Ro20316 Posted April 8, 2020 Share Posted April 8, 2020 There was soemthinf off since the beggining of that hand shake and the result was perfect. Garret fantasy is in other words that our main guy is the love of his life and he wants to grow big alongside him. It was cure and kinda heartbreaking at the same time. He has seen many fantasies and by far the last two had been the more personal they are not shallow like the first ones, something is changing here... BTW dont u think for a second we are going to forget about that smell on the miffle of the fantasy, That's the spell taking place. and ona side note. I can not stop imaginug Garret big, hot, ripped as this guy and now i kinda want to see Garret fullfilling his deepest growth fantasy https://mymusclevideo.com/99681/who-is-this/ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
amauiguy Posted April 8, 2020 Share Posted April 8, 2020 Brilliant and well crafted writing! Thank you for sharing this story with us. Looking forward to seeing how this all plays out. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 10, 2020 Author Share Posted April 10, 2020 Chapter 27 Back at the apartment that night, after Alexander had dropped Mo off from their date, I filled him in on everything that happened. “Bravo, Garrett,” Mo said. “You’re telling me. When I first came out of it, nothing made sense. Everything looked wrong, and it felt like two entire years had passed. No one tells you that time travel makes you dizzy, but it really does.” “You didn’t actually travel through time,” Mo corrected. “You had a sustained vision of a possible future, but to the external world, seconds passed.” “The experience was entirely different. It was a few hours before I felt like me again.” “What was the hardest part of the readjustment?” “I grieved my marriage to Oz, and I spent a year living with Garrett. It still kind of feels like all of that happened. It’s becoming more and more like a vivid dream I had, but it’s so hard to shake.” “Yes, yes, but that’s not what I meant. What was the hardest part of readjusting to this body?” Mo was fishing. He wanted me to confess that I secretly liked having ever larger, more obscene muscles. He wasn’t wrong. I did. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of that answer. I looked down at the bulge in my crotch. “Having a sex drive again.” “Really?” “Well, having this sex drive again. In the vision, the spell finished, and I lost almost all of my sex drive. Like, I had next to none. And then, when I snapped back into this hormone factory…It’s been hard enough having a sex drive amped up past 11 compared to my normal sex drive, but to go from zero to 100? If he’d been willing, I might have taken Garrett right then, right there.” Mo was flabbergasted. “See, that’s what confuses me. This is a possible future in which the two of you have sex. That’s the whole point of these visions. He could have done anything, and you would have seen the future where you consented to that, even if it is an extremely unlikely future, it has to be at least a possible one. Garrett clearly wants to be the one in charge. In his vision of the future, he could have dominated you in your office, turned you into his muscular sex slave. You’re at the point where that sounds appealing, so there’s a possible future where you would’ve consented to that.” I nodded in agreement, only slightly ashamed of myself. “But in his vision, the two of you don’t have sex for two years?” “His mother is Catholic,” I suggested. “I think he couldn’t actually enjoy sex with me unless it hurt nobody.” “His father was a caster, and his mother is a Catholic?” A random memory from my year with Garrett came back to me. “When I met her,” I paused for a second reveling in how weird that memory was, “because I met her, she insisted that she saw her husband’s gifts as God-given. She was the one who convinced him to only do ‘miracles,’ and never for money. She was a trip. Everything was Jesus for her. She disapproved of my mere existence. And she laced into Garrett when he divorced Cara.” “Ah, a mother like that would explain the waiting. And how closely you bonded with his children. He couldn’t enjoy having you unless his kids were comfortable with you in their lives.” “Garrett also made it clear that he wanted cohabitation with no prospect of marriage.” “And then a year of waiting? He knows magic exists. He could’ve pulled some strings, get someone to cast a spell to be bigger than you.” “He had to earn it,” I explained. “Even when we were in love, he saw us as rivals. It was so weird.” “Two giant muscle men fucking. I mean, I’ve seen that porno, but you lived it. How was the sex?” “By the end of the fantasy, I was so ready to burst that it was less than a minute of sexual contact before I was ready to come.” “And how was that minute?” “Surprisingly satisfying.” Mo seemed bored with my answer. “Now for the real question, the reason you saw that version of the future in the first place. Do you think he cast the seduction malediction?” “His vision did involve me getting divorced. I think he is worth following up on.” Mo laughed at me, mocking me. “I really don’t.” “Why not?” “You don’t see it, do you?” “See what?” “Okay, we’ll keep him on the suspect list because I value your intuition, and you may have experienced something you can’t put words to. You were practically married to the man in an alternate timeline. But when you see what I see, you’ll realize how silly it was to keep him on the list.” “Thank you.” As soon as I finished speaking, a yawn forced itself from my mouth. “I should get to bed,” I added, stretching. “It’s been a long couple of years today.” “Are you going to be mentally prepared for your 6 AM phone call to Oz tomorrow?” “He’s my husband. I love him. I don’t think I ever stopped loving him. Even in Garrett’s fantasy, I didn’t leave Oz. Oz left me.” “Good. Are you ready to stake out Quincy’s desk to find out who hired him to film you?” “Oh, am I ever.” After masturbating four more times, I fell asleep peacefully. 18 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 10, 2020 Author Share Posted April 10, 2020 Chapter 28 My morning call with Oz was cut short, on his end this time. The locals had overlooked an important detail of the new branch, and he had to run to fix it. “If I don’t,” he said, “I won’t make it back for the 10th. And that’s still my number one goal.” After Garrett’s version of the future, Oz’s desperation to get home was a real assurance, so I kissed the phone and let him go. It felt like I hadn’t spoken to him in forever, but that was just my memory playing tricks with time—the two of us had had intense phone sex only the night before last. Mid-morning, Mo swung by my office so we could go stakeout Quincy together. “Ready, Eenie?” he asked. I was halfway through an important document, so I said, “Just about. Give me five minutes.” Mo waited by the door, obviously bored. A minute later, he said, “The painting’s higher than it used to be.” “Yes,” I said, aggravated. “You knew that already.” “Right,” he said. “Never mind. I must be bored waiting for my brother.” I went back to my document. Another minute passed, and Mo asked, “Do you think Quincy was able to hack into the accounting database?” “If he was, he didn’t tell me.” I looked up at Mo and glowered. “I’m almost done. Forbear.” Less than five minutes later, I finished the document, and the two of us headed off for the IT department on the fourth floor. Near the elevator, I saw Izzy carrying a large box to the far side of the room. His biceps bulged deliciously, and I had to look away, or I would have followed him just to watch his ass sway. Mo noticed my distress, and we walked a little faster. When we got off on the fourth floor, I saw Jayce pushing his cart. When he saw me, he lifted his shirt to show off his spectacular six pack and one of his nipples. Then, he dropped his shirt, grabbed his crotch with one hand, and made the “call me” gesture with the other. I looked down at the carpet and sped up again. Mo ran after me. “Damn, they are not playing around,” he said. “If we were baboons, they would have presented their rear quarters to you.” “Give them ‘til next week. I’m sure they’ll try it.” When we got to Quincy’s desk, he was hard at work