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Vaccinated - A Continuation
mmvmgo2011 posted a topic in StoriesHi all. Been offline for WAY too long now. I hopefully have a bit of spare time again, so I’ve revisited some of the characters and continuing Vaccinated. (And, yes, I have other stories on the go - haven't forgotten.) If you haven’t read it, you’ll almost certainly get more out of this one if you read that one first. A refresher might be helpful too, as there will probably be lots of callbacks and interwoven story lines. Obviously heavy spoilers here if you haven’t yet read the first one. Consider this a continuation following on immediately from the events in the first story, before the Epilogue. Events here may or may not progress matters to the same point in that Epilogue - so a sort of alternate history. Hope you enjoy. As before, I only have a vague outline of a story - I’m making the rest of it up as I go along, so fair warning, the story could include almost anything. If you’re easily offended or triggered, then maybe avoid this one. I welcome any feedback and will work in any suggestions you might have as it goes along. Delivery will likely be a fair bit slower than in the past, but I’ll try my best to keep chapters coming in on the regular. ~~ONE~~ Jake’s timing was exquisite; perfection. He could feel the crescendo, the approaching tsunami about to break, and he wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to experience the pleasure his partner’s ejaculation was about to unleash on his dick. Undulating, peristaltic waves of muscular contractions milking his shaft, coaxing the breeding load from deep within his heaving, roiling balls. Jake’s cock fully plugged the tunnel, his cock’s sensitivity heightened by the tight embrace along the entire shaft from tip to pubic bone. He pulled back slowly, deliberately, the head of his massive cock raking against the tunnel’s walls, tweaking the prostate, eliciting a deep, resonant growl in his partner that vibrated throughout his entire body, increasing the sensations and bringing the coming flood to the brink. He stopped as the head reached the opening, enjoying the feeling of the ring of muscle quivering against his fraenulum, his partner’s growl increasing. Jake’s heavy, pendulous balls seethed, ready to unleash their prodigious load. Squatting slightly, he adjusted the angle of his cock so the head would smash his partner’s prostate as he rammed in all fourteen inches down to the pubic bone. The separate muscles of his massive quads stood out in stark relief, vascularity pulsating and engorged, the massive root running along his inner thigh branching out to feed power to every muscle. He flexed his cock, watching, enraptured, as it swelled even bigger, became even harder, the veins flooding it with blood, steeling the shaft and sending bolts of exquisite pleasure spreading throughout his godly body. Jake’s core tightened, the globes of his perfect arse contracting and squeezing as he slammed his cock in as far as it would go, and then further. As he smashed past the prostate, the tsunami was triggered. It was Jake’s turn to groan, as his partner’s orgasm and ejaculation began, massive waves spreading up his shaft, tingling, more bolts of electric pleasure sending him wild. As Jake slammed in as far as it would go, his balls slapped into his partner’s arse, his orgasm contracting and pulsating muscles throughout his pelvic floor. The hole clamped shut around the base of Jake’s shaft, a natural cock ring further swelling and hardening the already diamond-hard cock. As it swelled, his massive cock pushed harder against the walls of the tunnel, increasing the strength of the muscular contractions as it struggled to contain and eject the monster invading its depths. Jake’s eyes rolled back as his partner’s cock pumped out splashes of thick, creamy cum. As the first few arcs of cum splattered against his partner’s pecs and abs, a large glob settling in his thick, dark beard, Jake allowed himself to ejaculate, his own muscular contractions mingling with those of his partner, heightening their ecstasy. Jake’s balls, so eager to unleash their load, rose up, and his cock somehow swelled and hardened even more as his ejaculation began. The pressure exerted along the length of his cock, and especially by the ring of muscles clamped around the base of his shaft made it more difficult for his cum to make it through all fourteen inches, causing high pressure spurting jets of cum to spray deep within, the massive load contained by the swollen head plugging the tunnel. Even as they both continued ejaculating, Jake leaned in for a deep, passionate kiss, the taste of cum on his lips adding to his explosive wave of orgasms. *** “Get out,” Jake said, as he stood up and went to shower. “Fuck, mate,” he breathed heavily, still recovering from the orgasm, “you were mind blowi–” “I said, get out.” He didn’t even turn back. “Can I at least get your number? I don’t even know your name…” He trailed off, distracted by the incredible view of Jake’s naked body walking to the en suite. The X shape, his glorious arse cheeks, sitting atop massive ham-hock hamstrings, the sweep of his quads visible even from behind, his back muscles mounding and rippling as he walked, roadmap veins - everywhere he looked, splendour upon perfection. Jake ignored him. The cumrag, having served his purpose, already forgotten. Despite his swelling dick - how could you not get hard at that view, he thought? - he hurriedly dressed, the cum covering his abs and chest already drying, sticking to his shirt, and left. **** Brad, Amber and HE were sitting in Brad’s living room, regrouping and discussing the recent events and the fallout. “Can you still sense him?” Amber asked. They all knew which 'him' she was referring to. “Yes…” He hesitated, “…he’s having sex.” It was a very odd sensation, having his best friend’s subconscious as a stream in part of his brain. Despite everything, Amber and HE both blushed. Amber, in particular, was still trying to process her feelings about Jake. She could not let go of the fact that they meshed perfectly, their sex on a level she had never, and almost certainly would never, experience again. But, equally, she could not forget his treatment of her. His callous disregard, the violence against her without so much as a second thought. Yes, he was under the effects of the vaccine, but was that merely amplifying an existing tendency? She did not know, and the conflict was gnawing at her. What made it worse, she could never discuss it with him. Jake could not - must not! - ever know or be reminded of his rampage. They all feared if he learned what they did – what he did – that he would try to regain his abilities, and his reign of terror would resume. She nuzzled into Brad’s strong, comforting embrace, his Herculean arm around her. He was no Jake, it was true, but he was kind and loving, the sex was fantastic (though, of course, not the perfection she had with Jake), and his body was phenomenal. And, yet, she still could not shake the thought and feelings - he was no Jake. **** As Jake’s orgasm erupted in a corner of Brad’s brain, his own dick chubbed, and his mind wandered, lustful thoughts – of tits, of arse, of legs for days, of vascularity and muscle – flooded his brain, like cumshots pumping hot man cream, flooding holes. Amber nuzzled into him, the feel of her pert, luscious tits pressing into him causing lustful fire to tingle through him, making a beeline for his cock. He smiled. Not for the first time he silently thanked Jake, his best friend and, in many ways, his saviour. If Jake had not convinced him to break his vow of celibacy, he would not have met Amber. Not since Angelina had he felt such feelings for a woman. Amber would never replace Angelina - nobody ever could - but Amber was a mighty fine substitute.
mmvmgo2011 posted a topic in StoriesHi all Long time lurker. I thought I'd start a story that's been mulling around in my head for a while now. I'm still not sure where it's ultimately headed - though I'm hoping it won't go where you think it might. I have some ideas for the direction - but nothing concrete. There could be anything - so fair warning - if you're easily offended, or grossed out, or whatever, this may not be the thread for you. I'm planning on keeping each chapter fairly short, but hoping to post updates more often. It's my first ever story - so be kind, or not ... EDIT: I've purposefully not given our main protagonist a name, but will use uppercase HE/HIM/HIS to refer to HIM. I'm gradually editing each entry to fix this after the fact. Apologies if it's hard to follow. ******* CHAPTER ONE It was over. Well, IT wasn’t over, but the race to find a vaccine against the SARS-CoV-2 virus, the virus that caused COVID-19, was done. The company where HE worked had lost the race. There were five or six vaccine candidates approved worldwide, some mRNA based, some more traditional. HIS company had spent billions of dollars, and would never recoup those R&D losses releasing vaccine number six or seven, even if it was more effective. If only it was even slightly effective. The project was shelved and, indeed, the existence of the company itself was now under threat. Word had come down from on high that afternoon; a Thursday. The staff were shocked, but not particularly surprised. Everyone expected the axe to fall at some point — many surprised it took as long as it did. It was always a radical and ambitious plan. A plan that would pay massive dividends if it paid off - not only in immediate sales of vaccine, but in lucrative patents that would forever change vaccine development and progress medical science as we’d known it. As the old saying goes, if it’s too good to be true… A vaccine that reprogrammed the patient’s DNA so that the patient’s own immune system would produce the cells and antibodies necessary to fight the virus would not only prevent COVID-19 disease, it would also prevent transmission of the virus causing the disease, ending the pandemic once and for all. But that was small fry compared to future developments. No more influenza, common cold, herpes, HIV, Hepatitis… any infection known to man — virus, bacteria, fungi — would be cured. And even the big C, cancer. Well, it WAS ambitious. But it was not to be. Though the theory seemed sound, putting the theory into practice proved… challenging. Hundreds of billions of dollars were spent trying to make it work and, though there was some promising early results in vitro, every single tested animal had resulted in horribly disfigured or dead animals. Not exactly ready for initial human trials, let alone approval for final manufacture and sale. The bean counters and lawyers were still crunching the numbers and considering the options, but it seemed that so little progress had been made converting theory into practice that everything relating to the project, from samples to formulas, from notes to equipment, from methods to specialised equipment — everything — was effectively worthless.
The Man-Next-Pew (Chapter 6 added 1/3)
Guest posted a topic in StoriesHello there! Just joined recently and wanted to write a story, so this is my first attempt at it. This chapter will mostly be set up, so not a ton of action at this point but hopefully it will set the scene. If you're more interested in the action I would recommend skipping to Chapter 4, when it is complete. The other couple chapters beforehand are just a small bit of exposition for those interested but probably not completely necessary. Warning: this has some religious tones in it and if that makes you uncomfortable I would recommend not reading this. Chapter 1: I woke up to the sound of my alarm blaring in my ear. I absolutely hate that sound, jolting me out of a deep sleep. I had to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed, "come on John! Time to get up, you don't have time to lay around!" It was a Sunday morning and it was time to get ready to go to church. I sat up and stretched my body - flexing my toned 15 inch biceps as I contracted my arms. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror shirtless, just my tight underwear on. I flexed a little looking at my defined abs, nice set of pecs and toned arms on my 6' body. I'd really been hitting the gym for 5 days a week for quite a while, eating as often and as clean as I could. I was proud of my body at 28, I had worked really hard to improve my health and to maintain a weight of 185lbs. As much as I'd like to flex a bit I really had to get going - it was nearly time for church and I'd slept in a bit. I changed my underwear and put on a nice pair of khaki pants and a blue button-up shirt. The clothes weren't very form-fitting but I definitely could see some definition from my shirt. I styled my brown hair into a neat, handsome comb over. After brushing my teeth and lacing up my blue flat-footed shoes, I was ready to go! I stepped out of my small 1000sqft 2bed 1bath home. I climbed into my sedan and headed to church that was only a few minutes down to the corner. I've been going to Faith Church ever since I'd moved here to the South. The people there are very friendly and I always enjoy going to the services. It's especially been nice being a part of something since I've moved away from most of my social connections and family. I text back and forth but rarely ever see anybody in person. Honestly, sometimes it was hard to go. I'd been deep in the closet my whole life. I've known I've been attracted to men since a young age. I remember seeing men on underwear packages in the store looking at their muscled and defined torsos. Or shirtless men on the front of men's fitness magazines. I knew that I wanted to look just like that when I grew up. I am not really sure where the envy began and when the attraction started. Growing up in an evangelical background I felt so much shame and confusion around my own attractions. Yeah, I liked taking a look at men's bodies; I wanted to be desired and to desire another man. Being with someone was something my straight peers got to indulge in but in my context I would never be able to enjoy the same relationship. Not me. Honestly, it just filled me with a touch of sorrow. I had very deep connections with friends but now that I was separated by distance we have started to drift a part. It's made living here quite hard even though I needed to move here for my career. I can't say that I wasn't jealous of them too. They were all finding partners, getting married, having children. Meanwhile, I was drooling over meat heads at my local gym. Well after stewing over that less than savory stream of thoughts in my head for the thousandth time, I finally had arrived. There were small groups of families filling the front door of the church with stained glass panels all around the church. I quickly got out of my car and shuffled my way to my usual seat in the back corner of the church. No one really talked with me apart from a few waves and "Hey John!" 's since church was just moments from starting as the piano player began playing a hymn. I settled into my seat, looked through the bulletin, and opened my Bible. I started looking around to see if the pastor was getting ready to welcome everyone to church. Just as the music slowed and the pastor stood up a MAN walked by and sat just in front of me. I didn't quite get a good look of his face but he had a thick head of well-styled, faded brown-hair with just a few strands of gray here and there. He was wearing a really nice smelling aftershave. And he was absolutely fucking massive. He was wearing a tighter red and grey shirt made of a cotton fabric, but the definition of his muscles couldn't be hidden. His traps were huge and encroached upon his girthy neck whose muscles flexed and moved with every little adjustment. I could see his big delts and wife back that fanned out giving him an imposing figure. The pastor began speaking, "welcome everyone. Let me go over a few announcements..." I couldn't pay attention whatsoever. I began to clam up and my dick began to engorge. I looked around and thankfully no one was near me. I was getting a full hard-on in church, as I placed my bulletin over my pants to hide my thick boner from popping out of my pants. Should I be thinking of another man this way in the middle of church? "Please stand and turn to hymn 330. 330" the music director said in a booming, hearty voice. I quickly scrambled for the hymnbook and stood up pushing my dick against the pew in front of me. While the beautiful specimen of a man stood up simultaneously. I quickly looked at his body. His body had a very pleasant shape with his wide back slimmed into his midsection. His shirt was tucked in to a nice pair of tight-waisted gray pants. His glutes bulged out of his pants and his quads were noticeable in the upper part of his pants. I sang along to the hymn but kept getting distracted by the extremely attractive man in front of me. I began to feel a little bit guilty about lusting after this man in church. But this was the story of every person I've been allured to. They were a nice piece of meat for me to look at but remained a forbidden fruit. Men were nice to fuel my fantasies but never to be had. It was frustrating. I thought to myself, "John pull yourself together. Pay attention. Pay attention. Pay attention." But I just can't. The entire service I hardly paid attention to the pastor giving a sermon, any of the liturgy, or the multiple songs. The whole service was my sexual frustration running through my head over and over again. Eventually the whole congregation stood up as the pastor prayed a long and winding closing prayer to dismiss us. It was strange having my head up in the clouds the entire service. All I could think about was what the front of this man looked like as I could hardly even get a side profile. "... Amen." the pastor said loudly, as the congregation replied, "Amen." "You are free to go," he said as the whole congregation gathered their items and began to get ready to depart for home or a restaurant. The man in front of me turns around to gather his items from the pew. He was even more perfect than my mind could conjure up during the service. He was around 5'9" and weighed around 230lbs. Man, was he handsome. He looked to be around his mid-30s. His hair was quite immaculate, and he kept a very short beard on his face tracing out a strong, chiseled face. He had dashing, kind, deep blue eyes. His lips were full and formed a joyful smile. His pecs filled out his tucked in shirt quite nicely, as a sligh outline of his nipped poked through his shirt. I had to jump at my chance immediately. I immediately blurted out, "Uh. Hello sir! My name is John it's nice to meet you." He looked up with a large smile and confidently brought out his veiny hands to shake mine. I obliged and shook his powerful hands. He gripped my hand confidently. "It's nice to meet you John. My name is Charlie!" he said in a deep, confident voice. "Well, we're glad you came this morning Charlie. I hope you found the service to be uplifting!" I said with a slight nervousness in my voice. I was in the precense of one of the most handsome men on earth, it was hard for me not to be. "Oh, yeah. I loved it. I thought the sermon was quite thought-provoking. I just moved to the area, so I have been visiting some churches here and there." Charlie replied, leaning on the pew behind him and cross his arms, causing his forearms to flare up underneath his shirt. " Oh, well, I am new to the area too. If you're looking for a friend maybe we could trade numbers and explore the city together?" I said with eager anticipation. "Oh, well that actually sounds great! I haven't really found anybody to hang out with yet and being single it's been kinda hard to adjust to everything here." My heart just melted. I can't believe that this was actually working. Maybe this was all just a bad idea, getting this close to an absolute hottie was a mistake. But there was no way I'd pass up getting to know this dude. I quickly handed him my phone, opened my contacts, as he did the same for me. I typed my information into his phone. "I'll text you sometime this week, dude! I gotta head out here soon but we'll figure out some time to hang out." Charlie said, shaking my hand again. It amazed me how confident and friendly he was. He was so comfortable in his own body. He was just the type of man I dreamt of when I was younger. He typified everything I loved about men and their personalities and body. The rest of the day my thoughts were occupied with nothing but Charlie. I've been so good about not jacking off, watching porn, or lustful thoughts. But Charlie completely derailed that and threw me for a loop. I edged the whole day thinking about his body. Eventually before I went to bed I completed my nightly routine of taking a shower and planning out my next day. I stripped off all my clothes down to my underwear. My dick was so hard, as I looked down at my bulge in my underwear. I began to rub myself through the fabric. It had been so long since I'd released any sexual tension and I was ready to burst. I pulled my underwear down releasing my dick as it flopped out onto my flat stomach. I began to think of Charlie stripped down to his underwear. His strong muscles drenched with sweat and pumped up beyond belief. His handsome, manly face looking down at his ripped body, heavily breathing as his chest quickly expanded and collapsed. "So... Fucking... Handsome... Uufffffhh" It was too much to think about much further. I began to cum all over my own body. The orgasm was one of the most intense I'd ever had before. I was so tired afterwards I didn't even want to clean myself up. It all felt so guilty but felt so amazing. I fell asleep with my cock out and cum all over my body...
