m/m The Repository - (Complete Story, 10/15/21)

[TQuintA]

Part 5 – The Wedding and the Honeymoon

Chapter 10

            Jason had enough time to ask, “What kind of joke is that?” before the changes began.  I felt more flexible, more human, and less overblown with sheer bulk and power, deflating down to a much more manageable size.  I could move my legs with ease, I could bend my arms, I could look down freely.  I even felt the impossibly heavy tugging at my crotch recede a little bit.  I was still massive, but I was a much more reasonable massive.  In fact, when my muscles finished shrinking, I would only be 35 pounds more than my default minimum.  I looked down and surveyed what I had become. 

            I was used to living my life part-time at 330 pounds, so I was very familiar with what 330 pounds looked like.  This was bigger than 330.  My pecs protruded noticeably further, my arms bulged into my sides noticeably more, my legs pressed into each other noticeably more.  Everything was thicker: back, neck, shoulders, ass—everything.  Even my cock was more than I was used to, and I was used to 9 inches with some heavy low-hangers.  However, I also lived my life part-time at just shy of 400.  375 is not as big as 400.  So, I was bigger than I was used to, and, especially after a brief visit to 600 pounds, I was much smaller than I was used to.  I practically felt dainty.

            All of these thoughts I had almost instantaneously.  Because I then looked over at Jason as he began swelling.

            He was starting from 150 pounds, which was significantly lighter than I was used to him being.  That was just at first; then, his muscles were re-inflating into his normal TV-show size.  It was lovely to see my hot man back, but it was only a moment because his muscles kept expanding.  The next 65 pounds were no surprise either.  Whenever we were alone, he stayed at his superhero proportions, so as he swelled up to 250 pounds, he was just becoming my hunky heartthrob again.

            But then he kept swelling.

            I noticed it first in his abs.  His glorious abs, his most bankable body part.  His 8-pack etched in deeper, thicker, fuller, burgeoning with new strength, the separations between each individual muscle becoming thick and deep.  His Adonis belt, intercostals, and obliques became more developed and visible, enhancing his V taper and making his waist, which had thickened (just a little), look more cut and defined.

            His legs also blossomed into new muscle like I’d never seen on Jason before.  Soon, his quads were thicker than his waist was, each leg striated and cabled with power and brawn.  They pressed into each other as they bloomed even thicker; he had to widen his stance.  Those legs looked so inviting.  I longed to be crushed between his thighs.  Even his calves had developed into swollen balls of steel at the back of his legs, making his legs look like carved stone.

            He turned around to show me his ass as it rounded out fully.  It looked hard as granite and shredded with development, but it grew and developed into a beautiful mass—larger than any ass I’d seen.  My own ass had been bigger, and I’d seen videos and pictures, but it was different seeing it live and in the warm flesh, flexing and contracting with no screen mediating the experience.  Also, his ass was naturally rounder and shapelier than mine, so his ass looked hotter than mine when mine was that size.  The dimple in his right cheek was still there, but with all this mass, it looked more like a crater and accentuated just how full and powerful his ass was.  His ass was firm and ripe, and just ripening and firming further, so much so that I longed to take a bite.  But I didn’t dare for fear of cracking a tooth.  It was the most lick-able, caress-able, fuck-able ass I had ever seen.

            As he was flaunting his ass, I got a full look at his back as it thickened and widened.  The muscles bulged into relief, rolls of powerful flesh bursting from his back in an anatomy of strength and musculature.  Again, I’d seen pictures of my own back when it was this big, but to see the ripples and fluctuations as Jason breathed and stabilized himself, bringing the machinery to life in undulating fervor.  I could even see his lats widen, making his upper back insanely wide and his waist insanely small.  It took all my self-control not to just run my hands all over that steely brawn, but I resisted so I could continue feasting my eyes.

            Jason turned back around to show me that his lats, easily visible from the front, had pushed his arms to the sides.  His shoulders had rounded and hardened, each section of shoulder muscle defined and separate, the fibers finger-thick and visible through the skin.  His traps rose up; his neck thickened.  There were sunken valleys at the top of his chest as his muscles pulled from his body.

            And, oh, that chest.  His chest rounded out, and filled in deeper, and ballooned outwards, unfurling with meat and beef and brawn.  The sinews pressed their way through his skin, creating a striating effect along the surface of his muscles, and the volume of his pecs increased further and more, and more and further.  They rounded out so far that they forced his nipples to droop.  I wanted to bury my face between those pecs, if there was enough room for my face.  I would die in that cleft, and die happily.  My chest was impressive; his was a work of art.

            Jason twitched his arms, which drew my attention to them.  His arms had thickened beautifully, pushing into his lats and chest, making him even wider.  Each head of the bicep was clearly distinct, and there was a tantalizing vein running down the muscle.  His triceps swelled even further outwards in a parabolic sweep, adding even more to his thickness.  I could feel the saliva building in my mouth as I stared at those rock-hard arms bulging into full relief.