typing something. When he saw us, he jumped up so fast he knocked over his desk chair. “Calm down, Quincy. This is my brother, Cayden Todd.” As soon as Quincy steadied himself, he launched into another litany. “It’s not my lunch break. You said you’d come by Friday on my lunch break and see who picked up the flash drive. I don’t even have the empty flash drive ready. Friday mornings are brutal, and I’ve fallen behind. And I haven’t cracked the accounting database yet. It’s taking longer than I thought because I don’t have a profile in there. No intern does. This company really undervalues us. I was going to take another whack at it after lunch. I got into the employee database yesterday. I thought I could tunnel into the accounting database more easily from another secure server, but it was a total wipeout. I haven’t tried today because it would’ve been pointless. One thing I have learned is that the accounting database updates every day at 12:15. Noon. Not midnight. Either someone thought they were setting it to 12:15 AM, or the person who made that decision figured everyone would be at lunch anyways. If I tried to crack into the database this morning, all my work would be undone when it reset. Don’t get mad at me please.” Mo turned to me and said, “You did not exaggerate him one little bit.” “Relax, Quincy. I’m here for the footage. I want to see it.” “Yes. You said you would. I’ve got that here.” He handed me a flash drive. “I’ll take that,” Mo said, snatching it out of my hand. At lightning speed, Quincy explained, “It doesn’t have any footage from today because I’ve been so busy. But it has every other day this week, and Friday of last week.” “Thank you,” I said. “Where would you suggest we hide so we can see your desk?” He shrugged. “People only come down to IT if they want us to fix something that doesn’t belong to the company. Otherwise, they call us to them. You can sit anywhere, and whoever comes in here is probably the person who paid me.” “Fair,” Mo said, “but we don’t want to be seen.” Quincy recoiled a little. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just get so nervous around hot guys, and you, Mr. Todd, are like the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.” After a deep breath, he added, “Except for you, Mr. Myers.” After a second, he shook his head. “If you’re brothers, why do you have different last names?” “He took his husband’s last name,” a familiar voice said from behind us. I turned around and saw Mr. Carr standing there holding his cell phone in both hands like an infant. “Sorry to interrupt, but my phone just went on the fritz, and the scuttlebutt is that Mr. Adkins here can fix it on the QT.” “Quincy. Please. And I’ll gladly fix your phone, Mr. Carr, but I normally charge for this service. Since it’s technically not part of my internship.” Mr. Carr put the phone on Quincy’s desk, then fished a $50 out of his pocket and offered it to the boy. “Will this cover the charge?” Quincy nodded emphatically snatching the money before Mr. Carr could change his mind. “Good morning, boys,” he said, and walked away. “So,” Mo said, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Where’s a good place to hide?” “The bathroom,” Quincy said sincerely. “In view of your desk,” Mo clarified. Quincy shrugged, and I pointed to an unoccupied desk in the corner. “Who sits there?” I asked. “Jennifer. But she doesn’t work Fridays.” “So, we’ll hide behind Jennifer’s desk.” Quincy looked back and forth between my brother and me. “Will you both fit?” Mo pointed to the desk along the opposite wall. “Whose desk is that?” “Richard.” “Does he work Fridays?” “Richard was fired two weeks ago.” I could tell that answer confused Mo. “So, no one sits there now?” “You didn’t ask who sits there. You asked whose desk it was. It’s Richard’s.” “Right.” Not pushing this any further, I turned to Mo and said, “You’ll hide behind Richard’s. I’ll hide behind Jennifer’s.” “And I’ll fix Mr. Carr’s phone on my lunch break.” An instant message popped up on Quincy’s computer. After he read it, he went to leave the IT room, but I stopped him. “Are you forgetting something?” He grabbed Mr. Carr’s phone. “Thank you.” “Anything else?” I asked. “Like an empty flash drive?” “Right!” he said. He opened a desk drawer, pulled out a flash drive, and put it on the middle of his desk. “Have to run now,” he said as he raced out of the room. I checked my phone to make sure the ringer was turned off. It was 11:30 AM, and most people’s lunch breaks lasted thirty minutes. It was going to be a long hour. 18 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 10, 2020 Author Share Posted April 10, 2020 Chapter 29 Scrunched behind Jennifer’s desk, I realized just how long this hour was going to be. With my recent gain in height and added fullness to my ass, even sitting on the ugly blue carpet that covered the floor, my head stuck out over the desk unless I hunched over. The whole point was to observe the IT room without being seen. I ended up moving her desk plant to obscure my face. I was literally hiding behind a plant, like in a cartoon. As if that wasn’t absurd enough, Jennifer had angled her desk so it was parallel to the wall, her chair in between. Thus, I had to fit my entirety between the wall and her desk—and I couldn’t move the chair without it looking even more suspicious, so I ended up sitting with my knees pressed up against my chest, my feet flat on the floor. In that position, my pecs swelled out to press into my legs, and my thighs spread out to press into my chest. Because I couldn’t move her desk chair, I was also forced to contend with my width. If I sat comfortably, my left arm stuck out from the side. It wouldn’t be the first thing someone noticed when they walked in the room, but it did leave me visible from the door. So, I had to wrap my arms around my legs. Well, as far as they would go. My full biceps had to contend for room with my thighs and pecs. My lats were wide enough that just by themselves I almost was too wide for my hiding spot. I wasn’t quite there yet, but I was getting there. The whole position left little room for my cock and balls—I was basically tightly sealing them in a prison of muscle while flexing all of my major muscle groups. The whole thing was erotic enough, especially considering my hair trigger these days, that my cock was half-erect the entire time. It too fought for space with my thighs. I felt like a cork wedged into a wine bottle. Holding the position also took exertion, which meant that I was working up a little sweat. Normally, I couldn’t smell my own musk—at least not as strongly as others could—but my face that close to my armpits, cramped in that small space, I could smell myself. I smelled delicious. My cock thrummed a little harder as I rode the wave of sexuality caused by my musk. Mo was right. I needed to steer clear of the gym until this all blew over. Richard’s desk was perpendicular to the wall, so Mo was having a much easier time of it. We really should have switched places, but it was too late to do anything by the time I realized it. We sat like that in silence for 45 minutes. No one came in. Not even someone innocently looking for technical support. It was just me and Mo in the room, sitting silently, hiding behind desks like an endurance-strength game of hide-and-seek. I was too nervous to check my phone. It might cast a glow to draw attention to me. It might distract my attention when someone snuck in. It might break because I didn’t have enough room to use it. So, in all my immensity, I sat there, just staring at the door to the IT room through a plant. For 45 minutes. Just when I thought that we had been made and no one was coming, the door to the room opened. Jayce came in with the mail cart. As he pushed the cart, he danced. There was no music playing, and he wasn’t wearing earbuds or headphones; he just danced. More specifically, he pouted his lips and thrust his chest and hips. I swear I could see the outline of his cock bounce and zag as it strained through the fabric of his pants. He walked up to Quincy’s desk and picked up the flash drive. He put it in his left pocket. From his cart, he pulled out an envelope, and dropped it on the desk where the flash drive had been. Before Jayce could get