complete novel MadMutter’s Thicker than Water — Chapters 1-8
scarletic posted a topic in StoriesMadMutter's Thicker than Water by Scarletic Table of Contents Chapter 1: Of Funerals and Vacations Chapter 2: Two Sides of a Coin Chapter 3: Night at the Museum Chapter 4A: It Came From... Chapter 4B: What Happens in the Dark Chapter 5: This Tall to Ride Chapter 6: Homecoming Kings Chapter 7: Max Occupancy Chapter 8: They Might Be Giants 1 Of Funerals and Vacations When Jolias’ grandmother passed away, he didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation to claim his inheritance. It was, after all, free money. Along with whatever fabulous goodies she’d set aside for him. Suddenly having enough rent for the next few months, especially when he needed two part-time jobs to make ends meet, was a no-brainer decision. Chicago wasn’t exactly the most affordable place to be living in, he’d realized. He wasn’t sure when he was — or if he was ever — going to return to Peru, but metaphorically looting his dead caregiver’s corpse wasn’t on his list of reasons why. The four years he’d been gone had done away with any memories of home. Names stuck, like his hometown of Copacabana at Lake Titicaca, but visuals and everyday details were gone, shelved away, and left to be forgotten. He’d even managed to scrape his tongue clean of the accent. Only the fear of meeting his parents again, of reliving the trauma they’d put him through, of remembering why it was he left Peru in the first place, haunted him. He wasn’t too fond of how he couldn’t have his new self-appointed name on his passport — Jolias Castor. Instead, it read like a tongue-twister, one that no one in the USA ever dared to attempt: Julias Castillo-Moreno. Next to it, his often-called “face of an angel,” with his rich coffee skin, button nose, and unkempt black hair. He preferred it messy. It distinguished him from the rest. The only person who’d ever gotten his name right (and on the first try) was his best friend. A fellow homosexual and expat from Germany, Maxwell Voigt was only two years older at 24 and working part-time as a café barista. They were close, met at the local pride parade, and kept in contact ever since. It was almost a match made in heaven. Almost. That was the important bit. Jolias couldn’t reciprocate Max’s attraction. Not when the latter was adamant about refusing to stick to the personalized workout routine Jolias had made for him. It was a struggle on both their parts, coming to terms with the other’s shortcomings. But it passed, as all things do. Jolias stuck to the gym where he worked part-time and built himself up to a nice 151 pounds at his humble 5-foot-6. Max, on the other hand, didn’t mind the extra bit of blubber on his 5-foot-11 frame, putting him at a not-as-solid 216 pounds. In his head, it made him look cuddlier, more touchable, something he wished Jolias wasn’t so averse to. Nevertheless, Max welcomed the chance to take a vacation to South America at Jolias’ behest. They both wanted company, each other’s specifically, even if it were for different reasons. The Economy section they’d been shoved in for seven hours wasn’t ideal, especially not when the crying children and obnoxious tourists seemed unable to shut their damn mouths. Jolias and Max rejoiced at the stop-over in Colombia, a momentary respite from their overpriced hell. Max wiped the sweat from his brow as he took in the spacious interior of the Jose Maria Cordova international airport. “I didn’t know it was already going to be so hot.” The cafeteria was packed with enough plant pots to outnumber their plane’s passengers, and the arched glass ceiling didn’t make the air any cooler. “Are you sure we didn’t book a trip to the desert?” “Sweating already?” Jolias sniggered as he whipped out his phone. 22°C. “It’s just a few degrees off Chicago’s usual. Probably just feels hotter because of the humidity.” Max let out a huff. “Or maybe it’s because you’re here.” “Ha-ha.” Jolias lifted both their carry-ons as they made their way out of the airport. Each bag was nearly the size of his whole torso, but he held them with an ease and grace Max knew he could never muster. “Just don’t make those same jokes when you meet my parents,” Jolias said. “You may be a cute boy-next-door, but they’re not going to be so nice when they know you’re gay too.” Max nodded, tugging and fanning himself with the now-wrinkled collar of his shirt. “I won’t. I told you.” “We’ll just be there for the celebration, then take the money, and then we head back before they even realize we’re gone.” As they breached through the glass doors and stepped onto the driveway, the inflamed white flare of the sun was an unwelcome heat lamp that stung on Max’s skin and burned through his glasses. “I wouldn’t mind if we headed back now, actually. You didn’t tell me it was going to be so hot,” Max said. “I don’t even think I packed my graded glasses with me.” “Get a grip, Germany. You’ve got that Übermensch legacy to live up to. We aren’t even in Peru yet. We are literally at the tip of the iceberg of South America.” Jolias stopped and spun on his heel, holding out Max’s overstuffed satchel in one hand. “Though if you carry your own bag the rest of the way, I won’t stop you from complaining.” Max let out a sigh and — with great apprehension — took his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. He may have been pudgy, but the broadness of his shoulders still stretched further than his love handles. “Fine. I just hope you know you’re missing out on a quality workout.” “Please. My bag is more than enough weight. I doubt your chips and extra clothes are going to be much of a challenge if you don’t start stuffing that thing with rocks.” Jolias quickened his pace, smiling to himself as he watched Max drag behind him. Max, already catching his breath, made a light sprint to catch up. “That depends on what kinds of rocks we’ll find. Where are we going again? This stop-over is only for a few hours, you know.” “It’s a place one of my clients recommended. Guatapé, I think. Said it’s full of lakes and rivers. Might be your kind of place since you used to be a swimmer.” Max groaned. “Key phrase is ‘used to be.’ Is there anything else I’m supposed to be excited for?” Jolias winked over his shoulder. “Stairs. I know you love ‘em. 740 steps’ worth.” “Oh, my god.” Lifting his head up, Max opened his mouth and faced the clear blue sky, eyes shut in defeat. “This trip is going to be the death of me.” “My grandmother’s, actually.” Jolias pressed Max’s jaw shut against his skull. “And close your mouth. You’re going to let the flies in.” ◊ ◊ ◊ Max had always known South Americans weren’t the tallest people around, but it was a tad unnerving to see so many eyes needing to look up to meet his gaze. It was always either the women or Jolias, never the men — especially not all of them at once. He found comfort in the few caucasian tourists who didn’t make him feel quite so large, so obtrusive. The track he and Jolias trekked on was a long, winding dirt path that twisted and cut into the hillside. They were surrounded by enough palm trees to make New York’s Central Park a flower garden in comparison. Blades of grass crunched under his boots as he followed Jolias to the mountainous rock a few kilometers away, tucked in the heart of a tourist village perched next to a crystalline lake of sapphire blue. If he hadn’t known what Germany looked like, he might’ve confused Guatapé for paradise — only several degrees hotter. Max ran his fingers through his mocha hair, twirling each dried-out strand in his fingers. He thought if he’d rubbed them hard enough, they’d ignite like tinder. “Hey, are you sure we have to climb up that thing?” he asked, pointing at the hill in the distance, decorated on one side with a devilish flight of stairs. “I don’t have an insurance plan.” Jolias, once again holding both carry-on bags (as Max handed it back at some point during the minibus ride), sniggered. “What did I say about complaining? You’ll be fine.” “Just because I’m German doesn’t mean I descended from Nordic gods. If I die, I die.” “Then I guess I get the full share of my inheritance. I’ll send your landlord my regards.” “Can’t I just stay down in that town where it’s safe?” Max fanned himself with a small banana leaf he’d picked up somewhere along the trail. “A swim in that lake sounds really good right now.” He scanned his gray shirt, now darkened with sweat on his chest and armpits. “Plus, I think I need to change into something a bit darker. I’m sweating like a priest at a schoolhouse.” Jolias lightly flicked him on the nose. “I warned you about the exercise. You’re either coming up there with me and taking my photos or losing your mortgage. Pick your poison.” The rocks rolled to the side as he kicked them aside with every step. “You are evil. Fine. But if I pass out halfway up, you better throw me in that lake.” Jolias looked back at his best friend and patted him on the shoulder, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight and his smile curved into a mischievous little wrinkle. “I can do that, yeah. I deadlift your weight for fun. I just hope you aren’t afraid of heights.” Max gulped, much to Jolias’ amusement. “Don’t worry. Once we get our photos, we’ll take a nice dip in the lagoon. We’ve still got a few more hours of sun to kill before we have to get back for our flight. Marco’s going to murder me if we aren’t at Lima by tonight.” Max’s face melted into worry, the smile he’d been propping up disappearing at the mention. Marco. ◊ ◊ ◊ In all the years he’d spent part-timing as an accountant and personal trainer in Chicago, Jolias never got around to appreciating Lake Michigan. It was clean. It was large. But there was always something about the concrete jungle that wrapped around it and blotted the horizon that didn’t sit too well with him; at first, he thought it was the color gray he didn’t like. Then, he figured it was the noise and smog of the city. In the back of his mind, it might have even been the people who died trying to swim in it. He refused to accept that he may have just missed the green of his homeland. Standing at the top of the rock (not quite a hill) that towered over Guatapé and taking in the magnificence of natural South America for the first time in years, Jolias found himself floating — the tropical scent of jungle mildew wafting in the breeze, the twinkle of the golden sun on the winding lakes. For a moment, albeit brief, he felt relief. From the stresses of monthly rent, of clients, of seeing his family again. If there was any silver lining, it was the chance to reconnect with nature. And, perhaps, his twin brother. “This is so much better than the city.” Jolias leaned against the railing overlooking the town and pristine lake below, letting the cool air brush through his hair. “Are you going to let me take your photo yet or what?” Max said, shivering. “These old people are pestering me.” Jolias’ face read almost absent, immersed in the serenity of nature, of his home. He turned and rested his back and elbows against the rusted blue fence, facing the glare of the sun head-on and smiling for Max. The way he stood caused his developed chest to protrude from his paper-thin dri-fit shirt, stirring his #1 admirer’s senses almost manipulatively well. “I hate it when you smile at me like that,” Max groaned. Jolias preened at the mention. “I can’t help it. God-given looks and all that.” Max took his photos of Jolias, and Jolias of Max. They’d barely been out of the USA for half a day, and, already, Max was beginning to roast from the heat, donning a light pink instead of his usual snow-white skin. “I really should’ve put on more sunblock.” Jolias tugged Max’s wrist and led him back down the 740-step staircase. “You could use the tan. Now come on. Let’s go for a dip. I’m itching to get wet.” Max, picking up his own carry-on from the ground (passed back at some point in the climb), sighed. His nether region was getting uncomfortably tight. His six-incher wasn’t exactly petite. “Way ahead of you there.” ◊ ◊ ◊ The two walked along the tourist-made path that shot through the forest-canopied expanse of lakes. Even without the bird’s eye view, it was a postcard-worthy hike. Max had never experienced nature to this extent before. He’d been born in the city, raised in it, and believed — though prematurely — that he would never get to see a forest in person, to live out his childhood fantasy of a log cabin in the woods. Pure isolation from the needless bustle of everyday life. Of living in a society he never chose, never belonged in. It was something he was reminded of whenever he was with Jolias. That same familiar longing. Being with him felt like that to Max: living in a log cabin. A place to call home. Someone whose fire kept him warm when the winter nights were coldest. Even as he lagged behind his fit friend’s impossibly athletic pace, he couldn’t help but admire the way he seemed to glow amid the rays of light that pierced through the trees. He moved as a nymph would, back where he belonged. “This is a lot more beautiful than my desktop wallpaper makes these types of places out to be,” Max said, picking a hot pink flower from a low tree branch. He loved the way it looked. And he loved the way Jolias looked. From behind, especially. “Wait! Slow down.” Jolias turned on his heel and lowered both their carry-ons. “What now? Are you going to offer to carry your bag again before giving it back?” He pushed his hair back and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Max caught up and stopped inches away from Jolias. “I wouldn’t think of it.” They could smell each other’s musk, the other man’s sweat, the perfume of their breath. They were both shirtless. With a gentle hand, Max took Jolias’ hair and tucked the flower on the valley of his ear. “Not when you look like an angel.” Blushing, Jolias covered his face with a vacant hand. “You’re so damn flirty.” Readjusting his shorts, he lifted both their bags and continued his trek. “Come on. That cave you saw is just around the corner here.” “Right behind you.” Max and Jolias turned the corner and stared at the perfectly circular maw of what looked like a chute built into the cliffside. The inside was damp and lined with gray clay. Water still fed into it from the river, but where it went, neither man could tell: the stream disappeared into the darkness of the earth, echoing despite its silence. It looked larger from where he’d seen it going down the stairs of that vantage rock, Max thought. Up close, the hole was going to be a tight squeeze for a man his size. He envied Jolias sometimes. Tight spaces weren’t exactly his comfort zone. Jolias ran a hand across its surface, letting the clear waters run through his fingers before they disappeared down the hole. “It’s nice and slippery.” He dug a finger into the clay and stared at the buildup that had collected on his nail. “Gross.” He looked down at where he’d scraped and discovered that he’d exposed the material underneath. It looked ivory. Not quite stone. Though not quite metal. “I wonder what this cave used to be.” “Are you going to go in there?” Max asked. “Hey, you found it, Columbus. Your prize awaits down the rabbit hole.” Max washed himself in the river before approaching Jolias. Standing next to someone with such chiseled musculature when he looked like a sack of pudding wasn’t very confidence-boosting. But, as he knew, Jolias was never the judgmental type. Not when he’d had his own fair share of