His upper body was covered in a cool, drying sweat. His swimmer pecs glistening, the sweat reflecting the sun’s rays. His tight core was donned with a nice six pack, and of course, smooth. His arms were nicely defined and had some nice mass in his biceps, alongside his thighs. He was a bit more muscular compared to the other swimmers who were leaner. He took to weight lifting before swimming with his step-father in high school, and fortunately, the rewards of that hard work did not fully disappear off the young stud's body. Although Banks was smooth from below the neck, he did ordain his cut jaw-line with some brunette facial hair. He decided to grow it out in high school to not look so boyish. It was a hit with the guys. Pulling into the driveway, Banks pulled his car up next to his step-father’s larger SUV. His was a similar model, but smaller. The two young guys grabbed their belongings and rushed inside to avoid the harsh sun rays and the humidity. Both were hoping that Chad, Banks’ father, had already been home for a while. Usually, he is the first to put on the AC. “Right on schedule boys, how was practice? Looks like you two had your asses beat!”Chad howled. Chad was a handsome middle-aged man. He recently had a birthday putting him at 45, but he looked damn good for his age. Taller than both boys, he stood at a solid 6’2. His step-son Banks stood at 5 '10, which created a slight complex for the young stud in high school. Alessandro on the other hand, looked up to the two taller men as he was still above-average 5 '8. Chad, like his step-son, had a similar chiseled jaw-line, except he had a cleft-chin where Banks did not. He had nice thick black stubble coming in from a recent shave he had done the night prior. Chad was no slouch in the body department, similar to the two boys. He had done football in high school and some weightlifting in his college years. He still had a strong upper body and lower body, especially a nice pair of big pecs that pushed against any shirt he wore.Like Alessandro, he had body hair pushing out the top of his current maroon shirt. You could see a slight little bit of a gut on the older gentleman, but he still had the adonis belt leading downward from the few glances the boys had seen in the past. His head was still full of a thick black coif of hair, with some slight graying here and there. The salt and pepper look only added to his pure sex appeal. Alessandro was already beginning to drool, setting eyes on the older stud standing before the two boys upon entering the home. Alessandro had been attracted to Banks’ step-father since as long as he could remember. He was pretty sure the man was the catalyst for his gay awakening and one of his favorite types of men, daddys. Banks already knew Alessandro had a thing for his step-father and did not really mind it. It’d be a lie at first if Banks said he didn’t find it kind of weird, but he could see the appeal his step-father has. Hell, if he weren’t his step-son, he’d probably be attracted to him too! Even though Banks and Alessandro had fooled around a couple times here and there, they both had their types of guys that they were interested in. After putting their school stuff away the two boys changed into some more comfortable clothes since it was already evening. Alessandro still wore his tank top but borrowed some extra gray sweatpants from Banks. They were a little long since he was not as tall as Banks, but his waist and bubble butt held down the fort. Meanwhile, Banks decided to remain shirtless and exchanged his denim pants for some basketball shorts, similar to his step-father. Chad was already waiting for the boys at the dining room table with some snacks. His muscles were the ones wearing that maroon shirt, meanwhile he lounged around in some light gray basketball shorts, like his step-son. “Alright boys! It’s game night time. Thanks for joining us once again Alessandro,” Chad leaned over putting his large hand on the drooling boy's shoulder, Chad’s biceps bulging. If Alessandro could keep time still, now would be one of those times. Banks did a silent laugh watching at how hopeless his friend looked when seeing someone he was attracted to. Thankfully, his step-father was oblivious to the effects that he was having on his buddy. “So Banksy, what is this game you found? I’ve been looking forward to playing something new with you guys!”Chad reached over for one of the crackers he had prepped on the charcuterie board. “Alright men, let’s see.”, Banks pulled off the top of the box labeled “The Simulated Universe”. The blue-ish white graphics seemed reflective in the light of the dining room. The inside of the box was coated in an indigo-velvet texture where lay a simple board. To the right of the board was a separated section that had a slot for cards, little game pieces, and most importantly, the instructions. The board lay out on the table, loads of squares lead to a path toward the center of the game. In the center was a planet that was purple-greenish in color surrounded by stars of different shades, ranging from yellow, white, blue, and orange. Around the board in a spiral-esque pattern were the squares going planet to planet. On one side of the board were constellations being strung up in the sky with a clear outline of a rectangle shape, meaning the placement of cards should be placed there. Removing the little game pieces from the box, Banks placed them down at the starting line which was laid out in a cosmic type of font. Pulling out the instructions, Banks read, “Welcome to the Simulated Universe! A board game where the players simulate different changes to themselves to reach the center of the universe. As trailblazers of the universe, you must proceed through this simulated universe to reach the end goal, Planet XXX. On your way, you will roll the dice provided. Depending on the color space you land on, you will need to pull a matching colored card. These cards have been blessed by the Aeons of the Universe! Depending on what card you pull, the player who pulls that card will be augmented through the gifts of that Aeon. Each card will have a number determining the value. The Aeons are: The Trichology, Harrisford (Brown) The Mus-Trophy, Massus (Red) The Spongiosum, Priapi (Orange) The Gigantism, Giantilli (Yellow) The Spermiah, Shooteric (Green) The Distendent, Guzzlit (Blue) The Posterior, Gluteha (Indigo) The Virility, Libidon (Purple) The Ascendancy, Dominor (Black) The Acquiescent, Subservoros (White) The Impromptu, Randromeda (Pink) “The Aeons are always willing to give boons to the trailblazers that pass through the universe, as long as they are able to enjoy their boons to the fullest potential. The winner of the game is dictated by who is able to reach the center of the universe first. However, all players must continue to work toward the center after the first player finishes. No trailblazer left behind!” “Sounds simple enough boys! The theme reminds me of some sci-fi games or shows. It looks neat”, Chad enthusiastically reached over for the blue looking astronaut. Alessandro grabbed the purple one while Banks settled on the red one. “So who should go first? Should you pull up that handy wheel Banks?”Alessandro turned his attention to his buddy who was already pulling out his phone. In typical fashion and to make it fair, the group always put their names into a wheel to dictate the order of the turns. “Alrighty, the results are in. First up will be Alessandro, then myself, and lastly, the old man.” “Old man my ass boy!”Chad leaned in to ruffle Banks’ hair, using his knuckles. Alessandro took hold of the dice and noticed it only was shaped similar to a prism. However, the only numbers that could be rolled were either a one, two, three, or four. Looks like the group has a lot of spaces to conquer. Shaking the dice in both hands, Alessandro began to roll. The prism scattered across the box that once held the board game and other components. After hitting the wall and sputtering about, it landed on a two. Alessandro moved his trailblazer forward. “Let’s see…the space is indigo. Let me just reach over.”, Alessandro grazed his hands over the multiple colored backs of the cards until finding the one resembling indigo. Pulling out of that deck and reading it, “The Aeon of Posterior, Gluteha grants you a boon of 2. Cool.”. Alessandro handed the dice over to Banks. He had to readjust himself in his seat since he felt like the sweatpants he was wearing felt a little tight. “I’m going to roll something better than you did dude,” taking his turn Banks rolled a three. His trailblazer moving forward on the board past his buddy landed on the color green. Similar to his buddy, he looked around until his eyes laid on the green backing of a card. “The Aeon of Spermiah, Shooteric grants you a boon of 3. What kind of name is that?”, the group chuckled. “Sounded like sperm to me.”, giggled Alessandro. “Yeah yeah keep chuckling you two. At least I am ahead on the board.”, Banks reached his hand down toward his crotch, giving it a little rub. He felt a tad bit horny since he hadn’t had the chance to jerk off yet after practice. He squeezed his thighs against his package, feeling the nice little tingle of his sac pulsing. Banks made note that he was going to need to jack off after the game finished, and when Alessandro returned home. “Look out for your, how you put it, old man son.”Chad with a flick of the wrist rolled the prism. It landed on one. “Wah wah wahhhhh,” both boys chimed in unison. Chad just scoffed and chuckled before moving his trailblazer. The space he landed on was yellow. “Alright let’s see here, ah yellow! The Aeon of Gigantism, Giantilli grants you a boon of 5. Looks like I got the highest value out of this round boys! Ha!”Chad slammed his card down near where he was sitting. Chad made a grunt as he slammed the card down, receiving a slight wave of dizziness. The doorbell had rung. The pizza he forgot they ordered arrived. “We’ll go get it. Wait here pops.”, Banks left the dining room with Alessandro following behind him. The dizziness spell continued as Chad sat still. He couldn’t tell what had gone over him. His body felt a little sore, but that was probably from his workout this morning right? As the spell of dizziness was beginning to waver the boys returned with the box of pizza. Making room on the table the three got up and grabbed plates for their feast. Taking a swig of water and standing up, Chad was feeling better. Being nimble, he went in to grab a slice of pizza before the two gluttons got to it first. As Chad was reaching over for a slice, Alessandro noticed that the maroon shirt was being lifted up slightly on Chad. The adonis belt he had was exposed alongside a treasure trail. Not only that, but the gym shorts that were once near his knees were riding up to his thighs. Confused, Alessandro kept taking glances before leaning over to Banks. “Hey dude, is it just me, or does your dad look a little taller? I’m not tripping right? His shirt fit him earlier?”, Alessandro whispered. Whispering back, “What middle aged man grows taller? You’re the shortest out of us three so we always look taller to you. But, you’re right, I could have sworn his shirt didn’t expose part of his gut.” “You don’t get it dude, I always ogle your step-dad, he definitely looks bigger somehow.”Alessandro paused to bite into his pizza. Chad was getting some more beverages from the fridge in the kitchen. As Chad returned from the kitchen to put down a variety of soda from the fridge, Banks took note of his step-fathers appearance. He sure looked the same, but Alessandro may have been on to something. Something was off. As his dad continued to walk back to his seat, his head was closer to the top of the doorframe than it normally was. No way, was he actually taller? How much taller though? Banks couldn’t believe it. Chad was taller! As the man sat down his head and torso definitely was higher than it had been when the two boys had gone out to grab the grub. “Alessandro dude, you may be right. But how?”Banks couldn’t stop stealing glances at his father in the most inconspicuous way possible. “Fuck if I know but he looks even better! You don’t think it had to do with that oh so special boon that this game you found gave him, right?” “What did he pull again?”, while the group remained on pause to eat their grub, Banks pulled up a search on what was Aeon's thing again? Gigantism? Through a quick google search, Banks had an answer. He turned his phone over to Alessandro acting like he was showing his friend a meme. Alessandro nodded and did another glance over. “Sounds legit enough. But if he, you know, hypothetically got taller, what the hell did our draws mean?”Alessandro glanced over at their colored cards worried.

**DISCLAIMER** This fictional story includes sexual thoughts and acts that depict taboo themes (incest). So if you're not into incest, then this story ain't for you. Chapter 1 - Mayor's "Homemade" Drink At 9:00 PM, Edward Thompson, a respectable, middle-aged police officer, was conducting his patrolling duties in his police vehicle. He never liked being on night patrol. This is the time of day when stupid bar patrons would get too drunk and start fights. These caused the town, that he and his son are currently residing in for the past 20 years, to deteriorate into a shit hole. Adding to that, reports have been made recently about a large feral animal going around the town. Some even say that what they saw was not an animal, but a huge and hairy man. Whatever it may be, growls and ominous howlings that were once heard within the nearby forest started to come from within the streets every night. Wanting to check up on his boy, he pulled over to the side of the road to send him a text. Edward: Are you home already, sport? Thomas: no, just finished dinner with friends. On the way home now. Edward: OK. Be careful, reports have been issued about a big wild animal in town. get home asap. Thomas: great, more shitty things to pile up in this mess of a town. Edward was about to send another message when he heard strange loud noises coming from a nearby dark alleyway. He got out of his police car and approached the corner. Flashlight in hand, he turned to the corner to find a large, naked figure of a man, standing in the dead-end of the alley. Edward estimated that the large man must be at least 7 feet tall, and weigh 500 lbs of muscle. The giant man has his rippling back facing Edward. Edward noticed that the man was making strange movements with his arms and hips, accompanied by heavy grunts and moans. Edward was still taking in the situation he got himself into, when suddenly, the gigantic man stopped.. Turning around slowly towards him, Edward recognized the face of the massive, naked monster: It was none other than the mayor of the city! Even though several lights were casting an illuminating glow around the area, Edward's eyes could hardly focus because they were adjusting to the darkness. However, the clear silhouette revealed enough features for recognition. Mayor Johnson had always seemed like a decent person, but seeing him like this made his heart race faster than usual. Facing him now, he took in the body of the massive mayor. The mayor's muscles bulged with intensity with each breath. Thick white hair covered his entire body. And the massive erect cock that pointed towards Edward. "Beckman?" stammered Edward hesitantly. Mayor Beckman stood still for a moment before lowering his gaze downwards and then quickly looking away. His face was filled with hunger as drool came running down his mouth and to his wild beard. Finally, he faced the officer once again and muttered under his breath, "Ah...Officer Thompson..." The mayor then raised his gargantuan arms into a double bi, alternatively flexing and relaxing his guns. “You like what you see, Edward?” The beast pulled his left arm closer to his face, and began licking and worshiping his engorged and veiny bicep. All Edward could do was stare in horror and bewilderment while Beckman kept on flexing and tasting his muscles. This whole scene became too much for the officer as his own erection came to life, straining within his slacks. Beckman took notice of Edward’s sudden hard-on, clearly turned on by his erotic display of masculinity. “Hehehe, Guess I’ll take that as a yes…”, he sighed while staring at the wet spot emerging from Edward’s stiff cock. Then with a swift motion, he grabbed Edward by his torso and lifted him off the ground. Confused and scared, Edward tried to break free from the mayor's grasp, but was ultimately powerless. Mayor Beckman dropped Edward to the ground, never letting his hand leave his prey. The mayor's left hand took hold of the frightened policeman's head, and pulled him towards his crotch. With his free arm, the mayor reached for his crotch, stroking his enormous tool through his thick bush of pubic hair, dripping pre-cum onto Edward's uniform. As he moved closer, Edward caught a whiff of an intoxicating smell - a mix of raw masculinity, sweat, and aroused sexual energy. It was intoxicating, yet terrifying as he realized what was about to happen. Mayors Johnson held Edward firmly against his rock-hard, throbbing penis. Both men shared a glance, fear, desire, and confusion mixed together as if trying to decipher the situation. Their eyes locked intensely until finally, Edward gave in to his own primal urges, allowing his lips to brush across the head of the mayor's erection, taking its size into account. The tip of the member was wet, slightly sticky with precum. Making eye contact again, Edward nodded subtly indicating acceptance. "Go on, have a taste of the monster that I have become", Beckman growled. Edward began to take in the precum-coated head of the mayo's cock in his mouth. He sucked the mushroom head with such passion and drank the constant flow of salty precum. Edward kept on pleasing the cock of the beast. He rubbed and massaged the massive hairy balls with his hands. The baseball-sized testicles churned with each pleasurable lick and touch. Adding a new approach to servicing the hot meat stick, Edward began licking it from its base and up to the giant mushroom head. “Oh my, looks like you still got it huh, Thompson?”, Beckman said as he panted and moaned in delight from the most pleasurable head in his life. Edward kept on alternating between sucking the head and licking the massive fuck tool, and massaging the hairy balls dangling between each muscled thighs. "FUCK YES! YOUR GONNA MAKE ME CUM WITH THAT HOT MOUTH OF YERS" The mayor roared as he took hold of Edward’s head with both hands and began face fucking him with the full length of his cock with incredible speed and force. The lust-filled cop gagged and choked on the giant monster cock pile driving through his throat. He held on to both of the beast's massive hairy thighs to hold himself. With each passing moment, he started to lose consciousness from the rough face fucking. "GRAAAAAAAAAH TAKE MY LOAD!" Mayor Beckman immediately shot his creamy load into Edward. Making the cop spill the beast's load from overflowing in his mouth and nose. With the beast satisfied, he pulled out his cock out of the cop's mouth with a pop. The exhausted beast slowly reverted to his small, naked, human body. Leaving only the unconscious, cum-fiiled officer on the ground, creamy spunk still spilling from his gaping mouth. 10:00 PM - Thompson Residence Thomas just finished his school project in his bedroom after an hour. His dad usually comes home after a few extra hours right after his shift to meet his buddies. So he occasionally sleeps alone in their home, and wakes up with his father preparing breakfast. As he jumped right into bed, he locked his door, took off his clothes, and jumped right into bed. Before sleeping, he always performs his nightly ritual of jerking off. He started doing this right after puberty, specifically the moment his perspective of his dad changed. Being a loving and supportive father, to a handsome, and hot daddy. His father's dad bod and manly mustache sold him off as a certified DILF in his eyes. He kept his feelings a secret from his dad, not wanting to ruin their relationship. After his mother left with another man, Edward was the only person left who could comfort his father after such affairs. As a way to cope with his lust-filled feelings, he often stole his dad's underwear from the laundry basket and wore it throughout the day. Edward doesn't bathe right after his night shifts and lets his underwear accumulate his scent. And every morning, he would jerk off and use his briefs as a cum wreck. So everyday, Thomas had worn his daddy's cum soaked briefs at school, and while hanging out with his friends. And during his nightly masturbation session, he would sniff his dad's underwear while beating his meat. ... After 30 minutes of jerking off, he heard the front door of the house open. He suspected that it was his dad entering the house from his shift. Thomas sighed and continued jerking off, until he heard his dad outside of his bedroom door. "Thomas? Are you still up sport?" This is his father's way of checking up on him every night. However, there was something off about his father's voice. It was somehow deeper and... more masculine? He reluctantly answered back. "Yeah, just getting ready for bed." After a few moments, Thomas heard some odd noise coming from the door. It sounds like some heavy breathing and sniffing sounds. “Dad, you okay? Have you eaten yet?” “Yeah, just finished drinking with the mayor. Beckman fed me well with some of his homemade drink.” The mayor? Thomas was a bit surprised that his dad was drinking with Mayor Beckman since he hated him for a number of reasons. One of which are the multiple cases of abuse of power that the mayor used to get away with practically almost everything. The worst of it all, people kept on complaining to the local police department about the allegations, adding more stress to the single father’s job. But what ticked Edward the most were the allegations of domestic abuse that Beckman inflicted to his wife and child. Just then, he heard his dad’s bedroom door open, then slam loudly. His dad must be very drunk from the mayor’s “homemade” drink or whatever. Resuming his session, he fantasized about his daddy with the same deep voice, urging him to cum for his daddy. Unbeknownst to Thomas, Edward never left from where he stood. He could smell his musky scent inside his son’s room, along with Thomas’ scent mixing with his. As Thomas was approaching his climax, low and muffled grunts could be heard outside of his room. But Thomas was so preoccupied to pay attention to the noises as he jacked his cock even faster. And with a final thrust and muffled moan, he shot his load all over his stomach and face. Just as he was enjoying his climax, splashes could also be heard from the other side of his bedroom door. After post-orgasm, Thomas fell into a deep sleep, while Edward finally entered his room. Throughout the night, grunts and moans of pleasure kept emanating from Edward’s room. Still relishing the smell of his and Thomas’ scent in his mind. To be continued...

"Ro? Sweetheart? Oh god, please tell me you're dressed and almost ready to go." Rich hollered up to me as he started making his way up the stairs to the bedroom. His voice was laced with panic and I could just imagine the tiniest beads of sweat forming above his upper lip. "I know you haven't met the man, and I know it's kind of your hallmark trait to be fashionably late, but my father hates people who lack punctuality." I grinned at that before stepping up to the doorway. Rich's foot had just hit the top step when he looked up at me and gasped. I pulled my curls back as I finished placing one of my big diamond earrings into the pierced hole. "You really think your father will hate this?" I smirked as I gestured down at the black dress that I knew hugged all the right curves. Rich gulped. "On second thought, I'm going to send him a text that we can't make it tonight." "Oh don't be silly," I laughed. "There will be plenty of time for a good ole romp after we have supper with your Dad." Rich snorted but offered me his arm as we both descended the staircase. "Did you seriously just say, romp? And supper?" I blushed and chuckled. "I just want to make a good impression. You and your father come from money. I– don't." "Aw, but I love your filthy little mouth," Rich laughed. He booped my nose but then quickly added. "But maybe don't use the word cunt or call anyone a whore fucker. And maybe just refrain from any f bombs at all. Oh, and you probably shouldn't tell that one joke about Superman watching Wonder Woman masturbate but its actually the Invisible–" "Rich," I snapped. By now we were in his Tesla and buckling up our seat belts. "I got it. Would you relax?" "I know. I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just– my father has never approved of anything I do. And it doesn't help that I've gained like ten pounds since we started dating." "Wait, what?" My head snapped towards Rich, my right eyebrow arching over my bright blue eyes. "He would really say something about that?" Rich nodded as my eyes slowly drew over him. He wasn't that overweight and he certainly wasn't unattractive. But he definitely sported the "dad bod" despite not being one. I had tried to encourage him to come to the gym with me, but honestly, he was always out of town for work. "Well, I can't tell that you've gained ten pounds," I shrugged. "So maybe he won't notice either." "Thanks, babe." At the stoplight, Rich leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. "Is your Dad like some crazy skinny health nut or something?" I asked when we started moving again. For the second time that night, Rich just sighed. "Not exactly." When I gave him a confused look, he followed up with, "You'll see." And boy did I see. "Richard." A rather large man, well over six feet tall stood as he saw us. I could see he was grinding his jaw as he held out his hand for Rich to shake. 'Whoa' was all I thought. It was all I could think. This man– and my very timid, very painfully, average boyfriend looked nothing alike. Was Rich adopted? "Sorry, Dad. Traffic was–" I tried to bring my attention back to what had just been said instead of ogling my boyfriend's father. I cleared my throat, and cleared my thoughts, but then that very sexy man turned and looked at me. "And who's this?" His smile was dazzling and butterflies swarmed my stomach as his large hand reached for mine. My breath hitched as he brought my fingers up to his lips. "Rosalie Carter, sir," I quickly regained my composure. Or at least I faked it pretty well. Something I was absolutely used to by now. "None of that, I won't have my son's girlfriend calling me 'sir'," he chuckled. It was a deep, sort of manly sound that kind of vibrated through you. I almost sighed– and then snapped the fuck out if it. What the hell was the matter with me? "You can call me, John. That's what most people do." He spared Rich a look then added, "or Dad. Perhaps, Daddy–" I nearly choked on that but just smiled and shook my head. "John it is." I was relieved when we all sat down and I could take a big swig from the wine glass already waiting for me. Unfortunately, it was awful. Had the elite never heard of adding sugar to their grape juice? Or did they just prefer to drink wine as dry as their souls? This was going to be a long night. Especially if I had to be on my best behavior. "So, Ms. Carter, Richard tells me you're a trainer at the YMCA?" "Oh, uh, yeah," I said. Slightly caught off guard. No one had ever called me Ms. Carter before. "And who or what exactly do you train?" I was surprised when I didn't respond with the first snarky thing to pop into my head– 'pole dancing'. "Mostly old people," I smirked. "We get a lot of seniors, like yourself, that come in and don't necessarily know how to use the equipment." "I can assure you I know my way around the gym, little lady. And I'm not a senior." Only after making sure that he saw me completely look him over did I respond. "Well, I also teach a few other classes. Kettlebells, boxing–" "Boxing? Son, you never told me she could spar." "I didn't– I didn't know that you were–" My poor, naive little Rich. "Of course I'm interested. And you could use a little exercise yourself," he pointed towards Rich. "How about we start tomorrow–" "Dad, I can't. I'm leaving for Colorado." "Oh. And do you stay in that big house, all by yourself, Rosalie?" Oh crap. The big, sexy player was looking right at me. "Uhm… yep." "Nonsense! You should come stay with me at my house! It's bigger," he winked. "Oh no," I started to protest. "I couldn't." There was lots of head shaking and hand raising. But then Rich dropped the bomb. "Actually that's perfect. The roofers are coming out tomorrow to repair the damage from the hail storm. They said it would take three days. I'll be back by then." Violence was never the answer. But right now, I wanted to kill my boyfriend. After that, it was "all settled" as both my boyfriend and his father liked to say. I literally had no say in the matter. None. Whatsoever. And that's how I found myself, standing outside my boyfriend's father's home at 6am the next morning. My gym bag in one hand, luggage in the other. "I guess this is my kingdom now," I groaned as Rich let us in and led me up to the spare bedroom. "Just call me the Fresh Prince of Hell-aire." I got a chuckle as he turned and pulled me against him. "You'll be fine. I promise." Rich kissed my nose, then my chin, my forehead and finally my lips. "He'll be nice to you. It's me he doesn't like." That's what I was afraid of. "So there's a bathroom through that door," he pointed towards the ensuite. "And a walk-in closet over there. If you get lonely, some of my old college hoodies are in there." "Wait. Is this your old bedroom?" I laughed as I ran over to the bed. "Was this where you first made the magic happen?" "Oh god, would you stop?" Rich blushed. "You know you are my first girlfriend." "I know that's why your left arm is bigger than your right," I sang. "You're impossible." "And cute." Rich stalked over to where I sat on his bed. We kissed for a few minutes, but when his watch buzzed, he pulled back. "I've gotta go, or I'll miss my flight." I let out another groan and tugged on his silk tie. "Don't leave me," I wailed theatrically. But I knew he had too. "My Dad has a meeting at the Lodge this morning and then he'll hit the gym. He won't be home till noon. If you play your cards right, you can be out the door before then and avoid seeing him till you get off work." My face cracked open with the biggest smile. "I could kiss you right now. But only if you can tell me his schedule for the rest of the week!" Rich laughed and I kissed him anyway. "I promise, it won't be that bad. I'll see you in three days." I saw Rich off then decided to go explore my new kingdom. His father wasn't wrong when he said it was bigger. Soon enough I found myself in a dark bedroom with a hint of cigars and cologne. This must be John's room, I smirked. I traipsed through to the master bathroom, afterall, I needed to check the prescriptions. Make sure I wasn't staying under the same roof as a serial killer. Coincidentally, I probably looked like the psycho as I started rifling through his drawers. "What the hell is this?" I muttered. I hefted it out, my jaw dropping in awe. This thing was even bigger than Homelander's Star Spangled Banger. I didn't even know they made dildos this inhumanly huge. I started carrying it out of the bathroom, towards my own room. Then I stopped. What was I doing? I couldn't possibly– Could I? I looked back down at it. It was so heavy. So mind-bogglingly huge. My pussy ached just thinking about it. It was barely seven, and Rich said his Dad wouldn't be home till noon. That was plenty of time. Time for what, I asked myself– Then almost immediately replied. Time to see how much of this terrifyingly tremendous dildo I could fit into my wet, little cunt. I laid back after grabbing the bottle of lube and letting a drop fall onto my lips. A thrill ran down my spine, I was already getting wet. Especially as it took two hands to lift and maneuver the giant dildo up. I inhaled and held my breath in anticipation. Was I really going to do this? Without a second thought I pressed the dildo to my folds. My pussy lips parted and I let out a sigh. I pressed it lightly against my entrance, then harder. Goddamn. It was so huge! I subconsciously rocked my hips. My folds slid along the tip coating that giant head with cream. I couldn't help but groan at the sensation. *** Across town, John was just taking a seat on the bench at the gym. He looked down as his watch buzzed– Richard texting to say he was boarding his flight. How the hell his son had scored such a sexy little minx, he'd never understand. Pre-workout in hand, John took a big swig before laying back and getting under the bar. His hands wrapped around the cool metal, lifting up and then down. It felt lighter today. A twinge of excitement shot down his spine. His lips parted in a whisper. "What the–" His cock stirred and his balls churned with anticipation. His fingers readjusted. "Oh god–" he groaned. A sensation of power overtook him. "Oh god, this feels so good!" *** "Oh god!" I wailed. The skin of my entrance was wrapped tight around the head of the dildo. But fuck! "This feels so good!" The monstrous head of the toy filled the first few inches of my sex. I pushed it in farther, my god, there was still so much! My pussy lips were stretched taut around the thick silicone shaft, but I wanted more! *** "Oh fuck yes, MORE!" John roared as he pumped the bar with exceedingly more ease. The only reason he even had to put it back down was so he could adjust his hands to make room for his swelling pecs. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but he could feel his whole fucking body shudder with growth. His feet slid across the gym floor as his legs grew longer too. But not just longer, thicker. More powerful. He felt like he could press a truck! "Holy fucking Christ!" He yelled. John swore his voice sounded deeper as his giant python snaked down his pant leg. He could feel his balls swell. He was getting so hot. Ready to explode. *** Lube was mixing with my juices, being spread all over the enormous dildo. I was moving it so furiously inside my hungry hole, feeling the shaft hitting hard against me. I was growing so hot, ready to explode. The sensation was so intense, my orgasm so close I could taste it. I guided the dildo back inside, fucking myself with long, deep strokes. Suddenly, I felt it. No, not my orgasm. I felt the dildo, suddenly growing even bigger, thicker and longer inside me. "Oh holy fucking Christ!" I screamed. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Penetration never used to be enough to get me off, but now I was helpless and at the mercy of this growing monster dildo. I stopped abruptly, leaving myself impaled on the dildo's new full length. I could feel my pussy trembling– could feel my flesh tightly gripping every inch of this dildo's impressive girth. My eyes fluttered closed and I gripped the toy with both hands. This was it! With a final hard plunge, I moaned and bucked and screamed. I passed out a few moments later, but not before pulling the dildo from my well-fucked hole. ***A/N- Kinda written for our fave, resident beast friend. And kinda just because, well... DADDY. If you're not following me on Twitter, you're really missing out! @hstrikes3***

This is my first attempt at this, so be kind. This story may include themes which some readers may find disturbing such as worship, hot dads, and rough sex. All characters are over the age of 18. I have several chapters already written. So if there’s interest I’ll post more. ——————————————————————— James had just finished his sophomore year of college and was heading home on summer break. He always looked forward to going home because that was when he got to relax. At school he was involved in so many things it was hard for him to take a moment to himself. At 5’10” with a track runners build he was in shape, but not huge by any means. He likes to think of himself as a twink, and oh yeah, he’s gay. He wasn’t out to anyone, but he always knew, every since he was a little kid. His mom had left his dad shortly after he was born so he had never really known her. His dad worked as a financial investor, and spent quite a bit of time at work. His dad wasn’t always there for him, but he worked hard to make sure James had everything he needed. Going to college several hours away from his home he hadn’t been home in almost two years, so the distance between James and his dad had remained. James’ father, John, had always been a bit of a mystery to him. His father never dated anyone that he had known of, mostly involved himself with his job, and only had a few hobbies, one of them being working out. Although James hadn’t seen his dad shirtless in years, he remembered times from when he was younger. His dad was quite a bit taller than he at 6’4”. His dad was also always one of the biggest dads. On the rare occasion his dad took him to a school event, John always towered over the other dads, with arms thicker than most of their thighs. With a buzz cut, a tattoo sleeve on his arm, and his size, his dad was quite the impressive and imposing man. James clearly had to take after his mom. This was how James knew he was gay, because for as long as he could remember he was in love with muscle. Sneaking his dads bodybuilding magazines and watching powerlifting completions with his father, he knew what he liked. Muscle. And a lot of it. His dad rarely voiced political opinions but just looking at him James had always assumed that he could never come out to his dad. This sets the stage for the events that follow when James gets home from college late one May afternoon.