away, Mo popped out from behind Richard’s desk. “Hey, there,” Mo said, pouring his charm on a little thick. Jayce said nothing. Mo floated around the desk and got really close to Jayce. “You caught me. What are you going to do with me?” Jayce looked confused. “Caught you doing what?” “Hiding from you.” A coy smirk painted itself across Jayce’s face. “Why were you hiding from me?” “I wanted to give you this,” Mo said, slipping a piece of paper in Jayce’s left pocket. His fingers were inches from grazing the outline of Jayce’s legendary, internet-famous cock. Jayce looked down at Mo’s hand. “Anything else you want to give me?” “Read the note. Sunday.” “Sunday?” Jayce asked with a note of hesitation. “The day after tomorrow,” Mo reminded him. He then tucked some of Jayce’s stray blond hair behind his ear. “Read the note in private. Be there Sunday.” “Sunday,” Jayce said, this time as though it was a double entendre. “Until Sunday, mystery man.” With that, Jayce backed the cart out of the IT room and closed the door behind him. I stood up. It felt so good to stretch. “Geez, Eenie. You looked like a whale emerging from the ocean.” “Why did you let him go?” I asked, ignoring his description. “Because he wasn’t the one who hired Quincy to put up the camera.” “Obviously,” I said, coming out fully from behind Jennifer’s desk. “But he was hired by whoever it was. We might have learned something if…” “Learn something? From him?” “Someone’s paying him.” “Yeah, well,” Mo picked up the envelope Jayce had left on the desk. “I’m guessing he was hired anonymously, like Quincy, and he isn’t asking too many questions.” “He might know something.” “True,” Mo said. “But he’s a beautiful hunk of dumb who never finished high school. He bought my cover story. If I wanted to give him a piece of paper, why would I hide from him in the IT office? That makes no earthly sense. That doesn’t even make sense in porn logic. He works in the mailroom for crying out loud. Maybe, just maybe, if I was paranoid and shy, I might do something convoluted like that. But if that was the case, why wouldn’t I just email him? He might know something about who hired him, sure. But I doubt he even knows what he knows.” Satisfied with that explanation, I moved on to the next issue. “What was on the piece of paper you put in his pocket?” “Your address, and explicit instructions to come over for sex on Sunday.” “Mo! Why the fuck would you do that? You and Alexander…” “Are just fine. The note makes it clear that he’s there to have sex with you.” “That’s worse!” “Is it? He was hired to seduce you. This will make him think he’s succeeding and seducing you. And you’re not actually going to fuck him, are you, big brother?” “Not on purpose. But I do have a cock that never feels satisfied and am under a spell that makes me horny as all get out. You didn’t have to make my weekend more challenging.” “I’ll be right there in the apartment. Alexander is staying over with us all weekend. You’re not going to cave with both your brother and your best friend chaperoning you. And this way, you can take a peek at his dirty little fantasy, and maybe learn something.” “You said something similar about Izzy. But Izzy’s coming over tomorrow.” “I’m not going to schedule both temptations for the same day,” Mo said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “There’s only so much Alexander and I can do.” There was a major flaw in his plan. “You keep saying I’m going to learn things from these visions, but all I seem to learn is how many men want to fuck me.” “What was the name of Garrett’s college boyfriend?” Mo asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Dennis. Don’t know his last name, but he was on the hockey team.” “Is Quincy Adkins a virgin?” “Yes.” “What was Vernon Bailey’s room number at the Four Seasons?” “I don’t know the room number, but it was on the 6th floor, at the end of the hall from the elevator.” “What sound does Alexander make when he orgasms?” “He squeaks like a mouse.” Mo shook his head exasperatedly. “You’ve learned a lot of things.” “Nothing useful.” “Counting the Eye of Horus, you are five for five. I checked. All of those answers are correct. None of them is particularly useful, no, but they’re all true.” “That doesn’t help us figure out who cast the spell.” “This spell is weirder than any seduction malediction I’ve ever read about. I had to make sure that while these visions are trying to seduce you, they still aren’t lying to you. We know more than you think we do, but even if these wells had been completely dry, eliminating suspects is useful information. On top of that, Izzy and Jayce were hired specifically to seduce you. You are quite likely to learn something from their versions of the future. Something to help us identify their employers. And we’ll know for 100% certain that it’s true.” I admit there was a logic to it, but it felt farfetched, even accepting that I was under a malediction designed to make me cheat on my husband. “You might be wrong about Izzy and Jayce. They might know nothing.” “But we won’t know that until we try.” Mo sounded a little frustrated. “Besides,” he continued, “that’s not my only plan of attack. I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire.” “Such as?” “When I gave Jayce the note, I switched the flash drive in his pocket for a different one.” “Why? The one on Quincy’s desk was empty.” “The one I gave to Jayce has a program on it. It’s like a GPS tracker. If someone boots it up…” he corrected himself, “When someone boots it up, I’ll be able to find it like that.” He snapped. “It’ll send a message to my phone.” “Then why didn’t you just leave that flash drive on Quincy’s desk? We wouldn’t have had to stakeout the desk or anything.” Mo frowned. “That wouldn’t have been fun. Besides, there was a chance that the person who hired Quincy, Izzy, and Jayce would have picked it up himself. And if he did, we’d want to be here to catch him in the act. This was a back-up plan.” “You could’ve put it on the desk while we staked it out.” Through a small fit of laughter, Mo said, “I expected someone smart to pick it up, not Jayce. If I’d expected Jayce, I would’ve been sitting on the desk next to the flash drive. But, because I expected someone smart, I had like eight plans in place simultaneously. One of them involved you overpowering someone trying to run away.” Mo put his hands on Quincy’s computer. “Someone smart probably would’ve checked the flash drive to authenticate it. That’s why I took the flash drive with the real footage on it.” Mo took out a flash drive and waggled it in the air. “This isn’t the one Quincy left on the desk. This is the one with the real footage.” “When did you…?” “When you checked your phone. It only takes a second to swap flash drives.” I was gobsmacked. Mo continued. “The series of events I thought most likely was more complicated. I expected the pick-up guy to use Quincy’s computer to check that there was footage on the drive. Then, while he was covering his tracks, I would switch the real flash drive with the tracking device.” I was impressed. I’d had difficulty playing hide-and-seek, and Mo was playing 4-dimensional chess. “Don’t feel bad, Eenie,” he said, slapping me with the envelope Jayce had left on Quincy’s desk. “You trust people. I’ve spent the last decade learning how to mistrust people and read the fine print. Hell, I learned to write the fine print.” “Thanks,” I said, accepting the pity. “We should probably read that letter before Quincy gets back,” I added, pointing to the envelope. Mo opened it and looked inside. He showed me the document. “It’s just a request for a second flash drive. Pick up at the same time one week from today.” I grabbed the letter and looked at it front and back. It had been written on a computer and printed on generic computer paper. There was no way we could identify the person who wrote the letter from the letter itself. Mo took the letter back, returned it to the envelope, and put it on Quincy’s desk where Jayce had left it. Then, he looked at me and smiled maliciously. “So, what are you wearing for your date with Izzy tomorrow?” 