men. While Max didn’t inspire awe, he was still Jolias’ favorite friend. But that’s all he ever was. “Do I look like a white rabbit to you? Jo-Alice in Wonderland.” Jolias rolled his eyes and gently moved his firm hand down Max’s soft back, urging him subtlely closer towards the hole. “I don’t know what you expect to find down there, but it’s no upelkuchen. A skeleton, maybe. But cake? Nah.” Before he could even question it, Max was already kneeling and squeezing his legs, prepping to slide down. “The only cakes I want are yours.” “You had your chance.” Max frowned. “But—“ Jolias slapped him on the back, sending him flying down the lubricated slide before he could even finish his sentence. MEANWHILE The German man’s yelling echoed like a death squelch for several seconds before it punctuated with a profound splash. It was impossible to tell how deep it went. Especially not when Max was so silent. The echoing had ceased, and Jolias couldn’t even hear a whisper of a sound coming from the hole. “Are you dead?” Jolias cried. “The water’s cold as fuck! But I think I see an exit. Get down here! And be careful with the bags!” Jolias squeezed himself into the hole, sitting in the same impression Max’s cheeks had left in the clay. He stared at the exposed material again and wondered what it was. Oddly, it reminded him of Peruvian cuisine. He was no stranger to chicken bones and beef bone marrow, and something told him it was no different to whatever it was he was about to send himself flying down. A giant bone? He thought. But that query could wait. “Jol’? Are you coming down here or what?” He snapped out of it. “Coming.” And sent himself into the void. Thankfully, he had prior experience jumping off cliffs and into the ocean. The protocols to avoid getting his balls crushed by the water were second nature to him. When the chute ended, it took him a second to realize he was free-falling. But he kept his posture, maintained his stance, kept one hand on his groin and one on his nose. The splash he made wasn’t as large — or as loud — as Max’s. He was as a needle piercing the calm fabric of the water’s surface. He opened his eyes in the freezing waters and found wisps of light poking through a crack in the ground above. They were in an underground cave, an aquifer, most likely. It didn’t seem like anyone had been down there in years. Decades. Instead of souls, he found boulders and stalagmites. But someone was missing. “Max?” Jolias asked, spinning in the water. He looked up. Down. Found nothing but rocks and shadows. Not even the floor below. A frozen hand latched onto his ankle before he could blink. In his panic, he kicked something that felt soft, felt breakable under the water. “What the fuck?!” Coming up for air, Max massaged his bleeding nose and released a handful of crimson into the spring water. It was difficult to see anything in the dark, but Jolias couldn’t ignore the red strips escaping from his friend’s face, not when his own eyes were wide with shock. “I can’t believe you kicked me id da face!” Max cried, nasally, splashing Jolias with a wave. “Oh, god, by dose.” “Jesus! I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you! I swear.” Jolias raised his hands in defense. Not from Max’s words, but the water. Another splash. “Who else vas it going to be? A nazi zo’bie? A Russian superbodel?” Max snorted out the last of the blood into the water and jostled it. “First the water shoots up my damn nose and crushes my balls, and then you kick me in the face. Lovely. If you plan on assaulting my dick next, I,”—Max’s face went somewhere pleasant—"actually—“ “Don’t finish that sentence.” “Fine.” Jolias slapped a hand on Max’s wet shoulder and hopped behind him, posturing himself for a piggy-back lift. “You’ll be fine. Now, go, princess.” Jolias lifted an arm, pointing at the exit atop a short climb. “Take us to the exit.” “Nuh-uh. Not yet!” Max gripped both Jolias’ calves and leapt backwards into the water, submerging them both. The two roughhoused for the better part of an hour. Neither ever wanting to leave the cave. Both their carry-ons had gotten ruined. But they didn’t notice. In fact, they wouldn’t’ve cared. Max and Jolias took turns plunging each other into the water, never quite enjoying a full breath of air before being thrown and wrestled and slam-dunked. They weren’t sure when the glowing wisp in the water’s reflection started to move on its own. “What is that?” Jolias pointed at something moving in-between them. Seafoam green, Jolias described it. To Max, it resembled something more akin to blue sperm. It wiggled and darted through the water like a bullet, passing around their limbs and gracing them with light contact. Jolias wasn’t expecting to find anything sentient when he slid down the hole. But there it was. Something so alien, so slime-like, slippery and malleable to the touch, yet impossible to hold. At some point, it disappeared from Max’s sight. “Shit. Where’d it go?” “You can’t find it?” Jolias swam over and showered Max’s dried hair in a handful of water. He shook his head, readying himself to dive. “I’ll see if I can find it. If I don’t come up in three minutes, feed Whiskers for me.” Max took a deep breath, puffing out his stomach and cheeks, and plunged himself beneath Jolias’ careless feet. Jolias wasn’t sure what Max was hoping to find, but the former hoped it wouldn’t’ve been another broken body part. Jolias hadn’t said a word in the time Max was gone. Instead, he swam to the nearby gravel shore where they’d tossed their bags and pair of glasses and dressed up. A dry exit had revealed itself in their brouhaha, and he couldn’t wait to leave. After two minutes, Max emerged from the water — head first — and trudged through the water towards Jolias on his tip-toes. “Couldn’t find it.” “At least I won’t have to dig up your body. Now come on. We have to go. Our flight’s coming up.” The water cascaded down Max’s body as he stepped onto the gravel, shaking his hair. “Wait. Not yet.” Jolias hopped to his feet and rolled his eyes. He was primed, ready to go. The yellow shirt he wore clung tightly to his torso; its orange sun distorted because of his chest and abs. “What is it now? I’m tired of playfighting.” Max stopped a foot away and let the rest of the water sink into the gravel. Standing still, he reached an absent hand down towards his crotch and grabbed a handful of his cock. Jolias knew Max’s body well enough to know that he was never quite so… endowed. His black shorts were jutting out from his waist almost unnaturally so. As if he’d stuffed it with socks. Several pairs of. “I think something’s wrong with my dick,” Max muttered. He was met with a snigger. “What’s new?” “No, I mean it! I think there’s something up with it.” Max pinched the two ends of his shorts and readied to pull them down and expose his nether. Jolias stopped him with a lightning-quick hand. The smaller Peruvian man had seen Max’s crotch before (they compared sizes at a party once), but they were intoxicated then. And not hundreds of feet deep in a prehistoric aquifer, surrounded by virgin spring water host to who-knows-how-many bacteria. Before Max could question Jolias’ hesitation, a blue glow appeared in both their eyes, and they looked down to find the source. Emanating from Max’s pouch. “You’re right. That— that isn’t normal.” MEANWHILE Letting out a whimper, Max shook his head and dropped his shorts to his ankles. They both stared at the very same glowing organism they’d encountered in the water. “What the fuck…” Max whispered. It was worm-like yet texture-free, smooth to the touch, wet and slimy and coiled tightly around his six-inch penis. He looked to Jolias with quivering eyes. “Get it off me…!” he whispered in a panic. His cheeks were already going red. “I’m not touching that thing! We need to get you to a doctor. It might pop your dick if it gets any tighter.” Max pouted. A flurry of sensual titillations washed over him in that moment. He felt his body heat start to rise. “No… I—I don’t think it’s…”—he moaned—“I don’t think it’s bad.” He coiled inwards, compressing his torso, reaching out to grab the blue-greenish snake but stopping, twitching. “This actually feels kind of good.” The organism strained momentarily, like a firm grip’s squeeze, and released, causing Max to release the stress built-up on his face. The blush went hot, even in the dark. With one eye open, Max gasped in pleasure. “Fuck… it feels like it’s giving me a handjob or something.” Jolias froze. He was only watching as his best friend’s hardening member was being serviced by something they’d never seen before. “Max?” But the taller man stayed silent. The contractions continued as the slime demanded Max’s blood rush into his penis, now a pillar that rose and protruded from his waist. The warmth rippling through his balls appeared intoxicatingly paralyzing. It was taking him all he had to keep himself upright, his eyes open as he stared at Jolias, whose hands quivered with hesitation. The mushroom head of Max’s cock looked ready to burst after a minute of lubed hands-free masturbation. “Holy fuck… It’s gonna make me—“ Max’s train of thought was cut off. Before he could unleash the load he’d built up, the entity unraveled itself and darted into the slit of his penis. There was a moment of concern as Max watched the slit of his cock be pried open. Yet, despite his initial assumption, there was no pain. Only the opposite: a gentle force that throbbed and bore the sensation of squeezing his cock from within. Even if he wanted to speak, there wasn’t much to say. Both he and Jolias only watched as the slime slithered up Max’s shaft, pulsating, and slipped into his mushroom head. It was almost torturous. The pleasure was overwhelming both the inside and outside of his penis, and his mind flashed white with surreal disbelief. Max’s eye twitched as he glanced at his best friend who’d taken a step back in fearful fascination. “Jol’…” The building, tightening pressure in his shaft as the slime continued to pour itself into it forced Max to wince. “Is this really happening?” Jolias asked, gawking mouth open. As more and more of the slime seemed to endlessly make its way into Max’s genitals, another sensation piled on top of his already overwhelming nerves. His eyes were on the ceiling, yet he felt the slime pulsate in his urethra, demanding more space, stretching out his six-inch cock like a balloon. Despite the abnormality, there was still no pain. It was as though the slime were incapable of it. Max shuddered second after second as it continued to throb and push against the outer limits of his penis, making enough room to accommodate all of it, its movements, its pulses, almost like a heartbeat. Before Max could even lower his head to examine what was happening, a jolt of energy akin to a caffeine shot jolted his system. He was overloaded with energy yet held prisoner by the growing ecstasy. As more and more of the slime disappeared into his genitals, he could feel each and every gram that compounded in his balls, making them heavier, thicker. And still, the tail end of the slime continued to squeeze him from within, egging him towards release, demanding it. His cock continued to swell inches larger and girthier and heavier. The slime sent a final wave of intoxicating power as it moved down from his shaft and settled in his balls, now engorged and loaded with cum and slime. He’d thrown his head back, lost to the ecstasy. The heat pulsating from his testicles was sending his adrenaline into overdrive. Jolias stared at the much larger penis in stupefied horror. Max had only ever seen a cock that size once before, and that was in a porno. The ivory-white tool had lengthened to over double Jolias’. And it was still fully erect. MEANWHILE “Max?! Are you okay? That thing just—“ But he wasn’t there — not mentally. His glazed eyes twitched, but Jolias could still see through the mirth, flashing a quick purple before returning to their absent state, nothing going on behind them. All he heard were heaving moans, guttural breaths, and the running of his fingers as he touched himself feet away from Jolias. Jolias wasn’t sure which to address first. The fact that his best friend’s fuckstick looked obscene? Or the way his balls looked big enough to rival baseballs? Or that a living glob of slime just slithered into Max’s shaft? He broke out into a cold sweat just thinking about it. When the convulsions seemed to stop, solidifying the newly grown state of Max’s pumped member, he let out a groaning moan. Max motioned as if to ejaculate. But there was nothing. Only hot air and the faintest drops of cum came sputtering out, dotting the gravel beneath them in white. “Jol’…” Jolias wiped the sweat off his brow and approached his friend, a peripheral eye keeping close watch of the softening cock. It didn’t seem to be losing any inches, staying the same size it’d been when it became a host. “Welcome back to reality. Are you alright?” Max sighed and walked over to his bag. “I just came. I think. I—“ He bent over and dug his face into his bag, scavenging for a dry shirt to wear but never settling. “Have you ever seen anything like that before?” “I don’t know. No? Nothing I can think of looked anything like that slimy worm thing.” Max scoffed, tossing a loose white shirt over his head and slipping it on. It didn’t hug him well. He didn’t care. “Great. I’ve got some new species of snake gurgling around in my balls. I’m gonna give the British Museum a run for their money. Do you think there’s a doctor on the plane I could ask?” The gray shorts he wore did nothing to compress his now-plus-sized cock and balls. Even with his boxers, it was a tight fit, poking out from his sweats. Jolias tossed his bag over his shoulder and stepped towards the incline headed towards the hole in the ceiling. “A doctor in philosophy, maybe. I mean, we could ask, but I doubt we’ll find anyone.” He sighed. “We’ll probably have more luck in Lima. Marco might know someone.” “Uh…” Max froze, a brief furrow appearing on his forehead at the mention. He stopped himself before the wrinkles settled. But Jolias already noticed. “You’re worrying about nothing. He won’t get in the way. I told you.” He dug his fingers into the cracks in the cave wall. And climbed. “Now, are you coming? Or are you going to stay here and sulk and be petty with that huge slime hotel of a dick of yours?” Max sighed, dropping his shoulders, dragging his sneakers across the gravel. One eye on Max, the other on the aquifer. There were no more unusual glowing organisms slithering around in the water. Just as there were no answers. But those could wait. “I’m coming.” Jolias paused and snickered. “You already did.” ◊ ◊ ◊ The security officer conducted a full-body check and held his breath the moment his hand cradled what he’d initially thought to be a grenade. One haphazardly shoved inside Max’s underwear. Everyone was watching, waiting, wondering what was holding up the line. Their flight had been called. All eyes were on Max. Jolias waited in the tunnel, ignoring the putrid gazes of impatient passengers who couldn’t wait a second longer. “You’re—“ the officer gulped, eyes shaking as he turned to the flight attendant holding the ticket, as his wandering gaze left an imprint in Max’s mind. “You’re good to go, sir.” With a firm nod, Max took his bag and followed Jolias through the tunnel. People rushed by, a display of passive-aggression, bumping and elbowing their way past the two. “Come on,” Jolias ushered. “Let’s