            He pulled one up into a flex, and my head nearly exploded.  His arm swelled even further up and even further down, the muscle tense and rigid with thick power.  At the same time, I could see into his armpit.  He, too, had developed that cavern of an armpit, a hollow place filled with hair and pheromones, a socket that jointed his overlarge arm to his overlarge chest with only narrowness between.

            As he flexed his arm, my eyes drifted downward.  His balls were rounding out and hanging more heavily in his sac; his cock had thickened and lengthened. He still wasn’t much of a show-er, but given that, he looked like he was definitely packing, which meant he was really packing.

            Even his face, that gorgeous face, that star-caliber face had thickened and developed.  His cheeks were more severe, his jaw thicker.  And all that jet black hair on his chin made him look like a wild, unruly, feral beast.  I could see the desire and pleasure light up his soulful brown eyes.  As he finished blooming, he smiled, and I nearly melted.  A smile that gorgeous on a body that phenomenal.  My head spun.

            And then, it was done.  He was fully engorged with borrowed muscle, larger than he’d ever had hoped to be, even with chemical assistance.  Breathing and heaving in all of his immensity within arms’ reach.

            “Thank you,” he said.  “This feels amazing.”

            “This looks amazing,” I said.

            “We’re each 375, right?  The same weight?”
            I nodded.  “Twice as big as you appear on TV.  Twice.”

            “Tired of being the big guy huh?”

            I smiled.  “Don’t forget, we each have a footlong cock, too.”

            “Who could forget that much meat?” he asked.

            “Not me,” I responded.

            “I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth,” Jason said, running his hands over his hairy pecs—his massive, hairy pecs.  “But how his this possible?  You said you couldn’t lend muscle.”

            “I can’t.  This is a one-time deal.”

            “Is it because it’s my birthday?  Because if this is a result of birthday magic, I might just like birthdays now.”

            “No.  It’s not because of birthday magic.  I take a large deposit from you regularly.  All-the-time regularly.  With the fundamental interconnectedness of all things, my body kind of thinks of those 65 pounds as being part of it, you know?  And there was just so much muscle in my body—more than there ever had been, more than I could handle, really—that my body wanted to put it somewhere.  And you were the only place I could put it because, again, my body kind of thinks of your body as an extension of itself.  But this is a one-shot deal.” I looked at the clock.  “A 24-hour deal at that.”

            “So, it is because of birthday magic,” Jason joked.

            “The 24-hour deadline is only tangentially related to your birthday.  The men I borrowed this extra mass from are expecting their muscles back at midnight tomorrow.  I borrowed all that mass for your birthday.  It’s coincidence.”

            “I thought we had the rest of the honeymoon,” Jason said, shifting the focus.

            “I led you on a little.  I thought we’d use the last two or three days of the vacation as a cool down period.  Maybe even a slow return to reality.  Take some pictures we can actually show our friends and family.”

            The truth of it dawned on Jason.  “You’re giving the genitals back tomorrow too.”

            I nodded.

            “You’re saying I better take full advantage of this, then.”

            “That is what I’m saying,” I confirmed.

            “So, we should stop talking and start enjoying.”  Jason flexed his pecs, and they bulged out hugely, and he vacuumed in his waist, and it shrank to a tiny fraction of what it was, practically defying the laws of physics.  “What do you think?”

            Marveling at his size, I had trouble forming words.  All I could manage was, “Fuck me!”

            “Can do,” Jason said.  And he pushed me powerfully, enough to knock me back onto the floor.  I wasn’t playing along.  He had caught me off-guard, sure, but the push was enough to knock me over.  I was 375 pounds of muscle, and he easily knocked me over.  Fuck. 

            He grabbed a bottle of lube and coated his dick as it lengthened and hardened into a beautiful 12 inches of engorged flesh.  It still looked like his cock, the same relative proportions it always had, the same basic shape, but blown up to amazing dimensions. 

            Once his cock was slick enough, he knelt down, picked up my legs (with no help from me) and put one foot on each shoulder.  Then, he was in me.  We knew from our sex toy play that I could just—just—take 12 inches inside me, but it was entirely different having that much human flesh up my ass.  It was warm and solid—rigid and firm—but it felt alive and vital, not like a silicone toy.  I could even feel his heartbeat as he pushed past my prostrate and stretched me wide open, more than he ever had before.

            “Oh my god, Miles,” he said through gritted teeth.  “You are impossibly tight.”

            “You are impossibly huge,” I corrected.

            He began panting and puffing.  “This feels so intense.”

            I squeezed his cock with my ass.  “Buckle up.  It only gets more intense from here.”

            He shrugged my feet onto the floor on either side of him, then he leaned over me and braced himself on the floor with his arms, his biceps flexing into wide relief.  His steely body pressed up against my steely body—his pecs into my pecs, his thighs against my thighs.  It was intense and even more sexual than his 12 inches of dick up my ass.

            When he thrust into me, I felt it.  I could feel all the strength and power behind his thrusts.  I had never been fucked this hard in my life, and I rode him like a bucking bronco as he fucked me like a jackhammer.

            Soon, we were both exploding all over each other in an orgasmic explosion of cum and muscle and cock.