16 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post TQuintA Posted April 10, 2020 Author Popular Post Share Posted April 10, 2020 Chapter 30 First thing I did when I got home Friday night was text Oz to let him know that Alexander, Mo, and I were staying in all weekend, so I might not be quick to respond if he texted or called. The three of us spent most of Saturday just lounging around, enjoying each other’s company. It was so casual that Alexander and Mo didn’t even leave their pajamas. For the last six months, I’d been sleeping naked, and my recent transformations reinforced that habit. Partially, this was because I didn’t have any pajamas that fit. However, even if I had some pajamas, I was likely to still sleep nude out of fear that my morning wood would shred through the bottoms. Considerately, during his shopping trip on Tuesday, Mo had bought me some jeans and t-shirts that were likely to fit, and this was my first day to try them out. The jeans were a little snugger than I was used to, especially in the ass, but I had more ass and thigh muscle and cock and balls than I was used to. My legs and ass filled out the pants beautifully, stretching the seams just a little, having nowhere else to go. As a result, my junk was pushed to the front. The zipper wasn’t strained to the breaking point, but the fabric flap that is supposed to cover it had been forced to the side, leaving the zipper plainly visible. The t-shirt was even more scandalous. The crew neck I’d tried on was far too constricting on my neck, so I put on one with a deep V. My chest hair plumed out of the top like black smoke from a chimney. My shoulders pulled the shirt out, stretching the V and pulling the material taut against my chest. My pecs pushed the material out further, and my thicket of chest hair created a visible pattern through the fabric. My arms were almost too big for the sleeves. I constantly found myself pulling the sleeves back down because the bulge of my bicep had forced them to ride up. And every time they did that, some of my armpit hair would come out to say hello. The shirt included some stretchy material (lycra? spandex? I didn’t ask), so the tapered waist was able to stretch over my chest and still sit tight around my middle. I was, sadly enough, too big for this shirt, as all six of my abs and my Adonis belt were easily seen through the fabric, and if I raised my arms or shoulders up to reach for anything, an inch of my midriff would peek through the gap between my shirt and jeans. I caught Alexander stealing quick glimpses a handful of times throughout the day, but when I told Mo about it, all he said was, “Can’t blame the guy for having eyes.” We’d had to lie to get Alexander on board. He knew that Izzy, (“the muscleman from the mailroom” as Alexander called him), was coming over for an informal get-together that night. “I’m supposed to pretend that Ian is willing to cheat on his husband?” Alexander asked for the fifth time that day. “Yes,” Mo reassured him. “It was the only way I could get him to come over.” “And you’re not doing it at the office because there are people spying on you there.” We’d shown Alexander just enough of the footage to convince him of that. “Exactly,” I said. “At some point, I’m going to get Izzy alone in my bedroom. You and Mo can go through his phone while I get some info out of him.” “I don’t know, Cayden,” Alexander said, turning to Mo. “This seems like something that could get us in trouble with the police.” Mo kissed Alexander on the temple. “Okay. You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” Then, he tempted Alexander with, “But you know that once the news breaks, it’s going to be all over the office. If you help, you can be at the heart of the story. Because you were there.” He was good. “Okay, okay,” Alexander surrendered. “I’m in. But if we get arrested, I’m testifying against both of you.” “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I told him. At 9 PM sharp, Izzy was at the intercom asking to be buzzed into the building. Seconds later, he was knocking at my door. Mo welcomed him, in case he tried to pounce me at the doorway. Izzy did think he was coming over for a booty call, after all. Izzy had dressed to impress all right. His face was freshly shaved, and the smell of aftershave curled off him like waves. Even from the armchair in the living room I could smell it. In all the tumult of the last few days, I’d forgotten how sharp is face looked. He was clearly cutting for competition. After a very successful bulk. Izzy’s shorter than Mo, but he had to outweigh him by at least 25 pounds. All that extra bulk made Izzy look deliciously wide. And his clothes did everything they could to show off that width. His pants were even tighter than mine. I didn’t know if he could sit down in them. Forget painted on, they looked surgically fused to his legs. I could see every striation, vein, and muscle through the denim. He was also wearing a leather jacket that probably fit him perfectly twenty pounds ago. With his current size, though, he could never have gotten that thing over his pecs, so he left it unzippered. Underneath it, he wore a ribbed sweater, cream-colored. It had to be the nicest thing he owned that still fit him. Mo took his jacket, patting the pockets to double check that the phone was inside. Now that Izzy was out of his jacket, Alexander’s eyes burst out of his head. Izzy’s arms stretched the fabric of his sleeves to the point of exploding. “I don’t think I introduced myself when I invited you here,” Mo said. “My name’s Cayden.” Izzy nodded. “The adorable little waif on the couch is Alexander.” Alexander stood up to shake hands; Izzy nodded again. “And I believe you remember Ian.” “’Sup,” Izzy said. “What is up, indeed,” I said, rising from the armchair to greet him. “Just how big are you?” Alexander spouted. “228 this morning, little dude,” Izzy said while flexing his bicep. For a moment, I thought the fabric was going to rip down the middle, but it held. The sleeve looked exhausted, but it held. Alexander landed back on the couch. Internally, I did the math. Izzy has almost 50 pounds on Mo, and I had 12 pounds on Izzy. If Alexander hadn’t been here, Mo would’ve been the least buff guy in the room. The thought made me smile. “Is this everyone?” Izzy asked, snapping me out of my reverie. “Everyone that matters,” I said. Then, I tilted my head towards my bedroom. “There’s something in here I want to show you.” Izzy followed me into the bedroom. The absolute second the door was closed, he launched into me, grabbing my face and planting his lips on mine. I feared that this kiss alone would be enough to complete the spell—it only took a kiss in Garrett’s vision of the future—but no pennies, no wintergreen. I guess as long as I didn’t initiate the kiss, all was fair play. Surrendering to the moment, I grabbed Izzy’s shoulders to pull him up tighter into the kiss. It was the most energetic kiss I’d ever had in my life. Our heads were turning left and right, our noses smashing together and coming apart, my beard roughing up his skin, our lips never parting. When we’d finally used up our oxygen, he pulled back. Panting heavily, he said, “Happy birthday, brah,” and dove back into the kiss. I let go of his shoulders and reached for the bottom of his sweater. I slowly began to pull it off of him, continuing to kiss him all the while. It got caught on his chest, so we broke apart just long enough for him to peel it off his chest and extricate his arms from the sweater’s vice-like grips. He stood there, shirtless, heaving. His abs were etched on his stomach, visible even unflexed; his dense, veiny arms were unable to come down all the way to his sides because his lats and shoulders were so wide; his pecs were full, wide, and deeply striated. His nipples were pink and puffy. “Someone likes having his nipples sucked, I see.” I slowly strutted over to him and put his left nipple in my mouth. I drew it as deeply into my mouth as I could, my lips pressing into the immovable firmness of his chest. With my free left hand, I began to tweak, pinch, and flick his right nipple. He grunted in appreciation. I went to switch nipples, and suddenly, he pushed me with all his force. I didn’t expect it, so I stumbled back one step. However, because I outweighed him, I didn’t stumble far. “Ah,” he said, “big guy thinks he can take me on?” I whipped off my shirt in an instant, tearing the collar and the sleeves in the process. We began to circle each other like wrestlers on a mat. Halfway around the circle, he lunged at me. I braced for impact, and his large muscles crashed into my larger muscles. He didn’t budge me one inch. I pushed him back, and he stumbled slightly. A look of complete shock took over his face. “So those things aren’t just for show,” he said. He backed up until he was leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. Then, he kicked off his shoes, adding, “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this right.” “Winner tops?” I said, taking off my belt and throwing it to the side. I’d been barefoot all day, so I wiggled my toes to show him I was ready to go. Izzy unclasped and loosened his belt, but left it in the loops, then shook his head. “No way, brah. I’m not leaving until you’ve plowed me with that monster, and there’s no way I’m gonna lose.” “Then what does the winner get?” “Winner’s choice.” Intrigued, I nodded my agreement. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said, beckoning with his hands for me to attack. With all my might, I charged at him. Simultaneously, he jumped up to grab the doorjamb at the top of the bathroom door. He pulled himself up in less than half a second, his biceps swelling with the exertion. He tightened his core and brought his legs up parallel to the floor, just in time for his feet to slam into my chest. I went flailing backwards, landing on my back on the bed. Izzy jumped down, cracked his neck, and flexed his pecs. Before I could get up, he was on top of me. His legs straddled either side of my waist, and his hands each grabbed one of my wrists. I struggled and fought back, but he had all the leverage. I kicked my legs, futilely trying to buck him off of my stomach, but he just increased the force of his ass on my upper legs. My cock absolutely loved the friction and was fully hard. I could tell he was also hard as a rock. He was probably only five inches, maybe a little smaller, but we’d already decided who’d be fucking who when this ended. I pushed his arms up so hard that my biceps were flexed to their largest, kissing my cheeks, but gravity was on his side, and he slowly lowered my arms until he had them pinned to the bed behind me. His face hovered an inch above mine. “Give up?” I continued resisting and said, through gritted teeth. “Depends. What do you want if you win?” “You in a dog leash for a whole week. Even at work. A frilly pink one. ‘Cause you’re my little bitch.” “No way,” I said. I threw all of my weight to turn to my left, and I launched him off me. He slid to the edge of the bed, his hand still around my wrists, and I kicked him to the floor. He lost grip of me. Before he could collect himself, I rolled off the bed on top of him. My hands held down his shoulders, and I kneeled on his thighs. He wriggled back and forth, but there was no way he was coming back from this. “What’ll you get if you win?” he asked, trying to buy some time. “All I want from you is some barking,” I said. “That’s all it will take for this to end with me as the winner. Just bark for me. ‘Cause you’re my bitch.” “Never,” he said, renewing his thrashing. I bent over him and kissed him. Almost reflexively, he stuck his tongue into my mouth, and with just enough force to show him who was boss, I bit it. A short scream escaped from him, so I pulled my head back. “Was that a bark?” “No.” “All it will take is a bark.” I increased the pressure I was exerting on him, slowly stretching my chest to puff up my pecs. His face contorted into pain. “Woof,” he said. “What was that?” I said, increasing the pressure further. “Woof!” he shouted. “I believe I demanded barking, not words,” I said. From deep in his chest, a peal of barks came out of his throat. “Good boy,” I said, and got off him. I sat on the edge of the bed, and released my cock from my pants. “You’ve earned a treat,” I said, proffering him my cock. In an instant, he was on his knees getting as much of my cock in his mouth as he possibly could. With his hands, he freed my balls from my pants and squeezed them rhythmically, one in each hand. My cock was distending his face and throat, but he was a dedicated and practiced cocksucker. He managed to get all the way down my shaft to my pubes. When he reached them, he inhaled deeply through his nose, and a violent shudder went down his spine. “Aw,” I said, a tone of pity in my voice. “Has doggy cum already?” He took his mouth off my cock and nodded shamefacedly. My cock glistened with his saliva and bobbed in time with my heartbeat. “It’s okay, doggy. I would have cum too if I was sucking on a cock twice the size of my own.” Then, to rub salt in the wound, I said, “But that would mean I was sucking on a 20-inch cock.” Izzy staggered at the cock before him. His ragged breath made his glorious muscles expand and contract. “On all fours,” I commanded. Obediently, he got on his hands and knees and presented his ass to me. “Am I supposed to fuck you through your pants?” I asked. He kneeled upright, and pushed his pants lower and lower until his ass was revealed. It was a struggle for him, but, oh, was it fun to watch him struggle. He’d inch each side down just a fraction, then switch back to the other. Back and forth, furiously trying to get those jeans encasing his muscle off as quickly as possible, desperate for me to fuck him. When his ass was free and clear, he got back on all fours. “Are you ready, doggy?” I asked. He barked enthusiastically and wagged his ass in my face. “Good boy,” I said and slapped his ass. I got down on my own knees and positioned myself behind him. With my hand, I steered my unwieldy cock to line up with his asshole. “Ever taken one this big?” I asked. He shook his head, “I’ve taken big ones, but never one that big.” I slowly put my cock head in, gently easing in the first inch or two. He was the tightest thing I had ever fucked, but I had never been this big when fucking someone before. Izzy’s body stiffened from the sheer girth of my cock, so I began rubbing his lats and shoulders with my hands and made soothing shushing sounds. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” For the next twenty minutes, I slowly coaxed my cock in him, giving my doggy encouragement the whole way. When I bottomed out, a pleasant tingling ran down the length of my cock. I reached around him to scratch his belly. “That’s a good boy.” “You’re all the way in?” he asked. “All the way.” “You’re splitting me in half, dude.” “Just wait until I start thrusting.” At that, I began pulling my cock in and out. Just a little at first, enough that I could feel the sensation in my cockhead. As it went on, I thrust more and more. I was getting nearer and nearer to bliss, but nowhere near finished. Izzy, on the other hand, was breathing heavily, his skin flushed, his overdeveloped body being tested in a way it never had before. I built up the momentum, and within ten minutes, I was at full speed, my balls slapping his thighs when I hit home. I was on the razor’s edge of orgasm, and I meant to make it count. By now, there was a thin sheen of sweat all over Izzy’s body, and he was gasping for air like a marathon runner, occasionally emitting a sound that was equal parts pleasure and pain. It all magnified his musculature, making him look bigger than he was. Feeling my balls pull up closer to my body, I knew this thrust would be it. I pulled back with all my might. As if a channel changed on the television, I was standing upright, fully clothed, Izzy inches from kissing me. I pushed him away before our lips made contact. “I changed my mind,” I said. Izzy pointed at my obvious erection and the wet spot at the end of it. “You sure about that? Looks like your monster wants to come out and play.” He came back in for another kiss. Somewhere deep inside of me, I wanted to surrender. I wanted to fuck him senseless and end this whole goddamned thing. Unsure whether I was going to pull him into my bed or shove him further away, I put my arms out in front of me. When I did, I saw my wedding ring. I couldn’t do that to Oz. “Just go,” I insisted. “Make me,” he said, puffing up his chest and sticking out his chin. I slapped him with my right hand, then, with my left hand, pointed at him and shook it, scolding, “Bad dog.” Admonished, Izzy left the room. I ran to the bathroom and barely rolled down my pants before I orgasmed into the tub. It was so intense, so voluminous, that I barely made it back into my bed before I fell immediately asleep. 29 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