get seated.” Max kept his head low, making every attempt to appear smaller, to disappear in the crowd, to be forgotten. The trek back to the airport had been hell. It had been a mistake to wear gray sweatshorts, especially when his genitals resembled smuggled fruits. Though, in a way, he technically was smuggling something. Something alive. And it wasn’t wasting any effort in making its presence known. People both native and foreign to Colombia glanced at him wherever he went — though not in his eyes. At his junk. Max had tried everything to keep himself under control. But it was impossible keeping his swollen python down, especially when it hardened whenever he so much as caught Jolias at the corner of his eyes. They got into their seats — Max enjoying the window, Jolias the center. He glued his face to the glass, refusing to acknowledge his current reality until he was back on solid ground. South America was a natural, picturesque haven. But he couldn’t enjoy it knowing something had tampered with the biology of his genitals. MEANWHILE Jolias didn’t know what to do. He’d invited his friend with the sole intention of offering him a vacation and a share of his inheritance. There was nothing in the agreement about this. He lifted the armrest separating them, but Max only grumbled in reply. “N— not right now, Jol’. It was hard enough sneaking this thing through security. I don’t want you making this,”—he slapped his semi-hard cock—“this thing any harder than it already is. It might tear a hole through my damn shorts. For fuck’s sake…” he trailed off. “I’m sorry this is happening. I promise, as soon as we land, we’ll get you to a doctor.” “In Lima? I’ll pass.” “What? Why? You’ve been complaining about that thing in your balls the entire walk back. Would you prefer to keep that thing inside you?” Max stayed silent. “I know it’s not exactly first world down here, but the people are still more than capable of helping.” Jolias settled back in his seat, lowering the armrest. “I already texted Marco,” he muttered. “He said there’s someone who could help. Just… give them a chance?” He patted Max’s shoulder, subconsciously drawing his face towards him. In that instant, Max’s heated expression softened back to its innocent state, replacing his barista-esque charm. A smile emerged, albeit weak. “Alright. Fine. I just hope whatever is in me…” he moaned, “stops swirling around in my fucking balls. People have been staring at me, you know. It’s not exactly easy hiding a hard ten-incher.” Jolias opened his mouth to speak, but the older American woman next to him cut him off. “Would you two stop?” she grumbled. “I don’t want to hear any more about your privates!” “Our bad.” Jolias replied, a sinister smirk propping a dimple. He turned to Max and bit his lip, lightly flicking the semi-hard head of Max’s cock, outlining through his sweatshorts. Max’s eyes grew wide — as his cheeks went red. “What are you doing?!” he whispered. “Didn’t you just hear what that lady said?” Jolias shrugged. “She only mentioned privates. Why not make it public? Not like it’s public nudity while it’s in your shorts, is it?” “Excuse me?” the woman spoke. Her eyes bounced from Jolias’ to Max’s snaking penis. “Could you please stop engaging in public sex? You are on a plane!” “Sex? I’ll have you know my friend here happens to be a virgin. We’re just having a bit of safe-for-work man-to-man action. No one’s stopping you from switching seats. Better yet, I’m sure the next flight would be more than willing to accommodate you.” Max placed a hand on Jolias’ toned wrist. “Hey… Jol’. Please. Don’t pick a fight. Things are hard enough as is.” And his hands rapped on his chocolate skin. “Though… “ he leaned in close to Jolias’ ear for a whisper. “We can get a closer look at my between-me-down-there when we get to our place. Just not here. That alright with you?” Jolias paused, looked Max in the eye, and shook himself clean. “God.” He took one last look at the woman, now raising a wrinkled eyebrow in irritation. “Fine, fine. But just an inspection.” Max sniffled, his cock bouncing in unison, as he caught Jolias in a gleeful trap. “Just an inspection.” ◊ ◊ ◊ Max woke up at two in the morning. His ears were first, emerging from the heavy silence of a dream come true and into a nightmare orchestrated by the hellish rumbling of the plane’s engine. All the lights were off, save for a few. The occasional insomniac, the jetlagged businessman, the stressed and anxious. They were scattered around, none near enough to provide ample light to any one spot. Max’s eyes were drawn to the blinking seatbelt light overhead, blasted by the cool wind from the AC. Outside the window was a sea of black and blue, the clouds more of a fog the plane penetrated with ease. Jolias was asleep next to him, resting his forehead against the seat in front. Max sniggered. The guy he’d had a crush on for years had never looked so unbelievably unsexy. Yet, after everything they’d been through, he couldn’t have wanted him more. They’d seen each other naked. Jolias’ eyes gleamed at the sight of Max’s enlarged crotch back in the cave — Max was never going to let him live that one down. For the longest time, he didn’t know what it was going to take to make the gym rat ogle him the same way he did every other guy at the gym. Being around all that hot sweat and those big men was never going to work for Max. The cold steel of the dumbbells didn’t feel natural in his hands. Artificial, not meant to be touched. But now he knew better. He knew what Jolias wanted, what he was always after. He tugged the garter of his sweatshorts and inspected the damage. His cock wasn’t the iron-strength beam it was hours ago, but even soft, it was still longer and thicker than he’d ever been hard. And his testicles put eggs to shame. He shook his waist a bit just to see if it — if he — were real, to watch it jiggle in between his legs. To feel it smack against his thighs. Despite the abnormality of the situation, Max found the sensation his new weight brought a pleasantly natural development. “What are you doing…?” Jolias whispered. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d wake up.” Jolias tossed his head and smiled sleepily at Max, one eye still closed and fast asleep. “I work two jobs, Max. No rest means more money.” “And yet, here we are, on the way to Peru to loot whatever rent money we can pry from your grandmother’s remains.” “Shut up.” Jolias lifted the armrest and nestled against Max’s shoulder. “You make it sound like a war crime.” The heat rushed into Max’s face before he could react. Jolias’ black hair was tickling the side of his neck, and his slowed breathing was crawling down Max’s bare arm. They’d never been so close before. Never so intimate. He could feel the stream of blood returning to his cock, the very same beast he’d spent the past few hours struggling to tame, now breaking free of its reigns. “H-hey, Jol’… do you think you could, uh… not use my shoulder as a pillow?” He lowered his head to whisper into Jolias’ ear. “You’re getting me hard again.” “Who cares? The old coon next to me is asleep, and I’m trying to get some well-deserved shuteye. We’ll deal with your horndog problems in the morning.” Max gulped. The mushroom head was crawling down his right leg, inching towards Jolias, pulling and shifting under the gray fabric of his sweatshorts. He tried escaping, shifting closer to the window. Jolias followed. The smaller man was refusing to rest his head on anything that wasn’t Max’s immediate shoulder. Heat was something of an issue to Max. It always got him hard. And being around Jolias wasn’t making things any easier. “I’m serious.” Max felt the flush of warmth course through his cheeks. He laid his eyes on the salami outlined through his shorts. It didn’t look real. But it was his. And he could make it jump at will. Jolias grumbled, lightly flicking the shaft staring at him. “God. Did it get bigger?” Max was confused. “What?” It never occurred to him that any changes, especially subtle as they were, would’ve been invisible to him. But was Jolias telling the truth? Or seeing what he wanted to see? “Don’t touch it.” Regardless, Jolias’ fingers playfully tapping Max’s cock made him twitch. The pleasure being wrought was disproportionate to Jolias’ teasing. Max struggled to maintain his composure. The sensation was writhing through his every nerve, tensing and straining. It was in his fingers, his toes, his neck. But they were in public. Most were asleep, but the few who weren’t could hear every micro-moan and gasp quivering from his lips. There was no way to halt Jolias’ advance. He was indomitable, unrelenting, and oh-so-damn fuckable. The AC turned lukewarm in minutes. Max couldn’t help it — he let out a moan. Though not of agony. Nor of pleasure. The latter was an understatement. It was ecstasy. Max was seeing red, and Jolias’ handsome face at the forefront of his imagination. His best friend’s toned, athletic body, that V-taper, those thick brown nipples protruding from his supple chest. Just from the way Jolias shuffled against Max, his strong shoulders poked and prodded Max’s own soft arm. Those copper eyes, pools of molten gold, shining like the sun. Though his crotch wasn’t as enormous as Max’s was, the ham-like thighs framing it were more than enough compensation. Max glanced at Jolias and regretted it immediately. A drop of precum escaped from his balls. He’d lost control for a moment. Only a second. His testicles hungered for release. They were pressing against his chair, cushioned and primed. But he held the urge down. Kept himself contained. They were still in public. And Max was two seats and several aisles away from reaching the closest toilet. Yet Jolias’ heat permeated his every pore, bathing him in his natural scent, the musk of a Peruvian model. Without a word or any action at all, Jolias was unwittingly holding him hostage along the edge. And he wanted to fall. Wanted nothing more than to let go. The heat was creeping up his swollen shaft, the point of no return. Max held his breath. And he looked, one last time, at Jolias’ heterochrome orange eyes, grinning at him. “Fuck.” He trailed off. A stream of pre-cum pooled in Max’s shorts, coating the fattened cock of his head. Max’s and Jolias’ noses were bombarded with the pungent scent of cum, and they both stared at the source, paused for breath, dumbfounded in curiosity. Max waited for it to end. His hope was short-lived as his balls inexplicably began churning and radiating a sensual heat as it pumped out dollop after dollop of potent sperm. He couldn’t believe the feeling, as if his body had a mind of its own, mercilessly pinching his erotic nerves. “Excuse me, steward, but… what’s that smell?” Max turned to the voice and found it coming from across the plane, opposite to his own seat. It was an old man, sniffling. A cold. He shouldn’t have been able to notice anything. Yet Max stared at the way he described the masculine perfume: raw, warm, chlorine- or bleach-like. Those weren’t the words he would’ve used to describe his cum, but hearing them from a total stranger made them all the more real. Jolias was salivating next to him, his eyes pointed at the couple a few seats ahead, sniffing around for the source. Max couldn’t believe what was happening. Yet the cum only seemed to continue seeping through his shorts, streaming down his leg. The ecstasy was intoxicating. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass. And he let go. The flood of cum gushed out of his balls as a geyser would. Some of it splattered on the carpet. Some on the seat in front, in the net basket, in the pages of the magazines. The cock had broken free of Max’s shorts, pulled the fabric back into his pelvis, and stood at a 45-degree angle. The head flared as if it were alive, roaring and unleashing the white splooge in bursts. Max threw his head back and shut his eyes. He heard Jolias’ voice call out, “Max?” And he wanted nothing more than to fuck it. To fuck him. He bucked in his seat, slowly, girating, picturing the sight of Jolias’ nude self positioned over him, manipulating the nerves in his oversized cock. Jolias had described them to Max before: the ways his ass and cock could take any and every man he slept with to heaven. Those side-comments were never lost on Max. He’d used them to ejaculate before. Just the words. And his voice. And this moment in time, frozen on the plane, was no different. “Max!” Jolias whispered, almost in a yell. There were others looking, glancing over, realizing where the smell was coming from. People were waking up. People were staring. Max shut himself up as he felt the blood in his face flush with heat, releasing the final glob of cum from his balls. It raced up his shaft and ejected, making an audible splat as it collided with the food tray. “Holy fuck,” Max mouthed. But the heat didn’t dissipate. Not yet. He was still far from satisfied. Jolias tugged Max’s shorts in a vain attempt at covering up his privates before the approaching stewardess laid her eyes on the biggest, wettest penis she would’ve ever laid eyes on. It was no good. The tool was too hard, too difficult. “Max, cover yourself up! Holy shit. Someone’s gonna see you.” Jolias got no reply. Max was well and truly out of it. His mind had gone blank-white with euphoria, even in the dimly lit cabin. The heat had taken over every bare inch of his skin, but it never showed. His fingers, resting on the windowsill and Jolias’ left leg, were twitching. Then it happened, the moment Max had been waiting for — the true grand finale. He felt it first in his stomach. With a struggling hand, he bent over and lifted the hem of his shirt, exposing his flawless baby fat paunch, hanging loosely over his shorts’ garter. Jolias tried to unclench Max’s grip and cease the exhibition. He failed. Max’s will surpassed Jolias’ physicality in power, though neither man knew when or how. But Max knew why. With one look, he directed Jolias’ attention to his exposed stomach. Before the latter could even utter a worded reaction, the unbelievable happened. The fat that had once wrapped around Max’s midsection began to dissipate, sinking back into his body, disappearing like a deflating balloon. Both their eyes grew wide as they watched. What was once a torso akin to a bubble was shrinking — no, molding — into marble. The skin tightened until love handles became abs, and, as was revealed by another lift of his shirt, gynecomastia became a pair of pecs. They were faint, flat, nothing like Jolias’. But they were tough. They were square. And they were his. Max didn’t notice the stewardess stop and turn to examine what was happening on seats 33 and 34. She spoke before looking, “Excuse me, sir—“ “Oh, my god.” Jolias reached out a hand to touch but hovered halfway. “Is this real? W-what happened?” Max panted. The heat was finally disappearing, leaving his body like invisible fumes. He turned to Jolias, to the stewardess, to the businessman across the plane. Nothing could have prepared him for what just happened. His hands were still holding up his shirt, exposing his newly-formed chest, swimmer’s abs, V-line, and most importantly his ivory monolith, which was taking its sweet time retracting into a more manageable size. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think I need to clean up,” he told Jolias. Everyone watching was dumbfounded. Max turned to the stewardess, clutching her ID in shock. “You wouldn’t happen to have a box of tissues, would you?”