Here is the first chapter of a new story commissioned by my lovely commissioner @XbikXBd I promise Simulated Universe is not over! If you have any inquires about commissions, feel free to contact me via DMs! I hope you all enjoy the start to the adventures of a growing polyamorous couple! Chapter 1: In a quaint little town of Valbrook lives a very nice and small community. Population was never one of the driving forces to grow the community, nor was there a strong sense of tourism needed to help out with the city's budgets. Rather, everyone that lived in quaint old Valbrook got along with one another and often had quiet days. Business owners of different shops never expected much of an absurd amount of business, but they each received patronage to get by. Most of the community in Valbrook tended to be men, who often looked to start a quiet life whether by themselves or starting a life with a family. One of these businesses that held position on one of the town's corners like any other business, such as the barbershop, local tailor, and of course, the town's only gym which was headed by quite the specimen. Our shop that we will be focusing on today in this town of Valbrook is called the Sound of Music, a music and records shop. Gifted to him by an uncle who had passed, Razzo had inherited the shop and his new life in the town of Valbrook. Life had not been easy for Razzo, even if he was quite the looker. Having had two failed marriages, Razzo was left with custody of his only son who had recently departed his nest and had been taken to college. As much as he loved his only child, he knew that he would leave Razzo at some point to discover his own path. Even though things got quite lonely over the years, Razzo who was now 37 years old, had managed to find some companionship within the town of Valbrook. Rather, he had found a couple of employees that he had taken quite the fancy to. Personality-wise, Razzo could be a tad bit rigid, which had contributed to his failed marriages. Preferring to be more straight-laced and analytical, it took a certain type of person to be able to get Razzo to break through his tough and solid exterior. Fortunately enough, Razzo had not only found one, but two people to help break through his exterior. It first started with Jack. Jack had recently moved to Valbrook the year prior when he was 18, looking for a new start after coming out to his family. He had been the champion football star of his town and had a lot of pressure on proposing to his girlfriend, but secretly, he knew that would never make him happy. One night, Jack packed up a bag and booked a bus ticket to get far away from his old town and found himself settled in Valbrook. Looking for a job and surviving off the local homeless shelter, Jack managed to impress Razzo enough to work at his shop. At first, Jack was more reserved, but as he began to grow more comfortable around Razzo, he began to open up to the older man. Eventually, Jack had begun to see Razzo as a father figure for himself as his real father was never the type of man to really care about his current achievements. His father was obsessive over what could be rather than what had already been obtained. Having had most of his life handed to him on a silver platter, Razzo pitied the young caucasian boy as he did not have a very strong work ethic. Razzo, on the other hand, learned from his mother the importance of working for the things you want. Razzo’s mother was from Mexico, specifically Guadalajara, and his father from Greece. Razzo’s father met his mother while on vacation and the rest is history, eventually leading to Razzo’s birth in the United States. Taking the time to teach the young man was definitely something Razzo had enjoyed doing, and even missed as he thought of how much of a son Jack was sort of like. Was Jack filling that void for Razzo? Perhaps, but both were very satisfied with what was developing between them. One night as they were closing the store, Jack had opened up to Razzo, and had come out to the older man. Razzo sighed and gave Jack a big bearish embrace telling him he had nothing to worry about, as he wanted to tell him a secret of his own. Razzo was actually bisexual, in which he kept hidden in the dark from his wives and even his own son for the time being. Upon that night's end, the relationship between the two men began to blossom and unfold over the next coming months. Everyday Jack would go to the gym, maintaining and working out his body as he had learned to do when practicing football. After each gym session, he would stop by and pester Razzo before his shift, or even on his days off. When Razzo discovered that Jack was living in the homeless shelter, he had gotten upset that the young boy didn’t tell him his situation. Jack would apologize saying he was “Sorry Dad”, which made Razzo’s large bulky chest puff up. In no time at all, Razzo would take no for an answer, picking up Jack and his things and setting him up in one of his spare bedrooms. Jack would continue to call Razzo father, dad, and pops, which began to stir something inside Razzo, he was starting to like that. Jack’s personality began to come to the forefront once he and Razzo developed a closer bond. Sometimes Jack’s entitlement from his wealthy life would pour into his mannerisms and actions, in which Razzo would scold him and “threaten” him with spanking to be disciplined. Little did Razzo know at the time, Jack liked that idea. When Jack starts becoming attracted to someone, he tends to fall rather hard. Although the two men had developed an interesting relationship with each other, Jack sometimes left little hints here and there to Razzo that he liked him more than just a father figure and good friend. Razzo, who is naturally more keen, picked up the hints but did not act on them…until a year later. Upon his nineteenth birthday, Jack and Razzo had a quiet celebration together in which Razzo offered Jack anything he wanted. Taking that notion in stride, Jack had removed his flimsy party hat that Razzo bought from the local drugstore and sat in the big burly man’s lap. Feeling up Razzo’s big arms and bulky chest, Jack pushed his washboard abs into the older man’s beer gut. After that night, the two had become more than just friends. Jack, having taken the lead, bred the larger man all night long, enjoying the older daddy begging for his young big cock. In the morning, the two had a discussion and came to the conclusion, they would like to start seeing each other, but wanted to keep it a secret from the town. Little time did it take before the two men ended up having a new big variable enter the mix. Alonzo had arrived in town at first to join the city council; there had been a big issue with budgeting that he was supposed to fix. On one of his days off, he decided to visit the town square, tired of having to keep his eyes on a glowing screen and skimming through files. Entering the Sound of Music, the stocky tall african-american man had come into contact with Razzo and Jack. It was love at first sight seeing Alonzo. Both Jack and Razzo had instantly felt an attraction to the man, and couldn’t hide it from one another. That night, they discussed the hot new customer that had visited the shop. Eventually, conversation steered toward the two men being open to having a third join them. Razzo never thought he would ever be open to an open relationship, let alone the potential to a throuple, but plans are never set in stone. Continuing his duties with the city council, Alonzo was able to clean up all debt and even procure some extra funding through different untapped claims that had been underutilized for some time. In his own spare time, the big man decided to take every opportunity he could to get to know the two men that called the record shop home. Wearing a tank-shirt and some shorts, Alonzo strutted in everyday sandals first. Jack and Razzo tended to notice that the big man liked to wear as little as possible when he wasn’t working. Often showing off the ample curves of his stomach and pert rump, alongside larger broad shoulders, the stringed tank top did very little to conceal the mass of the man. Sprinkles of chest hair would poke out of the tank top, with little slips of sweat slinking down the large man. Amongst the three, Alonzo stood the tallest of the three at 6’1. Followed by the other dad-bod man, Razzo, who was 5 '10. Jack was the shortest at 5’8, but by far the cockiest as he began to grow more comfortable around Alonzo. Alonzo noticed the rigidity of Razzo when he interacted with other customers, but noticed how much he softened up when speaking with Jack in particular. Little did Razzo and Jack know, but Alonzo had caught a sneaky glance of the two kissing in the shop before he entered. So that was the dynamic between the two. It definitely piqued Alonzo’s curiosity, and definitely made him want to enact on his attraction he felt for both men. Having the ability to be quite confident in himself, Alonzo prided himself when it came to swooning different types of men, both younger and older, and of each body type. Testing his capabilities, he first began to flirt with the other large man. Complimenting Razzo’s beefy build led Razzo to become a bit dumbfounded. Razzo, although larger and beefier, did not really enjoy his dad-bod as much as Alonzo seemed to. It was no secret that Razzo despised coming to be near 40, the dreaded middle age. No longer being built like a bodybuilder like he was back in college, the pudge that grew on his frame taunted him everytime he saw himself in a mirror. Contrary to Alonzo’s tank tops and shorts, Razzo opted to wear clothing that concealed his budding frame, trying to wear button ups and pants that best hid his aging body. Where Razzo felt some distaste for his body, Jack definitely let him know how much he adored it. Jack would tell Razzo how sexy he was in bed and when alone, which did spark some confidence in Razzo. Albeit, seeing another man with a similar-ish build showing off his own frame did do some wonders of Razzo’s own confidence. He didn’t mind a beefy guy, but struggled with his own self-esteem. Alonzo being the ever so confident man was definitely going to do his best to rub off on the man. Time continued to pass by as Alonzo was coming closer to concluding his duties within the town. Feeling a tinge of sadness of having to leave his routine of seeing the two hot studs, Alonzo went to visit with the bad news. Jack, who was at the shop, was not one to let a guy slip away, especially not one that he and his boyfriend had both confessed they were equally attracted to. Grabbing the large man’s hand, Jack led Alonzo into the backroom, leading him to where Razzo was focusing on knocking out some of the facility's bills. Being the cocky little devil he was, Jack had begun to strip away the tank top that was clinging onto Alonzo’s frame. Gently placing kisses along his neck before becoming more ravenous. Kissing all the way down the man’s chest onto his big belly, Jack gave it a few smack’s before strutting behind him. Alonzo let out a heart chuckle as he let the young stud take full control. Not before long, Jack had pulled down Alonzo’s shorts, his ass and cock fully exposed. The man had been going commando the entire time. While worshiping Alonzo’s body, Alonzo had begun to rub himself, enjoying the young man going to work. Flabbergasted at the show Jack was putting on in front of him, Razzo quickly got up and locked the door, grabbing the boy before apologizing to Alonzo. Instead of being angry, Alonzo pulled Razzo to his lips and started to make out with him, his long thick tongue penetrating Razzo’s mouth. Razzo was in a whirlpool of emotions. Confused, shocked, and most importantly, aroused. This was the very start of something big about to come for the three men. As Alonzo’s duties had concluded, he found he quite liked the town of Valbrook and the companionship he had developed with both Jack and Razzo. It was a no-brainer that he decided to stay, finding some work nearby. Visiting the records shop everyday until his “departure” he opened up with the news that he was planning to remain in the town. Jack and Razzo were beyond elated to find out their new man was deciding to stay within the town. This was a cause to celebrate something new for the three men, something unique yet beautiful. Jack and Razzo had asked Alonzo if he would be open to a dinner date with the two at their house, Razzo offering to barbecue. Alonzo groped his large gut and agreed, saying he hoped Razzo cooked a lot of food. Jack was in love with the prospects of the two large men being around him. He loved how bubbly Alonzo’s ass was, wanting an opportunity to breed him like he did to Razzo each night. Fortunately, after a few drinks, that wish happened. Razzo sucked on Alonzo’s girthy cock while Alonzo was rubbing his large size fourteen feet on the sides of Razzo’s cock. Jack, meanwhile, had taken to Alonzo’s cake as a mighty fine dessert after their barbecue feast. Their celebration continued on for hours, going into the early hours of the morning, and even onto the next day and night. Razzo made sure Alonzo was comfortable enough to stay over in the house, in which Alonzo was more than glad to oblige. Jumping to a few months later, the three men had been living peacefully together under Razzo’s house. A newborn throuple had joined the midst of the world, taking every single moment to revel in each other’s presence. Alonzo had joined the record’s shop as Razzo’s new financial advisor, being able to spend time with his two new lovers. Although the town remained quiet for the moment, something had begun brewing in the world. Another variable ready to not only throw the world into a new era, but a new life for the three men. A new concoction had been mixed and experimented with. Promising the hopes of developing muscle mass and size growth, this drug was called Valorem. Only rumors had been spread around, even some online posts about it becoming an up and coming miracle drug. It tended to only affect the bodies of men, and the results that did work and that were deemed believable were unreal. Mostly sought after by gay and bisexual men, the Valorem serum was deemed a rarity. That was until, it was spotted in the local gym by Jack. Jack had grown pretty close with the owner, having spent everyday at the gym for the last year and a half. The two had a close friendship, and the owner, who was an older guy, was quite fond of Jack. Knowing the drive and hunger that Jack possessed when working out, he knew the young guy was aiming to be the biggest he could be. He enjoyed seeing the high spirits, even offering to personally train Jack for free. Whenever new shipments came to the gym’s shelves, the owner was always ready to offer a sample container for free when it came to Jack. It was no secret that the owner of the gym knew how cocky Jack was, especially when it came to size. He had seen the muscles grow on the once football built boy, now turning into an amateur bodybuilder. Every new youngin’ that came through was being dwarfed by the young college stud. Not to mention, the owner knew Jack had quite the sizeable bulge. Jack had also opened up to the owner about being gay which the owner only smirked and confessed he was also a part of the community. Jack, being the ever so loose lipped, had made it apparent he was dating not only one but two guys, and that they were quite big. Jack always talked about size at the gym, it was his favorite topic. Especially when it came to Valorem. Upon performing his usual inventory checks, the owner had a means of receiving the Valorem serum that Jack had so desperately been talking about. By the next arrival of his new shipment, the owner was ready to give the beauty of what was Valorem to the eager guy. He’d love to see the hulking young boy grow into something spectacular. That is, if the serum would work for him. Unfortunately, there was only a small percentage of men that the drug would actually work for. If, by a stroke of luck, the drug would work, it would affect each individual who injected the drug differently. Originally, Valorem was supposed to be only taken by an injection. However, due to experimenting with the drug, the owner had managed to get their contacts to mix it into a protein powder for a trial run. Creating the canister that contained the protein powder, the owner was very precise in making sure he put an exact number of a proper dosage involved for growing up to three men. Seeing how Jack lit up at the prospects of his huge lovers, he had a feeling Jack may try to get his lovers to try out the miracle serum. Upon finishing his preparations, the owner waited until Jack arrived, waiting to tell him the surprise. Without a hitch, Jack was beyond elated and absolutely overthrown with disbelief that his buddy was able to procure such a rarity. Jack, who was eager to try the stuff right away, decided to try to contain his excitement until he got home, wanting to share the news with his lovers. ===================================================================== “Oh dad’s, your lovely “son” is back home from his rigorous workout with big news. Emphasis on the big!”. Jack belted as he opened the door, quickly locking it with his special gift in a bag being held by his other hand. Alonzo and Razzo were both sipping their morning coffee, Razzo reading a newspaper while Alonzo was scrolling through his phone at the news outlets. Both were only wearing briefs, bellies out and pushing against the family room table, Alonzo’s more so than Razzo’s. Both older men looked up from their activities at their younger lover, gym shirt plastered with sweat from the deep ridges and grooves of his muscled body. Jack’s short gym shorts were hugging his inner thigh, any shorter and he could be warranted for indecent exposure possibly. “What’s with all the yelling so early Jack? I haven’t finished my first cup yet. Bad enough our boyfriend here woke me up with the blender this morning.”, Razzo rolled his eyes, giving a slight glare to Alonzo. Alonzo chuckled and just shook his head. “Well after this news, you’re going to be wide awake you hunk!”. Jack moved over to kiss Razzo on his cheek, feeling the fresh morning stubble that had grown onto the man overnight, Razzo huffed.. Moving over to Alonzo, Jack did the same but was met with an extra kiss on the lips from the extra affectionate man. “So what’s got you belting first thing in the morning? You being a morning lark is bad enough, you don’t have to share your enthusiasm with us two.”, Razzo grumbled. Alonzo got up to wash his mug, giving Razzo a slight punch in the arm playfully. “Leave our boy alone you old grump, he’s full of youth and vigor. He can’t help being excited all the time. I believe you’re the one that enjoys his excitement the most, especially last night.”, Alonzo chided. “Shut up you lumbering bear.”, Razzo punched Alonzo’s arm and rolled his eyes. “Anyways, more about what I’ve been waiting to tell you both, and more importantly, what I’ve been dying to try. I’m sure you two have heard about Valorem right?”, Jack asked eagerly, making eye contact with both men. “Ya never shut up about it, of course we’ve heard about it. What does this have to do with us though?”, Razzo asked, curiosity piqued. “Well, my buddy at the gym pulled a few strings and managed to get me my own little stash of it! All thanks to my good looks, charm, and hard work. You can both start praising me whenever you want. I’m waiting.”, Jack smugly grinned, waiting for the two men to be in awe. Razzo and Alonzo just gave each other a glance, almost as if they were speaking telepathically before Razzo spoke up first, “So you’re saying, that container there on our table, has that supposed mystery drug that’s been going around the internet? Why the hell would you want that?” “Uh because it has the chance to make you grow bigger? Why else? Don’t be such a fuddy duddy pops, it’s not a good look for you. Where’s that confident man with all that swagger I like?” Jack sat down next to Razzo, positioning his hand down toward the older man’s beefy butt. “Flattery ain’t gonna get you everything you want kid.”, Razzo scowled. “It sure can get me close though. What about you, my sexy second daddy? Are you in or are you in?” Jack turned his attention over toward Alonzo. Taking a moment to gather his words, Alonzo liked to prepare what he wanted to say in advance so as to not say the incorrect things, and so he could prepare his dad jokes whenever he could. Once he found out that Jack and Razzo had a father son dynamic going on, he offered to join in. After a pause of his thinking, the man spoke, “From what I and Razzo have seen and read, it’s still a pretty new drug that can have irreversible effects on a man's body. Plus, we don’t know if it has negative side effects besides that alleged growth. Those photos could be photoshopped son! How would you feel if you bloated up like a cow and ended up on the moo-spaper?” Jack and Razzo made brief eye contact with each other, unamused at that one. Alonzo had some jokes here and some good punchlines, but this was not one of those times. “I see I’ll need to workshop that one.” Alonzo pouted. “I’ve told you before, they weren’t photoshopped! I even gave you both a demonstration with photoshop itself to see if it was. Besides that point, the only negative side effect of the serum is that it might not work. But if we take the chance and it does, we could see some incredible gains!” Jack passionately explained, one palm on the table and the other clenched as if he was delivering an epic speech to a crowd of two unwilling volunteers. “Okay bud, number one, what do you mean we? Number two, what if Alonzo and I don’t want to grow? Number three, who said we are going to allow you to put that stuff into your young body. God you youngin’s are so impressionable.”, Razzo reached over, grabbing the container, reading the instructions that had been printed and labeled onto the packaging. “I thought it was only injections too. Why the hell do you have this as a powder form?’ Razzo continued to nag on. “This is the latest stuff my lovely over-analytical daddy. Now, to answer your questions, we are a throuple, we do everything together. Two, we both know Alonzo loves showing off his body, even if he is too lazy to wear anything different than his usual choices.” Jack pointed to the biggest man in the room. “He’s got a point there babe. Speaking of, the cereal is too far away…can you grab it for me Jack? Pretty please with a daddy on top?” Alonzo pleaded. He was too comfortable where he was at. How could Jack deny such a cutie? Obtaining the cereal, he returned it to Alonzo before continuing on with his little speech, “Thank you for that my LOVING boyfriend”, Jack side-eyed Razzo before continuing, “As I was saying, and for number three, I’m an adult and can do what I want. I know you both love acting like my dads and love when I call you that in bed and in private, but I get to make my own decisions.” Jack began to peel off his sweaty tank. “Again, he’s got another point babe. He is an adult, who are we to deny our lovely son the potential to grow up big and strong like his dad’s?” Alonzo had finished eating his cereal, putting it into the sink and walked over to Razzo. Putting his beefy arms over his boyfriend’s neck, rubbing his beard into Razzo’s shoulder’s. Razzo kept his eyes closed, pondering the proposition and points his boyfriend was using to combat his logic. Alonzo’s beard rub was also a nice touch too. Alonzo began to coo into his boyfriend's ear, “What’s the harm in letting our boy try it out? He’s been doing such a good job at the gym, he deserves a big reward doesn’t he babe?” “Aghh, fine, you know I can’t say no to you.”, Razzo spoke gruffly, rubbing his head into Alonzo’s beard. Alonzo moved the position of his hands to massage Razzo’s neck. “However, I didn’t say I would be partaking in this.” “Whatever pops. Thanks for getting our boyfriend to see my point, Alonzo. When this thing works for me, I’ll make sure to give you both a big reward.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows at the two men. He loved filling their big daddy bubble butts whenever he received the opportunity. According to the history of Valorem, the serum has enhanced the size of male genitalia. Already heavily gifted at an erect size of ten inches, Jack wondered how much larger he could get his cock to grow with the assistance of the serum. “Alright, you two. I gotta finish packing to go to that damn convention Alonzo got me roped into. You’re a wiz when it comes to numbers and I am grateful for what you’ve done for our shop, but damn you to hell for making branding deals. You know I hate flying.”, Razzo was unamused, already feeling displeased at the thought of flying in such a cramped aircraft. “Don’t blame me for getting you ahead of the game. With this deal, we’re gonna be set. That little shop of yours is gonna soar sky high stud.”, Alonzo grinned, pleased with his handy work. “I just don’t like being gone for too long. Two weeks is such a long time. Especially when away from my two guys, you know that.”, Razzo was not one to overly share his emotions, but he felt most vulnerable when away from his support system. “See Jack, your daddy has a soft spot for us!” Alonzo cooed. “Enough sentiments you old lug, go get packing. Your flight leaves tonight.” Jack, who had fully stripped into nothing but his jockstrap, was ready to take a shower. “We raised an exhibitionist didn’t we?”, Alonzo chided. “You did, not me.”, Razzo spoke, waving his hand as he left to go upstairs to finish packing the items he would need for his two week trip. Waiting for Razzo to stumble out of the room, still groggy from waking up, Alonzo moved over to the container of powder in which contained the Valorem. Reading the instructions, Alonzo’s face turned as if he had an idea. Jack watched with intent as he watched his boyfriend seemingly come up with a plan. “Let me guess, you’re on the same page about seeing if he can grow too?”, Jack inquired, smirking at Alonzo. Returning with a devilish smile, Alonzo replied, “Bingo.You know I love to play pranks on your other dad. Remember the time I kept messing with the power at the store during Halloween when he was working late that night?” “I remember the yelling and lecture you got from my room. Then the loud breeding until I had to go and shut you both up with my cock.”, Jack recalled. “So what’s the plan, big guy? How are we going to make sure our boyfriend sees things our way?” Jack picked up his gym clothes, slinging them over his arm. “Morally, I know it’s wrong to give someone something that they are not asking for, especially this serum, but I know our boyfriend will see things our way if he gets a taste of what this could potentially do for us. Plus he owes me for breaking my favorite watch.”, Alonzo explained while walking over to grab one of Jack’s blender bottles that the throuple shared. “Go on, I’m liking what I’m hearing so far…” Jack trailed off. “So, when our lovely boyfriend is about to take his supplements and vitamins in about I don’t know, ten minutes as he always forgets to take them after his coffee, we slip him some of this in his water when he downs them. What do you think?” Alonzo already prepped the water, pouring the appropriate amount of Valorem powder into the cup, stirring it with a spoon. Thankfully, the water’s consistency and color did not change. It looked damn near invisible. “This is why I love you big guy. Great minds think alike! Now, how about we get some of that powder into our system? I can’t wait any longer!” Jack went over to kiss his boyfriend, both stared at the water excitedly. ===================================================================== According to plan, ten minutes later Razzo did his usual spiel about forgetting to take his supplements and vitamins, downing the Valorem-enhanced water. Jack was in the shower, while Alonzo minded his own business seeing if Razzo had any reaction. Just as intended, the man seemed to notice nothing. Alonzo and Jack had already ingested their own helping of Valorem-enhanced water. According to discussions about the serum, one dose should be taken every six weeks. Within the first two weeks, anyone who had received Valorem in their system would either see changes or if they did not, it just didn’t mesh with their biology. Acting as if he would never see them both again, Razzo gave both of his boyfriends repeated physical affection all day until he had to take a taxi to the airport for his flight. Razzo would be gone for the next two weeks, so the house was going to be all just for Alonzo and Jack! Both men were so excited to see if the serum would affect their bodies that they decided to promise one another that if they noticed any changes, they would say something right away. Too excited to sleep, Jack was the most boned he had been since he could remember. Sneaking into Razzo and Alonzo’s room, he found Alonzo sleeping naked on the bed. Jack’s rock hard ten inch cock stood at full rigid attention. Approaching the bed, Jack crept up quietly, hearing the light snores of the large man. Preparing his sneak attack, Jack lunged onto the bed, landing on the big guy's belly perfectly. Alonzo, who was startled awake, noticed the young boy straddling his belly. Feeling that familiarly large cock poking into his belly, Alonzo grinned knowing exactly what Jack wanted. Alonzo was always happy to oblige. As the days passed, Alonzo and Jack spent the days with their normal routine. While Razzo was away on his work meeting, he had left Alonzo in charge of the records shop in which Jack kept pouting. Razzo specifically stated the biggest man got to be in charge and even though Jack was the biggest when it came to muscles, he had nothing on Alonzo’s height and overall weight. Whenever the day ended however, the two men would hump like rabbits. Jack was a complete top, so he was always filling that round smooth ebony bubble butt. Alonzo, who was verse, was more than happy to take his young lover’s powerful cock. Every thrust sent Alonzo’s legs into a quiver. Five days had passed since the two men had been house sitting when Jack was the first to notice a change. Unfortunately, that change was not on himself. Every morning and night Jack would sneak measurements of himself to see if something had changed, but he was always met with disappointment. That would stop him from persevering through, he was determined to see himself grow from the dosage he had received. No, the change he noticed was with his boyfriend, Alonzo. While getting ready for a movie night, Alonzo emerged with a bowl of popcorn. Upon entering the room, Jack noticed that his boyfriend’s head was closer to the doorframe than it used to be. Alonzo’s favorite loungey shirt he was wearing also seemed to be riding up his stomach as well. Alonzo typically ate a fair amount, but in the last couple days, Jack had not noticed his boyfriend eating more than he did on an ordinary day. Alonzo’s belly definitely looked a lot fuller as of late. Not wanting to relay the information to his boyfriend, Jack was feeling quite mischievous. Planting his head onto the bulging belly, he could hear his boyfriend’s tummy gurgling, almost as if there were little bubbles inside popping constantly. Even as he sat on the couch, Jack noticed Alonzo’s head was higher than normal. It looks like the Valorem mixed well with Alonzo’s biology! Jack was happy for his boyfriend, but also feeling a tad bit discouraged. If the Valorem had luckily worked for Alonzo and had already begun to take effect on day five, then what about himself? Bursting his pondering, Jack couldn’t help but notice a treasure trail leading from his boyfriend’s belly button down to his crotch had appeared. When did that happen? Alonzo typically only kept a beard and some slight chest hair. Having explored Alonzo’s body many times, Jack was quite fond of seeing some hair growth on his daddy. Another three days had passed when Jack noticed another change. Arriving home from the gym, Jack was feeling horned up. Today was push day, and Jack pushed himself hard. The gym’s owner who had gifted Jack the Valorem had asked if he had tried it yet. Jack said he hadn’t seen any gains quite yet, but noticed some in his boyfriend. The owner whistled when Jack told him, telling him it will be kicking in for him soon no doubt. However, after his training session he took his measurements with the gym owner. Although Jack hadn’t seen any increase in height or in his dick, one victory was that he had gained 5 pounds in muscle! Guess that’s what his buddy meant when he said it’d be kicking in soon! Jogging back home, Jack was ecstatic and finding out his gains. Opening the door, Jack was ready to tell his boyfriend about his size increase when he found him huffing in the foyer, trying to slide his feet into his sandals. It was no secret Alonzo had large feet, naturally he was an astounding size fourteen in that department. It made shoe shopping a hassle which is why the daddy opted to wear sandals as they were the easiest shoe to find in his size. What used to be an easy shoe to slide into that is. The foot being shoved into that sandal was no longer a size fourteen. Alonzo’s heel was sticking out quite a bit while his toes hung over the tops like a cliff. “I swear my favorite pair of sandals shrunk!” Alonzo grunted, frustrated. “Are you finally going to acknowledge that you are bigger? Or have you just not noticed yet, stud?” Jack winked. Realizing the situation, Alonzo looked dumbfounded that he didn’t even consider the fact his foot could have grown. Hell, he even forgot he took the Valorem with Jack. Jack on the other hand, was the more studious one of the two when it came to observing not only his own body, but also Alonzo’s. “Hate to be the one to ruin the surprise dad, but you’ve grown.” Jack grinned in a feral manor, lust in his eyes, Witnessing his big daddy boyfriend get even bigger? That was a fantasy come true. “I guess I have been feeling a bit heftier, but I thought it was just my imagination.” Alonzo chuckled, bending down to reach for his now too small sandals when both the men became distracted with a loud ripping sound. Turning his neck, Alonzo could see that his favorite shorts had ripped down the seams of his crack. His meaty bubble butt looked much fatter than usual. “I guess not just my feet had grown huh boy?” A giant tent pitched Jack’s gym shorts. No words were spoken, just a loud thump as Jack threw himself onto the big daddy. Right in the foyer, Jack had jumped the larger man. Using his strength he worked on everyday at the gym, Jack turned Alonzo over. Alonzo’s bulging belly rested on the cold tile floor, making him shudder. Reaching for the already ripped seams, Jack flexed his biceps, ripping open the seams further until the entirety of Alonzo’s shorts had been decimated completely. Exposed to the morning air was that beautifully smooth ebony ass that Jack loved so much. “Come here big daddy, I used to be up a little bit above your chest. Now, I’m barely near your nipples!” Jack waved his hand in front of the man, comparing their sizes. “As for that ass, you used to be smuggling a pound cake back there, now you are developing a full on wedding cake! Your shorts were snug before, but the tops of your briefs are literally jutting out over the top! How were you going to go out like this?” Alonzo purred as Jack continued to show off his big daddy like a prize winning bull at a county fair. “Not to mention, these big feet of yours.” Jack had come close to Alonzo, putting his feet onto the much larger man’s. Jack’s entire foot rested on Alonzo’s and still had spare room to move on it both in length and in width. Alonzo wiggled his toes, feeling the light weight of Jack’s average sized foot onto his gargantuan one. Alonzo had added more junk to his trunk than both men had anticipated. Alonzo craning his neck to look down at his feral boyfriend, admiring their newly developed height difference had Jack’s eyes bulging out, watching just how massive he was growing compared to his young lover. Alonzo broke eye contact to crane his neck back at his feet then at his large assets resting on the back of his body. It was now larger than Razzo’s big beefy butt! Razzo’s big butt had always been the biggest amongst the three men, and had caused Razzo to carry a complex with him all his life, but that ass is what drove both Jack and Alonzo wild. Jack wasted no time ogling the larger daddy any longer, he dashed behind Alonzo, spreading the massive cheeks and began darting his talented tongue on the pulsing hole. Alonzo groaned and moaned, feeling that his hole felt extra sensitive today. Jack’s strong hands gripped each cheek so hard that they began to turn red where his palms spread them. Alonzo could feel himself growing erect, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he was being eaten out. Too caught up in the pleasure coming from his hole, Alonzo didn’t even notice his erection was a tad bit larger than normal. Needing to grip onto the wall for support, Alonzo reached forward, causing his big hand to thud as it crashed into the wall upon contact. As an ass eating champion, Jack was not going to let his prey get away from him so easily. Even after he felt a pool of cum spurt from where Alonzo’s cock had been pointing, little drips sliding down from the wall where the cock was pointed, Jack still continued to eat out the man. Thank god the records shop was closed today, since both men were by no means leaving the house at all! Fuck the grovery shopping they were supposed to be doing! All day long, Jack showed his dominance over the large daddy. He ate him out on the kitchen island, on the couch, on the staircase, in the shower, and of course, on the bed. After countless orgasms from being eaten out, Alonzo didn’t know how he could still be so hard. Jack, on the other hand, kept edging himself the entire time. Every room that the two men encountered, Jack would make comments at Alonzo’s size. Comparing Alonzo’s beefed rump to the size of the kitchen island, which was actually becoming a bit dwarfed by the man. The staircase creaking under Alonzo’s increased weight. Both men struggled to fit into the shower stall at first, Jack having to leave the shower door open a bit just so Alonzo’s ass had room to move when he turned around. After all the foreplay, Jack was ready to take his prize. “Ready for round two big guys? Now it’s time for me to fill up that juicy ass of yours.”, Jack licked his lips. Alonzo grunted as he felt the familiarly large tip of Jack’s cock finally push its way into his tight ring. ===================================================================== Musk was the only aroma that filled the entire house. Even after trying to light a couple candles, the scent of cum and sex seemed to be pressed deep into the house walls. Alonzo and Jack had their libido’s put into overdrive. Together with Razzo, the three were always horny. Without the big man of the house, the two felt like they couldn’t fully get off without their third lover. That plus with the growth of Alonzo, there was very little rest and downtime going on. Even on the days that Jack and Alonzo had to oversee the records shop, they needed to make time to have sex breaks in the back. Alonzo hoped Razzo would not get pissed that he and Jack were fucking and sucking in every position in the back room. He prayed that Razzo wouldn’t look at the security feeds while on vacation either. The last thing he needed was an angry scolding from their lover. Alonzo was also adjusting to his growing size. He absolutely loved showing off his growth to Jack, and loved that Jack had now put on ten pounds of muscle! It may not sound like much, but it definitely made a difference on that boy's physique. A couple customers had to take a couple looks to see if what they saw was actually real. Alonzo had by now grown to an incredibly tall 6 '5, which was comparably noticeable when he used to be an already above average 6' 1. In order to not cause any room for gossip, Jack and Alonzo agreed if Alonzo were to work the front, he would need to be sitting down so people wouldn’t suspect anything suspicious. Besides his height, Alonzo’s new pair of sandals were definitely something to behold. His once size fourteen feet had grown to a massive pair of size seventeens! No shoe store at the local outlet had shoes in his size until the two men took a trip to the local Men’s Big and Tall store. It was only one of two pairs in that size, and Alonzo was relieved that out of the two styles of shoes in that size, one was in the style of sandals. Opting to still dress in his usual attire, whenever it got slow during the day Alonzo would open up his button up shirt, exposing his slightly bigger chest to the cool fans set up around the shop. His big belly was often pushing up against the counter, half of it sitting above the counter now. Hearing the bell chime, Alonzo scrambled to try buttoning up his shirt, doing his best to suck in his gut, attempting to button at lightning speed. Footsteps followed toward the counter, Alonzo grew panicked and hurried, trying not to look indecent for business. “It’s your favorite guy! I brought ice cream.” Jack cheered. Alonzo looked up excited at his young lover, he could feel his tummy gurgling at the thought of being nourished with the sweet delectable cream of an ice cream bar. Growing alongside the size of his belly was the size of his appetite. Every single food item these days had begun to look tasty to Alonzo, making his tummy gurgle and shudder as if it was parched, it needed something to feed its growth. “Of course, I only brought ice cream for myself. Sorry big guy.”, Jack laughed, watching his trick to curb Alonzo’s enthusiasm had worked. Alonzo just rolled his eyes, he should have known better coming from that little stinker. Alonzo was relieved, it was just his boyfriend though. Not realizing he was holding in his breath to hold back his gut, he let out a long exhale. Audible thwacks and pops could be heard as the buttons that attempted to hold back the growing monster gut burst off the man’s shirt. Alonzo’s large gut bulged and smacked into the counter, belly button pushing hard. The treasure trail had grown up a bit further on the gut. “I’m glad it’s just you. I thought it was a customer. I was trying to look decent.”, Alonzo chuckled, looking at the remains of his shirt. Guess he needed to go shopping again for a new wardrobe. “As you can tell, this new diet I am on is currently working wonders on my slim figure. I look like I am near a size two, don't you think Jack?” Alonzo spoke in a mocking serious tone, cradling his belly as if he was in a maternity photoshoot. Jack continued to taunt his daddy lover with the ice cream bar he had bought on his way back from one of the other shops. Lifting his large arm, Jack put down a bag that he was carrying with his other hand onto the counter, beside Alonzo’s belly. It had become customary over the last two weeks that whenever Jack saw Alonzo, he would give him a few belly rubs. Mindlessly rubbing Alonzo’s belly, Jack would often get lost at admiring the heft one of his daddies had developed. He sure was enjoying his daddy’s growth. Jack was curious to see if his other daddy lover would also enjoy the enhancements that were brought about to Alonzo. Speaking of his other daddy, he remembered what he wanted to say, “So, I bought this little gift for our boyfriend since he is coming home tomorrow morning. I’m using it for leverage in the scenarios of “Oh my gosh we missed you so much! We missed you the entire time”,” Jack mimicked in a high pitch voice, then proceeded to go back to his normal pitch, “Or in the scenario the Valorem worked on him and he is pissed that we gave him the serum without him asking.” “Good call. I’m glad you thought of a consolation gift in case he’s pissed. You know how your daddy can get when he gets angry. I’ve been wanting to call him but I know what he is like when he’s super focused. So I’ve just been texting him throughout his trip.”, Alonzo poked at the bag, investigating the contents inside. Low and behold, that little stinker did get him something. A pre-packed chocolate cake. One of Alonzo’s guilty pleasures, or rather, an all the time pleasure he only felt guilty about if he couldn’t finish consuming it all in one sitting. “Has my other big daddy been in a good or foul mood then?” Jack asked, continuing to lick his fruit flavored bar. Watching the bearish older man unpack his dessert, Jack watched as the tattered shirt began to drape itself off of Alonzo’s body. A loud rumbling noise could be heard from the man’s gut, and a slight lurch of the stomach caused Jack to take a second glance. It looked as if the gut was sentient, ready to pounce on the dessert in front of him. No wonder Alonzo could barely keep that sexy ball-gut locked up. “From what he has told me, he’s been super busy having to be social, which you know he is not the fondest of. The flight went well, obviously since he has a pulse, we can assume he’s fine. Razzo also mentioned that he’s going to punish you for being a stinker. He wasn’t very specific on that, but he knows you’ve probably been up to no good. I may have told him you’d been telling me that I am the daddy you love more.”, Razzo laughed, watching Jack’s face contort and turn sour at the thought of their boyfriend calling him out, but it was true, he was being a stinker the last few days. Alonzo wasn’t completely wrong either, he had been receiving more of Jack’s love of late considering his other daddy decided to leave the two boys all to their lonesome, forcing them to fend for themselves in this cold dark horny world. “Whatever, we both were stinkers by sneaking him the Valorem. I’m curious to know if it worked on him. What do you think?” Jack reached for his head, feeling a light brainfreeze coming on. “You know I love playing tricks as much as the next guy, I’m hoping it did and then some. I also slipped your daddy some viagra with a little note, and scribbles of our beautiful faces saying to not miss us too much.”, Alonzo let out a hearty chuckle. “It sounds like you are asking for trouble, big daddy. Anyways, hurry up and get to eating that cake. I don’t want it to go bad after all the effort I went through to be nice.”, Jack smugly stated. Picking up the boxed cake, Jack placed it on Alonzo’s gut, watching the gut balance the prize it so desperately desired. “Looks like we’ll find out tomorrow morning. Now hurry up and clock in, I can’t work out here with my shirt busted. Your daddy has been hard at work and wants his reward!” Alonzo stood up to his new height, belly swaying as he headed to the back, letting Jack take his position at the front counter. Alonzo managed to keep the boxed cake balanced on his stomach for a little bit, which was impressive. Not wanting to risk his reward falling and causing the world’s most diabolical devastation known to man, Alonzo gripped the contents with his larger hands. In the back, Alonzo happily unboxed the cake and dove into it like a feral animal. Chocolate frosting covering his beautifully thick lips, large tongue lapping away at the spongy cake texture. Alonzo’s belly quivered in delight at finally receiving some satiation. His stomach had gone hungry for at least two hours. Upon finally finishing the cake, Alonzo sat back in the office chair satisfied, letting out a few burps and moans as he felt how hard his big belly had become after feasting. Razzo was in for a big treat tomorrow morning.