stewbake Posted April 10, 2020 Share Posted April 10, 2020 This is the literacy version of edging. Love it! 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jhanley1 Posted April 12, 2020 Share Posted April 12, 2020 Loving this story! Great job! 2 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 13, 2020 Author Share Posted April 13, 2020 Chapter 31 The next morning, I woke up at 5 AM with morning wood so hard that it was almost painful. Every comparison I could think of to describe the edifice growing out of my crotch—a metal rod, a steel girder, a volcano about to erupt—somehow fell short of just how intense the erection was. I could not wait for this spell to complete. I took care of my erection as quickly as I could in my bathroom, but it was almost 6 by the time I had cum enough times to get it to go soft. I threw on underwear and Oz’s robe, and went into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast. Just as the coffee finished, I saw Mo’s bedroom door open. I expected Mo or Alexander to emerge, but instead, Izzy came out. He was wearing his leather jacket without the sweater, and his jeans were zipped, but his belt was undone. “Later,” he said, waving at me as he left the apartment. I just stood there, holding my mug of coffee, very confused. Soon after, Mo came out of his room, and I stopped him dead in his tracks. “Izzy? You fucked Izzy? Even though you’re trying to make a go of it with Alexander?” Mo started to explain, but then Alexander came out of Mo’s bedroom wearing nothing but Izzy’s ribbed, cream-colored sweater—comically large on Alexander’s petite frame. Alexander threw his arm around Mo’s waist and said, “We shared him. It took the both of us to wear Cayden out.” Mirroring the gesture of affection, Mo threw his arm around Alexander’s shoulders. “We talked about it on Friday, and we decided that until we know exactly what this is, we’re open to other sexual partners.” “All together,” Alexander said. “Or solo, one on one,” Mo added. “And we both have veto power,” Alexander clarified. “As long as you’re both happy,” I said. “Oh, we are,” Alexander said. He stood on his tiptoes to kiss Mo on the cheek, then went into the bathroom. When we heard the shower start running, Mo and I knew we had fifteen or so minutes uninterrupted. “Did you get anything useful from Izzy?” Mo asked, pulling up a chair at the kitchen table. I joined him and gave a play by play of Izzy’s fantasy. At some points, it looked like Mo was going to interrupt, but he let me get all the way to the end before he said anything. “He didn’t bark with us,” Mo said. “If we’d known, we would’ve made him bark.” “That’s all you got from the story?” I was bewildered. “No. But if you don’t know what’s so important about the story you told, then neither does he,” Mo said cryptically. “And that’s good. Because things are finally starting to make sense to me.” After a second, he added, “But just starting. I still have a whole mountain of questions.” By then, Alexander had finished in the shower and come out to join us. “Did you tell him what we found on Izaiah’s phone?” “I was waiting for you.” Mo jumped up, excited, and ran into his bedroom. He came back with a legal pad filled with scrawled, handwritten notes. “All of this from his phone?” “We went through his entire call log,” Alexander said. “It was easy when he passed out around 2 AM.” “It goes back months. Most of the calls make sense. His mother, his sister, his ex-boyfriend, gym acquaintances, blah, blah, blah. What’s more interesting is what’s not there.” “So, what’s missing?” “We also checked to make sure he didn’t selectively delete calls. We can say with certainty he has had zero interaction with the HR department at C&G.” “You suspected the company didn’t hire them,” Alexander said. “This is definitive proof.” “The only unidentified number is this one,” Mo showed me a number he’d circled repeatedly onto the legal pad. “He exchanged half a dozen calls with this person in the week leading up to his start at C&G. The last time he called, he had a fifteen second conversation exactly five minutes after I invited him over to the party last night.” “Why is that significant?” I asked. “He was checking in with the person who hired him,” Alexander said. “He was letting them know, ‘Hey, I got an invite.’ Since then, radio silence.” “I assume you called the number.” “Yep. It didn’t ring, like the number was disconnected. No answer, no voicemail.” “Weird.” “Incredibly weird,” Mo agreed. “And Cayden tells me you’ve got another guest coming today. The delicious blond from the mailroom.” “Jayce,” I confirmed. “Same play as last night?” Alexander asked. “Yes,” Mo said. “But if the boy can follow directions, he should be here in the afternoon, not at night.” After a pause, he added, “Tomorrow is a work day, after all.” “Speaking of work,” Alexander said, “you got two work emails last night.” When I looked at him questioningly, he explained. “I needed your laptop to research the phone numbers. The emails were just sitting there. I didn’t read them, but I thought you might want to.” I grabbed my laptop and brought it back to the kitchen table. “One is from Vernon,” I said. “He is scheduling a routine follow-up on the paperwork he gave me on Wednesday. It’s a meeting we could literally have over the phone, but when has Vernon ever resisted the urge to make me meet him face to face?” “And the other?” Mo asked. “From Garrett, asking me—politely, almost obsequiously—to have the letter of recommendation on Mr. Carr’s desk no later than Friday morning.” “Please get him a promotion,” Alexander said. “I would kill for a new cubicle-mate.” I clicked over to my private email account, and there was a video message waiting from Oz. I didn’t care if Mo and Alexander were spying over my shoulder. I had to watch this right away. I clicked play, and the three of us circled around the laptop. “Hey, Ian,” Oz started. From the framing, he was clearly using his laptop to film the message. His hair had gotten greyer, but it was still more black than grey, and his beard was groomed with clockwork precision—I called it his business scruff. Normally, he let it grow a little wilder than that. His blue eyes sparkled warmly and invitingly, and he had a big dopey grin pasted across his face. God, I missed his face. “I know you are having a boys’ weekend, so I didn’t want to disturb you with a phone call or a text, but I had to show you this.” He held up his phone. The laptop camera auto-focused to clear up the image on the phone screen. It was confirmation for an airplane ticket for April 10th. He pulled the phone away from the laptop, and the camera re-focused on Oz’s face. “It’s official. The new branch will be up and running by the 9th, so I will be home with you on Friday evening. The flight should get in around 7 PM, Boston time. Vinnie’s picking me up from the airport, but don’t get jealous.” Mo paused the video. “Why would you get jealous?” he asked. “He and Vinnie had one night of passion. In the middle of a discotheque. In the late 1980s.” “It would have to been in the ‘80s if it was at a discotheque,” Mo joked. “Once in a while Oz teases me that Vinnie was his first. Frankly, I don’t care. It happened when I was in pre-school.” “Oz really is older than you,” Alexander said. “Yes,” I said, frustratedly. “That is how the linear progression of time works. Can I get back to my husband’s video?” Mo un-paused. Oz’s video continued. “We’re coming straight home. He’s using the ride to run down the plans for the birthday party with me. We’re not going out for dinner. Or even drinks. I promise not to even eat airplane peanuts, so we can have my birthday dinner together when I get home around 8.” An, “Aww!” escaped Alexander’s lips. I smiled fondly. I always made Oz’s birthday dinner. It was tradition. Oz blew a kiss at the laptop camera. “That was the good news. Here’s the bad news. Some last-minute construction problems came up. They wanted me to