muscle growth Muscle Daddy - Chapter 1-3 (updated and to be continued)
canon posted a topic in StoriesMUSCLE DADDY a romantic muscle growth story co-written by @Astromuscle, @canon & @raphi0508, with the inspiration of @Marquis Chapter 1 - The Introduction Whew, finally I am back I thought when I set my bag down on my dorm bed. Too bad that my old roommate got suspended cause it got out he was taking steroids. As I unpacked my belongings, before I had to attend my first class this afternoon, I thought back and remembered how cool it was to live with my old roommate. He was 5ft11 and weighed 200lbs at the beginning of college, though he told me secretly he wanted to grow with the help of steroids and that he had a good source. True to his word he did grow. At the beginning he had the body of a typical high school football jock. Nice bulging 17’’ arms, wide shoulders, pretty solid and ripped legs and a nice bubble butt. And best of all was his big bulge. In those three years everything changed for me. He grew 40lbs of pure muscles in just one year. After three years, he weighed an astounding 270lbs and had developed the body of an Olympia-level bodybuilder. Watching him grow, arms getting bigger and more defined, chest getting puffier. I was horny a lot, and I often jacked off just thinking of him. He was also the reason I discovered I was gay. He became very confident in his body, needless to say. He began strolling around naked in our room, and I got many mental images to help me jack off to. Pumped muscle, huge roid gut, and thankfully the roids didn’t seem to affect his junk, hanging large from his body. The problem with him was that he was as straight as an arrow. Nearly every week he had another girl with him in bed, and word was afterwards every girl couldn’t help but talk about his huge cock. I couldn’t blame them he was huge, at least 10’’ from what I could tell from him strolling around our room, not concerned that I was staring wide eyed., I wish I had gotten the chance to feel the large cock, make it inflate, and cup those large balls in my hand. Maybe the college found out about his steroid abuse because it got to be too obvious. As he left we promised each other we would stay in contact, but life came in my way and I had to earn money during summer. Now the new and hopefully last college year has started, but I am sure I will find some time to meet him again soon. I wonder if he continued to grow in the meantime. I drifted away from the things I had to do and got a boner. I hope that I will have enough time before my new roommate arrives, to get off, because hiding my 8.5’’ boner is not easy. Maybe my new roommate is a small dweeb, then my hard on would probably go down fast enough he wouldn’t see it. Suddenly some knocks on the door made me jump up surprised. Even more so I was shocked as my new roommate walked in. Fortuna was generous with me, because he was the most massive guy I had ever seen. He had to turn sideways to get through the doorway. In front of me stood the most impressive and beautiful man I saw in my life until now. The large man squared himself to me after having entered, effectively cutting off my view of the door. Each arm was carrying suitcases that were making his forearms bulge, each muscle standing out, held in place by a net of veins crossing each other and drawing my eyes up his arms, huge biceps and triceps thickened around his arm, a muscle hoody hid the rest of the body a little although i could see some big pecs heaving out from his chest, the hoodie draping over it, hiding whether he had abs, or a gut. My penis twitched at the thought of ripping off the shirt to find out. After a second sizing me up he dropped his bags with a loud thud and reached out his hand. “Hi, I am Mark. I’m guessing we will be roommates this year. Nice to meet you”. I reached out and we shook hands. Damn he has such a strong grip. His hand was larger than mine, thick muscular fingers didn’t give at all to my pressure, and I could feel weight lifting calluses. I was sure we could become good friends. He let go of my hands and bent over to pick up his bags. My penis jumped again. His back is so wide and that ass looks so hard, where do I stare...I quickly shoved my hand into my pants to shove my penis to somewhere less conspicuous while he had his back turned. I had to move to let him by as he passed I noticed my eyes barely met the top of his shoulders, seeing his large delts pulling the fabric of his hoodie forward and back as he carried the heavy bags. After we both had finally unpacked we sat down and started to talk. Mark told me that he is here because he got a Football scholarship, but he also told me that he really wanted to do bodybuilding instead, like his dad does. He enthusiastically described how big his dad was and how small he was compared to him. He also mentioned that he got the good genes of his dad, and expects to start growing bigger soon. The muscle talk made me pretty horny again, I was very thankful that I was sitting down. During our talk we both found out that we have most of our classes together, even the first one of the new year. We continued talking for a while, until we had a sudden shock because we had nearly missed our first class While I was getting ready Mark suddenly dropped his jogging pants to change into jeans. If I thought my old room mate was big, then Mark was a freak. His quads, calves and bulge were huge. I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. Mark had been in a rush, but noticed me sitting in awe. He smile confidently at me, turning to give me a better view., “Pretty impressive, huh? You can thank my dad’s good genes for this thing too, though he is much bigger.” Then he gave me a wink, causing me to blush. I used far more willpower than it should have taken to close my mouth. Once he stopped teasing me and got ready, we both left for class. During the year, we got even more connected. We got to be pretty close friends. Unfortunately for me again, he was also straight. I tried not to let on that I was gay, hoping it would make him more comfortable. If he knows I’m gay he might not take off his pants in front of me anymore either, which would be a tragedy. We both started to workout together after Mark mentioned he really needed a spotter at the gym, and so our friendship got closer because of it. I was unsure how good of a spotter I was being, but Mark didn’t seem to mind, and he spotted me in turn. Luckily I was also benefiting from the workouts growing more athletic myself and began sporting some good pecs and my arms were gaining some definition. Throughout the year I also got to see more of Mark. When he had arrived I had only seen those heavy arms of his, and later his privates. In retrospect I had wished I could have noticed his legs at the time, but I had been hyper focused on his manhood. As it turned out I didn’t need to worry, since much like my last roommate, Mark had no boundaries. I got many opportunities to appreciate Mark’s entire body as he would stroll around naked in our room. Is this a jock thing? I don’t walk around in the nude. Maybe I would if I looked like that I guess. His wide back held his arms out away from his body a little, a nice V-taper going down to his ass. I also discovered he did indeed have a flat stomach, abs like bricks holding up the large chest and shoulders with a solid foundation. His ass was muscular and even at rest you could see the muscles through any slight amount of fat he may have housed there. Large, powerful quads came out of his tight waist, bounding up and coming in tight to his knees. Diamond calves pressed hard against his skin behind his shins, more veins becoming apparent as if the skin needed help to contain the muscle. If I thought Mark had even one atom of gay in him I would worship those muscles in every way my brain could come up with, but sadly I had to settle for keeping some tissues near my bed for when he walked into the bathroom for a shower. During our workouts Mark could not stop talking about his dad, and the more often we worked out the more he told me about how big his dad was and how much bigger he wanted to grow. Mark said one day he hoped to get bigger than his dad, but he told me he wasn’t sure if he ever could. This was one of the only times Mark seemed insecure about anything, and I comforted him telling him one day he would surely outgrow his old man. Despite my word the more he talked about his dad, the more curious I got and the more I wanted to meet the man who could supposedly dwarf the muscle man in front of me. Was it really possible that his dad was that much bigger than Mark? Mark was already an alpha jock. Thinking about his dad being even bigger made my cock grow bigger in my pants every time. Luckily I wore tight spandex under my workout clothes at the gym, where Mark gushed the most about his dad the most. It kept my cock and balls in place. Thank god. As the end of the semester came around, Mark suddenly asked me if I would want to join him during spring break. We could continue working together at his house, in his dad’s home gym. I quickly agreed, mind taken up by the idea that I could finally meet his huge dad. “I would love to join you. You need a spotter after all I guess.” He smiled at me and I blushed. God does he realize that I’m gay? Chapter 2 - The Visit As I got there, Mark showed me around his house: his and his dad’s bedroom, the bathrooms, a jacuzzi, an office room and a big living room. The kitchen was also very roomy and there was enough food in it to feed an army. After the first pass through the house he opened a new door and told me to follow him downstairs to a private room. What hit me first was a very manly smell that caused me to get hard instantly. I was really surprised to not only find another bedroom but also a fully equipped gym with a huge mirror wall, a small juice booth with a lot of supplements and a big sofa in the corner of the room. Looking around I noticed that the bench and the squat rack were loaded and the bar was slightly bent from the heavy weights. I asked him if all the heavy weights and protein powder were his. He just smiled knowingly and said that he usually works out at the college or the nearby gym and not here. Everything I saw here was his dads’. I just looked at him in shock with my mouth open again. Suddenly after checking his phone he tells me that one of his friends had an emergency and needs a lift somewhere and asks if I would want to come, or if I'd prefer to stay and try to get settled. I told him that I would stay here and get comfortable, and I went over to the other room in the basement, which was supposedly my room. As I set down my bags and made my bed I hear Mark head out the door. Now that I am alone I walked around the gym, imagining how big his dad must be, using the ridiculously heavy weights I can see in the room. I start getting a boner as I see some used briefs and a torn tank top on the floor. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets when I see the shirt is a 3XL. It couldn’t be Mark’s, big as he was it would drape over him like a canopy. I step closer, picking it up and smelling the fabric. It has such a sweaty, manly smell and my penis gets hard at the combined scent and thought of what someone who wears that must look like, not to mention rip it. My cock keeps growing down my left leg, pinned inside my pants. I may not be big in other areas, but having a large cock was definitely something I reveled in. It would always makes me feel very proud of myself, especially recently in the gym locker room. I eventually decide I want to take a tour upstairs again, going up and finding the main laundry. My mind is racing about this legendary dad who must be a true beast, and now my eyes pick up on things I hadn’t done before. One whole cupboard was filled with every supplement I had heard of, and some that I didn’t even recognize. One even looked foreign. As I keep looking I went to the fridge. I had noted earlier that it was full, but looking closer I now saw that while there were some fresh produce, I saw a lot of meats of different varieties, as well as cottage cheese, greek yogurt. The cupboards had tuna and flaked chicken, lentils, beans and rice. I was never a bodybuilder myself but I did know enough out of sheer lust for them to know exactly what most of this stuff was. My god this is all protein, and high carb foods. Building blocks of muscle. Next I moved on to the living room. One large couch sat across from a very large TV. The couch itself looked very well used. It was odd, since it didn't look old per say but the middle cushion sagged down and looked about as flat as a pancake. A couple shaker cups littered the table, all empty and some of the dumbbells from downstairs were also up here. The lowest weight I saw was 80lbs and my dick did a twitch, trying to free itself from my pants. It took me both my hands and heaving back to lift the weight adequately, which sent my mind reeling. Ok so his dad brings weights up here for while he’s watching TV. If this is the lowest weight then it must be for the smallest muscles. Does he bicep curl these monsters?! I take my dick out of my pants and begin massaging it as I look at the den of someone who I figure must be from my imagination. I close my eyes a little as I slip into my own thoughts trying to visualize Mark’s dad. Picturing a masculine muscle guy like Mark and then morphing his muscles big enough to handle the weights around the house. *Boom* A loud noise came from the back door into the kitchen. I can hear heavy footsteps, and am not sure if it’s my roommate or not, but I know if anyone sees me like this I’m going to be in trouble. I shove my cock haphazardly into my pants and rush down the stairs as quietly as I can, though it didn’t end up being that quiet. I make it downstairs, winded. Looking down I noticed my cock is still half way down my left leg. I try to cover it up and make it disappear, but having a big cock also has some disadvantages. I hear the footsteps thumping again and it is making my heart race. My heart beating isn’t exactly helping the boner go down. God damnit. I listen now and think that the footsteps and creaking sound louder than when Mark left, making me think this must be the dad. My penis twitches, as if trying to find a way out so it can see for itself. I hear the footsteps approach the top of the stairs, and the stairs creaking heavy as he comes down them slowly. I go to hide in my room, too shy to be seen alone here with a huge boner, but too interested not to peek. One massive foot slams down into view, extending over the edge of the stairs. I can hear the stair creak as I watch even the shoe seem to cry out as weight is being transferred to that foot, the next foot comes down, this time I get to see the calf. The dad was clearly wearing shorts because his calf was exposed. Or he’s naked I think but shove the thought away, he’s wearing shoes after all. The man’s lower leg is thick and strong, and becomes so much bigger halfway up where his calf starts, exploding out in all directions. I can see the muscles bunch and work as weight moves to that leg instead. Two more steps and the bottom of his quads came into view, even his knees were thickly built, but it was still not enough to prepare me for how big his thighs would be. They came out hard at the knee, bulky and thickening as they traveled up his leg to what I was beginning to think of as the promised land. Unfortunately that’s where his shorts started and I couldn’t see the upper half of his thighs. I was so disappointed. I realized he was still coming down the stairs and turned away from the door. I was breathing heavy even just at what I had glimpsed. That was the biggest person I had ever seen in my life, bigger than any person I had seen in the gym. His size put him up there with the biggest that I had masturbated to online even, and he was real, just on the other side of the door. My cock was twitching into overdrive and I became scared I might cum right there. I had to turn around and take a break from watching him. Then I could finally hear him stepping down onto the landing and walking around a little. “Mark? Are you down here?” His voice was so deep, manly, almost like a growl. It had a little roughness to it, but otherwise it was a deep bass and strong. I almost moaned but I caught myself and covered my mouth. I prayed he wouldn’t come in here and see me like this. After a minute of walking around and moving some things around I can hear a grunt.I figured the dad must have started lifting some weights, and my curiosity got the better of my common sense. I slowly sneak over to the door and I turn to get a better look at what is happening inside the weight room. What I can see, I can barely believe. Right in the middle of the weight room stands the most massively muscled beast I have ever seen. My eyes didn’t know where to look at first, because all I saw were bulky muscles on top of more muscles. All of this was made even more clear because he was not wearing a shirt. The only clothing was the shorts that half covered his massive thighs. His back was so thick and wide, lats coming from so far out and curving down and in to a narrow waist. I was wondering why he didn’t fall over. My gaze fell