This guy is about a muscle growth pandemic there's an old thread here on giganticbest there's also an artist on twitter who is making animations about the this hopefully the artists writers write history here maybe even I'll be inspired and write too https://twitter.com/SuperGary10/status/1686012416948142080?t=y_78to0gek3zvM-okk5WAw&s=19 If my writing is wrong, I'm sorry I don't speak English I'm from Brazil, including hi to all Brazilians on this forum

WARNING: This story may contain content that may not be in good taste. Obviously not suitable for minors under 18. If this isn’t for you, kindly keep scrolling. I arrived to work the next evening contemplating on actually not going in. Sitting in my car I realized, nothing is going to be the same. Nothing. If I walk in there, I’ll just be reminded of it all. Cause what the fuck happened last night? First off, the usual was me gawking at the muscular daddy during his workout. Then, me stuffing his oh so tasty jockstrap down the depths of my mouth. Leaving him to catch me in the act and doing it himself? “See you around, faggot.” The phrase rang in my ear during the day, even in my sleep. ‘See you around.’ I see him then what? What will he do? Tell Kyle? Call the cops? What exactly did he mean? I was eager to know but too afraid to actually find out. *** The front desk clerk often just clocks in and goes back to her car to sleep since no one besides him ever really comes in. Regulars get the privilege of not having to strictly check in. Like yesterday, not much cleaning besides ass stains left on certain machines and very few plates laying around. I look over to the dumbbell area and reminisce of his smirk. That’s damned smirk. A little tweak on his devious smile that exuded alpha, as if in he knew why I was so starstruck. He did, in all fairness. My question was, why would he further feed into my creepy intentions? Cause let’s be honest, what I did rummaging through his belongings was perverted as hell and he could easily call the police and file for sexual harassment or something but no. He shoved his crotch-scented jockstrap further down my throat… Since she’s in her car I often just lounge around the front desk, making an accordion out of sticky notes, play snake on the computer, or just take a nap as well. Today I just felt very philosophical in a sense. Last night’s encounter changed my perspective on…well me. Why the fuck did I let him degrade me like that? And why the hell did I enjoy it so fucking much? I grabbed a sticky note and wrote: What would life be if submission didn’t feel so instinctive? I got degraded by a muscle god in the most disrespectful way and I liked it…? What am I to do if he’d take more control of me? Am I just another faggot of his? Or am I of upmost importance that he’d reuse me? Somewhat of a poet when life brings no meaning. Except that’s what I’m questioning. Meaning. The wondering is what aches me. The lingering question of whether that is my purpose, eat, shit, work, sleep, repeat. Or if my purpose was to enhance the life of someone far superior than I am? My epiphany gets cut off as the front doors open. All of a sudden, life went slow motion. Think of those shots of the lifeguards in Baywatch but slow motion, only this was dirt in comparison. From the floor up, I gazed as I took in the massive frame of the man who vulgarized me. He walks in with his gym bag strapped over his shoulders and chewing gum. “Hello,” I quaked,”welcome. Just sign in a-and go r-right ahead.” FUCK. Why was I shaking? Stand your ground. Your legs may turn to jelly when you’re near him but don’t give him that much control. “Oh what,”he smirked,”you don’t recognize me?” “I’m sorry?”I asked. “Don’t act hard to get you runt,” he affirmed. I simply looked down at the computer keyboard. Why was I so turned on right now? “Now,”he begun,”where’s that little miss priss that’s usually here?” “In her car, napping.” “Excellent,” a devious smile formed on his face. “Now,”he continued,” I’m assuming since you aren’t tidying up the place you have some free time?” Before I said a word he stuck his hand out in motion to cut me off. “Never mind that, get up.” I followed him over to the dumbbell area, the same place as yesterday. He turns and hands me his gym bag. “Hold this.” He dropped the bag on my held out arms and turned around to adjust the seat on the bench to an inclined angle. Him leaning over caused a plump on the back of his shorts. Fuck his ass was plump, firm, round. You can easily tell he does not skip leg day. “Go fetch me a towel rag, boy.” ‘Boy.’ What the hell? I know he’s more mature than me but as far as me being such a low for him I would not drag me to being deemed as such a fragile person. Regardless, I did not want to get on his bad side. One punch would send me flying to next week I fear. I “fetched him the towel” then he placed it on the seat of the bench. He went to grab a set of 65s from the rack. Woah. Incline 65? “Grab my lock combination and take my bag to the same locker as last night,” he said,”DON’T go through my shit, I’m giving you thirty seconds, if you’re not back by then you’ll see.” I pace rapidly to the locker room which wasn’t too far. The same locker as last night, how could I forget. I grabbed the already lock combination and opened the locker. Jammed. SHIT. I yanked as hard as I could until it finally budged and I tensely place the gym bag in and managed to click the lock combination closed. I RAN back out there and headed towards the dumbbell area. “THREE…Two…one,” he barked. Fuck. “Oh,”he said sarcastically,” you JUST missed it.” I was panting, man I’m out of shape. “Get on the ground now, runt, facing down.” I did so. In anticipation, he lifted the pair of dumbbells from his sides and placed them flat on my back. FUCK. HOLY SHIT. I CAN’T BREATHE. He leaned forward to meet eye to eye. “Here’s what e gonna happen alright you cunt,”he ordered,” anytime you disobey me I’ll have you do far more humiliating shit than this and last night combined, is that understood?” I nodded. “IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?” “Yes sir.” “Good,”he smiled. He began hawking then he spat on my face. He then grabbed the weights, leaned back, and began pumping his biceps. I gasped for air and managed to get less light headed enough to fully see. I look up and behold the sight of his bulging biceps getting meatier and redder with each rep. Slowly, the skin surrounding his muscle began glistening. “Yeah I see you staring,”he said,”you like that fucking view?” I nodded. “Say it.” “I like the view.” “Why do you like the view what’s so great about it?” “Your body,”I said. “What about my body?” “Your biceps, they’re…getting bigger, like a football.” “What else, faggot.” “Your chest, it’s nice and firm.” “Oh this?”he began to bounce his chest as he set the weights down on my back again. “You like that shit?” He smiled. “Yes sir, very much!” “Get up,”he ordered. He grabbed the weights and I immediately stood at attention. “Take these back to where they were and grab me the 80s.” I did so. I paced back nearly passing out in carrying these dumbbells. I grab the 80s one on each hand. DAMN. My arms feel like they’re about to fall out of their sockets because these shits are heavy as hell. “Yeah you’re struggling huh,”he chuckles,”look at this.” He grabbed the 80s off me and began to do hammer curls with ease at a steady pace. Each rep he looked at his biceps and grunted. Mesmerized by his pump, I stood there eyeing his biceps. “You see that,”he gestured to his left bicep as he kept pumping,”it’s getting bigger huh?” I nodded. “Go ahead,”he kept pumping,”feel that shit.” My jaw quivered. My legs started moving on their own, almost as if I was in a state of hypnosis. My arms levitated forward, reaching out for his bicep. Then. Skin to skin. Holy shit. “Hell yeah boy!” I cupped the football sized arms with both hands and felt hit firm skin growing against the palm of my hands. He set the dumbbells down and my hands remained on his bicep. “Watch this,”he said. He removed my hands from his bicep and rose his arm up to my face and began to bounce his bicep. “Wow,”I whispered. “Damn right wow,”he said,”isn’t that shit beautiful?” “Yes sir.” “Not many can do that.” I didn’t move my hands to touch it even though I deeply wanted to, I awaited for his approval. “You wanna taste it faggot?” Oh goodness… “Yes,”I pleaded. “We’ll have room for that later,”he said,”grab my phone for me faggot.” I reach for his cellphone that’s on the floor. “I want you to record this next workout and tell me how beautiful I am, got it?” “Yes sir!” He reached around the inclined bench and took on of the dumbbells with him. I held up the phone horizontally as he was checking his form through the mirror, I assume he was about to make concentrated curls. “Start recording,”he barked. I did so. “Get closer to my bicep.” I made sure to not block the lighting because as he slowly concentrated his curl, the vein on the side of his bicep began bulging, almost appearing like it’s about to bust…just like my cock in watching this all happen. “How great does that shit look?” “Amazing sir!” “You like how much my shit is growing faggot?” “Yes, very much sir?” “You like me getting nice and pumped and riled up for ya?” “Fuck yes sir!” “And are these the biggest biceps you have ever laid eyes on bitch?” “Yes sir, no other biceps that I see in this gym let alone in my life have ever amounted to the grandeur of your muscle.” “Atta boy,”he smirked,”you crave to suck on them don’t you?” “With everything in me sir!” “And you crave to please your alpha?” “Absolutely sir!” “Atta boy, why don’t you go ahead and give my bicep a nice slap?” I carefully made sure the camera captured my tiny hand slapping the mountain of a muscle this man carried on his arm. “Again.” I slapped. “Again.” I slapped. “Again, harder!” I slapped with everything in me. “Graagh!”he exclaimed,”atta boy, that shit feels good don’t it!” “Yes sir,”I beamed. “Stop recording faggot.” I did so. “Now, put the phone down and follow me here,”he nodded to the pull up bars. We walked over a few feet behind us where the joint cable rows and pull up area was. “Stand right there,”he pointed right bellow the pull up bar. “Now,”he continued,”what I’m gonna do for this last workout are supinated pull-ups, know what those are?” “The one’s that concentrate on your biceps?” “Atta boy,”he laughed,”you know that from all that time you spend gazing at others don’t you faggot?” “Well,”I admitted laughing. “Of course you do,”he continued,”now, I usually attach the weighted belt on me but since I knew I’d require assistance I left on my gym bag so, I’ll use you as my extra weight for today.” He gave me a knowing look as if he knew I’d love this. A devious smile formed on his face that exuded pure alpha dominance. “Now I’m gonna turn around,”he began,” and what I want you to do is to jump on my back and wrap your legs around my waist, your arms carried under my pits then have your hands locked at my shoulders, understood?” “Yes sir.” “No funny business,”he commanded,”I catch you trying to fondle me and I’ll let go of the bar and land my entire weight on you so fast you’ll crack a rib, understood faggot?” “Yes sir.” He stood facing away from me and I was facing his wide back. “Get to it faggot!” I climbed on top of him in one light jump and wrapped my legs around his waist, arms under his pits, hands locked behind his shoulders. “Well damn,”I said,”you’ll do just fine for this weight.” As soon as I was set, he breathed in and jumped with his hands held high, and caught the bar. Just like that, he began the pull ups. With each pull I leaned my ear on his back, hearing his thundering heartbeat, feeling the heat of his body, made full by the loud roar of each of his grunts. So much of this was turning me the fuck on. My crotch pressed against his ass working up and down assured my blood flow to head to the tip of my cock. “You like that shit faggot?”he barked,”I can feel you getting hard!” “Yes sir, this feels amazing!” “Yeah? Look at my arms you see that?” I look above me and holy shit! His biceps looked as if they tripled in size from the first workout. Each pull up only furthering the growth, droplets of sweat running down his shoulders. “Lick my sweat bitch!” I lathered up his shoulders with my tongue, catching drift of the sweat that was cascading down the mounds of muscle on his arm. “Fuck yeah,”he grunted,”lick my shit.” I kept devouring the glorious sweat that sparked my addiction to him. He landed on his feet as he finished. “I’m not even gonna finish this,”he caught his breath,”get off me.” I landed behind him, he turned around. “You got me all riled up boy,”he said as he grabbed the bulge in my pants,”and I see I’m having the same effect on you.” Gosh I felt like I was going to explode when he did that. “How’d I taste?”he asked. “Fucking delicious sir!” “Yeah,”he rubbed his fingers over his armpit and brought them to my mouth,”open up!” I let his gigantic calloused hand invade my mouth, dominating it. In one motion he slid his hand in and out. “That’s right,”he smiled,”take in all of my essence, all of my testosterone, all of my power, boy.” I began to suck on his fingers, i taking as much of his sweat as I could. “Oh shit,”he laughed,”you’re hungry for it aren’t you boy?” I nodded as I was busy sucking his hand. “There’s more where that came from,”he said with a cocky grin,”you want it?” I nodded. He pulled his hand out. “Follow me.”

Warning: this story entails heavy language and other content users may not find friendly. If this is not for you, kindly move on. Have you ever met somebody famous? Better yet. Have you ever been to a concert? The anticipation. The build up. The waiting. It’s almost like a drumroll that’s waiting for that loud “BANG!” The drum roll is the waiting and the bang is the moment the artist walks on stage. The moment they set foot on that stage you start shivering. But not out of cold. Not out of fright. But you shake from the excitement of just being in the same room as them. Every time this behemoth of a man walks through the front doors of the gym, a million jitters dance under my skin. Usually I just observe his workout as I rerack weights from other machines but as I said people somehow found it in their hearts to not be so shitty. I guess I’ll have to pretend to clean again. *** Today’s Wednesday so that means it’s his chest day. He walked over to the dumbbell section and grabbed the 65s and sat down on the bench. For a few seconds he stares intently at his reflection and in one quick motion, knees lift the weight to his chest level and he lays down, then pushes. When I first began night shift this was the most impressed I was. 65 pounds each pec for WARM UP?! I could hardly press 25s as a PR. I brought my windex bottle and an infamous rag that I oddly get turned on by every time I hold one now. I walk over to the treadmills that are facing adjacent a few machines behind where he was and started wiping each surface. His reps slow and concentrated. Every press easily lifted into the air with no trembling like how I usually do when I lift. With each rep his pec just swelled up more and more. The skin of his chest slowly getting redder and sweatier. He pauses then easily sits back up again. I guess I must have been standing still and drooling a bit because after a few seconds of him admiring himself his eyes swiftly locked on me. I locked eyes with him and nodded myself out of the trance and started wiping. I could’ve sworn he had a slight smirk on his face but I kept wiping. I needed to keep myself looking busy on the gym floor if I wanted more time to admire his work from afar. So I went back to my utility close to get a mop and a bucket. I came back out and he had move on to the bench press area. This is where things always get interesting. You’d think an average weight lifter would one up themselves every other month and begin to lift heavier but no. Every muscle group he works out, he lifts heavier than the week prior. Last week I observed him pressing 315 til failure. And believe me, I counted. He had a minimum of 25 reps for at least 5 sets in bench press ALONE! So I stood at the calisthenics and stretching area and began mopping slowly making sure to level my head down but just enough to still catch a glimpse of him in all his glory. Little by little he added plates to each side of the bar. Approaching 315 I was not surprised but still impressed he’d do that much this early in the morning. All of a sudden, when I think he is set to begin his workout, the motherfucker gets TWO MORE PLATES! No way in hell this man will be able to do this without a spotter. 405? He must need at least a bit of help. He begins to align his wrists with the markings on the bar making sure his seat and posture aren’t affecting his form. I gave myself the excuse of staring at him just to make sure that if the weight does turn out to be too heavy I would run towards him and help him pick it back up. At an instance he looked like he was thinking too hard about it but as I thought that he lifted the bar, and without hesitation began crushing each rep at a quantitative pace. His rhythm was fair but concentrated. Each push back up caused him to release a grunt so loud it echoed throughout the facility. Usually I’d be annoyed by a lunk who’d ego lift and scream at every rep but the sounds this man was making only drove me more insane. Again, til failure he went, but I wouldn’t say he failed on his final rep, he probably could keep going all he wants but as he sat up he walked over to the mirror and began to bounce his pecs. Holy fuck. Each slab of meat rippling through his wife beater shirt making his necklace bounce around left to right. He stood back against his hind leg and leaned forward. As if he did a cable row workout he squeezed his arms from his sides and began flexing down the center of his torso, then his pecs swelled up in size. A most muscular. With that pose alone he stared at his reflection and let out a heavy grunt. This was a fucking nightmare. I could not bring myself to ejaculation because he’ll then see it through my khaki pants so I withheld. I needed a release, asap. I brought my mop and bucket with me to the restroom spilling some water along the way but I could not care less I had to release. Barging into the stall, I let loose my pants and sat down on the toilet, and holy fuck my cock was stabbing the seam of my underwear begging to breathe. I held it out and started pumping. Bringing myself to recall his most muscular pose and how his balloon sized tits swelled up, then again his sly smirk earlier for his warm up. What if he looked at me like that? Just the thought of his bouncing his pecs in my face and me licking him clean whilst staring into his eyes, a devious smile on that gorgeous face. Fuck, I couldn’t bare it any longer I felt my balls blue. With no build up, my cum instantly bursted out of my cock and onto the restroom floor. Ounces of semen just coating the cracks of the tile, burst by burst, spasm by spasm, this man had such control over me. No picture or video or visual necessary, just my mind infiltrated by the surreal fantasy of him dominating me with his body alone. I need to clean this shit up or else Kyle will have some more shit to complain about. *** I kept walking around the gym floor mopping nothing. Literally the floor was pristine without any need of mopping. But here I am trying to get even the most milliseconds next to this man as I can. He was on the last of his cable crossovers exercises. Pulling with ease 120 pounds on each side. The fucker could fling around a sumo wrestler for all I know. Then he grabbed his rag and wiped his face and chest. His body glistening with sweat across his torso, and his wife beater being soaked allowing me to see through the silhouetted of his nipples and abs sitting right. This is it. Sadly the last of him I’ll see for the week. That is until after he washes himself off in the showers. I grabbed my mop and bucket and followed shortly after him. I peaked around the corner of the locker room to make sure he wasn’t there, I HAVE to get that rag. There he was, undressing him self, facing away from the entrance and all I see is his voluptuous ass just glistening with sweat carrying the stagnant fibers of muscle that compose his cobra back. His back and ass look better than me altogether. His hamstring harnessing a ripple effect every small step he took. He grabbed a towel from his bag and wrapped it around his waist, took some shampoo and headed towards the showers. The water started running and I slowly peaked again around the corner of the showers and I saw his curtain closed. Hell yes. I paced myself to the bench where his stuff was and there it is. Another filthy rag drenched in his nectar. Soaked to filth with all of his musk. Was I really doing this again? Here? Yes. I immediately shoved as much fabric as I could into my mouth and started sucking on his sweat as if I was dying of thirst. FUCK! His scent was so strong that every time I even exhaled I could still somehow smell it. A tent started pointing through my pants as my cock grew again. But fuck was my cock sore, I felt like I pumped every ounce of semen out and drained my balls. I fixed my eyes on his gym bag and looked beside it. Am I hallucinating? A jockstrap? Holy shit! The jock strap was soaked a color navy. I let go of the rag instantly and lifted the jockstrap with my finger. At an arms distance it was a sight to behold. A muscle king like him’s very essence was at my fingertips. I started feeling like the first time I held up the filthy rag. I brought the jock closer and closer. It felt too divine for me not to respect. I wafted the area around it…DAMN. It stunk so damn good. I mentally prepared myself for the taste, will it taste stronger than the rag or will it be just the same. My tongue welled up with saliva, shabbily sticking it out. Then the jockstrap hugged my tongue… HOLY FUCK!! Some people can’t live without the taste of a specific spice, but they have never tasted anything as good as this! It was like sea salt caramel pop corn by the beach, it was like sweet and sour sauce, it tasted like pineapple juice with some matcha tea. The taste is nothing like I’ve ever tasted. Just as I did the rag, I stuffed my nose and mouth with this essence, letting it course though my mind, my body getting filled with adrenaline. I don’t know if it’s possible to orally digest testosterone but if you could, you’d simply need to ingest this! If testosterone had a flavor, this is it! Thereafter, the shower stopped. Shit. I panicked and started making sure to put everything back to where it was. Fuck! Where was the jockstrap? Inside or outside? SHIT! I lifted the flap of the bag and threw it in there. Then the shower curtains rolled open. I paced towards the mop and bucket at the corner and started mopping and whistling…acting as casual as possible. In he walks, a trail of water droplets following his walk. He looks over at me and nods with a slight smile. Gosh he’s so fucking gorgeous! He’s not just a DILF, but a fucking Adonis. DILFs want HIM to fuck them! I started mopping towards the showers slowly trying to catch a glimpse of his cock making my way around. “You’d think I wouldn’t notice you messing with my shit?” I froze. What the fuck? “I remember exactly where I leave my stuff you fucking runt.” I stared directly down at the trail of droplets. Is this happening? “You think I wouldn’t notice you staring at me as I work out?” From the corner of my eye he turn his around facing in my direction. “Look at me.” With eyes quivering and jaw shaking, I slowly motion my head in his direction. And lo and behold, my eyes dart directly at his horse cock. The most mesmerizing shit I have ever seen. He was not erect at all and it was as thick as a can of soda and nearly as long as can of Pringles. “You like that shit don’t you?” I looked him in the eye with nothing to say. “Don’t you?” He repeated. I nodded. “I’ve noticed you staring. Mainly because you’re the only twat dumb enough to lounge around an empty gym staring at this muscle?” He’s right, why would I ever try if I there was no one else around to hide it from? “You went through my shit huh?” I nodded. “You wanna know how I know? I ALWYAS leave my jock out to dry during my shower.” Jock as in singular? Or is that with every workout? Hmmm. “I workout very early in the morning to avoid fags like you from staring at me during my workout. I come to destress from having all eyes on me yet here you are, cleaning up after me and drooling all over the floor every time you stare.” I looked down, I could not bare the fact that he was reading me to my core. Here I was thinking I was being careful yet I did not even have a poker face in this moment. “What’s your name fag?” “Noah,” I said. “Noah, huh?” I nodded. “How did it taste?” “What?” “How did it taste?” He repeated menacingly. “How did what taste?” “Don’t you give me that shit!” He pointed at me with his jock in his hand. “My jockstrap faggot, how did it taste?” “Uh-“ I stuttered, “ good sir!” I shamefully looked down. “Come here.” What the fuck. Shit. Was he going to sock me in the face? Fuck I might as well make a run for it. I slowly walked towards him in all of his naked glory. “Closer.” I stood 5 feet away from him. “Closerrrrrr.” My head was at chest level with him. “Look at me,” he said. I locked eyes with him. He quick grabbed the back of my neck and with his other hand shoved his jockstrap onto my face. “You wanted this huh? Why are you so stiff? Open your fucking mouth faggot.” I opened my mouth and the fabric piercers through with such more I started lathering it up with the saliva in my uvula. “Take it all in faggot you seemed to enjoy it with me not being here you better enjoy the fact that I’m feeding it to you. Open wider!” I started gagging as his fingers tickled the back of my throat. “Yes,” he snarked,”choke on that shit.” I started feeling light headed but fuck I must admit it was such a turn on. This muscle god force feeding me his very ball sweat. He stopped what he was doing and took the jock strap out of my mouth. I gasped for air, nearly hyperventilating. But ingesting his essence was better than breathing. “You liked that didn’t you?” I nodded and coughed. “Eyes up here fag!” I looked up. He hawked and spit on my face. “Enjoy it,” he grabbed my face and started guiding his saliva towards my mouth,” en-fucking-joy it!” The sweetest taste, not as entrancing but equally as horny. “Listen here fag,” he said. “No little shit goes through my stuff and gets away with it, do you understand?” I nodded. “Say yes sir you faggot!” “Yes,” I breathed,” sir!” “Good,” he smirked. “Now,” he continued,” next time I see you, you better be fucking ready to do this and more. You want to please me and feel this fucking muscle body?” “Yes sir,” I said. “Then be ready to lose all of your dignity before me because I will give you the domination of your fucking life, nothing else will feel as purposeful as this. I catch you going through my shit or let alone jerking it to me without my permission again, and I will make sure you know your place beneath me. Understood?” I nodded. “SAY YOU UNDERSTAND!,” he said. “Yes, I understand sir,” I said shakily. “Good,” he grabbed his bag and walked out,” see ya around, fag!”