stay in Germany to fix them, but I found a way to plow ahead. Unfortunately, to get the job done on time, things are going to be extra crazy this week. I’m going to miss both our Tuesday and Friday call. I’ll be catch-as-catch-can all week, but feel free to send me a video.” He got close to the camera. “Nothing dirty, potty brain. That was a one-time thing.” He sat back in his chair. “And one more piece of good news before I end this video.” He looked at me sincerely, and I think I saw a hint of tears in his eyes. “I love you.” With that, he blew another kiss and ended the video. I was almost crying. “Oz is really growing on me,” Mo admitted. “I see why you married him,” Alexander chimed in. “What would you have said if he’d called instead of sending a video?” Mo asked. Things were getting too emotionally real for me, so I deflected with a joke. “That my brother, hip-deep in corporate espionage, invited a porn star over to my apartment to get me to pretend to seduce him. And if my brother plays his cards very carefully, he might just have his second threesome in two days.” 13 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted April 13, 2020 Author Share Posted April 13, 2020 Chapter 32 I didn’t even bother dressing for Jayce. He’d practically leapt on me in the elevator at work, and Mo had explicitly invited him over for sex. So, a few minutes before he was set to arrive, I retired to my bedroom and sat in my bed with the headboard as support. I was on my usual side, the one further from the door. Oz’s unoccupied side was a wide chasm between me and where Jayce would enter. I was still in boxer briefs and Oz’s robe, but my legs were spread wide, and the robe wasn’t even tied around my waist. My abs and chest were openly on display, and all lines seemed to point directly to my cock. I heard Alexander answer the intercom and let Jayce in. I heard the front door of the apartment open. Jayce said something I couldn’t quite hear, but I heard Mo’s answer loud and clear: “He’s waiting for you in the bedroom. Go get ‘im.” Without even knocking, Jayce came in. He was not dressed appropriately for early April in Boston. In fact, he looked like he came straight from the set of one of his films. Starting at his feet, he was wearing bright blue sneakers and white tube socks with yellow stripes around the top stretched all the way up to his knees. He was then wearing the skimpiest pair of short shorts I have ever seen. They were a darker blue than the shoes, but they had yellow piping on the sides that matched the stripes on his socks. They barely went down a third of his thighs, and his large cock and balls stretched the front of it out. On top, he was wearing a white tank top, one size too small to show off his compact muscles. “Why, Mr. Myers. You’re almost naked,” he said. I dropped the robe from my left shoulder, then brought my hand to my mouth as if to say “Whoops!” Then I winked and said, “Almost? That’ll never do.” Then, I made a big show of intentionally dropping the robe from my other shoulder. Jayce stepped towards the bed and hooked his thumbs into his shorts. “But you’re a married man. Won’t your husband be home soon?” The lines were forced and stilted. I’d expect nothing less from a Jayce Wilco porn. This was his attempt at acting innocent. “My husband?” I was doing my best Jayne Mansfield. “No, he’s away on business.” “I’ve heard that lie before,” Jayce said. He moved his hands up to his chest, crossing his arms in front of him and subtly flexing his chest. “He’s been gone, doing business, for so long.” I was practically whining. “I’ve been so lonely.” I rubbed the empty spot in the bed next to me invitingly. “Well, if all you want is some company.” Jayce walked over to the empty side of the bed, and hopped on. There were still a few inches of space between us, and because of the porn scenario he’d started, he wasn’t going to make the first move. I knew that I could shortcut this by just reaching out and touching him. However, if I touched him even vaguely sexually, if I made the first move, it would make it that much harder to resist after seeing his version of the future. I was going to have to talk him into touching me. “No shoes in the bed, young man,” I scolded. He took off his shoes and tossed them to the door. “No dirty socks either,” I said. Jayce ripped off the socks. It was then that I noticed that every last hair from below his eyebrows had been plucked, waxed, or shaved off. Even his feet and legs were hairless almost to the point of shining. “You’re right,” he said in that same affected, stilted tone. “That is much better.” “If you just came from the gym, you shouldn’t wear any dirty clothes in the bed either.” Jayce smiled and crossed his arms in front of him. Each hand held the lower corner on the opposite side of his tank top. With a knowing smile, he pulled his shirt off over his head in one fluid motion. He tossed it cavalierly to the floor. His pecs stood out just enough to make them definite pecs. His abs were youthful, that shape that only a man in his early 20s can achieve. Then, he said, “Do you really need me to take off my shorts? I’m not wearing anything underneath.” I had to stop myself from laughing. People don’t watch Jayce Wilco videos for their dialogue. They watch them for what happens when the hung blond stud did after he finally got past the dialogue. “Would it help if I took off mine too? So that you wouldn’t be the only one naked” I said. “I guess so,” he said, shrugging boyishly. I put my hands at the waist of my boxer briefs and held them there. “After you,” I said, egging him on. Jayce lifted his legs into the air and pulled his shorts off. He hadn’t been exaggerating in the elevator. He definitely had a large cock. It was one thing to see it on a computer screen—trick photography, lighting… it’s easy to dismiss as an illusion. But when all that warm, velvety flesh is on full display mere feet from your face, you can take in its true size viscerally. He’d left a little strip of blond pubic hair just above the base of his cock. His balls, the size of small eggs, sat in a hairless sack. As he sat there, now completely nude, his cock started to plump up. It bobbed and stretched; it thickened and expanded. It looked delicious. I could hear a loud voice in my head telling me to reach out and touch it. It was right there. I could touch it. Touching it wasn’t cheating on Oz. Touching it was what Mo had basically begged me to do. Without my say-so, my right hand began to reach out to touch it. But then I saw my ring again. For the second time this weekend, my ring stopped me from doing something I knew I would regret. “It’s okay,” Jayce said. “You can touch it if you want.” He took my hand and steered it to his cock. It was warm and weighty. Smooth and young. Jayce began running my hand up and down the length of his cock, urging it longer and harder. Soon, I had my hand wrapped around his flesh, stroking it to its fullness. As if in sympathetic unity, my own cock began hardening in its own confines. I could feel my breathing catch in my throat a little as my arousal overtook me. “I knew you wouldn’t last two weeks,” Jayce whispered, smiling coyly. In that same conspiratorial tone, so quietly I could hardly hear it, and barely moving his lips, he asked, “Where’s the camera?” I shook my head. “No cameras here.” I began stroking his cock harder. It reached its entirety of 9.5 inches and was starting to leak pre. “Just the two of us.” Jayce looked around the room, scanning every crevice and tchotchke. “Oh, I get it. I’m supposed to find it at the end.” With my left hand, I began stroking the hair on my chest and abs. “I keep telling you, there’s no camera here. Just me.” Jayce took my hand off his cock and switched from a whisper to a sotto voce. “Look, dude, I get it. Bored househusband gets caught on tape. I’ve filmed it a thousand times. But I’m a pro at this. Tell me where the camera is so I can make sure we get an epic money shot.” My face grew serious, and I leaned in to whisper to Jayce. “Who told you this was being filmed?” Jayce looked even more confused. “Isn’t that the whole point?” “I thought the point was the fucking.” I reached out to grab Jayce’s cock again. He moved my hand further away from his body. “Look, I