lower, back to his quads. Holy shit. Those are fucking tree trunks. His thighs each were almost bigger than his waist. You could clearly see the outline of some really heavy Hamstrings, striations leading into his shorts. At the other end of where I knew those lines would lead were two globes that formed a large, hard as steel ass big enough the shorts looked like they were straining to hide it from my view. I followed the spine up his back, muscles exploding out to either side as they grabbed hold of the bones for support, but came out after for space to hold their mass. Huge traps popped out at the top of his back, and converged on the back of his head. If he had a neck, I couldn’t see it. To either side were two massive shoulders formed on that were almost the size of small watermelons and anchored two of the biggest, most ripped and vascular arms I have ever seen. He was doing curls, and swear I could see his arms swell up bigger with every rep. His triceps were so visible and thick, they were blocking my view of his biceps a little. Each curl was accompanied by soft moans and grunts that made my cock throb and twitch hard. Looking at that muscle beast was like seeing a living and breathing 3D anatomy chart, and I was studying it like I was about to take a final exam. After what seemed like an eternity, Dad put the weights down with a loud boom and went straight into a double biceps pose. FUUUUUCK. Those bicep peaks are almost higher than his head. He turned around slightly to find the best lighting to show off his huge guns, making the shadows between his biceps and triceps even darker and more pronounced. From where he was now I could see his face. He had a military cut head, cleanly buzzed that lead into a trimmed and well kept beard, thick but shorter. The square jawline was still visible and made his face look so much harder. Altogether, he was the picture of masculinity and handsomeness. He turned towards the mirror again and began shaking his quads. I could hear the muscles move on his leg left and right until he flexed them, at which point the thigh became a solid mass of crevices and peaks of strength. Fuck he’s so fucking massive. Is he even human? Big, thick muscular legs were always a huge turn on for me, and his were like something beyond what even I had dreamed were possible. He straightened up and stretched a little and my heart skipped a beat. He might be leaving the room, and there I was in the doorway, staring at him pose without making a sound or introducing myself. My heart almost stopped as I thought he caught me. Then I was shocked to see what happened next. Before my eyes I saw the dad lower his shorts and pull out a semi hard cock. It flopped big and heavy into his hand, almost as big as the silicone dick men online, but I’ve heard that doing that takes away the sensitivity, and judging by his face at his own touch that was not the case. He swirled it around once or twice with one hand, the other posing and cupping his own muscle until finally he was at full mast, magnificent and huge jutting from his body. Veins twisted around it more so than on his arms, which I hadn’t thought possible, leading to a mushroom head that looked so swollen at the tip of it all, adding an extra 2 inches to the length. His hands were clearly big but even still his dick was large in them. He brought down both hands on his dick and even then couldn’t cover the whole shaft. He begins jerking it off, and before I even realise mine is out of my pants and I’m doing the same. Eventually the dad returned to posing and jacking off, making the whole display hotter as I stroke my member, trying to savour what I saw without making noise. Eventually the beast reaches down and his hand goes to his asshole, putting one large finger in. I moan and my body buckles, ready for the next part, although everything shuts down when both our eyes open at the noise. Dad looks at me, dick in his hand, and steps back, falling over and hitting his head on a bench. OMG I don’t know which is worse, the first time he saw me I was jacking to him, or that now I hurt him. I tuck my dick away as best I can in a flash and rush over, nervous but also needing to check if he's ok. “Man I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have been doing that, you were just working out and-” I decide it might be better to stop talking about it and I help him up, biting my lip at the feel of his back muscles hard and flexed in my hand and the heaviness of his weight as I try to help him. “Fuck man where did you even come from?” He shakes his head. “You can’t just jack off to the sight of people man. Who are you even?” As I was about to say something we both hear footsteps coming down the stairs. “You down here Dad? Tommy?” We both look at each other and then at our hard dicks. I panic and grab a heavy dumbbell nearby, just lifting it enough to clear the Dad’s body and get it to the other side of him, taking my body with it. I land over his crotch with my own, both our dicks rubbing together as the weight thuds on the other side. “Shit man I’m so sorry.” I look over at the dad from where I am as Mark enters the gym room. “I thought I could handle the weight, I guess I was just cocky, and maybe wanted to try to show off, you were throwing these weights around like it was nothing. I should just go probably.” The dad looks down at me, confused but when his son enters the room and doesn’t notice their boners he clues into what I did. “Buddy listen, it’s fine I guess I can see where you are coming from, can’t say I might not have done the same in your position but man you gotta do things the right way. Talk to me and tell me where you are at, and we might be able to work something out, but promise me you will never try something like that again.” “I promise sir.” My god did he imply he might be gay? He may have been keeping up the act, but what if he meant it! Mark coughs a little form where he stands. “Were you going to get off him Tommy?” I look down at our crotches, neither of our dicks having gone down at all, especially with the added pressure of the other dicks against it. I reach the hand away from Mark down on the dad’s abs, as if for support then i fake a slip. My hand shoots down the dad’s shorts and I grab his dick, it’s so veiny and huge, and pulses at the new visitor but I try to keep my head. I quickly shove it around and behind one of his thighs. It offers some resistance but it’s long enough that I manage it quickly and recover my hand. I get up, facing directly away from Mark and tuck my dick into my waistband and over it with a thankfully loose shirt. I turn to Mark, seeing if my trick had worked. “Mark, your dad hit his back pretty hard off the bench just now. Do you have like some muscle relaxing gel or something?” Mark thinks deeply for a minute. He doesn’t seem to notice we are rock hard, that’s a good sign at least. After a moment the dad pipes up, “In the upstairs medicine cabinet. The boys right. Could you go grab it for me please Mark?” Mark nods and heads off up the stairs. “That was some quick thinking there Tommy. I’m Rent by the way.” He holds out his large hand and I shake it, enjoying how hard and calloused it is and how big it feels against mine. “You are the new roommate I hear so much about. Not much for first impressions are you?” I look terrified now that Mark is gone. I have returned back to this giant of a man, the man of my dreams and fantasies berating me because I couldn’t keep it in my pants. That is until he reaches down and grabs my dick with one hand, his own with the other, and begins jacking us both off. “What are you doing! I’m so sorry but I’m really confused now!” My mind is racing, the big man’s actions not matching his words. “Mark is going to be back down here any second and these beasts aren’t going to go soft in that time unless we cum. We were both at the edge anyways.” He picks up the speed he is going, ripped bulbous biceps lengthening and tightening with each motion. He plays with his chest a little and smiles as he looks over at me and shows off. That proved too much for me and I came on the floor in front of me. Now Rent began to focus more on himself. He spread his legs and began using his other hand on his dick as well. I could hear Mark upstairs and knew we didn’t have too much longer. I go over to Rent and put my fragile thin arm next to his. Mine looks like the bone that MIGHT be strong enough to support the sheer muscle Rent had. I put my leg against his for good measure and show him how big he is. “You’re so big, I can’t believe it. I can’t even compare, your arm could hold 5 of mine, legs too.” Rent grunts as his eyes roll back. Thick white goop shoots from the end of his cock against the wall and floor. I so want to enjoy the sight but I already messed up once today because of my lust and I was not about to do it again. I grab some nearby towels and make quick work wiping up our mess. As I pass I nudge Rent who is coming back to his senses. “Hunch over, you’re hurt remember?” Rent nods his head, traps stretching and then bunching at the movement and he bends over as if his back was weak. Seems more just like a realistic representation of how that big upper part would weigh down over that thin waist. Those abs are big, but it looks ridiculous to think they can hold up that giant piece of perfection. Mark comes back just as I drop the towels into the hamper, the hamper itself has a scent I recognize as a cum smell. Clearly this was common fair, except for the interruptions. The idea of him coming down regularly to work out and then worship his own muscles was so hot I felt my dick ask if it was time for round 2. I pushed the idea from my head and started to think of gross things that would keep me soft. Mark hands over the gel stuff to his dad and gets a thank you. Rent excuses himself to go apply it, saying he should cut his workout short due to his back. “Thanks for this Mark, and it was… interesting meeting you Tommy. Welcome to my home.” He smiles a little and leaves. “Do you want to work out then?” Mark asks. “Man I think after how badly I botched that I better call it too. I don’t feel hurt, but I don’t want to risk it” Mark wished me well and I went over to my room. I couldn’t believe what had just happened and my mind was exhausted. I crawled into my bed for a nap. I fell asleep with a boner at the thoughts of living with Rent, and also at the sounds of Mark working out in the other room. Chapter 3 - My first night I had gone in my room and jacked off once or twice more. I was in heaven, but the idea of living with that muscle monster, along with Mark who wasn’t bad looking himself. He had been right, I could see where he got his looks and muscle from. I even found myself cursing his mother for diluting the genes he got from his father. How could she even leave someone like that?! He’s hot, but not only that he seemed nice. I took a nap, and when I got up I could smell food cooking. I was led by my nose upstairs to find the big man himself stirring a pot full of what was now a distinct enough smell that I could tell it was chili. Mark wasn’t around and Rent hadn’t noticed me. I was overcome by embarrassment, and began to go back down the stairs. “You don’t have to run away. It’s fine. I’m making food for all of us, and it will be ready in a couple minutes. May as well sit down at the table.” The deep voice assaulted me from behind. I looked down the stairs. He sounded like this was weird for him too. I debated just leaving anyways. I could pack up my bag, travel back home for spring break. I sighed and came back around. I avoided looking at the muscle man, walking up, only to see his feet, bare, thick and covered in veins, like I should have known they’d be. Dear god those things are some of the biggest I’ve ever seen. Could there be something about him that didn’t completely arouse me? I blink but keep looking down, figuring this was better than seeing the rest of him. “Sir, I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have done that. It was disgusting and disrespectful and completely inappropriate. I can pack my bag tonight and head out in the morning, if you want.” I heard him give a deep sigh, and watched his weight shift. “Listen kid. I’ve thought about it and I get it. I mean I was jacking off to myself too. Not gonna lie the idea the idea you were jacking off at the sight of me was pretty hot too.” I look up, Rent is blushing a little, but look right back down. “And gotta admit man you knew exactly how to press my buttons to finish me off.” I smile a little and give a shy uncertain laugh. It shocked me when his hand came into view and grabbed my chin, turning it up. He did it quickly, but even then my eyes seemed to work quickly catching each part of him, thick legs that had been in my peripherals. Tight waist and huge bulge that his shorts draped over. Waist coming out wide quickly with lats, and then the chest kicking in and expanding his physique in every direction. Traps coming upleading from far out to latch onto the back of Rent’s head. Rent’s face was not something I had had a lot of time to take in, but now he was forcing me to look at it. It was square and strong, even the muscles here looking ripped a little. A thick jaw led down to a strong chin. A short, well kept beard was there following the jawline, and going around his lips, which were thick and full. A relatively small nose took up the middle of his face, and above those were deep brown eyes, like the bark of a strong oak or maple. Even his forehead was almost squared off, and he had a military buzz cut. Over his temples and on some of his forehead even at rest I could see veins snaking their way about. This face would scare me shitless if it were angry at me. This face wasn’t angry though. Rent was looking into my eyes and had a slight smile. He still had some colour in his cheeks from blushing a second ago. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay, and maybe I can even show you how to pick up a weight properly without dropping it on me” I interject, “That was on purpose to cover you before Mark came in” Rent’s smile widens a little, as if about to laugh. “Do you mean to say if we went downstairs right now you could lift that dumbbell and not drop it? If you say yes I will call your bluff, so pick your words carefully” I think about it, I had been in a rush and only had to lift it a little and did so quickly. I remember that it had actually been quite difficult and almost didn’t get it all the way over Rent’s side. “Fine, I admit it was very heavy.” Rent put his hand on my shoulder, his smile turning sweeter. “Admitting that is the first step. Good job. I don’t think I could throw you out of the house anyways, your face is too cute.” Rent removed his hand from me, and I felt a weight lift off me. Had just his hand been that heavy?! My dick twinged a little. Fuck this is going to be a tough week, I think as I watch Rent prepare three bowls of chili from the pot. Two are regular size, but one is definitely a mixing bowl he is filling up high. Rent sees your gaze and laughs. “It takes a lot of food to keep this ship sailing. Don’t you worry, I won’t get fat off it.” He sets the two bowls down and calls for Mark. I sit down and watch him walk and grab the last bowl. My god he’s almost waddling, each ass cheek filling the space the other is leaving behind. I am very thankful I am already sitting down at the table, because I am getting boned up just watching. Mark comes out of his room to sit with us. “Dear god dad got enough chili there?” Rent laughs at his sons comment. “Is everyone getting on my case about how much I’m eating? I plan to have dessert later too…” Mark laughs, while I’m just struck by these two muscle men talk. “Dad you eat like that and you will get fat. Even you can only handle so many calories.” “Tell you what little man o’ mine. You get to be as big as me without eating this much, and I’ll reconsider. Until then keep lifting your kiddie weights.” I would have suspected this to be said arrogantly, but Rent had a sweet tone to his voice and Mark laughed so deeply, I figured that was just their relationship. Mark looked over at me. “What does that make the weights Tommy uses dad?” I watched as Marks chair moves and he almost falls out of it. “I did not raise a son who makes fun of others or feels superior because he can lift more. We kid, but you will not make fun of someone who is doing their best and is starting out.” Rent looked over at me, eyes kind. “I’m sorry about that. We tease but I don’t make fun when people are lifting heavy, no matter the weight.” I blink, having really not taken offense to anything. “That’s ok. Honestly it’s not like I don’t think the same when I lift with Mark there. I bet with your physique-” I stumble on the word a little, a mental image of everything I had seen coming to mind, but I only slow for a second. “-with your physique I’m sure he must feel like I do.” Mark nods in agreement. Rent keeps asking questions about me, and about how we are both doing at school. Jokes were thrown around all night and I actually managed to distract myself in the conversation enough for me to get up in the end and not be worried they might see me hard. Rent excused himself after dinner was done to finish the workout I had interrupted