Fuck Kyle. Fuck everything about him. Imagine promising a 10% raise to anyone willing to work the night shift, and not coming through with it? I can quit. That’ll leave him in shambles knowing his precious facility will look like shit cause no one reracks their weights let alone throw away any water bottles or rags they’ve used. I can quit. But I don’t want to. Sure the hours are shit, I hardly get the daytime to do anything aside from sleeping. There’s just nothing interesting happening in my life right now for me to risk being unemployed. You see it’d be easy to clean during the day and simply pick up after people when the gym is busy. But, Kyle says that it’s distracting to gym members when someone is constantly interrupting their workout…? Regardless, it pans out since hardly anyone works out during the ass crack of midnight. Only a small amount of people have decided to be crazy enough to get a work out in during the few weeks that I’ve started working night shift. But on other nights it’s me and the front desk worker who is 95% of the time just knocked out over the counter. Having to check in every time you enter the gym, I always just nod to the few that come in in approval once they see that she’s asleep. The speakers are blasting with music. My coworker is once again sleeping. I could do the same and fall asleep in my supply closet and clean up during my last hour before the day gets started but here I am wiping down dry sweat stains from workout machines. Usually the place is a mess but I guess people found the decency to clean up after themselves. The facility being in a suburban area has a repertoire of customers usually consisted of wanna be pro athlete high schoolers, the rarely occasional fitness influencer, cross fitters, powerlifters, or older people who let themselves go after having children. On night shifts however. Your small handful will consist of dedicated professional bodybuilders and beginners who start strong by aching their body before they eventually wear themselves out and give up. Usually the latter. I have witnessed so many people commence their journey yet fail after pushing it too far by coming to the gym during hours they’re not used to. On the flip side, you’ll have him. I see him come into the gym during the last few hours of my shift. Probably the only consistent early morning gym goer at this facility. And it shows. The early bird really does get the worm because for each day of the week he not only works out a specific muscle group but he uses EVERY piece of equipment we have for that muscle group to his advantage since no one is there for the taking. Mondays he starts off strong with legs. I witness him pressing thrice his weight over his shoulders and placing his ass to grass every single rep. Then using the entire midsection of the gym floor to lunge that same weight as if he was carrying a simple feather. His quads and ass double in size after it all. And I can easily tell which machine he heads to next because after each set, he leaves a trail of glorious sweat behind him on the floor and on each seat. I would know because I have to clean it. He sweats so much the one rag I use gets soaked just with his sweat alone. One morning after I was done cleaning after him, I was feeling a bit exhausted not trusting myself behind the wheel if drove home. They offer protein coffee at the snack bar but even then that shit tastes chalky. Even if I was too tired, I still did not want to risk losing this shitty job so I tried my best. After collecting all of my cleaning supplies I was dispensing the used rags into the laundry bin in my utility closet. HIS rag was just…sitting there. Amongst the pile of rags used, his stood out like a sore thumb. We’ll mainly because he is almost always the last gym goer before the full circuit day begins. You see most simple either wipe their forehead, hands, neck, or each equipment they use and will only leave it 1/10 as soaked as he does. And in that moment something over came my aura. Pure adrenaline started flowing through me. My hands reached out over the bin - shaking in awe. Was I really going to do this? Yes. I lifted the filthy rag to eye level. The mechanism of my hands imitating a claw in a prize machine. Slowly and surely I brought the prize closer to me. At just an arm’s distance the musk infiltrated the chamber of my nostrils, getting stronger and stronger. And then. Fabric to skin. I took a big whiff. FUCK. There are certain smells in life that are socially frowned upon but that people privately are enamored with such as the smell of diesel or a sharpie marker. THIS would be at the top of my fucking list. Sweat. But not just any sweat, it has to be specific. Like that hot athletic football player that passes by you after their game and it smells entrancing not like some random transient you’re sitting next to on the public transport. Wanting more, I dug in for seconds. With every volume in my lungs I soaked in the essence as much as I could. This isn’t a typical athlete’s sweat, this is fucking testosterone in liquid form. It was incredibly difficult to keep the filthy rag from being pressed up against my nose. Each time I think I’d had enough my instinct won over me and kept sniffing. Then it occurred to me. What the fuck was I doing? What if the next shift’s clean up caught me in the act? I had to get my shit together. I set the rag down back at the top of the pile. I reached up for the cabinet to get the detergent. Closing the cabinet door somehow, I jammed my thumb between the crack. A loud thud filled the room when I let go of the detergent. “Shit!” All of the solvent was spilled on the floor, fuck! Annoyed, I sucked on my jammed finger. And then. With no hesitation my tongue dance over the palm of my hand, lathering it up with my spit. Why the fuck does my hand taste good? It’s not like a savory or sweet type of taste. It was definitely a bit sour but the kind of sour that makes your throat tingle. The rag. OF COURSE!!! Holding the rag left remnants of sweat over my hands. I walked over to the bin and right where I left it I picked up the rag, this time with no hesitation. As if I was programmed or had it hardwired in me I brought the rag to my mouth. At an instance I immediately started sucking on the fabric. Oozing of sweat, rationing out the saliva in my mouth. The sensation of knowing it was HIS sweat that I was consuming directly traversed to my crotch. It was as if the substance consisted of pure sex drive, each intake driving me more and more into a state of heightened pleasure. A tent in my pants started forming. I had to let it out because it felt as if my cock grew twice the size that it normally is when erect. I pulled my cock out and watched it spring full out of my zipper like a toy Jack in the Box. Leaking from the tip was gooey precum that dripped down the side of my shaft. I looked back at the rag and thought ‘if just his sweat is making me do this, imagine the real thing?’ I continued to suffocate myself and stuffing the rag inside my mouth. Each second sucking on the justices in the fabric made the mixture of my saliva and sweat created a sensation in my mouth that left such a sweet aftertaste making me crave more and more. My hand held my cock, slowly wrapping itself up and down as I kept momentum. With each deep inhale and suck of the rag, I kept stroking harder and faster. I closed my eyes picturing all types of wrong. Him standing over me. Me kneeling with my mouth open and pointed up. Every drop of his sweat landing all over my tongue, coating it with the best flavor of all time. Him wiping his torso down, hands over his pit, then with a smirk showing his fingers down my throat. With that picture alone, the pent up frustration in my crotch made it’s exit through the tip of my cock. The slit of my cock oozing out ounces and ounces of the byproduct of his glorious sweat filling every crevice of my mouth. Once I was eased, I used the same rag to wipe off the cum from the floor, wiping away my shame. Because what the fuck was I doing? I don’t like men. I never once pictured jerking it to any guy before. I had to get out of there. My doubts on sexuality were cleared when I left my utility closet. Walking down the gym’s midsection with the same image every Monday morning, he lunged with his ass bulging a behemoth amount of weight. Fuck. Yeah. I realized for him? I definitely would abandon anyone else. *** Recalling this instance of pleasure. In comes in the muscle god of my dreams.

Toda historia tiene un principio y la de mi familia empezó por mi abuelo. mi papá siempre me dijo que el abuelo AWDREY le había legado la capacidad de eyacular ingentes cantidades de semen, como si la capacidad de almacenaje de sus cojones no conociera limites. Eso explicaba porqué yo mismo sentía la necesidad constante de eyacular. Con el tiempo, yo mismo tuve mis dos hijos y ambos heredaron este superpoder familiar, aunque actualmente lo conocemos como HIPERESPERMIA. lo que para otros seria un problema, en mi familia lo tomamos como un regalo que debía ser explotado al máximo y es por eso que hace un tiempo, mis hijos y yo hace ya un tiempo que nos hemos impuesto un tratamiento de inyección de testosterona, para potenciar y ampliar nuestra potencia sexual y nuestra masculinidad. Es algo que nos gusta hacer en familia, los tres juntos pero que por motivos obvios, no siempre podemos hacer. Por un lado, mi hijo mayor Alec, se encuentra en Miami trabajando vendiendo su cuerpo y por el otro, Nathan, el pequeño, compite a nivel internacional en gimnasia artística, aparte de estar cursando dos carreras universitarias al mismo tiempo y atender las demandas de su novio, también deportista de elite en otro deporte. nathan, compitiendo Después de investigar y preguntar a amigos de la familia, nos decidimos por los servicios del doctor VICO, el urólogo de l as estrellas, con consultas en Londres, miami y singapur. Las primeras veces las realizamos los tres juntos en Londres, pero obviamente ahora Alec sigue el tratamiento en miami, aunque una de nuestras exigencias siempre ha sido que sea el propio doctor VICO en persona quien nos atienda. sin más, empiezo a explicar un día de tratamiento con mi hijo Nathan. Nathan es un muchacho muy guapo de 19años, 5,81 pies, y 160,96 libras. su pecho mide 47,24 pulgadas y su cintura 31 pulgadas con una deliciosa de 8'5 pulgadas Sí. Es un tipo corpulento y muy ardiente. esculpido en mármol y en esta ocasión me acompaña el. Nathan sabe de los pervertidos gustos del Dr. VICO. Sabe que nuestro medico se humedece solo con nuestra simple presencia y como buen AWDREY se ha vestido en consecuencia. una simple camiseta encuello de V ajustada y unos jeans actuando como una segunda piel, derretirán al Dr. V dejando ver sin usar la imaginación su impresionante y enorme pectoral marcando pezones, su abdomen como cincelado en mármol y esos dos troncos que tiene como piernas sin olvidar los fantásticos bíceps y tríceps adornados con venas como cuerdas. el look de nathan en su visita al Dr. VICO [colores del diálogo>>Nathan/ Dr. V / YO detalles del texto] Después de un vuelo privado desde el aeropuerto de gran canaria directo a Heathrow, en Londres, nos dirigimos a Kennsington, el barrio más exclusivo de la ciudad, y donde se encuentra la clinica VICO - Señor Awdrey e hijo?. pueden pasar. - Hola sr. Awdrey, Luke, hola Nathan! - Hola dr. VICO. Nathan no puede evitar mirarse el reflejo de un espejo y se pavonea - Hola doctor, todo bien?. le doy fuerte la mano flexionando el biceps para agrandar más el brazo -Para... todo bien gracias señor!. Como va la competición Nathan? llevas dos semanas sin venir! - Lo se doctor, estuve en el campeonato del mundo de Malasia ... ya sabe, liderando, como no puede ser de otro modo - mi pequeño diosito se los comió a todos..! - sobretodo despues de la competición! no imagina doctor como gritaban de placer mis oponentes (flexiona sus biceps y se frota la) - No me extraña joven, eres un portento! al doctor VICO le resulta imposible disimular la admiracion por los musculos de Nathan - Si, lo soy . Empezamos?, tengo ganas ya de recibir mi dosis jejj - por supuesto muchacho, ya sabes que hi tienes la mampara para desn... Nathan no esta por la labor de esconderse y hace caso omiso. SE quita la camiseta con esfuerzo y lentamente, pues la llena completamente por la cantidad de grandes musculos que tiene y lo hace contoneando su cintura y mirandome de manera provocativa. yo lo miro con una sonrisa picara. Me gusta que provoque así. Nathan esta muy cerca del doctor y mientras se desnuda completamente el doctor mira, el no deja de adorarse, contonearse y sobar su cuerpo invitando al doctor a tocar lo que quiera de todos modos. - antes te inyectarte, debes tener el rabo en su máxima erección nathan, no sirve que estes semi erecto, por mucho que alcances asi las 6 pulgadas . - No es problema doctor. Nathan se agarra el rabo y mientras lo masajea coge con una mano un bote de lubricante y con el otro una bomba de vacío - ¿Puedo? pregunto yo tratando de agarrar el lubricante - Por favor papi! síi!, si el doctor permite... dice Nathan con voz picara. - Por favor, eso es digno de ver! abro el bote de lubricante y aplico un buen chorro directamente en la de mi hijo. la amaso un poco y unto el agujero de la bomba de vacío par introducirlo lentamente. entra perfectamente. - mmmmmmmmmmmm, que bien lo haces viejo! - espera de 5 a 10 seg antes de apretar el ON - mmmm que rico. Me queda bien el rabaco verdad papi? - Espera que lleguemos a casa, y lo sabras me acerco a Nathan y le como la boca jugando con nuestras lenguas. deborandolo todo -jejjejeje -uau Nathan se saca la bomba de vacío y amasa rico su recien erecta. Sugs 8cm se ven delicosos. Grande, dura, venosa, completamente depilada y bien jugosa. - Me encanta mi! papi acercame el lubricante, porfa - Aqui tienes. Nathan se aplica un buen chorro de lubricante y sigue jugando con su tranca A todo esto, el Dr. V se acerca con dos frascos de un liquido morado y un par de jeringuillas. - Ya esta todo listo. dice el doctor mientras se acaba de acomodar el segundo guante. - quieres elevarte tu, o me siento yo? - médico sientese El dr. VICO se sienta en un taburete y nathan se acerca dejando de margen unos pocos centimetros entre el rabo de mi hijo y la cara del doctor. Mientras me dispongo a ponerme detras de mi hijo quiero dejar que apoye su en mi paquete y adorarlo para que ese estado de relajacion alivie un poco el dolor tan intenso que va a sentirEmpiezo sobando el torso de nathan, sus increibles abdomindales fruto de su trabajo diario como gimnasta profesional y su pectoral para luego invitarle a que apoye su nuca en mi hombro mientras le lamo en el hombro y cuello - ¿Listo? ya sabes que la inyeccion duele mucho, y la tengo que hacer dos veces, una en cada huevo -Sí doctor, no se apure, este tipo de dolor en los cojones me pone muy cachondo, contesta nathan sumido en un estado de vicio que lo deja extasiado El doctor agarra los huevos mientras nathan agarra su rabazo bien duro y erecto e inyecta el primer frasco. al momento, un grito sumerge la consulta. Nathan grita en una mezcla de dolor y placer. en cuanto el doctor saca la aguja, le amasa bien el huevo sumandose a la adoracion que le estoy haciendo yo. unos 3 minutos despues el doctor le inyecta la segunda dosis, que simpre es la mas dolorosa pero que ayuda a aque en menos de 1 min, el principio activo haga efecto. a efetos de cambio físico Nathan no siente nada pero en su interior brota una fuerza que parece sobrenatural. agarra la cabeza del doctor y le clava su rabo duro hasta la garganta. me apresuro a dominar a la bestia, con un dildazo clavandoselo por el. - Como te encuentras Nathan? - Como un toro doctor! - si quieres despues de amasarte bien los huevos para que se asiente bien la inyeccion, toma ese masturbador y metelo dentro del potro para. es importante que desgargues. y así hace. Mientras el doctor se ocupa de mi, los tres gozamos con lo que ahi sucede. Nathan extasiado con su dosis de testosterona, el doctor viendo como padre e hijo se lo gozan y yo, en manos del doctor macizo mientras veo orgulloso como mi el pequeño de mis hijos, deja bien alto el apellido AWDREY

This story will contain some themes of incest. Please do not continue if that is disturbing to you. Chapter 1: I was driving up to my Uncle Ryan's house. At age 35 he was my dad's younger brother. I hadn't seen him in years, in fact, it was before Covid lockdowns. He lived in the opposite end of the state and often missed events due to his intense work schedule or from Covid outbreaks. He was my favorite family member growing up. Ryan was always the life of the family and I had missed not seeing him the past couple years. But now I was coming to live with him for a while. I was granted a partial scholarship to a university only a few minutes walk from Ryan's house. My uncle graciously opened his home to me so that I wouldn't have to take out loans. I eventually got to his house, pulled into his driveway and stepped out of my car to open my hatch. It was hot and humid in the early August sun. As soon as the trunk slid open I heard, in a deep resounding voice, "Hey Andrew! How's my favorite nephew doing!" I turned around and it was my Uncle Ryan. He was an extremely handsome man with a thick head of graying hair that was cut high and tight. Ryan also had a very short and trimmed beard that nicely accentuated some of the rounder features of his face. He was a taller man standing at 6'0" only a couple inches taller than myself. He kinda had a bloated stomach and love handles poking through his shirt, although his arms were bulky with a good bit of muscle, despite not having a ton of definition. He began to hug me tightly with a large layer of fat between us two. Uncle Ryan wasn't always like this. Growing up he really got into bodybuilding in high school and college and really packed on a lot of solid muscle. Family trips to the beach were always a treat when I got to see him without his shirt. Every year he grew more as his physique improved. His body was absolutely magnetic to me at the time and didn't understand. Growing up I jacked off to the thought of Ryan flexing his muscles for me, letting me feel him up. It's kind of embarrassing to admit but Ryan helped me to realize that I was gay. On top of that, he inspired me to pursue my own fitness goals. Since I graduated high school I had taken a year to work and save money, then a couple more years going to community college. All the while I signed up for a gym membership and dove into bodybuilding. I wasn't massive but at 5'10" and 170 pounds I felt that my body was quite respectable - at least that's what the sexual attention I got from men seemed to indicate. It was somewhat deflating to see Ryan hadn't been able to keep up with it. Being only 22 I was excited about how much room I had left to grow. "I'm so glad you made it Andrew! I'm excited to have somebody come stay with me for a while. Now, why don't I help you get your stuff into the house." Ryan said to me. I replied, "Sure, that'd be great. I didn't pack much since I knew you would have most of the furniture. I just brought clothes, electronics, and personal items." We both gathered the luggage and went inside his fairly large sized 3 Bed, 3 Bath home. Ryan lead me into a room that was fairly empty - only a bed, a dresser, a night stand, and a desk and chair - that had an in-suit bath attached to it. "Here's where you'll be staying, Andrew. Please, make yourself at home. You're going to be living here for the next few years, so no need to act like a stranger. All my Wi-Fi and streaming passwords are on the fridge." "Hey, thanks Uncle Ryan again for letting me stay here with you. You don't understand how much this means to me!" "No worries, man. I love having you over. Now I am going to go to the store to get stuff to make meals for the week. Do you need me to get you anything?" "I think I should be fine, Uncle Ryan. I just need to spend sometime putting away all my stuff and getting settled, but thanks." "Alright, sounds good. I will leave you to it then! I am running some other errands so I will be back in a couple hours." After Ryan had left to go the store, I really began to unpack all of my belongings. I hung my shirts up in the closet, put my other clothes away in the dresser. I also brought with me my supplements that I had been taking and protein powder. Looking the the bag I found a huge box of hundreds of little packets of powder that I had bought from a mutual acquaintance. They are supposed to be stirred into water to drink. He swore up and down that they're perfect for losing fat and gaining muscle fast. This dude was huge and he came with a good recommendation. I had bought them last week and had been using them but they didn't quite seem to be working all that well for me. It was disappointing to say the least, especially because of how expensive the box was. I gathered all of it and put it on the kitchen island to ask Ryan where I could store them when he got home. I went to Ryan's massive living room and sat down on the comfortable sectional couch and turned on the television. It was so nice to be out of my parents house for a while, even if it was my uncle's house. I suddenly was filled with excitement for this new chapter in my life - I'm finally getting out of my hometown! [...] "Hey Andrew! Dinners ready!" Ryan called out from the kitchen. I came out of my room to join him there. I saw that he had already set the table and made me a plate - it was grilled chicken and sautéed vegetables. Simple, yet it looked absolutely fabulous. I sat down at the table with Ryan and we began digging in. "I saw all those supplements you had on the kitchen table, Andrew. Looks like you're really getting into bodybuilding. Look at how big those arms are!" He said taking a glance at my biceps that were showing ever so slightly through my shirt sleeves. I blushed ever so slightly and replied saying,"That means a lot coming from you, Uncle Ryan. You know you were the one that inspired me to get into working out?" "Really now?" Andrew replied with a surprised tone in his voice, "Well, it's somewhat of a shame that I haven't kept up with it these past few years. Work has really taken over my life since covid began. I am hiring some new people to take off a lot of stuff off my plate but now I have really just lost the motivation to keep it up. I even have a garage full of gym equipment that I don't use anymore. Maybe you can put it to good use?" "I'd be glad to!" I said, I was going to look for a place to workout but now I don't even have to step out of the house. "Great, now excuse me. I gotta use the restroom. I'll be right back." Ryan got out of his chair and walked to the hallway bathroom and shut the door. Across from me I could see his food and a large glass of water. I looked over to my supplements on the counter. I got up and walked over to them and grabbed some of the powder that dissolves in water. The powder wasn't doing much for me but maybe it would help Ryan to at least feel more energized. I ripped off the top and poured it into his water. Frankly, I don't think he'd notice. The powder really doesn't have much of a taste to it and it dissolves quickly. I heard him flush and begin to wash his hands. I hurriedly threw away the packet and sat back down at my seat. Ryan almost immediately opened the door and came back in to the kitchen. He sat down and took a big gulp of water, sitting his glass down. He made no mention of the water or any odd taste or smell. Both of us sat at the table and caught up for hours and hours. It was so enjoyable to spend time with Uncle Ryan again. He was personable and carried great conversation. Having started dinner at 6:30 it was nearly 10:00 by the time we had to call it quits. Ryan had to go to work tomorrow - it was going to be a dreaded Monday. My classes won't start for another week or so, so I just made plans to explore the town and campus a little bit. I helped him to clean up - I noticed he drank all of his water. I don't know how much of it would help but I was intent to keep slipping him some every day I could. [...] The next morning I got up about 6:30 to go workout in the garage. Before getting there I hear a loud grunting sound. I opened the door and there it was Uncle Ryan curling some heavy weights in front of a mirror he'd hung up on the wall. He was wearing a gray shirt that was large on him and absolutely soaked with sweat. His hair was a messed and matted down with tons of sweat. I couldn't tell if it was the workout but here certainly looked pumped and slimmer than he did yesterday. He saw me come in, as he placed the weights back on a rack and sat down on a bench. He turned my way, "Good morning, Andrew. Sorry I'm taking up your time in here. I just woke up this morning and felt this desire to pump a little iron, something I hadn't felt in a while." "Oh, that's no problem Uncle Ryan. In fact, I wouldn't mind if we worked out together. I think it'd be a good motivation tool. Do you need me to get you some water?" "That would be great, Andrew. I have a big bottle of water in the fridge I carry with me throughout the day. I usually fill it up before I go to bed. Could your bring that to me," he replied between huffs of trying to get some air. I went inside to the kitchen to get his water. Of course, I picked up another packet and put it in there. I could sense it was working well for my uncle. I took him his water as he began to slowly down it. I absolutely knew that both he and I were in store for some great times ahead.