promise you, I’ll make it convincing when I find it. Those half-assed line reads I give, people expect that. When I accidentally-on-purpose find the camera, I’ll be giving you Daniel Day-Lewis.” “You’re not that good of an actor,” I said. “Oh? You believed me on Friday when I let your brother swap out the flash drives.” I backed up—as much as I could while still being in the bed. “Oh yeah,” Jayce said, a menace and an intelligence behind his eyes. “I saw you hiding behind the potted plant. I knew your brother was there. I let him switch out the flash drives.” “But you seem like…” “An idiot? That’s the whole point. Cock-hungry dumb blond, too innocent to know he’s sinning. It’s the Jayce Wilco star text.” “Star text?” Jayce laughed derisively. “Oh, my god. You think I’m actually some high school dropout named Jayce Wilco? That’s a porn name if ever there was a porn name. It’s not hard to create a fake online persona. I’m Marcus Sullivan.” His tone picked up a giddy glee at talking to someone without having to put up the Jayce Wilco front. “I graduated the top of my class. When I saw the way the economy was headed, I knew I couldn’t afford film school even with all the money I’d saved, and I wasn’t lucky enough get a scholarship. But I’m tall, I have a huge cock, and I have beautiful, naturally blond hair. I’m also a decent actor when the need arises. So, I went into porn to learn the film industry and make a little cash at the same time.” “You got into porn to learn how to make films?” “Nothing better than a hands-on education. I shoot and edit most of my films these days.” “But there’s not much money in porn.” “Tell me about it. To start making the real money, I had to take the little savings I had for college and invest it in a gym membership and a personal trainer. Once I put on forty pounds of muscle, I started getting some high-quality, high-profile, high-paying parts.” “You put on forty pounds of muscle so you could study film.” He gestured to his body. “I want these gone. My metabolism was not made for a body like this. I have to work out six fucking days a week. The supplements alone cost a small fortune, perpetually eating into my savings. Thank God for private gigs and vanity films like this one. They’re where the real money is. I get to put away a tidy sum and still afford the huge upkeep of this body.” He got closer to me. “One muscle guy to another, you know my least favorite part of having a body like this? The food. I have to eat like a ravenous pig to keep this bulk. I had to create an interactive database to make sure I was eating enough. I haven’t been hungry in four years. I miss being rail thin me.” “Then why put yourself through all this?” “I want to make movies. Nothing more insidious than that. I know more about lighting, camera angles, storyboarding, editing, you name it, than I could’ve learned in ten years of film school. And without the tens of thousands of dollars of debt. Once I’ve made enough to finance my first two indie films, Jayce Wilco vanishes, I stop going to the gym, dye my hair, and Marcus Sullivan emerges in Hollywood as an up-and-coming writer/director/producer. And I’ll act if I have to.” “What if they ever connect the two of you together?” “It’s the internet age. They definitely will. But by then, I’ll have established myself, and it’ll be part of my story. Like Channing Tatum. Didn’t hurt his career.” Jayce… Marcus?... grew gravely seriously and looked me dead in the eyes. “Now, tell me where the camera is so we can make this fucking film, and I can get my fucking money.” I stood up and backed away. “There is no camera here. All the cameras are at the office.” “In that case,” Jayce said, scooting to the edge of the bed, “if you really want to do this, we’ll do it at the office.” “Why?” “I’m being paid for the footage.” He began looking for his clothes. “You’re hot, don’t get me wrong. Totally bangable. Hotter than I am, even. But I’m not getting paid to fuck a married man. I’m getting paid for the footage of fucking a married man.” As he was about to put on his shorts, something in me snapped. I’d seen that cock on film dozens of times, but seeing it in person, it was just a little more beautiful, a little more thrilling, and a little more perfect. Once he pulled up his shorts, I’d never get to see it in person ever again. I’d never forgive myself if that happened. “Wait!” I said. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and turned on the camera. “It’s filming.” He kicked off his shorts and walked over to me, his erect cock swaying slowly back and forth, heavy enough to create its own rhythm. “Show it to me,” he said. I showed him that I was actually filming, and he asked, “The battery life?” “It’s three quarters charged. The battery normally lasts a day or two with normal use.” “That should be enough time. Where are you going to put it?” “You’re the director. Where’s the best place to put it?” Jayce grabbed the phone and stopped the filming. He deleted the little bit I had recorded, and then looked at me. “When I find this, this is going to be a secret, hidden phone. Got it? The scene doesn’t work if you intentionally film yourself.” “Got it.” “You’re going to go into the bathroom. Count to 100. I’m going to set up the camera. You can’t know where it is, so I’m not going to tell you where it is. Don’t look for it. If you look for it, you ruin the shot, and I don’t get paid.” I went into the bathroom and began counting silently. When I reached 100, I came back out into the bedroom. Jayce was sitting in the middle of the bed, his erection pointing right up to the ceiling. His hands were behind his head, and his biceps were flexed. “What are you doing here?” I asked. I wasn’t the world’s best actor, but I was convincing enough. “I was hoping I’d do you,” Jayce said cheesily. “But I’m married,” I reminded him. “I don’t care if you don’t.” He smiled broadly. Before I could stop myself, I was on his dick licking it up and down. It was intoxicating, hot, firm, turgid, imposing. “Someone’s eager,” he said. With a wink, he asked, “Do I get a turn?” I couldn’t get my underwear off fast enough. Jayce Wilco already had enough footage to utterly blow up my marriage, and he still wanted to see my cock. When I kicked my boxer briefs to the side, Jayce saw my cock in all its magnificence. “Get up here,” he said, urging me to sit next to him near the headboard. Obediently, I scooted up next to him. “We gotta see who’s bigger.” Once I was sitting next to him, the disparity between us finally sank in. He was one of the tallest porn stars in the industry, and I was taller than him. Sitting there next to him, my head was higher than his. He’d fought for every last ounce of muscle, and I easily outweighed him by 50 pounds. My shoulders were broader, my chest stuck out further, my arms dwarfed his. He was known by his fans for his legendarily large cock. And mine was bigger. It was noticeably longer, noticeably thicker, and noticeably harder. Jayce reached over and grabbed a pec with one hand, and my cock with another. “Yeah. You’re too big of a man for one guy to satisfy.” He lowered himself to my cock, and before he put it in his mouth, he said, “This is gonna be sweet.” When his big, luscious lips surrounded my cock without any problem, I could see why he was a pro. I had to have the biggest cock he’d ever taken, and he wasn’t struggling even a little. But more than that, Jayce Wilco was sucking my cock. The Jayce Wilco was giving me head. I couldn’t even fathom it. I closed my eyes and leaned back. Jayce knew what he was doing. Between his lips, tongue, throat, teeth, and hands, I felt like I was receiving two blowjobs simultaneously. My face scrunched up—it was too much pleasure all at once. I was going to cum, and Jayce just increased the suction. Before I could let loose, something popped. I was still sitting in bed, painfully hard, but my underwear was back on. Everything came into focus. Jayce was slowly moving my hand to touch his cock. Right. He had touched me to guide me to his cock. If my hand actually touched his cock, I think the malediction would count that as cheating and punish me. I had to act fast. 21 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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