and Mark and I cleaned the dishes. I washed and Mark put them away. I thought about Rent downstairs lifting, and occasionally heard a grunt come from the stairwell. “Sounds like a monster coming from down there, right?” I look over at Mark. He was also staring down there. “My big man is just so strong and powerful. I look up to him a lot.” My tongue works for a sec. “Makes sense, he is something else man. Not how I pictured him though.” Mark looks confused. “Didn’t I tell you he was bigger than even me?” Mark goes into a double bicep pose. “Hard as that might be to believe.” My jaw drops a little. It was easy to forget next to Rent how large and muscular Mark was, his biceps like two cannonballs held in a boat of tricep. I look away and try to recover. “That’s not what I meant. I meant he’s not cocky. He just seems cool. He’s aware of who he is, but he doesn’t flaunt it that much, except to you.” At that I turn to him. “But that seems like it’s to put you in your place, and motivate you.” “Put me in my place? What do you mean?” I look over to him, and hold up his arm, he flexes intuitively. “You are amazing physically, and I bet you always have been, especially with an influence like that in your life. You are also a great guy, so don’t take it personally when I tell you you are arrogant man. Makes people feel lesser.” I kind of zone out remembering being bullied by people like Mark. I look up and see Mark’s face concerned. “Dude, you know I don’t feel that way. I flex because I’m proud of what I’ve worked for. To be honest I kinda thought you liked it when I flexed my muscles too.” He doesn’t seem as hurt as perhaps disappointed. “Mark. Are you crazy? I do like when you flex, and I love seeing how proud you are of it. You deserve to be. You are huge, but I know you’re huge because I am smaller.” I pull the sink plug and watch the dirty water swirl away. “Anyways I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s not for you to worry about me. You develop a thick skin when you are small.” I dry my hands and wander off downstairs. That was more intense then I meant for it to be. Hope Mark doesn’t take that too seriously. I need to breathe, I will check with him in the morning. I pass by the gym, and see Rent working out. I stop and see him bench pressing, chest muscles heaving up as he reracks the weight. I quickly turn around and head off to my room, closing the door behind me, trying hard not to think about the massive man there. I lean against the door, and am shocked to hear deep thumps against it, absorbed into my back. I turn around and open the door. Rent is there, taking up the entire space. He is a little sweaty and in a stringer that reveals a lot of his upper body, thick, slick, bulky muscle hanging out huffing and puffing. “Listen Tommy, come work out with me.” My jaw drops. “Work out? Next to you? Man I can’t even compare to you, why do you want to work out with me?” Rent just smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t matter how much you lift. I want to see what kind of stuff you are made of. I feel like I can really tell what a man is like by how he lifts.” He breathes deeply “By which I mean ‘how’ not ‘how much’. No ego lifting, even with me there to spot.” God despite his body I could just get lost in that smile of his. Rent turns and stalks off with his wide back, moving his legs out as he walks. I began to get hard again, but at this point in this house it was becoming the norm. I was nervous, but it wasn’t like Rent hadn’t already seen it. I came in and he did notice. “Doesn’t take much for you, huh? Try not to blow on my bench, K?” I blush, shifting it away. Did Rent watch me adjust myself? Fuck now I’m imagining things. I look at the bench, loaded with several large plates on either side, and then a coupe small ones. 700lbs?! Just casually?! There were safety bars in place on the power cage, although I had a hunch that they weren’t intended to save you from a 700lb barbell falling. Rent began taking the weight off one side, and I mimicked him on the other. “How much weight you want?” His face seemed to study me. Fucking beast is testing me. I think for a second. “Empty bar.” Rent smiles. “Smart boy! Sounds good to me.” Rent finishes and leans on the wall. I take off all my weight and slide under the bar. I check my form and position, and then grab the bar tightly. I unrack and bring the bar down slowly, and then shoot it up. Keep your shoulders on the bench, that’s the thing you are always messing up. I feel them coming up a little, and I readjust. The weight isn’t trying, but if this is a test like I wanted an ‘A’. Rent began to straddle me so he was in view. Holy shit the view from down here… FOCUS! “What are you thinking about right now Tommy?” “I’m trying to keep my shoulders on the bench.” I breathe, and then continue. “They always ride up and off the bench.” Rent lightly touches the bar the next time it comes up and shifts it down closer to him. I follow it with my eyes making me look more at him. FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS. I could tell what my penis wanted me to focus on. “Try arching your back, activating your lats to keep your shoulders down, and pushing it up here over your shoulders, not over your neck.” I make my eyes look at the bar instead of Rent, which was no easy feat. I control the bar down to my mid chest, and then push it up, this time more slowly to focus on the bar path making it come over my shoulders and then stop. The entire time I was straining my lats in the hopes my shoulders wouldn’t rise up. I rerack and breathe a little, it hadn’t been much weight but I did quite a few reps with the bar. Sweat was already forming on me and I was a little embarrassed at having such a little weight get to me. I slowly increased the weight until I got up to 135. Rent went to straddle me again before I unracked. I am going to hate myself for saying this. “Rent buddy why are you going over me, instead of above my head?” “I actually always feel a little cramped inside the cage, figured I could still help from out here. I don’t spot a lot of people other than Mark sometimes.” “Rent… You know I’m gay… and you know you turn me on… It’s a little distracting having your body hanging over me. If you really do want me to lift my best you may have to not be there.” I blush so red I feel like I am turning into a tomato. Rent looks down at himself, as if seeing his muscles for the first time, and then realizing what I was saying. “Damn, I guess that’s a good point.” Rent gets off me and I feel my lust pull me towards him. I force myself not to move. Fuck but having his body hanging over me was amazing. I unrack the weight, wobbling a little. I steady myself and bring the bar down, touch my chest, and then press it back up. Shoulders on the bench, touch mid chest, push to over the shoulders, no further. I press it back up about 5 times before my arms start to get weak. I force myself to go for one more, and before I am done Rent is back over me, hands under the bar without touching it. “Go for one more. I am right here to catch it.” I don’t even have enough breath to remind him how distracting he is. I take a big gulp of a breath, fix my position and lower the bar, shaking as I go down and touch it against my mid chest. It rests there a little heavier than I meant it to, but I begin pressing it up, getting it a little less than halfway before the bar stops moving. Don’t crane your neck, don’t compromise your form. Keep pushing. I push and push but the bar doesn’t move and it begins to fall again. Rent’s large hands go under the bar and lightly touch it, taking a couple pounds of weight. I redouble my efforts and concentrate on squeezing my chest. Rent wasn’t pulling that hard, but he was doing enough I got past the sticking point and locked out my elbows. Rent pushed the bar back into the rack and I let it go. “Well a couple more sets like that and I’ll be toast.” I laugh a little, and feel my body touch his thighs. Fuck this position is torture. Rent looks down at me, face of joy. “You gave that set your all, I’m proud of you.” I give him an accusatory look. “Didn’t I mention how unhelpful you holding your body over me is? Kind of gives my brain the wrong idea.” Rents facial expressions change in a second. Where before it was purely one of happiness, now there was something else… close to a hunger. He leans over, grabbing some bench supports for hand positioning as his body hangs horizontally over mine. “Who said it was the wrong idea?” Dear god I know that look. It’s not hunger, it’s lust! Rent lowered himself onto me. I was stunned. “Boy I already know you like me. My son doesn’t know, but lately my tastes have become more… Well more like you.” Rent was beginning to lay part of his body on me, pressing my shoulder blades into the bench better than the bar had. Rent had his nads on the bar above me, his huge hard hands resting on it as two thick bulky arms hung over me, lowering his head towards mine. “You know, if you want to make out with an old fart like me” My body almost moved on it’s own, not that I would have stopped it. I bent my head forward, and touched our lips together. Rent’s lips were firm but soft, working with mine as he lowered his head down so I could lay back. ... TO BE CONTINUED...
m/m Cory & The Machine #NSFW
RayWild16 posted a topic in StoriesWARNING: This story contains scenes of a violent nature. Some readers may find these scenes offensive. Please do not read on if you feel like this applies to you. PART ONE “Errrrrrch…” “Twenty-two and a half.” “Aw, c’mon, man!” “Well, pump it, man! C’mon. Squeeze.” “Ah, shit.” “Yeah, man. Twenty-two and three-quarters.” “Arrrrrch!” “Just a little more. One more pump, Cory.” “Ah, God, man. I’m startin’ to cramp.” “Little more. Yeah! Twenty-three!” Cory dropped his arm to his side, but the swollen biceps seemed determined to maintain its size, now that it had been abused for the sake of attaining the magic number. Twenty-three inches. He shook his upper arm and pressed on the release point just below the deltoid until he could bend his arm freely. “Man, Cory. That was beautiful, all pumped up like that. Big block’a biceps sittin’ there. How’s it feel?” I could tell what he wanted to say. I knew what he was feeling. Like it was going to cum. Like the muscle was going to just up and spurt right there on his arm. But Cory wasn’t that way. He kept it all to himself. So I almost mouthed his reply, the same reply he always gave. “Feels alright.” “Yeah. Alright.” I could tell he would need a little time to put things right in his head again, after such an effort. So I left him to brood, or whatever it was he did when he wouldn’t talk to me, and went over to the pec deck. I think he was a little jealous. I had hit the magic mark about a month ago and hadn’t even had to cramp up to get it. But, man, you should see this guy compared to what he looked like just twelve months ago. He’d walked into the gym wearing long sweat pants and a jersey-hooded top. In the middle of summer, yet. I don’t know what he thought he was hiding or why he thought he had to hide it. What showed, though, would have been enough to catch my attention even if his clothes hadn’t. His face was beautiful. Hard, chiseled features just sharp enough to make you hope the body was the same without being severe. Though the clothes were baggy, you could tell they hung on a solid frame. The front of the sweat pants were molded around what seemed to be a rather lengthy protrusion which hung a considerable way down his right pant leg. I thought I just might have found a match for my own ten inches. Everyone else in the place was hunkered down on a piece of gear, too wrapped up with their efforts to worry about what walked through the door. I was working the desk that morning, so it was up to me to see what this walking sauna wanted. “Hi. Can I help you?” “Ah, just looking, actually.” “Lots to look at. I’m Michael.” I extended my hand but was met with a look which asked why. I’m not the type to get annoyed easily, so I figured I’d just wait and let him make the next move. “Anything you might be interested in here?” He ran his gaze up and down my six foot three inch frame and his eyes told me all I needed to know. He wasn’t cruising me. He wanted to have a body like mine. They all did. Everyone who walked into the place started out wanting to have my body. For their own, I mean. Most of them who stuck around ended up getting what they wanted, though it took a while for them to accept the body they were born with. But this guy was different. I tried to see through the layer of fleece to what he had beneath. Hard to tell. But one thing was for sure, except for a little difference in hair color (mine is brown, his blonde) and eyes (my blue to his…God, what was that? Green with little flecks of gold in them…easy, Michael) we were definitely cut from the same mold. If there was anyone who had ever walked through that door who could have my body with the proper amount of work, it was him. And I mean ‘have’ both ways. “How much does it cost to join?” I reached behind the front desk and pulled out a membership agreement which had all the prices on it. As I turned back to hand it to him I saw his eyes zip back up to eye level. I wondered how far down he’d gotten before getting caught. “Here. This will tell you all the membership options. You can have a seat and look it over now, or…” His eyes were locked firmly on mine. “I have severe perceptual dyslexia.” I guess the blank look on my face must have told him… “I can’t read.” No fear. No embarrassment. No remorse. He just couldn’t read, that’s all. “Have a seat. I’ll go over everything with you. You want me to read this to you, or just answer questions.” “Go ahead and read it.” I did. It took about fifteen minutes, with all the ‘thou shalt’s’ and ‘thou shalt not’s.’ At the end, I asked if he had any questions or if he wanted me to go over anything again. “No, thanks. I can remember it all.” I didn’t know what that meant. I mean, if he had an eidetic memory and all, why couldn’t he just read? That dyslexia shit must be a real bitch. “Why don’t you look the place over a bit. You’re welcome to use any of the gear. And most of the folks here are happy to answer questions.” “Okay.” And with that, he headed out onto the floor. He spent the next hour, and I mean a full hour, watching each station be worked by a person. He had a few questions, but seemed to sense the need to let the members get on with their work. But it wasn’t hard to see that each encounter was a pleasant experience for each person he interacted with. It must have been the gold flecks. I sat back down at the desk to do paperwork, glancing up occasionally to see how he was doing. I finally decided he was going to behave himself and got lost in my duties. At one point I looked up to find him standing before me at the desk. I had no idea how long he had been there. His eyes locked onto mine and wouldn’t let go. “So?” He looked like he had already made up his mind. “I’ll start with a six-month membership without the classes option. I’ll provide my own lock and I’ve got insurance already.” “Well, that doesn’t leave me much to ask except how you want to…” “American Express.” Now what’s a guy who can’t read doing with an AMEX card? I was quickly learning that this “can’t read” thing was more of a big deal for me than it was for him. He took it out of his wallet. Platinum? What the hell’s going on here? I ran it through the verifier and entered an amount double of what his membership would cost; standard practice to cover incidentals and such. He caught my look of amazement when it came back with an approval code. He signed the credit slip with a scrawl that looked only slightly less decipherable than most people’s signatures. We filled in the forms together, him supplying answers, me the pen work. I thought he would clam up when it got to the personal data, but he fed it to me like it was my business to know and his to tell. “What’s your first name?” “Cory.” I wondered if his folks had known he would grow up beautiful enough to carry that name proudly. I knew it had to be either Cory or Stefan. “Middle initial.” “S.” I didn’t ask. We finished the form — I have to admit I was disappointed that the address he gave was a post office box — and then I took him back to the locker room, assigned him a locker and showed him where the towels and such were. Each time I indicated a location of something his eyes would flick to the spot for an instant and then back to me. His eyes hardly ever left mine. But instead of feeling threatened or uncomfortable, I felt like he was really interested in what I had to offer him. I straddled one of the benches that ran between the lockers and indicated he should do the same. He didn’t hesitate for an instant but joined me, facing me; his knees just inches from mine. “Look, Cory. I don’t know if this is any of my business, but in a way, I guess it is. I gotta ask. You ever had any experience with this stuff? Y’know. Working out?” “I had a friend who did it. I used to watch him. He had some equipment in his basement that he and his wife would use.” “But you’ve never done this, yourself?” “I tried some of his stuff once in a while.” “I don’t know if you noticed, but most of the folks out