Here is a link to the previous chapters: Chapter 1-8 I wanted to restart another thread to have more control over the thread itself. Chapter 9: Zach and Aaron walked into the lifeguard tower interior, both their hard dicks rubbing up against their suits. They both laid their items by the door. The sunlight beating through the tinted glass windows. The shadows cast onto each of their muscles perfectly, helping to highlight muscle hidden by Aaron's slight layer of bulky fat. "Wow, you look even better in here!" exclaimed Zach, walking closer to Aaron. He noticed that he was towering over him. Aaron must have been no larger than 5'6" but his bulky muscles made him look a fair bit larger. His buzzed brown hair was neat, deep brown eyes, flawless young skin, and sexy smile "That's awfully humble of you." Aaron said with a teethy grin, as Zach began to hit his double bicep pose again. Aaron began to rub Zach's bulging arms, as Zach let out soft grunts. Zach loved that he was the object of another man's muscle lust. He enjoyed watching Aaron drool over his ripped body. He liked how Aaron's strong fingers nicely squeezed his buff arms. "Now, tell me where do you get these bulky muscles from?" inquired Zach as he let his arms down. Aaron's arms had a nice bulk to them that made them look absolutely massive. Not to mention Aaron's legs were extremely large in comparison to the rest of his body. "Well, I'll be a senior in college this next year and I play rugby for my school. I work out when I can." "Well that explains the legs." Zach said grabbing Aaron's strong thighs, rubbing them softly . "They feel so powerful." "Emmm, yeah. They're my favorite muscles of mine. Can't skip leg day!" Zach continued to rub and squeeze Aaron's thighs. While Aaron closed his eyes, smiling. Zach got really close to Aaron's face. "Do you remember me from yesterday?" Aaron began to get a little red in the face. No one ever wants to forget someone they've been introduced to before, "Uh, I can't say that I do. You look very familiar but I don't believe I've met you before now." "Remember the two meat heads you made arm wrestle yesterday? The one's you videotaped so you could jack off to it when you got home? I was the scrawny one with them." Zach replied calmly. "What!? It can't be. The guy with them was just as handsome but much smaller than you." Aaron retorted. "Yeah, I've grown a lot since then but that was me yesterday. I can't say I didn't feel a little jealous with you giving my dad and his friend all the attention." "Hopefully you'll forgive me for that. You gotta admit those two take the air out of the room for everyone else. But I gotta ask. How did you get so big in a day? I've seen some dudes explode after a cycle but nothing like this?" Aaron replied inquisitively. " Well, that's why I came here to see you today. I wanted to get a little attention from your hot little self and to show you how I grew." Zach said walking over to his bag, pouring out four pills, and grabbing his bottle of water. "Here you go, Aaron. Take a couple of these. I promise you won't regret it at all." Aaron felt a little suspicious of taking random pills from someone he barely knew but his curiosity had certainly been peaked. He'd really gotten serious about upping his workouts recently in addition to his sports. There wasn't any doubt that he wanted to be absolutely huge and impossibly strong. "Uh, I'm not sure. It seems like they work but I'd like you to take a dose yourself since it seems pretty fast-acting . Maybe I will try it then." Zach smiled, "Wise decision. I'd hoped you would say that." as he popped a couple in mouth, leaving the rest upon the table, and chased them down with his water. The effects of the pills were instantenous as Zach's body began to respond well to the pills. He instantly felt the familiar, orgasmic rush alongside with extreme heat and twitching within his muscles. He started loudly moaning and groaning as he could feel an ever so slight expansion of his muscles. Aaron watched at this reaction, as his dick immediately stood in attention again. He was saw Zach's back slowly growing and definition being added to ever single muscle on his body. Aaron knew that he immediately needed to take some of these pills as he greedily snatched the pills remaining on the table. He likewise took a swig of water and quickly swallowed the pills. "Emm. I see that. UGH. You've decided to. Oooh, yeah. Join me." stated Zach through pleasurable grunts and groans. Aaron had a similar set of effects on his short, bulky body. He felt woozy as his eyes rolled up into his head with intense pleasure. However, a distinct burning sensation began to happen all around his body. The mixture of pain and pleasure was nearly too much to handle. "Oh, yeah. It hurts sooooo good." Aaron said as the pleasure and pain increased to insane levels. This comment was somewhat strange to Zach as he hadn't ever had severe feelings of pain other than some sorenes afterwards. It seemed Aaron didn't care too much about it. "Look at how big you're growing, Zach. Look at those nipples being pushed down by your growing chest muscles." Aaron said through cycling bouts of pain and pleasure. Zach looked down to see his pecs growing, beginning to block his view of his lower body. As he looked up he saw Aaron growing - fast. Much faster than Zach's dad, Brett, and even himself. Aaron's whole body was rapidly expanding on his small stature. It was immediately clear that he was a hyper-responder to the drug, as he began to expand in every direction. "Yes, I feel so fucking powerful." Aaron growled. The most notable change in Aaron's body is that he was growing more than just muscle. His stomach began to distent growing into a hard turtle-shell stomach. He had a well-defined set of abs sitting atop a strong, knotted stomach. His pecs swelled up into pillows as they perked up with huge mounds of muscle. His arms were quickly being pushed away as a result, they were likewise growing. They had a nice layer of fat on top of the clearly large muscles that made his arms look even larger. He could feel his feet sliding away from his body as his quads filled out his swimming trunks, pushing up the hems farther and farther up his leg. Aaron looked down past his pecs and saw his thighs roping up with muscle and veins, while his calves grew into wide diamonds. By the end he must have easily grew to 320 pounds of bloated muscle - much more than any other individuals growth thus far. A dusting of hair appeared on Aaron's body while his face grew a short beard that fit handsomely on his sexy face. All the while Aaron was in absolute ecstasy. Zach himself had completely forgotten about his own growth as he focused exclusively on Aaron's inhuman growth. "Emmm. Look at how big I got. That was only one dose and I'm already way bigger than you, Zach." as he threw his head in the air. Aaron began feeling up his enormous muscle gut, while his swim suit rode up into a small bundle around his fat cock. "Look at my sexy muscle gut. I can't believe it took so little time for one to develop. Imagine how many years of roiding I'd have to do to get a turtle shell like this." Zach just stood in disbelief as this short stud turned into a magnificent muscle bear. He was so turned on seeing him rubbing his huge gut knowing he'd been the one who gave it to him. "Now come here and suck me off." commanded Aaron as he shimmied his suit down his legs. He was glad he decided to wear his spandex one's today, hoping that he'd be able to put them back on afterwards. Aaron proceeded to lay on the table, spreading his legs wide to give Zach room. Zach did exactly as commanded as he stood above his huge body laying on the table. Aaron's fat cock exposed, standing straight up. Zach gently placed his mouth over Aaron's dick as he began to slide his lips up to his dripping mushroom head down to the base. All the while he tried to look into Aaron's eyes, but couldn't due to the fact that they had been completely obscured by his behemoth pecs. Zach put it hands on his thick, muscular stomach and rubbed up and down upon it. Feeling the powerful midsection as it was rapidly rising up and down. Aaron groaned as he curved his back from the pure power and pleasure he got from having a sexy, muscle bound man suck him off. He continued laying on his back and began to run his big pillowy pecs. "Yeah, rub that muscle gut. Doesn't it feel so knotty and manly?" Zach just moaned in approval as he began to methodically lick the precum from Aaron's thick head. Aaron slowly lifted himself up to situp straight on the table. His stomach lightly pushed into Zach's head, as kept rubbing his hands up in down to a beat following his mouth. He slowly began to pet Zach's head to encourage him to keep going. Zach was giving him by far the best blowjob he'd ever had. Eventually, Zach removed his mouth from his dick and pulled down his trunks. He then began to rub his own dick up against Aaron's. They were both roughly the same "10 but Aaron's was slightly more girthy. "Oh, god this feels so right. I've never seen someone grow as much as you from one dose, I didn't even know it was possible. Everything about you is so powerful, and being so young you only have room to get bigger and bigger and BIGGER." Zach cried out. "Yes, I want to get so big. I want my whole body to turn in nothing but big, bulky muscle. Imagine how big and hard my gut could get. Maybe my quads can follow suit. I'd love to see them grow so large that I can't even touch my feet together. Oh, that would be fucking perfect." In that moment Aaron took his quads and pushed them onto Zach's body, pushing him on top of his dick. Zach couldn't move out of the prison Aaron's quads had made, they were far too powerful. Aaron picked Zach up with his impossibly powerful quads and began to quickly rub Zach's dick against his own. Zach shouted, "Aaron, I think I'm close. I so fucking close to busting my load. Please, don't stop." as he held onto Aaron's quads. Aaron moaned out, "please bust your load all over my abs. I want your cum all over my BIG stomach." Zach and Aaron almost immediately began to cum volley after volley of hot cum. Both of their loads mixing onto Aaron's big belly running into crevices between his abs. As both began to calm down from intense experience Aaron spoke saying, "look at me. Look at what you've done to me. Look how big and sexy you've made me." "Trust me I don't want to look away." Zach said panting. Eventually, Zach started packing all of his stuff away and to head back to the house. Aaron spoke up, still heavily breathing on the edge of the table, "will I get to see you again? That was the best sex of my life!" Zach smiled, "of course, dude. Let me give you my address, we're staying at the house just behind this tower. Come see me when you get off work." Zach quickly trudged back to the beach house, hoping his suit wouldn't burst into pieces.

Hello all, long time guest, first time writer. I am typing this out on my phone and don't have access to a computer, so I apologize if it seems a little bit choppy. This part will mostly be set up, with much more action in the next chapters. Any feedback would be helpful. Chapter 1 It was an early mid summer morning as Zach was nearing his home. He had just graduated college and spent the remainder of his lease at school before returning back home. Zach had found a position near home, and to celebrate his dad wanted to taken him on a beach trip before starting work. Thankfully, he has already sold away most of his apartment furnishings leaving Zach with only a few things to stuff in his hatchback. Meanwhile, Mark was eagerly waiting for his sons arrival at home. At 45, Mark was 5'11, had short, conservative, grey hair, naturally broad shoulders, soft blue-eyes, and a strong jawline. He'd always been in good shape but spent a lot of time building muscle while his son was away at college. Mark started partly because of how much of a hole Zach not being at home left for him. Mark thought a lot of Zach and wanted to spend more time with him and was elated that his son would be returning home. As Zach pulled in and got out of the car, Mark went out to greet him. "Welcome home son!" as he walked over and tightly hugged Zach. As Zach was being squeezed by his father he remembered how much his father had been growing. He felt his dad's bulging arms, and massive chest against him. He'd always admired his dad and wanted to be just like him - successful, happy, great father, and as of recently... Muscle freak. Zach had many of his dad's physical characteristics, was 6'0 with a similarly conservative blonde haircut, blue eyes, and square jaw. Zach had a fairly athletic build he got from his father - a nice built chest, strong frame, and flat stomach but was nowhere near his dad's size. "Wow, dad! It seems like every time I see you, you've packed on some more muscle. How big are you now? " Mark replied, "Oh, around 240 now," he said with a grin, lifting up his arms to flex. Grunting, his biceps balled up into huge baseball sized lumps, his tight t-shirt riding up on his frame to reveal his lower abs and showing a nicely outline of his massive pecs. "I can't believe how big I'm getting. Brett's really helped me these past few years." Brett was the next door neighbor. When Zach went into college, Mark decided to befriend Brett who was into bodybuilding. He was 34, 5'9, had dark-brown hair, hazel eyes, a charming all-American man, and was truly massive around 275 pounds of lean muscle mass. "By the way I forgot to tell you," Mark stated, "your mom went away with some of her friends on a cruise. She wanted us to have a vacation for the men, so invitied Brett along if that's fine." Zach's cock twitched a little when he had heard this. Zach always knew that he was gay but Brett certainly confirmed it for him. Zach loved muscle beasts. Honestly, Zach wasn't sure where the envy stopped and the attraction began, especially when it came to Brett. Zach was always excited when Brett came around. In fact, he remembered the first time he saw Brett. He was outside doing yardwork and stopped to talk to his dad. Zach saw him from the kitchen window, as he stopped and stared at Brett. He was shirtless with sweat glistening over his perfectly sculpted body, leaning up against a shovel. His pecs and arms were pumped and red from all the activity and his abs were like perfect columns holding up the rest of his body. Zach started to get a little flushed in the face thinking about it. "Son, is that fine?" As Zach snapped back into reality, "Uh, oh, yeah. That's perfect!" "Great, I'll help you get your stuff inside. We're leaving as soon as your ready," as Mark picked up some of Zach's tote bags and his muscular biceps bulging. Soon thereafter Zach had everything put away and already packed his bags to leave for the beach. He put his suitcase back into his dad's SUV and not too long after Brett came out of his house with suitcases in hand followed by Mark. "Hey, man!?" Brett called out to Zach as he approached, "long time no see." Brett was wearing a black t-shirt that was hanging on for dear life. His traps were pushing out of top. The shirt was so tight around his chest you could see the ruffles as a sign it was being stretched to the breaking point. His biceps pushed the sleeves up his arm so that they were nearing his shoulder. He was also wearing some khaki shorts that were completely filled up with his quads and left very little to the imagination. "Hey, Brett. I'm doing well, I hope you are?" Zach gulped and became nervous, realizing he answered a question that wasn't asked of him. How was he going to keep calm this whole week in the presence of his buff dad and hot neighbor. "Doing well, excited for this beach trip. I finally going to show off my summer body a bit!" as Brett smiled, "seems like you and your dad are ready to show yours as well!" Zach blushed while simultaneously feeling a little self-conscious. He had certainly kept fit in college but really didn't have an aim of getting huge due to studying all the time. "Well, I'm not as big as you and dad" "No worries, Zach. Look how big your dad got at his age, you still got plenty of time." said Brett as he put his luggage into the trunk. "Hey Brett, sorry to butt in but did you make sure to get that Grey suitcase" "Yep, I already put it in the back in a safe spot. " "Great, thanks for getting that for me! " Zach was perplexed as to what might be in the suitcase, and why it was so important to his dad. Zach quickly moved on as his dad and Brett were hopping in the car. Zach got in the front seat with his dad who spilled over into his seat, and Brett was sitting in the middle bench with the seat belt snugly between his pecs. It was going to take a lot to get these two of Zach's mind, as he wisely placed a pillow over his hardening cock. After a 6 hour car ride we had finally made it to our destination. My dad had booked a large ocean-front house in the Outer Banks of North Carolina for us to stay in. It was a beautiful house painted a light blue. Mark slowly pulled forward into the parking underneath the wooden deck of the home. As we got out to stretch our stiff muscles, the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore were all around and the wind blew fiercely. Zach took a glance at his dad. His taut muscles pushing up against his t-shirt as he brought his arms into the air to stretch. His face had a five-o-clock shadow on it. Zach tried to make it seem like he wasn't staring but it was hard to not notice how intently his eyes followed his dad's swollen muscles. Then as Brett was stretching he noticed himself in the window of the car. He hadn't noticed how big he really was getting. He stopped and started flexing into the car window. He flexed his biceps as his sleeves pushed up, and started popping his pecs up and down. His shirt felt so good on him. Tight everywhere. God, he felt so powerful in the moment. Both Mark and Zach tried hard to not let him see that they were staring at him doing this. Everyone carried their luggage up the stairs as Mark put in the code for the lock. The house was decorated in a mix of light pastel blues and white. The kitchen and living room were open with a staircase pushed up near the doors to the balcony on the other end of the kitchen. Brett spoke up after examining the house, "I'm ready to go to the beach. I haven't seen the ocean in so long! I don't care what you guys do but I'm going down now." "Hold up, big guy. We'll go with you. Let's get situated first." replied Mark, "Zach, if you want you can take one of the rooms upstairs and Brett and myself will take the downstairs. That way you can have your own space." "Thanks dad. That sounds like a plan to me," Zach said as he started to climb the stairs. He found the largest room with a queen sized bed and stripped down to put on his bathing suit. Meanwhile, Brett came into Mark's room. Both were shirtless and had their bathing suits on. They both caught each other staring, as they often had in moments like these. Brett saw Mark remembering how small he used to be. Now, standing before him, was a man with a body men half his age would only dream of. He couldn't believe how progressively hotter Mark had become. Mark wasn't as large as himself but his handsome face and lean muscled body just completely turned him on. Likewise, Mark thought about how truly massive Brett had become. How his abs had slowly turned from a 6-pack to mountainous 8-pack abs. His back had grown so wide that he barely fit any clothes that he wore. He'd never seen anyone nearly as big Brett and he craved how big Brett was making him. "Hey - uh - Mark, I have that suitcase with Zach's present here." "Great let's keep it here with me. I can't wait to give it to him," as Mark smiled slyly, "It'll be a dream come true for more than just him." They quickly gathered in the living room when they heard Zach coming down. Zach saw the two muscle gods standing in the living room with just their thigh length swimming suits. Both of them clearly had been working their bodies and losing fat for this trip. Mark and Brett muscles were ripped and were as hard as rock. Their waists were thin and were laughably small compared to their broad backs and huge shoulders. Zach had to carry a towel around his waist just to keep his hard on from showing. He felt so small compared to them. "Great, you're down. Let's go before we lose too much daylight!" said Mark They all set up their chairs at the beach near the water but not without attention. People all around us were staring at Mark, Brett . Groups of women and men would come up to Mark and Brett and take pictures with them. It was easy to tell by their rock hard bulges they enjoyed the attention. After the crowds subsided the group finally were able to take time just to relax and enjoy themselves. They sunbathed, read, and make small talk amongst themselves. Not to mention the occasional glances they would give one another. Eventually, Mark went back in to order pizza for dinner and to have some moments to himself. Meanwhile, Zach and Brett went out to the water to mess around in the waves. "You know, your dad's a good guy. I'm glad we've become friends since you've been away at college. He's really missed you being around," said Brett to Zach. "I'm glad you've been there for him. You've certainly done a great job with him physically." "Certainly. He's responded to the training so well. Although, it doesn't seem like your mom is very appreciative of the mass he's put on." "I think he's looks great. I hope he continues to grow more and more. I hope you do too." Zach stared at Brett's pecs the whole time as the water ran off of them after each wave. "You know I've seen you staring at methe whole time." breaking Zach of his gaze "Oh no, uh, I'm not staring at you, uhm, now..." Zach fumbled "Not just now, ever since we've met I've seen you looking me. I'm not going to lie and say I didn't like it. A young man looking up to me, wanting what I have. So go on, take a feel. I know you want to..."

Part 1 I had graduated from art school a few months ago, but was still working as a barista at a coffee shop. Finding work as an artist was tough, so I had to keep working that crappy job until I could find something better. To take my mind off of that, I went to the gym to workout. Even though I didn’t know that much about lifting weights, I did what I could to build muscle. I always admired (and lusted after) huge muscle guys, wondering how they got so big. I had an athletic build, but my body was extremely small compared to those guys. I always wished I could be as big as them. When I hit the gym floor, I noticed two massively built older guys doing the bench press together. They were both wearing string tanks, tight shorts, weight belts and training shoes. They looked like they were 6 feet tall and weighed 280 pounds each and about 50 years old. Both were ruggedly handsome, one bald with a beard, the other with short dark hair and a mustache. And both their cocks were showing in those tight shorts underneath large muscle guts. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them as they took turns lifting the bar, loaded with four plates on each side. One grunted out rep after rep, while the other one encouraged him to keep going. They would slap each other on the chest after each set. “Good job, man! Looking pumped!” I could see their dicks harden and grew during the set. I moved to a flat bench next to them and hoped to get a better look while I worked my chest. I put 45-pound weights on each side of the bar and tried to get to ten reps. After a few, I started to struggle. “Hey little man, need some help?” I heard a deep voice ask. I looked up and saw a bald, bearded face staring down at me above a pair of massive pecs and a huge bulge. “Um, sure,” I responded. He put his hands under the bar, helping to guide it as I continued to push up and down. “There you go, keep pushing. Stay in form. That’s it.” His encouraging words helped me through the set, as I finished out the full ten reps. I sat up and turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, that was helpful.” He smiled back. “No problem. Do you want me to spot you for the rest of your set?” “Oh, I don’t want to interrupt your workout with your friend over there.” I motioned over to the other daddy, who was talking on his phone and adjusting his cock. “Oh, he has to take care of some business, so it’s all good.” “Ok, sure!” I got excited that this huge muscle daddy was helping me workout and I started to pop a boner in my sweats. I laid back down on the bench, hoping he didn’t notice my hardon. I started my next set and he guided me through it. His deep voice calmed me as I focused on lifting the bar up and down. The weight didn’t feel as heavy now. I did two more sets, feeling pumped at the end. “Good job! You got a nice pump from that!” He exclaimed, looking down at my pecs. I blushed, still feeling tiny compared to him. I looked down and caught his dick moving in his shorts. “Yeah, good job!” said the mustached daddy, who walked over, or waddled more accurately. His dick bounced as he moved. “Thanks. I’m pretty new to working out, so I’m still trying to learn the ropes.” I smiled sheepishly. They both exchanged glances. The bearded daddy said, “You want to work out with us? We can show you a few things. We have been doing this for awhile.” He raised his arm, flexed his thick bicep and laughed. My cock hardened immediately. “Sure!” I said, surprised at the invitation. They both slapped me on the back and chuckled. “Good! I’m Terrell and this is Tony.” Both reached out their meaty hands to shake my much smaller one. My cock quivered at their touch. “I’m Josh. Nice to meet you.” They led me over to a cable machine and set the weight up. I followed their instructions as they taught me proper form and technique. Hearing their deep voices tell me what do while working out my chest turned me on so much. I had to keep adjusting myself so my hardon wasn’t visible. But as the workout went on, the more intense it got and I soon forgot all about that and just focused on lifting weights. All I could hear were their voices telling me what to do as my pecs pushed themselves to the limit. By the end, my chest felt destroyed, but totally pumped. “Great workout, Josh. You really killed it!” Terrell said patting me on my chest with his giant hand. “Yeah, I’m impressed,” Tony remarked, also patting me on my chest. “Really?” I was practically out of breath and completely drenched in sweat. They were both covered in sweat and their pecs had swelled even more from the workout. I felt like a toothpick standing next to them. They were so wide and thick, packed with dense, veiny muscle. Every time they moved, their muscles twitched. I felt light headed being surrounded by so much muscle. I bent over to catch my breath. “You ok, Josh?” Tony asked. “Yeah, but I think that workout killed me, though.” Both laughed. “Good, that way you know it’s working!” He slapped me on the back. “We gotta run, but you wanna work out with us again sometime?” I looked stunned. Why were these muscle gods so willing to help me? “Um, yeah, I’d love to!” “Cool. How about you meet us here tomorrow at the same time?” “Ok, see you then!” I wiped sweat from my face. “Make sure to eat plenty of food today and get lots of sleep. You don’t want to waste those gains!” Then Tony reached into his duffle bag and pulled out some pills. “Oh, and take these supplements, they will help you recover from the brutal workout today. We want you nice and rested for the torture we’re going to put you through tomorrow! Haha!” I laughed nervously with him. “See you tomorrow, Josh!” said Terrell, patting me on my bubble butt while he and Tony waddled out of the gym. I was stunned. I felt so lucky that those two muscle daddies trained me. And they were going to train me again! I eagerly popped the pills that they gave me and washed them down with water. I went home, ate a ton, and then went to bed early, dreaming of those two muscle daddies. Part 2 The next day I bolted out of work and ran straight to the gym. As soon as I walked in the door, I saw Tony and Terrell standing at the front desk, looking massive. I got hard instantly. I hoped I could make it through the workout without embarrassing myself. They smiled and waved at me. “Ready for your next training session?” Terrell asked while putting his meaty hand on my shoulder. My dick twitched from his touch. “Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to it!” “Good! And it looks like you kept that chest pump from yesterday!” Tony beamed as he put his hand on my pecs. My dick twitched again. I was in heaven. Terrell handed me some more pills and a bottle of liquid. “Before we begin, take these supplements and pre-workout. They’ll help you get a better workout and pump.” I happily swallowed the pills and washed them down with the drink. I could feel my body already getting pumped. “Good boy,” he said while patting me on my ass. We made our way to gym floor and started my training session. They stood on either side of me as I lifted, correcting my form as I went. Once again, their deep voices lulled me into a trance, my mind focusing only on lifting weight. I could feel my muscles swelling as the weight and intensity increased. Before I knew it, I had finished the session. My back and biceps were on fire. “Great job, Josh! Your back is looking yoked!” exclaimed Tony from behind me while putting his hands all over my back. He moved closer and I could feel a bulge press slightly into my backside. “Fuck, man, your guns are looking big!” cried Terrell from the front. “Let’s see them. Give us a double bi!” Hesitantly, I raised both my arms and flexed. They had never felt so swollen before. His eyes lit up as he moved closer to feel them. “Thatta boy!” he said squeezing my arms while gently pressing his pecs and bulge into me. I waivered and felt like I was about to pass out. “Easy there, Josh! You ok?” Terrell released my arms and held me by my waist. “Yeah, just a little wiped out from the workout.” I wiped the pouring sweat from my forehead. “Looks like you need to eat. Wanna grab a bite to eat with us?” Tony asked. “Uh, sure,” I replied, still unsteady from the intense workout. “I gotta shower first, though.” “No problem. We’ll wait for you by the front desk.” He patted me on my ass as I headed to the locker room. I quickly showered and got dressed. I was half expecting them to be gone when I came out, but there they were, still looking massive. I couldn’t believe my luck. We headed down the block to a small restaurant and found a booth to sit in. I sat on one side where Terrell joined me. Tony sat across from us. Both guys were so big, they couldn’t fit on one side together. Even with my much smaller build, Terrell still crowded me as his large arms sat against mine. My dick pitched a tent in my pants. After we perused the menu, the waiter came over and his eyes widened as he looked at Tony and Terrell. I could see his dick move in his pants. “Um, what’ll you guys have?” Looking at the menu, Terrell ordered. “I’ll have the whole chicken, two orders of rice, and two orders of steamed broccoli.” I gulped at the thought of eating that much food in one sitting. Tony chimed in, “Yeah, I’ll have the same.” “Wow, you guys are hungry!” the waiter marveled. “Well, you gotta eat to get big,” boasted Tony as he flexed a bicep. The waiter balked at the size of Tony’s arm. Then the waiter turned to look at me. “Um, I guess I’ll have…” Terrell interrupted. “Why don’t you start him out with half of what we ordered, and we’ll go from there.” I looked stunned. Why did he order for me? “All right, I’ll bring it out when it’s ready!” He turned and went to the kitchen, adjusting his pants along the way. I was about to speak up, when Terrell turned to me, his big, brown eyes boring a hole through me as he spoke. “I didn’t want you to lose any of the gains you made today, so I ordered you the best and healthiest option here. I hope you don’t mind?” All resistance faded in me as he said that. “I don’t mind. You know what’s best for building muscle,” I acquiesced. He smiled and patted my leg. “Good boy.” Tony rested his elbows on the table and leaned in, his arms flexing as he did so. “You did great today Josh. We think you have the potential to get big. That is, if you want to.” “Yeah, I do. I’ve always wanted to be big. But I’ve never been able to grow past a certain point.” “We can help you if you like. We’ve been looking for a boy to train and you have the determination, seriousness, and looks that we require. Would you like us to train you?” His arms flexed some more. My cock hardened and shifted in my pants. “Yeah, I’d love that, but I can’t afford trainers right now. I’m just a barista at a coffee shop!” They both laughed. “No, we don’t want your money! But, there are some things we would require from you.” The muscles on his big arms rippled, from his forearms to the top of his delts. I got a little lightheaded. “Like what?” I was excited about the prospect of training with them all the time and getting bigger. Terrell chimed in. “Well, you would have to do everything that we tell you to do. But, you’ve already proven that you can take direction, so that’s good.” He squeezed my leg with his hand, grazing the hardon in my pants as he did so. “And we would need to monitor your bodybuilding progress closely. Like making sure you eat and sleep enough, that you’re taking the right supplements, and taking proper care of your body.” I got even harder hearing Terrell say those words. I had always wanted someone to train me and make me bigger. “So that would require you moving in with us. We have a large brownstone where you would have your own room and privacy. It’s not that far from here.” My mouth dropped open. They wanted me to move in with them? I just met them yesterday! “Um, wow, that’s a lot to take in. I don’t know…” Tony reached under the table and grabbed my leg. “You can think about it. But we would pay for everything: room and board, food, and supplements. All you have to do is workout, cook and prep food, and grow. You wouldn’t have to work. We just want to make sure you grow as big as possible.” They were both looking at me and I didn’t know what to say. Could I just uproot my life and move in with these guys? But the idea was awfully tempting. I hated my job, I lived in a crappy apartment with a lousy roommate, and I always wanted to be big. Plus, I would get to spend time with two incredibly hot muscle daddies! “You know what, that actually sounds great to me. I’ll do it!” They both cheered. “Perfect, we can head over to our place right after we eat!” Terrell said just as the food arrived. We all dug in and happily devoured our meals. Part 3 is below