there, especially the ones who are really serious, have someone to work with.” “Like my friend and his wife.” “Yeah, though I don’t know too many boy/girl teams.” “They did it just for fun. Said it made the sex better.” I barely was able to keep my eyebrows from hitting the ceiling. I was dying to know what his part in all this was. With surprisingly little effort several scenarios came to mind. “Yeah. It does that, alright. Are you thinking of getting your friend to join the club, as well? Be your workout partner?” “He’s dead. They died in a car crash a few months ago. His mom said I could have the gear if I wanted it, but I didn’t know what to do with it.” This was getting weirder by the minute. Cory narrowed his gaze just a bit. He asked me, “Do you have a workout partner?” My old partner — partner in workouts, partner in business, partner in just about everything else in my life — my old partner had decided life on the coast was too much, or too little, or too — something — for him. Six months ago he‘d split, leaving an envelope with a terse note of apology and the papers to his half of the business signed over to me and notarized. He had even taken care of having his mail forwarded, so I didn’t even have the pleasure of NOT forwarding anything to him that might have appeared in my mailbox — not that I would ever have stooped to such a petty act of revenge, but he didn’t even leave me the opportunity to decide that. So it was as if I’d written: ASK ME IF I HAVE A WORKOUT PARTNER… AND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, ASK ABOUT MY SEX LIFE, TOO in bold letters across my forehead with a red indelible marker. No, I had no workout partner. And then, Cory said the magic words; words I had been beaming into his mind, willing him to say. “It seems to me that if I were to work with you, it would be easy, us being so similar in build, and all.” Damn! Did that actually work? I wondered just how similar ‘similar’ was. I had on a pair of cut-off sweats that reached down to just above my knees and a tank top, so he had little trouble seeing what I had. He, on the other hand, was still wrapped up like Nanook of the North. I figured I had to take a chance. “Kinda hard to tell, with all that clothing you have on.” Cory immediately stood up and unzipped the jersey top, allowing the front to fall open. There seemed to be a brief moment of decision, then he pulled the two sides apart and shrugged it off his shoulders. It fell to the floor. So did my jaw. Chiseled. Like from a block of translucent marble. I mean, we’re talking individual fibers of muscle glowing underneath nicely tanned, flawless, blemish-less, hair-free skin. And did I mention the veins? Big fat ones over each biceps. Thick over his hairless forearms. Millions of them all over his hairless pecs. And did I mention his pecs? Hard. Flat. Very solid. His nipples were long and thick. And very erect. Not a lot of bulk on his frame, but not a lot else, either. I guessed maybe three or four percent body fat. Not starving or anorexic. Just hard. Like my cock. And did I mention my cock? My cock began to stir and I wondered if I should even pretend to be worried about him seeing me get hard. His eyes were still locked on mine, searching for something. I waited to see if he would flash a look at my crotch, but they stayed even, steady. I tried to be as polite, but curiosity got the better of me. I intended to just let them drift down, as though I was professionally appraising his body for future reference, but by the time I got to the flat, rippled surface of his abdominals, I had given up all pretense. And, sure enough, as my gaze ran down to his waist, I could not help catch a glimpse of what was steadily, very dramatically, becoming an insistent bulge in his pant-leg. And did I mention thick? I mean, like mine thick. Cory’s cock grew harder, thicker, quicker than I had ever seen a cock grow hard and thick. I thought he might pass out from the loss of blood elsewhere. I mean, I’ve gotten a little light-headed when my tool started draining off too much blood too quickly. Like now. It was a good thing I was sitting down. Or at least it was until I started really getting hard. Then it became really uncomfortable really fast. When I finally pulled my eyes away from the swelling that decorated Cory’s leg, I found myself still locked in his gaze. No irascible smile. No mischievous grin. No sly raising of the eyebrows, asking wordless questions, raising unthinkable hopes. Just that same, steady scrutiny. I didn’t even know if he was waiting for anything. What was I supposed to do? Strip, as well? “Nice.” Cory’s head cocked to the side a bit. “What?” The question startled me. Didn’t he know what he looked like? Didn’t he know what affect he was having on me? “Your body. Nice. Good foundation there. You set your mind to it and I could have you big as me in a year.” I was hoping to get him to extend his membership. “One year?” “Yeah. I think so. You gotta be ready to work, though.” “I work. That’s not a problem. When do we start?” How about tonight? My place? “How about tomorrow morning? I’ve got a guy that comes in and covers the desk in the morning so I can get my own routine in.” “That’s fine. What time?” “Eight o’clock?” “Fine.” My eyes dropped intentionally to his erection which was pressing with great persistence against the fabric of his sweats. This guy was hung. Thick, long, and…and…leaking. Man, I couldn’t believe the size of the wet spot which was spreading out just a couple of inches above his right knee. And he seemed to be completely unconcerned about it. Not the least bit uncomfortable, either physically or emotionally. Did he walk around with a ten inch hard-on and a gallon of pre-cum dripping down his leg all the time so that it didn’t even matter? “You seem to have developed quite a leak there.” “Yeah. Happens all the time.” “You ever, uh, take care of it?” “Sometimes. Sometimes I just leave it alone and it goes away after a while.” The guy gets a ten inch iron rod down his pant-leg and doesn’t even want to do anything about it? Man. I mean, I’d heard of self-abuse, but this was ridiculous. And here I was, my own cock so hard and throbbing it was beginning to peek out from the bottom of my shorts. I could feel my rather considerable balls begin to churn and I thought I was going to cum in sympathy for what this guy must be experiencing. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any more. “You want me to take care of that for you?” “Sure. If you want. Can you make it hurt?” That did it. The floodgates opened and three feet of bench before me was suddenly slathered with a thick coating of my hot, unexpected cum. Look, ma. No hands! And Cory was just as suddenly down on his belly on the bench, licking up every last drop of that sudden deluge. I mean, I’d seen lines of coke disappear slower than that. And he didn’t stop there. His lips grasped the head of my still protruding cock and licked and cleaned it, allowing me the opportunity to admire the knotted, rigid muscles of his back at close range. When he had completely drained my cock of its contents and licked the exposed portion of it clean, he stood back up and made a motion so swift my eyes could hardly follow it. One second he was clothed from the waist down. The next he was completely naked. Hard thighs. Hard calves. Hard abdominals and obliques. Hard, firm ass. And hard, hard, hard, hard cock. I mean a mean-kinda hard. It didn’t look like I would need to do much to make it hurt. It was already doing a pretty good job on its own. And the reason I knew that was that I was staring right at a duplicate copy of my own prodigious tool. He’s cut were I’m cut. He’s veined were I’m veined. His balls hang down where my balls hang down. And he is thick — and I mean thick — where I’m thick. I knew exactly what this cock wanted. I knew just where to chew, just where to suck, just where to lick and tease, and just how much it wanted to be squeezed. And squeeze I did. I grabbed it with both hands and wrapped my fingers around as far as they would reach. And then I squeezed. I squeezed and pulled it down, forcing it to bend until it was pressed against his bloated ball sac. And then I grabbed that sac and its contents and began to squeeze them as well. I pulled and squeezed and looked up to see what he was feeling. Cory’s eyes were clamped shut, his face screwed up in silent suffering. But there was a look of such joy beneath that exquisite agony I knew he was getting exactly what he needed. And his body was becoming more tense by the minute. Corded muscles, sharp and defined, began to press against each square inch of his skin. His arms raised and reached out, each hand grabbing a lock on a locker and pulling against them. He was not huge, not like me, but he was so cut-up, so hard that I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Yeah, kid. You want to look like me. Well that goes the same for me. I want to feel the pain you’re feeling; the agony, the pressure, the extreme, pulverizing, ecstatic bliss. I want my mind blown like yours is. I want to not think twice about getting a hard-on and letting my huge balls leak all over whatever I’m wearing. I want to walk up to the nearest guy and tell him to hurt me, knowing — somehow really knowing — the guy will know exactly what it is I need. I bit hard on his shaft. I clamped down with my hands, my huge forearms bulging with veins and muscles. Then I took his balls in my mouth and began to chew on them, as well. I didn’t want to kill the guy. I wasn’t out for blood. But I knew exactly how far to go with this. Cory’s cock grew darker. As mine would. It began to throb. As mine would. It began to leak again. As mine would. As mine was. And then it began to spurt. As mine surely would have, had I not just come a few minutes before, myself. And through it all, he didn’t make a sound. Not a grunt, not a cry, not a whimper, not a plea. And when I had drunk down every last bit of what was one of the biggest loads of jiz I had ever been attacked by, he grabbed my hair, pulled it back, and looked into my eyes. “Feels alright.” So, here it was, almost exactly a year later, and we were both sporting twenty-three inch guns. I’d never seen anyone attack a routine like this guy did. I told him how important it was to let the muscle rest and heal, that it was as important a part of the routine as anything else. But for the first couple of months, it appeared he didn’t believe me. It was like he was racing toward some goal, or like he didn’t believe the goal was even possible, or maybe worth it, without a whole lot of pain and suffering. I mean, I understood about the pain and suffering. What bodybuilder didn’t? But this guy was into it big time. And it just got to the point around the gym that everyone stopped thinking twice about this guy running around with a huge erection and wet spot decorating his right thigh. And you could measure the intensity of his workout by the size of both. It was easy for me, at first. Hell, I had six years of work to my advantage. But he closed the gap quick and soon I was playing catch-up to his thighs. Then when I evened that score, his arms would jump ahead. Then his chest. Then his lats. Then his delts. After 12 months, I still haven’t gotten that one back. This guy’s delts are huge. I don’t want to give the impression I have any regrets about this at all. After six years, I thought I’d reached my peak, physically. Twenty-one and a half inch biceps and a fifty-four inch chest seemed pretty good to me. It was easy for me to maintain my body and not have to do a lot of ridiculous dieting and all the other insane things guys aiming for competition had to do. But then along came hurricane Cory and suddenly I’m anabolic Annie again like I’m going for my first state championship. And it felt good. I mean really good. I was getting to the point where I didn’t even mind the fact that I matched Cory’s incessant hard-on, inch for inch, hour for hour. Because there was always Cory to help me tame the beast. As the size of our physiques grew, so did our appetite for stimulation. I found myself withstanding pain he inflicted on me far beyond what I thought the human body could endure. I would marvel at both our tolerances as we pulled and pressed and stretched and punished each other’s body in our work and play. My balls were so tough that I never had to wear a jock anymore. Whereas before, just walking caused them to swing painfully against my thigh if I wasn’t wearing one, now I could take a direct hit and revel in the cramping pain it brought on. The same was true for the rest of my body. Our lovemaking consisted of a lot of wrestling and exertion, pulling and stretching against each other’s increasing strength. And the harder we fought, the harder we came. And came and came and came. We tried to see who could force his way up the other one’s ass with his thick, juicy cock, but losing was winning, so the effort was for the fun of it, instead. He wouldn’t move in with me. He would come over after I got off work and we would screw and suck each other until the wee hours of the morning then do it all over again the next day. But he would never spend the whole night. I told him I felt a need to be with him after we made love but he said that wasn’t something he was into. So, no matter how deeply we kissed, no matter how hot and hard we fucked, no matter how tightly we held each other as our cocks shot their magnificent loads into each others bodies, he was always quick with the good-bye. At one point I tried to make an issue of it, hoping he would at least talk to me about it, explain his need to get away. But all I got was another indecipherable response. “When the year is up. Wait.” And though it’s been frustrating, it seems he’s going to be good to his word. Over the past few weeks, as the year comes to a close, he has been dropping little hints about something he has in store for us. I know enough now that I won’t even bother to get any more information out of him. His most expressive moment is still at the culmination of the most mind-bending, cock-exploding, ball-busting, muscle-swelling sex free-for-all when his amazing gold-flecked eyes lock onto mine and he says, “Feels alright.” All I can do is wait. It’s just a few more days. End Part One
m/m Grow Closer (Chapter 17/18/19 added 18/09/2020)
Astromuscle posted a topic in Stories(AM: This story is going to be a long chronicle. The growth is slow, and almost secondary to the story. This focuses instead on men exploring a relationship with growth being a part of it. I have had so much fun writing it so I hope you enjoy!) Chapter 1 Jeremy couldn't believe the situation before him. He had finally taken the plunge and downloaded an app. A dating app. It. Was... Awful! Men throwing themselves at each other dick first. The second you wanted to go on a date that might not lead to sex you get blocked. It was like a forest of dicks, but dicks were the weeds. Sure, they can look nice sometimes, but it's not the way Jeremy wanted to be introduced to someone. Then Jeremy came across the cutest guy. Handsome, and with a great body to boot. Even better he seems really sweet. It seemed too good to be true, which made Jeremy think it wasn't real. That being said Jeremy enjoyed the conversation, and the idea of this hot guy being into him was kinda nice. He seemed genuinely interested in Jeremy too, which was confusing. Jeremy was slightly shorter then average at 5' 7”. He hated it, but some guys found it cute so he just decided to accept it. That being said no one he had found liked his body as it was. Heavier, but not even to the degree that chasers would be interested, not that Jeremy wanted to be that big. This other guy had the body of Jeremy's dream. 6' 2” and built strong, but lean. He said he had tried a few bodybuilding shows but hadn't won anything yet. For his part, he seemed interested in Jeremy's hobbies. Jeremy told him how he had taken martial arts as a kid, but now at this weight he was nervous about his physical capabilities. Dreamboat said that shouldn't hold him back. Jeremy described enjoying video games, being a teacher, spending time helping run the school play. Mr Perfect to his credit took it all in stride. He even seemed excited when Jeremy said they were putting on The Producers. Turns out Mr Slightly-Less-Than-Perfect does not have a great singing voice, but he was trying to sing 'Betrayed' from the play. Both sent laughing messages about it. Thus Jeremy was nervous when finally tall, dark, and pitchy wanted to meet up, Jeremy was disappointed that the dream would end. On the off chance that this was real he had to go, but he was also pretty sure he was being catfished. He made sure to pick a public place in a populated area, tell people where he was going and when he would be back. Now he sat at a small table in a nice pizza place, jaw dropped. As Jeremy watched the man who came in and approached he was not sure is he had been catfished or not. The face of this man was similar enough that Jeremy knew he was the one from the profile, but Mr Amazing was not 6' 2” and not athletically muscular. He was easily 6' 4” and his shirt was a ticking time bomb that was going to explode from his body any minute as his muscles stretched an unforgiving cotton shirt.