Back in college, I was just beginning to discover my sexuality, and anonymous hookup apps were my vehicle of exploration. However, I was exceptionally shy, so I rarely ever messaged other guys and was even less likely to actually find a hook up. But this story is about a time where I was lucky enough to have an encounter that surpassed my wildest fantasies! Hope you enjoy. At the time, I was a 20year old kid who was just starting to come out of a twink phase. I played a lot of club sports and was starting to get lean and toned. I was 5’10, 170lbs and had a slim athletic body. My abs were visible and I almost could make out a 6-pack. My arms were on the scrawny side, but they were lean and vascular. My legs were by far the most developed muscle group. I had vascular quads and calves, and my ass was a smooth, toned, perky bubble. Although I was in better shape physically than most of my peers, I was used to seeing exceptionally toned muscle bodies on my teammates and the himbos I found at the gym. In comparison I always felt like I was lacking, and was insecure about my physique. One day after a rowing practice, I decided to create a profile on “Jack’d”. I was literally in the backseat of my teammates car riding back to my dorm room from the lake. I added a few locker room selfies to my profile and began looking for hot headless torsos to ogle over. After a brief second of scanning the app, my eyes were drawn to one profile in particular. I selected a profile of a muscular black man. This guy looked like my ultimate fantasy! I’m super into big, muscular bodybuilding types, and this guy far surpassed my expectations. He was wearing a white tank top and his massive pecs were stretching the fabric. His huge biceps and broad shoulders were vascular and looked rock solid. Lower down, he was wearing red boxer briefs and he has thick tree trunk thighs. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I drooled over this hot muscle stud. His name was “Big Red” and his bio read that he was a 45 year old muscle daddy “looking for fun.” I sent him my typical pickup line. “Hey!” He didn’t respond after a few minutes, so I assumed he wasn’t interested, and I continued scrolling through the app, but none of the other guys came close to how sexy Big Red was. When I finally got back to my dorm, my cock was throbbing. I eagerly jerked off to Big Red’s profile picture and happily shot a big load as I fantasize about worshipping his godly muscles. The next day, I’m sitting in a Statistics lecture when I get a notification. He messaged me back on Jack’d! My dick immediate became hard and all hopes of concentrating in class were lost. He complimented my body, saying that I was just his type. I was petrified with anxiety. This gorgeous muscle stud just told me that I turned him on! My lust for him is what drove me to carry on a conversation with him. By the end of class, he asked to meet up at his place. At that moment I froze up. Unsure of how to respond, I slipped my phone away and left class. As I walked to my dorm, a couple more notifications popped up. He sent pics! First he sent a face pic. He was a very handsome man, looked much younger than 45. And he had a head full of dead locks. The second pic was a zoomed out version of his profile. His hair was tied up in a man bun, and you could see his entire body down to his aesthetic bare feet. “Trade pics?” He messaged me. I scrambled to take a few close up shots of my ass. Twisting to find an angle that seductively showed the curves of my ass. I sent another one with a close up on my hole. Making sure it was nice and oiled up. “Damn baby boy! You gonna let daddy stretch that sweet hole?” His last picture was another close up of his torso. This time shirtless. He wasn’t at a ridiculously low body fat percentage like Mr. Olympia, but he had a clearly defined six pack! He also had a sexy v-taper that trailed down to accentuate his meaty cock. It was an impressive dick that looked to be 6 inches or so, and I was eager to taste it. “Please pound my ass daddy!” He sent me his address and I frantically cleaned up in the showers. I was super paranoid about accidents happening, so I douched multiple times. After I felt clean enough, I hopped in my car and made the journey to him. The entire ride, I couldn’t tell which sensation was stronger, the butterflies in my stomach, or the raging hard on in my pants. I finally arrived at his house and my ass twitched in anticipation. I took a couple deep breaths and knocked on the door. Big Red answered with a huge smile on his face. “Wow baby, you’re looking even better in person. Come on in!” I blushed and walked inside his house. He led me to the kitchen and we started making small talk. “You want some weed?” He offered, taking out a small ziplock bag a quarter full with some green substance I was unfamiliar with. “No thank you, I don’t smoke.” I said still blushing. “Awe you’re cute. That’s probably why you got into college.” He walked around the corner and tenderly grabbed my hand. “Come here” he said, gently pulling me towards him. I willingly let him pull me into a strong embrace. I was a hair taller, but he was clearly the more dominant one as I could feel his bulky muscles even through his sweatshirt. My cock twitched as he wrapped his arms around by body and squeezed me tight. “Wow!” I said, I initially flinching in his arms. Shocked at how hard his body felt. “What’s wrong he asked?” He pulled back to look me in the eye, a wrinkle of concern spread across his forehead. “Sorry, your just so muscular!” I somehow managed to reply. I was constantly struggling to breathe as his imposing presence was breathtaking. He grinned back at me. “Oh you like that huh?” He said with a cocky laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m a gentle giant…” he paused and winked at me. “Unless you want me to to get rough that is.” I nervously laughed. I was too busy desperately taking in his clothed muscle body to respond. My eyes traced how his arms filled his sweatshirt. How his pecs nicely stretched the fabric. Eventually he suggested we sit outside on his deck and talk a bit. He grabbed a couple of beers and started some basic small talk. Throughout our conversation, I just couldn’t take my eyes off his body. I imagined his solid muscles pumped and bulging with thick vascular veins popping out. My eyes were hungrily lusting over his body. Suddenly out of nowhere, he flexed his bicep. “So you like muscles?” He flashed a cocky grin. “I try to stay pretty fit, why don’t we check out my home gym?” “Sure!” I replied, and eagerly followed him to his garage. Heavy weights lined one of the walls and in the center was a pull up bar and bench press. Big Red walked over to the dumbbells and swiftly removed his sweat shirt. I loudly took a deep breath in admiration of the muscles bound daddy in front of me. His biceps had to be 18 or 19 inches. And his body looked even better than his pictures. He grabbed one of the largest dumbbells and started curling them. Veins popping as he start to get a slight pump. “My favorite thing to do is to lift these 50 pound dumbbells. I try to hit them everyday.” He looked at me with his cocky grin as he lifted the weight, then gave me a seductive wink. After he got a good pump, he walked closer to me and hit a double bicep pose. “Go ahead. Give it a little feel.” I happily obliged, tracing my fingers over his pumped muscles. Squeezing his arms to feel just how solid they were. “Now it’s my turn,” Big Red said after a few minutes of me worshiping his arms and chest. He sat on his weight bench, and grabbed my hips. His strong hands felt up my thighs and squeezed by bubble butt. “Holy shit, you’re a sexy mother fucker!” I proudly smiled and wiggled my ass in his face. He bit his lip as he slid down my pants and underwear. He hungrily kissed all over my bare ass. Then he spread my cheeks and buried his tongue in my hole. I threw my head back and moaned in pleasure. And gently pushed back to feel his tongue deeper inside me. He took a minute to gasp for air, and my hole twitched, desperate for more of his attention. “God damn” He growled. “Your sexy ass got daddy all worked up. Look what you do to me. Fuck!” He grabbed my by the hips again and turned me around to face him. Then he pulled me to my knees and spread his legs wide. I noticed a sizable bulge in his sweatpants and smiled sweetly at him. “Let me take care of that for you.” He leaned back and pushed his hips towards me. I reached out to his crotch and felt his cock. “OH…MY…GOD!” I whispered. I couldn’t believe what I felt. Not only was his dick hard as a steel rod, it was the most massive cock I’ve ever felt. Much larger than anything in my wildest dreams. I hadn’t even seen his monster, but my face showed all of the fear and apprehension I had about shoving that thing in my tight hole. Big Red chuckled and sensually stroked my cheek. “You’re not that surprises are you? You had to know I was packing.” I looked up to meet his gaze. “You’re like twice as big as your picture!” I whispered, still in shocking disbelief that what felt like a large water bottle was this man’s actual penis. He leaned down to kiss my forehead. “That’s because I wasn’t even hard. Your sweet ass made me unleash the beast!” He pulled down his sweatpants, and his massive hard on sprung out, his heavy balls bouncing in front of my face. Instinctively, I puckered my lips to kiss the head of his cock. He was cut, and throbbing with desire. Not only was he long, but he was thick! My lips barely wrapped around him and I struggled to fit even the tip inside my mouth. How the hell was I supposed to fit him inside my very tight, very inexperienced ass!?!? “Take your time baby.” He moaned, daddy will take great care of you.” He softly grabbed the back of my head and slowly pushed more of his dick down my throat. Blissful tears rolled down my cheeks as I struggled and gagged on merely the first couple inches of his cock. He immediately pulled out. “I’m not hurting you am I?” Big Red asked with genuine concern. “No, it’s just so big. I don’t know if I can handle it.” He smiled sweetly at me. Looking into his eyes, I could see how proud he was of his endowment. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow. Daddy’s gonna give you the best fuck of your life.” I opened my mouth wide and gripped his humongous cock with my lips. He slowly leaned his hips into my face. I tried as hard as I could but he was so thick, I could only manage to get halfway down his shaft.. I pulled back and started kissing all the way down his shaft until my face was buried in his pubes. Then I worked my way back to the tip, licking and sucking all around that glorious dick. When I took him in my mouth again, I grabbed the base of his cock with one hand. My fingers literally couldn’t wrap around him because it was so thick. I stroked him as I sucked the tip of his cock. He was super hard, and it made me crave him even more. I moaned and yelped passionately as I started bobbing my head up and down, sucking that thick dick like my life depended on it. After a few moments, he pushed me off of his cock and pulled me in for a kiss. I immediately grabbed his thick shoulders and jumped onto his lap. My legs wrapped around his waist and I tightly pressed my body against him. He wrapped those strong, thick arm around me. He started to slowly grind his hips and that massive cock slid snuggly between my ass cheeks. My own dick responded by leaking precum. We stayed like this for a few minutes before he brought his lips to my ear. “Come on baby boy. Let’s take this to the bed room.” He grabbed my ass cheeks and stood up. He effortlessly carried me through his house until we reached the bedroom. He kissed some more before leaning me over the side of the bed. I felt his glorious tongue sink into me again. The pleasure filled sensation made me moan loudly and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My ass started gyrating uncontrollably and I was ready take his monstrous dick. Big Red laughed and pushed me up on the bed. He laid on top me. That hard muscle body pressing its weight against me felt so hot while he slid his dick against my ass. He kissed my neck and began to whisper in my. “You gonna let daddy take care of you?” He lifted his hips and thrusted hard. His rock hard, fat cock making a loud smack against my ass. “Yes daddy please!” I moaned. “I want you to stretch my tight ass. Please fuck me daddy!” He continued to tease me for a while. Pressing the head of his cock right up against my hole. My body quaked with anticipation, and I practically begged him to take me right there. He reached over to the night stand and began to lube my hole and then his dick. I didn’t even care that he was going in raw, I just knew that I wanted to be claimed by his magnificent cock! He lined himself against my hole and gave my ass a smack before pressing his cock into me. I was too tight for him, so he took a few minutes to stretch me with his fingers. I clenched down hard around him and my hole twitched each time he added a finger. Once he was able to shove four of them inside me he leaned to to kiss my cheek. “I think you’re ready for daddy now.” At this point, I could barely form words. I was sweaty all over and desperate to fell his monster cock stretch me even more. He managed to slide the tip of his cock inside, and I let out a loud and long moan. He continued pressing onward. Slowly adding inch after inch into me. Occasionally, the pain was too much to bare, and he I’d pull away from him. Big Red was patient and gently stroked the back of my neck until I was ready take more of him. By the time he was halfway buried in my hole. He started to make gentle strokes, each one going deeper and deeper. Despite the pain of being stretched further than I could imagine, it felt amazing being filled by a hot muscle stud. After a while, I finally felt his pubes on my ass and with one last stroke he grunted sensually as he pressed his hips against my bubble butt. I finally made it to the promised land, where his thick cock filled my hole, throbbing with pure lust. He stayed buried inside me for awhile, kissing the back of my neck as I adjusted to him. Filled with lust and pure desire for this muscle daddy, I started pushing my ass back to signal I was ready to get fucked. He then raised up into a plank position. I held on to his thick forearms and he started assaulting my ass with slow deep strokes. Gradually they became harder and faster until he was fully pounding me deep. I started screaming out in unintelligible sounds of pleasure. His entire bed buckled under his powerful body slamming into me. “Hell yeah! Take daddy’s big dick! That’s it boy!” He encouraged me to submit to his powerful dick, and I was absolutely enjoying the ride. Suddenly, my cock responded by shooting a stream of cum onto the bed and below me (The only hands free cumshot I ever had!) I writhed wildly. As Big Red stated pounding me harder and harder, his grunts increased in volume as well. Once he reached his climax, he pulled out and sprayed his seed all over my ass and back. I even felt a few drops hit the back of my neck. He slapped his heavy cock against my ass to let out the last few drops. “Man I fucked the shit out of you!” He squeezed my ass one last time before getting up to go to the rest room. He returned with a wash cloth to clean up the mess he made. After he finished we cuddled together in his bed. “So how was it he asked?” I grinned at him and playfully tapped his muscular quad. “It was okay I guess!” He squeezed my asa with one of his big hands. “Bullshit, come on! The way you were screaming and all the noises you were making I know it was better than just okay.” I laughed and placed my hand on his chest. “Okay. It was the best fuck I’ve had in my life.” He smiled at me, proud of his conquest. I spent a few more minutes in his arms, making out with him, before I reluctantly got up and put my clothes on to leave. He reached out to me for a few more hookups but I was so shy and self conscious, I ended up just ghosting him. One of the biggest regrets of my life. I’ve never had a dick that big again in my life. And I definitely have yet to get fucked by another big muscle stud like that. And now I’m spoiled by unrealistic expectations of good sex.

Power tastes like shadows I thought I would never return to this building ever again, I figured that I would be off on to my next job by now. But for some reason, the pool of jobs available had dried up. So, when my old boss Bernard Thornton called and offered me some kind of special job, I figured that I would humor him. Especially cents I had nothing better to do, and the way he made it sound so mysterious piqued my curiosity. Mr. Thornton seemed pretty okay, but I do not think he was the kind of guy who would go out of his way to help his employees. Still, he was a fair employer so hearing him out wouldn’t be a problem. Having thought about that I made my way towards one of the reception areas on the first floor. The building had white walls, grayish floor tiles, and the traditional white light panels and the light bulbs; complemented with comfortable-looking chairs with wooden frames and red cushions. Walking up to the receptionist I asked if Bernard Thornton was available? “Your name?” she asked with a smile. “Oh, my name is Tom Blackburn,” I answered her. “Okay, he should be available in 15 minutes,” she said while typing on her computer. “He should be on the fourth floor. There should be a second reception hall there,” she says as she hands me a card. “Taking this guest card, it should let you past through security without any issues.” She says with a smile. “Just. show this to the receptionist and they will show you the way.” I say my goodbyes and thank her for her service, as I quickly make my way to the elevator hitting the button to the four-floor. I was decently familiar with the layout of this building so when I got off of the elevator I knew where to go. Only stopping when I noticed that the sign that said reception area was covered up and had a new direction written all over it. Following these new directions, I found myself entering the role of cubicles where the back of the occupants could be seen. There is next to the door was another person sitting on the desk with the word receptionist plastered all over it. I didn’t recognize him and in return, he probably didn’t recognize me from the time I worked here. “Hey, my name is Tom Blackburn and I have an appointment with Mr. Thornton,” I said to the man. “Okay Mr. Blackburn let me check his schedule,” the receptionist man said. A couple of clicks later and a slight grimace on his face told me that something was wrong. “Okay Mr. Blackburn I have some bad news is that your meeting with Mr. Thornton moved to a different time it had been moved by one hour. Sorry about this last-minute change. I can have it be changed if you want to a new day,” he asked. “Oh, it’s fine, I can wait an hour. Do you know why his schedule had changed,” I asked? “I don’t know some blonde guy in a trenchcoat said he needed to talk to Mr. Thornton badly. he even showed me some kind of badge.” He said, shaking his head in confusion as if he had cobwebs in it. I sat down on a chair, sadly the only available ones were the plastic chairs with metal legs. I sat for 10 minutes on my phone playing Pan-Pan, when curiosity got the better of me. “Hey, do you know what happened to the reception room on this floor?” I asked the receptionist man. For a second, I figured he wouldn’t answer me. “I actually don’t know. When I was moved here, I was told that the room was destroyed and that it was being repaired.” He said while typing away on his computer. I wonder how it was destroyed I thought to myself. But then I felt it a strange feeling, a strange taste on the tip of my tongue, a headache coming on as if two points of my head were trying to push out. Maybe just maybe I could have headed out and done something like maybe ordered some lunch or something. I looked at the receptionist about to get up and ask him…. My tongue tasted of thick shadows as I began to watch the receptionist grow. It was like slow-motion as I watched him begin to fill out his shirt. I saw how his muscles began to fill out then stand out against his clothing. He started loosening up his tie against his thickening neck. Then I blinked but he was still growing, about to tear apart his own clothes with his growth, so I closed my eyes and waited a minute. Telling myself that this wasn’t happening and felt the taste of shadows slowly fade away. I opened my eyes again and the receptionist was still muscular, but he wasn’t growing anymore. His eyes moved from his computer to me. “Do you need something?” the man asked in a deeper voice. “Oh no uuu... Do you exercise?” I asked in desperation. “Well yeah, I do. You don’t get these gains from nothing. The job came with nice health benefits and a free gym membership,” he said proudly flexing a little until one of his shirt buns pop out. “Oops, not again,” he whispers to himself as his face turns red from embarrassment. Something was going on, but I didn’t know what it was. Then that feeling hit me again the taste of shadows and I looked immediately away from the receptionist into one of the cubicles. I couldn’t completely see the man thanks his office chair, but I somehow knew that he was growing. The man’s shoulders began widening and stretching out against his shirt, which was increasingly shrinking against the man’s growing body. Sounds of tearing could be heard as the man’s clothes lost against the growth of his muscles revealing his huge biceps and sculpted back muscles. I blinked and the man has clothed again with the same work shirt just bigger to fit his new huge body. But he was still growing so I decided to look away and close my eyes. Waiting for the taste of shadows to disappear and the strangeness to end. It was then I noticed the strange feeling in my pants, between my legs, and it was my cock, and it was hard. Embarrassment flow through me as I try to keep a level head in this strange turbulent situation. I kept breathing in and out trying to keep the thoughts of the growing men from my mind. “Mr. Blackburn, Bernard Thornton is ready to see you now,” The receptionist said. I looked up in surprise the taste of shadows no longer on my lips. “He is?” I said as I looked at the clock. Time really does fly when you’re beefing up people, I thought to myself as I made my way to Mr. Thornton’s office, after confirming with the receptionist on its location. I probably should cancel the meeting with Mr. Thornton, but I’m already committed, and I don’t like my time being wasted and hate to do it to others. What was so important that he couldn’t say on the phone. I opened the door to his office and saw the man sitting on his chair writing notes on his desk. Bernard Thornton was a small man with a jelly belly which he hides well with his suit. Shorthair's clean-shaven face, weak chin, big round glasses, surprisingly jolly cheeks, and a smile that made everyone feel better, which he hides with a 24-hour neutral expression. an average boss with the potential to be more and a business that had the potential to be more. “Hello Mr. Blackburn, it seems that you are interested in my job offer,” he said in a jolly time. “Normally I wouldn’t have come with the lack of information about the job, but I have nothing better at the moment and I was quite curious about it,” I said honestly. He looked at me with his usual piercing eyes, but I noticed that something was off. They seemed a little off not focused like they were slowly fogging up. “Well Mr. Blackburn I believe LS Waste Disposal could use your services; it will be a similar job that you had with us. They are looking to hire people with similar expertise, and they want to keep this job on the down-low; But they did tell me enough to make a sales pitch to you,” he said and said and said as the conversation continued. I knew I should be paying attention, but I was kind of bored and annoyed. The LS Waste Disposal was shifty as hell; one of my friends said a few weeks before he disappeared. So, if I knew it was the LS Waste Disposal company, I would have never indulged in the idea of coming. Thornton was talking about some of the benefits of the job when I felt and tasted the shadows. Apart from me didn’t really want to change Mr. Thornton while the other part felt it would be very interesting. I watched as Mr. Thornton’s body began to change. First, his jelly belly flattens out, and then his chest expands out. Then his pecs began to expand and rise like bread dough, as his now flat belly begins ballooning out towards the world as one by one abs begin to appear, rising and barely noticeable against his shirt. Then his shoulders began to expand with muscle as the growth spread to his arms slowly filling out his shirt sleeves. So far, his muscular body was contained by his office suit but no longer with the sounds of ripping and tearing the heavily muscled body underneath was revealed as Mr. Thornton’s began growing out of his clothes. He continues to talk not noticing with every breath he destroys his own suit. Eventually, his clothes fall off of his huge chest, as he subconsciously begins removing the torn cloth with his now huge muscular arms. Mr. Thornton began adjusting his tie, loosening it up against his growing bull’s neck. Not even noticing when his big hand began scratching at his newly growing scruff. He probably would have grown even more if it had not been for the fact that his chair broke sending him to the floor. I blinked and Mr. Thornton has clothed again the same clothes only bigger to fit his new body. The taste of shadows disappeared, and I move to help him up. “Are you okay Mr. Thornton,” I asked with genuine concern. “I’m okay,” he said to me as I helped lift him up. “I swore I got the new chair today,” he mumbled to himself. “Thank you, Mr. Thornton. I know you’re going to think that this is superstitious but I’m going to take it as a sign from the universe and decline the job offer. Sorry but I do not think it’s the job for me,” I said. Mr. Thornton grip was stronger than the first time I met him, and I was barely able to lift him off the ground with his new weight. The meeting soon to an end and I was starting to feel, sick and exhausted and I need to go to the bathroom all the same time. I was familiar with this building’s layout which had made it quite easy to head to the restroom, So, I thought. As I began feeling sicker and more drained every second as I made my way to the restroom. The lights became brighter and brighter as my head throbbed were new waves of agony, thump, thump the drums in my head are screaming louder and louder. The next thing I knew I was puking in the restroom stall. The taste of shadows well on my lip as a puked out a dark substance into the mouth of the hungry toilet stall. I… I could feel the shadows inside me, boiling and moving inside me like a living being. I waited for it to calm down, wondering what the hell is going on. Is this, this power inside me, is it the reason why my parents put me up for adoption? Am I a freak of nature, beefing up man until they explode or something? Home, I…I need to go home before something else happens. I found my strength, flush the toilet, and began making my way to the sink to get some water, before making my way back home. The water felt like heaven and tasted of shade as I rinse my mouth out. I took a few sips of water before making my way out of the restroom. But it was then I noticed the man blocking the way to the door of the restaurant. The man had short blonde hair was average in height, a face, and had a body of an action hero with cold blue eyes. He was wearing a trenchcoat with blue jeans and a black shirt holding a katana in his right hand. The man had a smirk on his face as if he caught his prey. “Well, that was anti-climactic. No blood, no destruction, no screams of terror I was expecting a person tied to the dark to do more, instead I find you here puking your guts out. Quite abnormal, an illusions type, maybe, you have the shocked look of a beginner; but I didn’t hear screaming or confusion shout of coming from the other people. You could be a necromancer but you’re not showing the signs of raising the dead, but you may have talked to some spirits. By how pale your face has gotten you probably had talked to some spirits,” The man said. The man began slowly walking towards me, as he monologues. “If you were experienced with your dark power, you wouldn’t have let me interfere with your power pool. This means that you are inexperienced or this is your awakening. One less potential servant of the dark bastion in one less foe to face for the light sanctuary. Now die dark one!” He said with glee. “Wait is it because I’m black,” I asked? “What un no!” he said in confusion and annoyance. At this point, he was a couple of feet away from me which made it easy to kick him in the balls while he was distracted. He roared out in pain but rather than crumbling down, he became angry and began to attack with his sword. I backed away unable to pass him without getting cut to ribbons. Eventually hitting the restroom wall as I ran out of room to maneuver. By looking at the man’s rage-filled eyes I knew that he was going to kill me with no hesitation. With one last powerful slash at me, he committed to the killing blow, and I knew that I cannot dodge left or right, but I could duck letting my ass hit the floor, as a sword was gunning for my head. Rather than hearing the sword bouncing off the wall instead it dug in and got stuck. I quickly realized I wouldn’t be able to get crawl through his legs or past them in time to escape before he pulled the sword out of the wall. I began to taste shadows on top of my tongue, and I began to focus on the man before me. I figured if I could make the man's crotch grow to ridiculous size, he would have a hard time chasing after me and be a suitable distraction for my escape. For the first time, I felt some kind of resistance like it wasn’t taking hold. The man laughed a cruel laugh as he said, “Your dark powers don’t work on me, servant of the dark. My magical items protect me from your dark powers.” I felt the taste of shadows with my tongue in the form of exhaustion hit me. Dammit, I thought to myself I had never tested to see if the powers work on me. Then I felt something deeper darker and more malevolent boil from within me. A hunger that was so primal that it had to be fed. Then I smelt it, fear but not for me but from him. “By the light, Demon blood!” The man screamed out in fear. “Fuck! No wonder your abnormal.” I… I could sense the light in him, so self-righteous, so arrogant and so petty; I wanted to devour it, consume it no I needed it. I felt my canines sharpen as the taste of shadows and infernal fire poured from my mouth. The man began backing off forgetting his sword as fear had claimed his heart. “Boo!” I say in a deepening voice. The man flinches and trips and falls onto the restroom floor, and like a beast, I pounce on him. I grinned as I realize the tables had turned and now, I was on top. But what to do him I wondered? Then a thought hit me my original plan to deal with him. I wonder how much he can grow before he exploded; And as I thought about the plan, I was already acting on it. Waves of pleasure began bombarding my prey causing his screams to become moans of pleasure as I opened up his pants. His cock was hard and already leaking cum as I dove in and began to suck on it. Every second I was devouring it he grew slowly at first, but he grew, nonetheless. I felt as his pants became tight, I heard as his shoes popped off against his growing feet; And how the sounds of tearing fabric as his clothes began submitting to his growing bulk. Second, by second his shaft grew wider and longer, and yet I was able to handle it. More and more I felt his growing balls against my chin as his power and soul gathered there. I stopped to see the results of my work. He was now huge and naked his growth completely destroying his clothes. He had huge tree trunk thighs, huge bowling ball biceps, hands big enough to grab a man’s face whole, a row eight pack abs over a huge muscle gut, round pillow-like pecs, and Boulder-like shoulders on a wide barrel-like chest. The man was drooling all over his stubble jaw as pleasure encircle him. Nearly glazed eyes both hungered and feared for more pleasure which I was happy to give. I resume sucking on his huge cock which was now like a third limb on him. The sweet, delicious taste of his life-filled cum was delectable as I consumed it; Every second I did I could feel his memories were fading away, then his personality, and then instinct as I saw the light fade from his eyes. Then within one instant, the lights in his eyes came back and with a bellowing roar from his throat. A geyser of cum shot from his huge cock and as it did, I drink all of it as if my life depended on it. The man slowly became colder as he began to deflate like a balloon, as I was drinking all of his life force. I drink until his balls were gone, I drink until all that was left was skin and bones and I drink until evening that was gone relishing every second of it. I felt the shadows inside me grow with even more might after my feeding. I felt myself growing in power both physically and mentally. I somehow knew that my body was going to change now and that I should try to remove my clothes. I quickly removed my shoes and tie before my body began to change, But my other clothes were not so lucky. a feeling of both hot and cold passed through my body as I felt my clothes becoming tighter against my body grew. I felt my bones pop and stretch as they began lengthening, growing, and changing. I felt a strange pressure come from the back of my spine and two more on my head. My pants were really starting to become uncomfortable, especially with the strange pressure coming from my back near my ass. I felt the tips hands and feet change is nails became sharper. A quick look at the restroom mirror revealed to me that I was growing two horns and that my eyes were now the color gold that was surrounded by black. My… My pecs were huge and growing before my eyes I would have been in disbelief if I hadn’t seen other people grow today, but I want to have a closer look, so I grabbed my shirt and ripped it off my swelling body as easy as tearing apart paper. The pieces of fabric fell to the floor as I began grouping my pecs. Then I began feeling abs, a nice eight pack to compliment my pillow like pecs. Throughout my body growth, my skin was darkening which was both concerning and exhilarating. I started flexing my biceps watching them and my lower arms grow with every flex. I was no longer in a building in the middle of town now I was here and now watching myself change into perfection into something more. My chest was widening, as my shoulders grew with the strength of mountains. Then I felt a pressure near my ass, and it was becoming unbearable as it pressed against my pants; grabbing the back of my pants I attempted to pull it down, but it got stuck against my thick meaty ass and I ripped it apart destroying my belt in the process. I sighed in relief as I felt a part of myself was free. I turned around to see something swaying around and I grabbed it to find that I had a forked tail, it was still growing and dark as the night. The remains of my pants were losing the battle against my body as more holes start opening up against the seams. Didn’t know how to flex using my legs by began trying, finding the idea of flexing them off to be exhilarating. When the pants were holding on to me by a thread, I yanked them revealing my tree trunk-like thighs and, my huge meaty calves. The only thing on was my destroyed socks and my boxer briefs which were straining against my heavily muscled body and my now huge cock and balls. just think my package was pretty average this morning and now my cock is a mouthwatering 10-inch hard monster in my balls are like two crab apples in a sack. I tore off the remains of my undergarment, and like a Jack-in-the-Box my cock shot out, a display for the whole world to sees if I wasn’t in a restroom. If I thought my transformation was over itching that spread through my skin told me otherwise. The hair on my head and any other hair on my body began falling off my black skin, to my dismay. Looking at the mirror again I saw my face and it had changed. I had two 3-inch white horns pointing upwards, pointy ears and I open my mouth I noticed my teeth were sharper, especially my canines. My facial features had changed to become more masculine and devilish. Then I felt the itching again as a new silver hair began spreading all over my body starting from the bellybutton the growth spring all out words all over my body to my huge meaty pecs to my arms and legs even spreading toward my huge back and ass. Sadly, when it reached my head all I got was a beard and mustache combo and thick bushy eyebrows. Damn, I’m a sexy daddy demon I thought to myself with a grin. If I wasn’t flexing my huge muscles I probably would have been panicking at the whole situation, but I was high on adrenaline and ego and I was horny as hell. I headed to the urinal with my big hard cock leaking pre-cum on the way there. I began feeding my horny desires and started stroking my cock, letting the stresses of today out. Thoughts of heading to Mr. Thornton office and turning him into my sexy buff thrall and having him lure other office workers into my thralled; watching those the weak, the scrawny, the fat, and average transform into big dumb thralls was extremely sexy to me. Sexy enough for me to come and shoot my load into the restroom urinal. I panted for a second thick orgasm so mind-blowing so exhilarating. But I was still horny, still hungry, and eager to try out these new powers. Then I felt it a disturbance, a disturbance of… Something? Then a dark rift opened up and a huge man came through. He was wearing a well-fitted black suit which hugged his body and showed off his huge form. He had long black hair tied up into a ponytail, stubble on his handsome face, and dark eyes that both men and women find alluring. “Well, that was quite entertaining. You hand self pretty well for a newbie. I was afraid I would have to intervene but to be honest I probably should have,” the new man said. “Who are you?” I said with my new deeper voice. “Oh, where are my manners you may call me Logan. And I was sent here to take care of Darren Mcpherson the one you killed. I must be honest with you I kind of didn’t care if he killed you. I was just sent here to take him in. But you had killed him save me a lot of trouble. Who would expect a dark sorcerer to have fiendish blood?” He says sarcastically. “No wonder why they sent me, I always have to deal with the idiots. That might explain why they didn’t order me to save you. Between you and me that’s all I can guess on the council’s part. Now what to do with you? We can’t have you walking out of here like that. But I need your permission to teleport you to my Citadel are could just knock you out and then teleport you to my Citadel. Know what I have an idea.” He said as inspiration hit him. The destroyed pieces of my clothes began reforming and fusing with the remains of Darren’s clothes to form something new, and in a flash, I was clothed in a strange combination. The man looked pleased with himself. “I think I’ll have a representative talk to you and explain a little bit more details of what’s going on. If the researchers and the recruiters are right, then you are a dark sorcerer with fiendish blood; Whose blood was activated when you ran out of normal magical power. Now take these,” he said as he hands over several items to me. “The bracelet will suppress your fiendish blood along you to walk among the normal people; and as a bonus help hides from those who have ill will towards you or agents of the light from checking you. While letting me and those who serve the dark bastion be able to find you. The other is my business card with my number; call me if you need anything, but do not abuse it. And finally, a brochure this is a law of information for you but trust me to read the brochure explains the basics. Now go home and don’t take any other stops unless you have to. All the things that were in your pockets are now in the right pocket of your new jacket, and on your left are the spoils of your victory. I gave it a 30-minute lock so that you would be tempted to open it up in this building,” he said as a dark rift opened up. He turned around and walked through it leaving me horny and with more questions than answers. I decided to take his advice and placed on the bracelet and decided to head home. It’s been a long exciting, frightening, and horny day.

The Onyx Heart The darkness was cold and silent. Michael couldn’t see anything past the tip of his nose. He was scared, looking frantically for anything to grasp on inside the void. “Michael? Is that you?” A familiar voice echoed through the black infinity, calling up for Michael. He started running desperately towards its direction. He felt his heart was going to burst out of his chest, as he fought his way through the nothingness looking for the source of the voice. “Michael, help me! I can’t take it! Please…! Make it stop…”, echoed the voice, slowly fading away. “No! Don’t go! I’m trying, I swear I’m trying…”, said Michael desperately, forcing his weak legs to propel him forward. Suddenly, a sharp pain enveloped his torso. He looked down, only to find heavy black chains digging on his skin, pulling him backwards. “Please, I need to go forward! I’m almost there…” He fought with all his might, but the cold metal wouldn’t budge. With one last surge of strength, he threw himself forward, only to be yanked by the heavy chain. He screamed as he was swallowed by the darkness, losing the fading echo that was calling for him. Michael was abruptly woken up by the sudden screeching of the old taxi’s breaks. It was hot, and the young man was sweating through his shirt. “There you go señor”, said the gruff voice of the taxi driver, his stern face looking back expectantly. “Oh, yes thank you,'' said Michael absently, grabbing a thousand pesos bill and putting it in the man’s thick hands. “Keep the change, it was a long ride.” The taxi driver eased his expression a little bit, his thick mustache twitching while he observed the young man opening the trunk to take his baggage out. He rolled down the window and whistled to get his attention. “Thank you señor. Let me give you some advice. This town is older than our country itself. Treat it with respect. And most important of all, let it treat you with the kindness you need.” Michael listened to the heavy accented voice, trying to make sense of what the old man was saying. Before he could ask anything, the tires screeched again and he was left standing in the middle of a dust cloud. He covered his face coughing, as he turned around to check out his surroundings. Small Spanish colonial houses decorated each side of the wide street. In the distance, the bell tower of the cathedral stood tall above the rooftops, watching proudly above the entire town. He had heard wonders about Mexican “Pueblos magicos”, but the rumors paled in comparison to the real deal. The entire town seemed to have been taken out of a storybook. He took his luggage and headed back towards the entrance of the hotel. The massive wooden doors were surrounded by two handsome bellboys, who took Michael’s luggage and welcomed him inside. He headed towards the front desk, admiring the iron chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling and the lavish decoration of the ex-hacienda’s lobby. “Welcome to San Miguel de Allende, Mr. Andersen. Could I please bother you with your passport and reservation number?”, said the gorgeous receptionist on the other side of the desk. His tight suit fitted the curves of his square chest perfectly, making it hard for Michael to focus on handing out the needed documents for the check-in. Fumbling with his bag, he handed in the papers to the receptionist, who swiftly typed in the needed information. “Your room number is 245. You’re free to explore all of our facilities, including the spa and the fitness center. Your luggage will be waiting for you in your room. If you need anything during your stay, let me know.”, he said flashing a heart melting smile and signaling the buff bellboy to come and pick up the suitcases. The hotel’s interior was just as gorgeous as the lobby. The ancient colonial building was adorned by all kinds of stone sculptures and old paintings depicting a past era of Mexican history. The hallways leading to the rooms formed a giant square, and in the middle, you could see the tables of the famous hotel’s restaurant surrounding the tall volcanic stone fountain in the center. The golden rays of sunlight made the water look like liquid fire, bubbling out of the sculpture’s intricate design. Michael’s room was on one corner of the uppermost floor. When he opened the big wooden doors, he found himself in the most luxurious room he had ever been in. A small living room with a few couches and an ornamental fireplace led to a big bedroom with a robust king size bed. Four door-sized windows lead to a wide balcony that overlooked the hills that surrounded the small town, along with the famous vineyard that belonged to the hotel. Michael just dropped his handbag and opened one of the doors leading outside. The hot air immediately hit his face, as he walked outside staring into the beautiful scenery. He let the scent of the arid breeze fill his lungs, as he felt he could relax for the first time in months. He begrudgingly let himself be convinced of taking a holiday by his friends back home, but he never expected to feel at such ease in a foreign country. This next week might be just what he needed to let his sorrow go. Michael was so enthralled by the landscape, that he completely missed the fact that the suite he was in was definitely not the room he booked. This kind of luxury would be definitely out of his budget. Once he truly realized what kind of room he was standing in, he rushed to the small coffee table next to one of the couches, and immediately dialed the number from the front desk. “Front desk, Hector Ramirez speaking.”, Michael instantly recognized the deep accented voice on the other side of the line. It was that handsome receptionist that checked him in just a few minutes ago. “Yes, uh…, I’m Michael Andersen from room 245. I just checked in with you a few moments ago.”, said Michael hesitantly. He scorned himself for sounding so nervous, but even through the phone he was still intimidated by the other man’s looks. “I think there might have been a mistake with my booking.” “Alright Mr. Andersen, let me check your reservation quickly.” Michael could hear the typing on the other side of the line. Seconds felt like hours, as the poor tourist grew more nervous thinking the mistake was his. “Everything seems to be alright Mr. Andersen,'' said the receptionist. Michael just stood in place meditating his next few words. “I’m sorry, but that can’t be. I booked a regular room, not… a suite.” “Your reservation states that you booked the presidential suite, Mr. Andersen. Let me check with my supervisor to see what can be done. I’ll call you in a moment.” Michael waited seated on the couch, tapping his feet nervously on the expensive red carpet. There was no way he booked a presidential suite at one of the town’s most expensive hotels. It was a miracle he could afford anything other than a hostel, let alone a five-star resort. Most of his savings had gone to this trip, so he was already feeling dreadful about spending that money. If they charged him for the suite, he would be stuck in Mexico doing work for the hotel to pay off his debt. As his anxiety started to get the best out of him, the ringing of the room’s phone made him jump in his seat. He immediately took the call, hearing that familiar mellifluous voice on the other side of the line. “Mr. Andersen! It’s Hector Ramirez again. I spoke to my supervisor about your problem, and it seems we’re in a difficult situation. We can’t move you to any other room, because the hotel is fully booked due to the national holidays this weekend. The mistake was probably caused by a change in our system, so the least we can do for you is to charge you the price of a regular single room and offer you the presidential suite for your entire stay.” Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only did he make it to a storybook town, but he was going full luxury on his stay. “Uhhh…. Thanks. I appreciate that.”, he said shyly to the phone. “Nothing to thank us for, Mr. Andersen. Our number one priority is to make your stay as comfortable as possible. If you need anything, I’m at your service.” Michael hung up the phone and for the first time in very long, he felt a genuine smile paint itself on his lips. This trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all. It might just be the remedy he needed. He jumped into the giant bed, letting himself be swallowed by its soft surface. Then, everything went dark. The agonizing screams kept getting closer, as Michael ran through the darkness looking desperately for the source of the sounds. Suddenly, it was cold. Very cold. It reminded Michael of the winters back home, where the sun hid for a couple of months, and a taciturn silence reigned supreme over the city. The happiness that the holidays once brought was long gone, one winter worse than the last one. This winter had been, by far, the worst time in his life. Feeling the cold brush against his skin as he ran through the darkness reminded him of the pain he felt when he was trapped inside his apartment with… “Michael, please! Hurry!” His footsteps started to get clumsy, as the ground shattered underneath him, like thin ice, submerging him into a frozen abyss. He felt his consciousness drift away once more, and the voice was suddenly like the beacon in a far-off lighthouse, lost in the winter mist. The sun was starting to set when Michael opened his eyes. The beautiful room was painted golden, giving it an even cozier appearance. He groggily stood up and checked out his phone. Many messages from his friends and family popped up on the screen. With a frustrated groan, he threw the phone on the bed and stretched his limbs. That little nap had been very refreshing, despite the horrible nightmares that still haunted him. “It must be the bed,'' he said out loud, admiring the mattresses’ soft texture. It was the first time he slept on silk sheets. He definitely understood rich people’s fascination for the expensive material. He went to the bathroom to wash himself and plan his evening. It was just as beautiful as the rest of the suite, with intricate marble decorations and even a big jacuzzi. The sink was just underneath a wall-sized mirror, where Michael could admire, or dread, his unkempt appearance. He didn’t realize how much he had let himself go these last few months. His dirty blonde hair looked greasy, and was in desperate need of styling. His chin and sideburns were covered by the little scruff he was able to grow, looking more like a rebellious teenager trying to grow his sparse facial hair than the twenty-five-year-old man he actually was. His baby-blue eyes were sunken on their sockets, encased by deep eye bags unable to conceal their tiredness. He was a cute guy, or so he heard. He didn’t really care for his youthful looks or his increasingly thin body. He was too tired to care for his appearance. After splashing some water on his face and brushing his teeth, he opened the browser on his phone to look for some activities. He found out the best way to explore the town, was actually heading to the center and do some walking himself. He changed his shirt and headed outside. The restaurant was starting to fill in with people. Michael made a mental note to himself to make a dinner reservation there to try out the local cuisine. Hector Ramirez was gone from the front desk, replaced by an equally hot Mexican stud. He took one little tourist leaflet from the information stand, and headed outside through the massive wooden doors. The streets looked way livelier than before, as people ventured to explore the old town’s streets safe from the scorching hot sun. The town’s central plaza wasn’t far from where he was, so he decided to take a stroll and check out what kind of activities he was willing to try out. By the time he made it in front of Saint Michael’s cathedral, the sun was already setting, and the small streets were absolutely filled with tourists. Mariachi music echoed through the streets, as people gathered inside cantinas and restaurants, getting ready for a night of partying. Michael wasn’t a fan of socializing, so he immediately discarded the party scene from his to-do list. On his way to the plaza, he found a sightseeing bus, some good restaurants and lots of artisanal shops. The cathedral was already closed, so he decided to check out some of those stores around the center before finding somewhere to eat. All the small shops sold essentially the same things. A lot of artisanal stone cravings, some quartz sculptures, paintings and some variety of clothing. Michael checked out the pieces of art, admiring the Catrinas and pieces of fruit made out of precious minerals. He considered buying some souvenirs for people back home, but decided to wait until the end of his trip so he didn’t have to carry heavy stones while he headed for dinner. Once the stores started closing, he made his way through the streets looking for an empty-looking restaurant to sit in peace and enjoy the Mexican culinary culture. All the places looked extremely full though, which discouraged Michael to try out some of the Restaurants on the main streets. After walking for a while, he found himself on smaller, darker looking alleys. People were still walking around, so he wasn’t nervous. He read online that the town was very safe, despite what the media back home sputtered about the Latin American country. Once he got tired of looking for a restaurant, he took out his phone to google which good dining places were close to him. A faint voice caught his attention, as he looked up from the screen to find an old looking woman sitting on the curb of the alley. She was wearing an intricate shawl, adorned with colorful details. Her tan face was covered in wrinkles, giving her a wise appearance. On her lap laid a carpet full of artisanal stone carvings, similar to what Michael saw on the different shops across town. But these articles looked more detailed, and complicated. He approached the old woman, who just smiled staring straight into Michael’s blue eyes. “Ah, joven. What can I help you with?”, she said. Her voice was raspy and dry, and her accent very strong. Still, she spoke in such a way that Michael didn’t have any trouble understanding. “Your stuff is very beautiful. Do you make these yourself?” “Si, I do. Very, very hard. Hands don’t trabajan like before.” “Still, I’m very impressed…”, said Michael checking out the wares. “Tell me, joven. What can I help you with?” Her tone was eerie, but very calm. Michael looked at her once again, not knowing what he should answer. “You think I don’t know, joven. But I do. I can see your dolor. Your pain.” Michael went pale, feeling completely defenseless against the mysterious woman’s gaze. He started to sweat, as he felt the sincerest words he had said in a long time bubble up from his throat. “I want to be happy again. I want to laugh, and cheer, and love again. I want to feel life is worth living. And most of all, I want to recover the strength I lost.” He immediately covered his mouth, not believing what he just said. The woman smiled, her dull eyes sparkling for an instant. Without looking, she reached for her pocket, and took out what seemed to be a black rock. When she opened her palm, Michael saw a small but very detailed black heart. “This is an onyx heart. It helps you to let go of the past. What has happened to you will strengthen your heart. Let this precious stone guide you to your destiny.” Michael took the stone in his hands. It was cold to the touch, its surface smooth and free of any impurity. Before he could reach for his wallet, the woman stopped him with a sign from his hands. “No payment. The heart has always been yours. You will pay with your actions, not with your money.” Michael smiled at the old woman, not fully understanding what she meant. With a cordial “gracias” he got up and headed to the lit street at the end of the alley. The woman smiled, knowing already what the land had planned for that young man’s destiny. “Pollo con mole, tiradito de atún, escamoles….” Michael was trying his best to understand the exotic dishes printed on the small restaurant’s menu. According to TripAdvisor, this was one of the best places to be having dinner. It wasn’t very expensive, so he decided to treat himself with a nice meal. Being a victim of Montezuma’s revenge scared him a little, but the sounds coming from his empty stomach indicated a stronger need to stuff himself with anything he could find. When the waiter came with the fruity margarita he ordered, he asked him what his recommendation was. “You should have the Aguachile, señor. It’s the best one in town!” “But isn’t it too spicy?”, asked Michael remembering chile means chili. Doing Spanish in high school was starting to pay off. “Nah, don’t you worry señor. I’ll ask the chef to make it mild just for you.”, said the waiter smiling through his dense mustache. “Alright, thanks! I’ll have some guacamole as well.” “Coming right up!” The waiter rushed back into the kitchen, leaving the student alone to enjoy his margarita. When his lips touched the salt frosted glass, he winced tasting the strong tequila even through the sugary strawberry syrup. The strong agave distillate slid down his throat, burning everything on its path. “If you make those faces with a margarita, imagine when you move to a real caballito.” A deep voice caught Michael’s attention, who turned around and was faced by the most handsome man he had ever seen. A short black beard covered his square jaw, sprinkled with some white hairs giving it a regal appearance. Two deep brown eyes hooded by two bushy, but well-groomed eyebrows stared at the young student intensely. His hair was black as well, styled perfectly in a faded quiff. The man looked very muscular, his athletic build encased in a perfectly tailored black shirt. It was open, exposing the hard ridge of his upper chest, and his arms strained against the expensive looking fabric. He was probably in his early- to mid- forties judging by the white strands on his hair. Michael was so impressed by the man’s appearance, he completely missed what he had said. “Huh? What do you mean?”, was the only thing he could stutter. The man just chuckled, his chest shaking inside the shirt, threatening to rip it apart. “I mean, when you start drinking tequila how it was meant to be drunk. On a caballito. Like a shot glass.” The man then stood up, exposing his impressive figure to the speechless student. His legs were proportionally big as well, stretching the tailored pants with each step. “Mind if I join you?”, he asked. Michael just nodded, trying his hardest not to start drooling in front of such a person. The man sat down next to him, putting his own caballito on the table. “Where are my manners? My name is Iñigo de la Fuente.” His voice was soft, but deep and commanding. His gaze stern, but warm and welcoming. There was something about this man Michael couldn’t put his finger on. Even his scent was alluring, exuding an expensive wooden smell product of some cologne on his neck. “I-I’m Michael Andersen.”, he said shakingly. “Pleasure to meet you Mr. Andersen. Can I call you Michael?”, he said extending his hand. “Sure, it’s fine,'' answered the student, taking the man’s hand. His grip was strong, his palm rough and calloused. Despite his impeccable appearance, the man was no stranger to hard labor it seemed. “You can call me Iñigo too,'' he said, sipping some tequila from his glass. “What brings you to San Miguel de Allende, Michael?” “My friends recommended the trip for me to relax and get out of the routine. Some…stuff happened back at home, so I needed a break,” said Michael diverting his gaze from the man’s. Iñigo immediately saw the pain that haunted the young student. “I see. This is a magical place. It changes you in more than one way. I really hope you find what you’re looking for.” “I hope so too,'' said Michael taking another sip from his margarita. “What about you?” “What brings me here you mean?”, said Iñigo chuckling. “My family has been living here since colonial times. I was born and raised here.” “Oh, I see,'' said the student, feeling a bit embarrassed. “So, any recommendations? Anything I can’t miss during my stay here?” “Well, the town is beautiful. You should definitely get lost on the streets and explore it by yourself. You can visit some local art galleries as well. If you want something more, non-conventional, you should pay a visit to the local vineyards.” “Yes! I saw many on my way here. I have a view over one from my hotel room as well.” “In which hotel are you staying?”, asked Iñigo, stroking his beard. “It’s called Real de Rosales. Not so far from here, I think.” Iñigo just stayed quiet, his eyes scanning the young man before him. “Yes, I know where it is,'' he said absently. “You can’t miss the restaurant there too.” “It looks very good! I definitely wanna try it!” They talked for a while, discussing Michael’s engineering studies, and some other local subtleties. The waiter came with the food, and both men joined to have dinner. Hours felt like minutes, as both Michael and Iñigo grew more interested in each other. They laughed, ate and drank for a long time. Iñigo even tried to convince Michael to try some pure tequila, but the student refused, not willing to lose his composure in front of that elegant man. Some time past midnight, Iñigo asked for the check and even paid for Michael’s meal. “This one’s on me. For the good company.”, he said flashing a heart melting smile. Michael felt embarrassed that a stranger was paying for his expenses. “No! I can’t let you pay for me, he said, reaching for his wallet. Iñigo stopped him, grabbing his arm. Michael could feel the strong grip almost surrounding its entire circumference. “I insist. In fact, if you do feel bad about it, next one’s on you.” Michael couldn’t believe his ears. This gorgeous man he just met was asking to meet him again. He enthusiastically nodded, a cheerful smile printing itself on the student’s lips. Iñigo smiled as well, wondering what it was that he found so attractive in this young man. “Tomorrow, I promise,'' said Michael, extending his hand. Iñigo grabbed it and both men sealed the promise with a handshake. The student ordered a taxi to go back to the hotel. Before closing the door, he yelled to catch Iñigo’s attention, who was heading to his own car. “Wait! How can I contact you? I don’t have your number or anything.”, he said. Iñigo let out a booming laugh, and approached the open taxi. “I’ll pick you up at six in your hotel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, the taxi door was closed and the infatuated student was on his way back to the hotel. The moment he entered the suite, he threw himself on the bed like a lovestruck teenager. He couldn’t wait to see what that handsome man had planned for both of them. He drifted into sleep, the cold black onyx heart still in his pocket. The screams were getting closer this time. Michael was still fighting his way through the darkness, when suddenly he found a door. A very familiar door, identical to the one back at home in his apartment. He slowly opened it, and found himself standing in the middle of his small living room. The place was messy and dirty, almost like it had been uninhabited for a long time. Spiderwebs hung from the ceiling, and dust gathered on every surface. The screams had stopped. Michael explored his living room, seeing all his consoles and books in their respective places. He took one of the picture frames, and swept the dust off the glass surface. He remembered the picture. A healthier looking Michael was smiling back at him, along with another person. A very familiar person. The next few pictures were taken with the exact same person. All of them depicted fun and happy moments between both the student and the other man. In fact, the living room was filled with different mementos covered in dust and spiderwebs. Valentine’s day balloons, letters, a music box, a stuffed animal and even some empty wine bottles. A sound coming from the hallway caught Michael’s attention. He headed towards the noise, entering the dark hallway. It was cold again, Michael could see his breath condensing in front of him. He started shaking uncontrollably, his teeth chattering due to the bitter cold. The hallway grew more and more unkempt, the floorboards starting to crack and break under the student’s feet. When he reached the end of the hallway, he found himself in front of his bedroom door. He heard a whisper from the other side. As he approached to listen to what it was saying, the door opened and a chain with a harpoon pierced Michael’s chest, yanking him inside the bedroom. The student woke up screaming, almost jumping out of bed. He was sweating profusely, the silk sheets sticking to his skin. He was having nightmares again. He rubbed his eyes groggily, and saw some morning sun peeking through the thick curtains. He checked his phone, seeing he had some missed calls from his friends and family. He grunted annoyed, and wrote a few short texts to let everyone know he was fine. When he got out of bed, he felt heavy. “I shouldn’t have eaten that much so late,'' he said to himself as he headed towards the bathroom to wash himself. The shower was glorious, being equipped with a hydro massage and a sauna. Michael relished in on the sensations that the water caused on his skin. He couldn’t help but feel something out of place, almost as if the water flowed differently on his skin. After he was done, he approached the mirror to brush his teeth. When he saw his reflection, he felt a bit uneasy. He couldn’t tell why, but his hair looked a shade darker. He brushed it with his fingers, and a few strands came off, sticking to his hand. His face looked different as well, almost as if the lighting in the bathroom was casting a shadow on his jawline. It made it look sharper as well. When he inspected the rest of his body, he saw that his formerly smooth skin was now plagued by small but thick bristles. It was denser on his arms, his chest and his legs. Even his pubic hair looked darker as well. Michael was very confused, but he attributed it to the lack of recovery sleep and the food the day prior. At least Montezuma didn’t show up to mess up his night some more. He got dressed, wearing some shorts and a simple t-shirt. His legs felt a bit snug against the fabric, and so did his arms. He made another mental note to himself to eat less heavy stuff so the bloating would go away. He took the onyx heart with him on his way out, storing it inside his pocket. He had breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant. The buffet was filled with all kinds of tasty dishes and exotic fruits. Michael served himself a lot of eggs, some chilaquiles and fried beans. His appetite wasn’t usually that big early in the morning, but this time he engulfed all in his path. Michael didn’t find it alarming, thinking it would help to carry him through the very active routine he had planned. He left the hotel, greeting Hector on his way out, and headed towards the town’s center. It was a hot day. Michael was already sweating when he stepped out into the scorching sunlight. The street seemed brighter than the day before. Michael didn’t know if it was the magic of the place, or just sleeping in such a luxurious bed that had him in a good mood. He even smiled and greeted a few strangers that walked past him. The slight discomfort of his legs rubbing with each other made him widen his stance, not noticing the change in his stride. By the time he made it to the sightseeing bus stop, his drenched t-shirt was sticking tight against his torso, and he could feel the waistband of his shorts dig into his flesh. “Weird.”, he mumbled, trying to pull down the hem of his t-shirt down to cover his lower belly. He paid his ticket, and immediately took his seat inside the old bus. The tour was in Spanish, so he hoped to catch a few phrases to at least understand the context of what the tour guide was saying. “San Miguel de Allende fue un poblado pre-hispanico chichimeca…” Michael was listening to the woman’s explanation about the town’s history, understanding way more than he thought he would. He even knew some facts about Mexican history before the guide would mention them. He never considered himself well educated in foreign matters, but the way the woman was talking about the Mexican War of Independence and the Mexican Revolution seemed familiar. Almost like he had heard the tale somewhere else before. The bus drove through the streets full of tourists, making a few stops on the town’s most important landmarks. Michael was paying attention to the tour, but he couldn’t help but notice some different aspects all over the landscape, like where people gathered the most to buy food, or where the different colonial building façades looked most worn out by the weather. He couldn’t help but think of ways to improve the streets, making them cleaner and more attractive to different kinds of people. His wandering mind was interrupted by the announcement that the tour was over. His daydream made him miss the rest of the explanation. He got out of the bus, leaving the lady a very generous tip for her service. The next few hours went over fast. He grabbed a cold michelada and sat on a bench right outside Saint Michael’s cathedral, admiring the beauty of the bell tower. “No wonder this town is so famous. Everything is gorgeous”, he said, feeling completely at ease. Despite sitting directly under the sun, he felt no discomfort. His pale skin was usually very sensitive to light and hot weather, burning even after the smallest exposure. But at that moment, he was enjoying the warmth against his face, fully bathing in the afternoon sunlight. It was a nice contrast to the cold and dark weather back home. He left back to the hotel two hours before the time he was supposed to meet Iñigo, so he could get ready for the date in peace. Once he was back in his suite, he headed straight for the shower to wash off all the stale sweat from the excursion earlier. He struggled trying to take his t-shirt off, almost like it was a few sizes too small. The button from his shorts practically burst on its own, releasing the tension Michael kept feeling during the day. Looking in the mirror, he definitely looked bigger. His arms seemed stronger, just like his legs. His formerly teen-sized waist had thickened considerably, along with his flat chest. He reached up to grab one of his pecs, and was surprised to feel a very small chunk of hard muscle underneath. It was still imperceptible to the eyes, but it was definitely there. The small bristles had also grown some, covering his limbs with a dark dusting of sparse hair. But instead of feeling alarmed by the second puberty he was going through, Michael felt it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t pay any attention to the changes, heading straight into the shower. He had sweat a lot, so he made sure to wash every part of his body thoroughly. The idea of showing up even with the smallest amount of dirt to his date disgusted him. Iñigo was a very elegant man, so the least he could do was to try and get on his level. He chose to wear some dark jeans, along with the only button shirt he had brought to the trip. The fact that it was a size too big was perfect to accommodate his new bulk. Again, he took the small onyx heart before leaving the room. When he arrived in the lobby, his eyes were immediately attracted by Iñigo’s imposing figure. Like the day before, he was clad in a perfectly tailored black suit that hugged every curve of his body. He was leaning over the front desk, casually chatting with Hector Ramirez, who looked just as gorgeous as every time Michael saw him. The student’s heart sank on his chest, thinking he might have misinterpreted things with the local man. After all, why would such a stud be interested in a weedy foreign man? Self-doubt plagued Michael’s mind, triggering his flight instinct. But before he could sneak out of there unembarrassed, he heard Iñigo’s booming voice resonate on the high ceiling of the hacienda. “Michael! Over here!” Michael’s resistance melted the instant he heard that deep accented bass mention his name. He turned around, putting on the best smile his lips could muster. “Hello Iñigo. You’re a bit early”, he said approaching the handsome man. Iñigo immediately took his hand for a firm handshake. The student’s heart skipped a bit, feeling that strong grasp on his palm again. “Ah, yes. I was talking a bit with the guys at the front desk. I’m always impressed to see how much Hector has grown.”, he said looking back at the front desk. “The boy was raised on one of my family’s properties. It makes me proud to see he grew up to be such a responsible young man.” Michael wasn’t surprised to find out that Iñigo was probably an influential figure in this town. His poise, his style and his manners depicted a very cultured and educated person. “So, are you ready to taste the best tequila you ever had?”, asked Iñigo, inviting Michael to walk next to him. “Only a little bit. I’m not ready to re-live my university party days.” “Ah, of course. It’s only going to be a taste. After all, the highlight of this town is the wine. I’ll be your own personal sommelier tonight.”, said Iñigo. Both men then headed outside, where the man’s car was waiting for them. The place they were visiting was more on the outer part of town. The art gallery used to be an old factory, adapted to showcase the local artists’ works. According to the Mexican, one of the best cantinas was right next to the place. Before heading for dinner, Iñigo invited Michael to take a look through the many exhibitions. Walking around, the student got more and more mesmerized by the handsome man, as he explained all the different art movements embodied in the paintings. “Many of the upcoming artists here are struggling. This gallery gives them an opportunity to show their talent to the world. Even if their work isn’t immediately bought, the fact that they’re being seen for their artistry is enough for most of them. Creativity flourishes in adversity.”, said Iñigo, admiring the different paintings before them. Michael just listened silently. He could relate more to those artists than the man thought, having gone through plenty of adversity himself. Iñigo noticed the student’s increasingly grim expression, and made a detour to head to the cantina. Once they were sitting on a table, the waiter brought them a few snacks and two caballitos. Iñigo ordered the best tequila in the house in Spanish. Michael didn’t realize he was starting to understand even the single expressions in the foreign language. The waiter poured both glasses full, and with a small toast both men took a sip of the agave drink. “So, Michael. These two eyes have seen many people come and go from this town. When I see you, I see you’re in need of a friend. What happened there?” The student looked down on his glass, not knowing what to answer. Iñigo was still a stranger after all. But there was something inside of him that wanted to vomit his concealed feelings. The emotions were bubbling inside of him, causing his body temperature to rise. He unbuttoned his shirt's uppermost button, feeling the fresh air brush against his hot skin. The handsome man’s allure was too powerful, inspiring trust and confidence in Michael. “Nothing important,'' he said, taking a sip of tequila. “Art galleries remind me of someone.” “Someone? As in important someone?”, asked Iñigo. His dark eyes staring deeply into the student’s own. “Yes. My ex-boyfriend was a very talented artist. He used to love visiting these places, interpreting the paintings and translating the artists’ emotions in such a way that I understood everything.” Michael’s eyes started to water, but he made an inhuman effort to swallow the tears. Iñigo noticed the student’s distress, and took his hand. “Whatever happened between you two, it's in the past. You can learn from it, but you can’t live in it. You have to let go.” “How…?”, asked Michael, his voice breaking. The onyx heart in his pocket started to pulse, its cold surface heating up slowly. “I spent months trying to heal. My entire life crumbled right in front of me. That’s why I’m here. This was my last resort, so I wouldn’t…”. He couldn’t finish the sentence. Iñigo rubbed his rough fingers on the student’s hand, trying his best to calm him down. The man’s touch was having a positive effect on Michael, a feeling of safety washing all over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable with someone, despite talking about the one thing he couldn’t talk about to other people. “Pain is a very strange thing,'' said Iñigo. “You can feel it trying to destroy you. If you let it, it will. But the truth is, that pain teaches you how strong you are.” “What do you mean?”, asked Michael looking up to meet the man’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but the fact that you’re sitting here with me is a testament to your fortitude. You survived.” Michael’s expression eased up, as the man’s words entered his being, and washed all the sorrow away. He could almost feel the black heart syphoning the negativity away. “Once you let go of the past, you will see your destiny.” Michael smiled at Iñigo, his own heart warming up. He took the tequila glass up and made another toast. “For destiny.” Iñigo raised his glass too, smiling at the student. He could feel a strong attraction for him as well, and he couldn’t tell why. A lifetime in that town had taught him not to question destiny’s intricate design. Letting things flow was the best path of action one could take. “For destiny.” Both men kept drinking all night. Michael didn’t notice how much alcohol went into his system. He was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, but for some reason he could keep up with Iñigo all night long. He could feel his torso slowly starting to press against the shirt, the buttons starting to struggle to keep it closed. His movement was being restricted by the fabric, his back forbidding his arms to move forward. The pressure on his jeans was unbearable, so he eventually took off his belt and unbuttoned the pants. By the time the bottle was empty, it was past midnight and both men were slightly drunk. “So, my friend. I owe you an apology.”, said Iñigo, his voice losing some of its elegance and acquiring a hint of macho that made Michael’s manhood twitch. “I didn’t let you try out the wine I promised.” “Don’t worry, hombre.”, said Michael, his own voice feeling a bit more raspy than usual. “I’ll still be here a couple of more days.” “Then let me promise, tomorrow I’ll take you to the vineyard. A private tour. What do you say?” “Of course, I’d love it. With one condition. You have to wear some sexy outfit para el campo” Iñigo’s laugh almost made the bar’s glasses shake. “You got it, my friend.” Iñigo’s driver dropped Michael at his hotel, and drove away into the night. By the time he made it to his room, the drunk student barely managed to take off his shoes and plummet into the bed, straight into Morpheus’ embrace. When Michael opened his eyes, he was standing in an identical copy of his bedroom. His sheets were undone, as usual, and his clothes were laying on their usual spot on the floor. The lights were on, and everything looked normal. Someone was sitting on the bed, facing straight into the dark window on the other side of the room. “So, you finally made it huh? Took you long enough.” Michael’s face grew pale, as the person turned around and he knew exactly who he was. “Will?” “In the flesh,'' said Will standing up from the bed. “I really thought you weren’t going to make it.” “When have I not made it?” asked Michael approaching the other man. “You know when.” “That’s not fair Will, I gave you everything I had.” Will’s face grew somber, a sinister shadow spreading on his eyes. “Not everything. You never gave your all for this relationship. Not even a year and you’re already looking for a replacement.” “That’s not true! It was a difficult time for both of us. The world was trying its best to kill us. And I stayed. It tore me apart, but I stayed. You were the one that left!” “You know it wasn’t my fault!”, roared Will, the room shaking uncontrollably. The dark shadow was spreading from Will’s body into the surroundings, making the wooden floor decay and the painting on the walls peel down. “I was sick! What else were you expecting? Can you really blame me for what happened? Let me rephrase that. Do you still blame me for what happened?!” Before Michael could answer, the decaying floor gave away, and the student fell into the darkness below. On his way down, he heard the dreaded siren of an ambulance, he saw the blue lights of a police car, and felt his own wails of suffering escape his throat once again. The light of the room went up and away like a shooting star. “Room service!” A knocking on the door pulled Michael out from his sleep. He had no idea how late it was, but judging by the bright light coming in from the window, it must be nearing noon. He felt like he was run over by a bulldozer. Slowly, he dragged his heavy body out of the bed to answer the knocking. “Un Segundo”, he said, his accent in Spanish not as pronounced as it used to be. When he opened the door, he was met by the startled face of a small woman in a maid’s outfit. “Uhh…, vuelvo después.”, she said and rapidly disappeared with her car in the hallway. Michael just stood there with the door half open, wondering if he said something wrong. The woman looked embarrassed and impressed. He headed to the bathroom for his morning routine, but when he saw himself in the mirror he almost screamed for help, thinking a stranger had gotten inside his suite. “Damn, is that me?”, he said admiring his different body on the reflective surface. The shirt had given up during the night, and on the opening Michael could see a lean muscular torso. The small bristles had grown into a full dark carpet that covered his hard chest and descended over the faint ridges of his abdominal muscles into the overly stretched waistband of his jeans. He struggled to take the ruined garment off, to finally free his much thicker arms from their confinement. They were covered by thick body hair as well. He flexed in front of the mirror, a small hill rising from his upper arm. Even his armpit hair was different, the sparse blonde hair replaced by a thick bush. Despite being so hairy, he still looked well groomed. Not a single hair looked unkempt, all his pelt meticulously designed to accentuate the much more athletic body. He forcefully took off his jeans, revealing thick corded muscle underneath. His boxer briefs were now stretched by an actual ass, instead of the flat surface that occupied them before. Even his bigger feet were hairy now, each toe displaying a dusting of its own. He took a closer look at his face. His nose seemed bigger, along with a more pronounced brow and higher cheekbones. He looked rougher, and mature. His blue eyes looked a bit darker, and his hair was browner instead of blonde now, and looked more wavy than straight like it used to be. What really stood out from his new visage was the dark five o’clock shadow covering his square jaw. It was rough as sandpaper, and so thick no naked skin was visible underneath. Michael was completely speechless, feeling new strength and energy coursing through his whole body. Somehow, it felt right. He wasn’t scared, he was just surprised. The more time he moved his body in front of the mirror, the more normal it seemed. By the time he was able to turn around and get into the shower, the changes settled in his mind, and he fully accepted his new looks like they had always been there. Even the water felt more erogenous, flowing against the thick hair. He looked for something to wear, but the only things that fit him now were a pair of athletic shorts, and an oversized t-shirt he brought in case he decided to work out. His stomach rumbled loudly, so he quickly went out to grab something to eat. On his way to the restaurant, he greeted both hotel staff, and guests cordially, feeling very at ease with the people surrounding him. His shy demeanor was slowly disappearing, letting out a more confident and friendly personality. He ordered a lot of food from the restaurant’s lunch menu, enjoying every bite with a newfound taste. His tolerance to chili had grown as well, his palate discovering new sensations that came together with the wide variety of spices being served in the local cuisine. Michael was about to order a third plate, when he heard a familiar voice yell at him from the distance. “Miguel! There you are! I was worried you weren’t going to survive the killer hangover,” said Iñigo approaching the table where the student was sitting. He looked different, wearing a skin-tight white shirt, open to expose his herculean chest. His jeans were sticking perfectly to his muscular legs, leaving nothing to Michael’s imagination about what the man was packing between his legs. Something about his greeting seemed strange to him though, but the infatuated student couldn’t point out what. “Hey Iñigo! What did you just call me?” “What do you mean? I said Michael, there you are. It seems some of the tequila’s blessings are still in your body!”, he said putting his heavy hand on Michael’s shoulders. “So, are you ready for your surprise today?” “What surprise? You told me we’re going to the vineyard, right?” “Ah, yes! I just didn’t tell you what we were going to do there!”, said Iñigo laughing. “But you’ll have to change clothes. That outfit is not suited for a day on the field. The ants will eat you alive.” “But they’re my only clothes left…”, said the student looking down embarrassed. He was already feeling a bit self-conscious on spending a day on his workout clothes, not to mention the rest of his wardrobe was rendered useless with his increased mass. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Hector to bring you some proper clothes to your room. Once you’re done changing, meet me at the entrance to the field at the back of the hotel.” Iñigo then walked back to the front desk, leaving Michael sitting on the table, wondering how that man could have anything he wanted with the click of his fingers. And true to his word, when he came back to the room, he found a bag of brand-new clothes waiting for him. A white shirt like the one Iñigo was wearing, alone with a pair of jeans, boots and a hat. The clothes looked big at first, but once he put the whole outfit on, he felt surprisingly comfortable. He took the onyx heart once again, putting it in his pocket, and left to meet Iñigo. The vineyard belonging to the hotel was immense. Row after row of grape vines painted the dry field green, giving it a fertile appearance. A small building on top of the hill overlooked the crops. Michael assumed that must be the winery, where they distilled the fruit to make the drinks. He approached the wooden arch that worked as the entrance, when he heard heavy steps coming his way. Within a cloud of dust, Iñigo appeared sitting on a gigantic black stallion. The animal was beautiful, both powerful and graceful, fitting for the handsome man sitting on top. Next to him was an equally big and gorgeous chocolate colored horse, with an empty saddle on top. “So, are you ready for our tour?”, said Iñigo. “Horseback riding? I can’t even drive a bicycle! What makes you think I’ll be able to control…that.”, said the student nodding towards the imposing beast. “It’s more intuitive than you think. Once you get on, you’ll feel you’ve been doing it your entire life.” Michael hesitated for an instant, a milliard of possible accidents flashing quickly on his mind. He looked at the horse, and both man and creature made eye contact. Suddenly, the student felt calm and confident, and decided to give it a shot. With a grace he didn’t know he had, he jumped on the horse, taking it by the reigns. “For someone who has never been on a horse, you sure look like a natural,'' said Iñigo checking the student out. He looked very attractive with his fitted white shirt and cowboy hat. “Follow me!”, he said and signaled his own stallion to gallop into the vineyard. Michael followed suit, using an instinct he didn’t know he had to guide the animal inside. Both men galloped for some time, enjoying the warm breeze and the bright sunlight. Michael was grabbing the reins with force, using his newfound strength to keep his body in the right positions. The movement of the horse was sending ripples across his body, making his muscles twitch and adapt in response. His forearms flexed and grew, sinewy muscle taking root in the previously slender limbs. He used one free hand to roll up the sleeves, exposing the hairy muscle to the hot exterior. His biceps bulged out too, growing stronger the more the student pulled the reins. His triceps grew as big as the horseshoes the beast had attached to its hooves, hanging down and stretching the sleeves to impossible limits. His shoulders rounded out and grew as big as cannon balls, proportionate to the arms they were now supposed to carry. He was using his legs to stabilize himself, squeezing the animal with strength. The thick fabric of his jeans started to stretch, giving away to the tree trunks that were replacing his legs. He felt more comfortable once his ass ballooned out making a perfect cushion for the hard saddle underneath. Once he caught up with Iñigo, he used all his might to stop the horse, pulling the reins and making it rear. The sudden display of strength made his chest puff out into two massive concrete slabs, bursting out from the upper part of his shirt and forming an almost obscene cleavage. His stomach hardened into a perfectly cut eight-pack, bulging with strength, and his back flared out almost ripping the rest of the shirt to shreds. “Woah! What a rrrush,” said Michael, rolling his tongue to pronounce the word. “I told you, you’re a natural,'' said Iñigo, getting off the horse. “Come with me. I want you to take a look at the fruits.” Both men entered one of the furthest rows of vines. Grapes hung from the plant’s cordons, giving some color to the otherwise green landscape. Iñigo took one fruit and tore it off, handing it to Michael. The student looked perplexed for a bit, worried they might get into trouble for damaging the plants. Iñigo saw Michael’s face, reading through his emotions, and smiled. “Don’t worry. No one is going to tell us anything.” “I’m sure a tour around the vineyard doesn’t include stealing some of the fruit.” “It’s not stealing if you own it,'' said Iñigo laughing. Michael opened both his eyes in surprise, everything about the mysterious Mexican man suddenly making sense. “Wait, so you own the vineyard? And the hotel?” “Well, not only me.”, he said, his gaze suddenly getting lost in the distance. “Who else?”, asked Michael, scratching his hairy pecs with his free hands. “No, just me. I got confused for a second,” said Iñigo, diverting his attention back to Michael. “Anyways, try it out and tell me your opinion.” Michael took the grape and put it in his mouth, its rich fruity flavor inundating his mind. He stayed quiet for a moment, his brain interpreting the taste and all the possible combinations with it. Iñigo leaned down playfully, looking for the student’s lost eyes. “And?” “Very tasty and rich in flavor. The tannins don’t taste that strong. It’s going to be a good crop. Malbec, right?” Iñigo smiled, partially surprised the student had such a wide viticulture. Michael smiled back at him, puffing out his chest proudly and standing straighter. He didn’t notice when his body stretched up a few inches. “Yes, it is. It’s the house’s specialty. We’re known for our wine’s rich and…” “…and spicy flavor. I know. Very impressive, Iñigo. Well done.” “If you want to try out some of the already prepared wine, let’s go to the winery. I assumed you would like wine, so I arranged a tasting for us.” “I love it. Thank you, Iñigo.”, said Michael taking the now shorter man’s hand, squeezing it tenderly. “Well, follow me then,'' said Iñigo, getting on his stallion and galloping uphill. Michael followed suit, and soon both men were entering the winery. The rich scent of freshly pressed grapes, wine and wood filled in their nostrils, as they made a small tour looking at the machinery and storage. The distillery was big enough to be the most important in town, with the wine getting exported nationally and internationally. Iñigo explained the process to make wine, and Michael listened carefully. A lot of things made more sense than he thought, almost like he was an expert oenologist himself. When they made it to the end of the tour, a small candle lit table was waiting for them next to the massive storage shelves filled with bottles. They sat on opposing sides, chatting gleefully about new production methods and marketing ideas. “I had no idea you’d be such a wine enthusiast”, said Iñigo taking a sip off his glass. “What can I say, wine culture is in my family.”, said Michael, his mind erasing the fact that his parents didn’t even drink. “And you, my friend, have truly made a name for yourself with this winery. Everything is exquisite.” Michael’s voice started to crack and drop, reaching a gruff bass deeper than Iñigo’s. His neck bulged out, thick cords of muscle climbing up from his traps to his head. “Only the best for you, my friend,'' said Iñigo, filling up the student’s glass. Both men looked up, staring at each other. Michael was finding it harder and harder not to throw himself on the Mexican man, and judging by his face, so was Iñigo. “So, Miguel, how have you liked your trip?” “Well, I certainly love the town. It’s filled with good people. Not to mention the rich cultural heritage.” “Tell me, what has been your favorite part?”, Iñigo asked, already knowing the answer. Neither one of them realized the conversation shifted naturally to Spanish, Michael speaking perfectly in the tonality of the region. “Well, the food is definitely tastier and richer, the architecture exquisite, a testament to both colonial and Mexican artistry, and the artistic talent lurking around every corner. I couldn’t possibly just choose one.” He stayed quiet for a moment, admiring Iñigo’s handsome face. “If I had to choose… I would choose you. You made the whole trip magical. I wish it wouldn’t end.” “It doesn’t have to,'' said Iñigo, getting closer. “You could stay. I’d like you to stay.” Michael looked down for a bit, a glimmer of his sorrow still present inside of him. “I can’t… I need to go back home.” “Why? You could start fresh here! Live a new life, and leave your past behind.” Michael’s head was spinning. Part of him was still attached to his pain, almost addicted to it. The pain he used as an excuse not to move forward, to stay tacit and not look for change. Even if that change brought happiness with it. But another part of him was telling him he belonged there. He could make his life, and the life of others, much better if he just let go off the past. The black stone in his pocket was pulsing, balancing the energy inside his body. Soon, the part of him that was frozen in the past started to get smaller, its voice drowning in the shine of the possible future. He was ready to take that leap of faith, and find a new destiny. Without saying a word, he got up and threw himself at Iñigo, their mouths interlocking in a passionate kiss. With a mighty push of his arm, he wiped the wooden table off the glasses and plates, and both men threw themselves on the sturdy surface, which miraculously stayed in one piece, supporting the weight of both massive bodies. Michael explored every corner of the Mexican man’s mouth, tasting the sweet aftermath of the wine. His jaw cracked and grew like a cinder block, ending with a cleft chin worthy of a superhero. The rough shadow of his beard stayed the same length, but a majestic handlebar of a mustache blossomed on his upper lip. He descended on Iñigo’s neck, biting and licking it, filling his lungs with the man’s strong scent. He could practically taste the wooden smell, along with the intoxicating natural musk product of an afternoon in the hot sunlight. Iñigo grabbed the student’s body with his both hands, feeling the vast expanse of his muscular back underneath his palms. With ease, Michael tore Iñigo’s shirt open, exposing a chiseled torso worthy of a renaissance marble sculpture. The light caramel tone of his skin only accentuated the deep cuts of his muscle. It wasn’t as massive as Michael’s, but much more meticulously sculpted to the point of obsession. He descended further, licking the man’s hard chest and tasting the salty flavor of fresh sweat. Michael’s face changed further, cracking and growing to match his new size. His brow was pronounced over his eyes, and his nose cracked and grew thicker, giving him a much rougher appearance than Iñigo. The hair on his head darkened, finally matching the pelt on his body, and styled itself into an elegant side part. Iñigo tore the student’s shirt open too, exposing the hairy mountains underneath. Even his back was hairy, sporting its own dark dusting. Michael’s pecs were round and heavy, less defined than Iñigo’s, but much more powerful-looking. He had to tear the sleeves apart, because the gargantuan arms wouldn’t fit through the openings anymore. Once Michael made it to the Mexican’s crotch, he swiftly undid the button and took his pants away, exposing some tight silk briefs with a massive bulge inside. Playfully, he bit the elastic and pulled it down, and Iñigo’s overgrown penis jumped out, almost slapping him on the face. With dexterity, he took the entire member inside his mouth and began massaging it with his tongue. Iñigo’s deep moans resonated through the rows of shelves, as he relished in the feelings that were spreading from his loins. Michael started to taste the flavor of the Mexican’s essence, which triggered another phase in his change. His muscles thickened and grew some more, gaining a layer of healthy fat over them. His stomach bulged out like a tortoise’s shell, worthy of a strongman more than a bodybuilder. His chest got heavier, and his ass bulged out further into a massive boulder. Then, his pale skin started to darken, acquiring the characteristic caramel tone of a Latin man. His features rearranged to cement his new heritage. After some minutes, he stopped sucking Iñigo’s manhood, and took off his own jeans, exposing his underwear. A small tent could be seen inside, the last remainder of his old body. In an impressive display of strength, he turned Iñigo around, took off his underwear, and started to rub himself against the man’s hard bubble butt. He got on top of him, their faces meeting once again, and tenderly kissed the Mexican’s cheek whilst opening his way inside of Iñigo. The Mexican man grunted; the slight pain being swiftly replaced by pleasure jolts that travelled across his body. Michael started to pump harder, his own deep moans overshadowing the other man’s. The pressure in the student’s own member started to grow, filling it with more blood and filling it beyond its limit. Thrust after thrust the manhood grew, until Michael had a penis comparable to a wine bottle. Iñigo was squirming underneath the much bigger man, his body almost unable to handle so much pleasure. Michael’s balls swelled as well, dropping lower and hitting the Mexican’s hamstrings in a constant rhythm. The overexposure to new hormones changed Michael’s body further. Muscles aged, looking more lived in. His skin roughened up some more, and sprinkles of white extended all over his body hair. His hairline receded, and his mustache acquired a gray hue. Crow’s feet extended from his eyes, giving the man’s new age away. With a powerful thrust, he inundated the Mexican’s gut with his seed, both men screaming in ecstasy. He fell on top of Iñigo, who finished a couple of times on the table. Both men were sweating profusely, the scent of sex almost overtaking the wine’s fruity smell. They cuddled in silence for a bit, enjoying the last orgasmic ripples leaving their bodies. “So, I hope I could convince you to stay,'' said Iñigo, rubbing his face against the bigger man’s hairy chest. “How could I leave? This is my home.”, said Michael, the new memories slowly overwriting his old ones. After getting dressed, both men left towards the hotel. Iñigo entered the room with Michael, and the two of them joined in passionate lovemaking the rest of the night, with the pale moon as their only witness watching peacefully from the big windows. When Michael opened his eyes, he was standing on the top of a green hill. The sun was shining, and he could feel the fresh spring breeze on his face. On top of the hill was a tree, and underneath its shadow laid Will, with his arms behind his head and his gaze fixed on the sky, watching the white clouds pass. The student walked towards the tree, and sat in the shade next to him. “This is it? The end? For your life?”, asked Will without looking at Michael. “No, Will. This is a new opportunity.” “Lucky you. You still have an opportunity.”, answered Will sarcastically, looking at Michael’s peaceful face. “So, what’s gonna happen to me?” Michael took a deep breath, enjoying the almost forgotten peace he so much craved. “You’re going to live inside of me. All the memories, all the experiences, all the laughs and jokes and surprises will be forever in my heart. But also, the grief, the loss, the impotence. I will never forget what you taught me.” Will looked at Michael quizzically, a hint of doubt still lurking behind his eyes. “I need to tell you one last thing. I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry for not being the strong pillar you needed. I’m sorry for letting my own demons blind me from your pain. And most of all, I’m sorry for not expressing enough how accompanied you were. You were never alone. I need you to understand that. You were loved, and cared for. Despite what you might think, I was always there for you.”, said Michael, a tear slowly sliding down his cheek. “I forgive you. And, please, forgive me. I’m going to start a new life, and I need to let you go.” Will smiled, his somber demeanor fading away and leaving his usual playful side behind. “You were always the sentimental one. Fine, you have my blessing.”, he said standing up and heading down the hill. Before fading from view, he looked back at Michael. “You deserve to be happy. Glad you finally understood it.” And with that, he disappeared into the distance. Michael stood up and stretched. He felt the new weight on his body, and when he looked down he was greeted by his new form. His powerful chest was blocking his view from the lower side of his body, and he could feel his mustache quiver in the wind. He took one last breath, and let himself be swallowed by the sunlight. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer Michael, but Miguel. He looked to his side, to find Iñigo laying next to him, still sleeping. He got up and observed his surroundings. The room looked slightly changed, more lived in. The big closet was filled to the brim with different suits, boots and hats. The bathroom sink was full of lotions, creams and shaving utensils. Staring in the mirror he saw himself for the first time since the change. He looked imposing and regal, like a true gentleman. He stroked his thick mustache, feeling its softness with his fingers. He heard Iñigo groaning, so he headed into the room. Iñigo stared at him with his dark brown eyes, with the same infatuation from the first day they met. “Buenos días, amor,'' he said, getting up and planting a sweet kiss on the older man’s lips. Suddenly, Miguel’s mind filled in the holes of his new life. He was Miguel Rosales de la Fuente, owner of the hotel Real de Rosales, along with its vineyard and winery. A true staple in San Miguel de Allende’s society, and Iñigo de la Fuente’s husband. He felt the gold wedding ring on his finger, remembering the day he first saw Iñigo when he arrived in town almost thirty years ago. He was fresh out of university, and Iñigo was barely entering adulthood. He stayed in the de la Fuente’s family hostel, and soon grew fascinated with the town. He put his education to good use, and founded the winery. The hotel came afterwards, and soon the entire town revered him as a mentor. He was responsible for the many restoration processes all over town. He loved it, and did his best in keeping it in shape. Iñigo declared his love with many serenatas, and soon both men were tying the knot in an alternative ceremony. It was decades later when they were finally able to officialize their marriage, and they have been living and travelling the world ever since. Miguel liked to come back to town from time to time, always staying in his hotel. “Buenos días, cielo,'' said Miguel embracing the shorter man. “What’s your plan for today?” “I told Hector I would show him his new workout regime. The kid is growing big.” “I know, I’ve had to buy a couple of new uniforms for him this year alone.”, said Miguel flexing his biceps absentmindedly. “Mind if I join you? I need to let out some steam before the many scheduled reunions today. Gotta meet with the mayor for a new trash recycling plan, and if I don’t lift heavy, I’m going to have a difficult time keeping my temper.” “Sure! I’m certain Hector will appreciate having you around. Sometimes I feel you’re the one he takes seriously.” “It's probably because the mass impresses him!”, said Miguel laughing loudly, puffing out his chest. “You’re the expert in training, not me.” “That much is true. Let’s go then, you don’t wanna be late to your meetings. And we both know how much time you need to actually get ready.” Iñigo headed into the bathroom to wash himself, and Miguel approached the window, watching the whole vineyard before him. He really made a difference when he decided to stay in San Miguel de Allende. It was truly a magical town. He looked back at the bedside table. The onyx heart was laying there, its smooth surface glistening. Miguel smiled, thanking it quietly. Despite having adopted a new life, a last vestige of the person he used to be remained inside of him, to remind him how precious life was, and how you can always find a new destiny in the most unexpected places.

(This story plays in the same universe as Muscle Daddy. Just wasn't able to link them together, yet.) Part 1 Daddy Rent went out to the Big and Tall Men’s Clothing store DESTINATION XXL to buy some new clothes for work. He had heard about this store opening and was intrigued by its name. From afar he could clearly see the big letters XXL. Rent parked his big truck and walked to the store. At the entrance their slogan read “Nation's first men's big and tall clothing store for top brands in XXL sizes and up.” There were not many people in the store and the only visible worker turned out to be a tall cute twink. On walking in, the twink waved and said “Hello Sir and welcome to Destination XXL”. He was busy unboxing some items but kept looking my way. I walked around the store and also went a bit closer to him to check him out. He was wearing a store labeled shirt with the letters XXXL on it. Weird, didn’t the store only have XXL on it, Rent thought to himself. But looking at the rather skinny jeans, which left no imagination to how big his bulge is, he assumed it must have been a department joke or his lucky day. Rent walked through the aisles and ended up in the underwear section. The store sold extra large posers and underwear, exposed on overly muscled mannequins. Their muscles and monster bulges were visible to the shoppers and taking a better look at three mannequins standing closest to him he could clearly see the outline for their cock heads, the heavy balls and what looked like veins popping out. There was also a sign next to each mannequin with the size of the underwear and the cock. How strange Rent thought. He never saw a store portraying their clothes that way. “6ft 8, 7.5 inch cock, size XXL”, said the first one. The mannequin was of an amateur bodybuilder, big veins on his biceps and a really huge ass and legs. The second mannequin was shorter but more muscled and also more hung. The label read “6ft 1, 8.5 inch cock, size XXL”. But Rent couldn’t focus too much on the second, as the third mannequin took away his breath. “5ft 11, 10 inch cock, size XXXL”. Due to its normal height, the muscles looked even more ridiculously huge. A pro bodybuilder type with even bigger legs, huge chest and massive arms. But what really caught Rent’s attention was the bulge. It could have literally been considered a third leg due to its thickness and length. A big vein and a huge mushroom head were visible through the bulge. That’s all Rent had to read and see and see to tent up and somehow embarrassingly hide his really large erection. The owner of this store must be very conscious of bulge sizes and maybe also has some bulge or cock fetish. Once slowly gaining some self control again he keeps on walking through the aisles and ends up near the register. On the wall they had big condoms in several sizes. And they also had an open jar with the label “Try me on”, with several of the brands in it. Damn, where am I? How is this supposed to work. I am getting really aroused here. That’s when the hung twink worker comes around the corner and wakes Rent from his trance. “Can I help you with anything sir?” he said with a wide smile and absently adjusting his bulge, which Rent noticed right away. Damn this kid is definitely packing some serious meat. “Ah, no thank you. I just heard about this place from a friend and was just looking around a bit. Also saw those rather large mannequins. Never seen anything like that.” He waved at the mannequins in the underwear aisle but was secretly looking at the twinks bulge seemingly growing bigger. The twink looked at the mannequins he put up there yesterday, smiled, looked back at Rent and saw him checking him out. “Oh yes, it is one of our specialties. We specialize on XXL clothing and everything that comes with living a large life.” He smiled his killer smile again and almost looked like he winked with his eyes a bit when he said everything. “And judging by your size you seem to be in the right store all along. Our store is designed for extra-large male customers. Let me know if I can help you with anything in particular. I am here for you. Especially as there don’t seem to be other people here today. It was way busier on our opening day. My boss had trouble finding coworkers on such short notice so he had to come help out himself. Told him he shouldn’t be so picky on choosing new employees, but he is very selective. Lucky me. I totally fit his desired description.” Absentmindedly rubbing his bulge again. Rent had to stop starring or else he would grow hard again. “Well, I was looking for some new clothes for work and maybe some speedos for the beach, but I couldn’t find the beach aisle. I also have no idea what my actual stats are. Maybe you can help me out?” ... ______ As always feedback is welcomed. Any help continuing or contributing to the story line PM me.