            “Race you to the ocean,” he teased, not even giving us a chance to bask in the afterglow.  It was a beautiful starlit night, and as I chased him into the water, I saw the moonlight shine off his massive body, almost ghostly and inhuman in then night air.  He looked like a statue come to life.

            We splashed around in the ocean for a while, but I soon felt sleep’s tug at my eyes.

            “I need to sleep,” I said.  “I have had a big day.”  I paused, then repeated, “Big.”

            “Okay,” he said.  I thought he’d pout or protest, but he didn’t put up the slightest fight.  We curled up in bed, and for the first time since college, I got to be the little spoon.  Jason would spoon me, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just a different experience when the man who’s spooning you is definitively big.  I felt his pecs press into my back—they felt gigantic.  With his strong arms around me, I felt safe and protected.  If there’s a heaven, this is what it felt like, like being embraced by my giant muscle lover with my own giant muscles pressing back into him.

            I fell asleep all too soon.

[TQuintA]

Part 5 – The Wedding and the Honeymoon

Chapter 11

            I woke up to the sensation of an incredibly muscular hand around my cock.

            “Morning,” I muttered to Jason.  I reached over to feel his meaty pec but was greeted by his bicep flexing as he stroked me.

            “Thought you’d like this,” he said.  “It just looked so tempting.”  Jason’s own cock was also at full mast.

            I wiped some sleep from my eyes and look at Jason.  He looked a little bigger than he had before I went to bed, a little fuller.  Aroused by the whole scene, I grabbed his cock with my right hand and began stroking him as well.

            I matched his grip pressure for pressure.  The harder and faster he stroked, the harder and faster I stroked.  Soon enough, we were both erupting with cum.

            “That’s a way to wake up,” I said.

            We took a quick shower together.  It would have been even quicker, but we couldn’t stop kissing each other’s bodies or feeling each other’s muscles.  Jason’s felt warm, firm, and swollen, like after an intense workout.  We eventually got clean, but we barely had enough room to wash.

            When I got back into the bedroom, I saw some clothes strewn on the floor.

            “What’s this?” I asked.

            “I didn’t sleep,” Jason confessed.  “If I’ve only got 24 hours with these muscles, I want to enjoy them.  So, I curled up with you until you fell asleep, then I snuck off to the gym.  How did you fit through those doors at 500 pounds?  I had difficulty navigating at 375.  Then, I spent the next few hours just lifting.  I lifted weights twice as heavy as my maxes.  It was intoxicating.”

            “I thought you had a pump,” I said.

            “Still?”  He looked down, and his muscles did seem engorged. “I wanted to get a pump and take some photos.  I took a thousand photos, Miles.”

            “Neither a workout nor a photoshoot explains the clothes,” I said, pointing at the mess.

            “Well, I wanted to see if any of my clothes would fit me.”

            “Of course, they wouldn’t,” I said.  “You’re twice as big as TV Jason and half again as big as at-home Jason.”

            “Yeah, but it was fun struggling.”  He picked up a pair of briefs that were stretched almost beyond recognition.  “I did manage to get these on.  Well, until I got an erection and everything popped out.”  He turned the briefs around to show the garment’s torn waist.  “How can you function at this size?”  He grabbed his cock and balls, as much as would fit in his hands, but the sheer immensity of it overfilled his fist.  “I just constantly want to have sex.”

            “That’s the increased hormones from your enlarged balls.”

            “It’s relentless.”

            Laughing, I picked up a few pieces of clothes, and realized that some of them were mine.  I held up a shirt to show Jason.

            “Yeah.  When I didn’t fit into my clothes, I decided to try on some of yours.  You’re usually 330.  I figured they’d fit.”

            “You’re currently 375 pounds, and you’re taller than me,” I reminded him.

            “I realized those obvious facts when I had trouble getting them on.  You’re my giant, muscle monster of a boyfriend.  Your clothes always look so big to me, and I was too big for your clothes.”  He sounded almost giddy.

            “Show me,” I said, tossing him the shirt.  It was a dark green t-shirt I would sometimes wear when lounging around the house on a lazy Sunday.  He got it over his chest and shoulders, but it bunched up around his biceps, which pushed the sleeves up.  More deliciously, his chest stuck out so far that he stretched the collar, giving me a glimpse of chest hair, and his nipples were self-evident through the fabric of the shirt.  The overhang of pecs prevented the shirt from reaching all the way down to his waist, so his bottom two rows of abs was on full display, especially when he stretched up even slightly.

            “That’s a good look on you,” I said.

            “You like me in clothes that are too small?” he said, bouncing his pecs, stretching out my shirt even further.

            “I like you however I can get you.”

            Jason flexed his biceps for me, and teased, "You should see me in your pants.”

            I picked up a pair of jeans, and I saw a streak of dried cum in the crotch area.  “I can see they excited you,” I said, showing him the stain.

            “Yeah.  It was intense.”

            “How long was I asleep?” I asked.

            “Four hours,” Jason said, peeling off my shirt.  “When it hit 5 AM, I couldn’t hold off any longer and gave you that wake up call.”

            After breakfast, we went out to enjoy the morning at our new size.  I had so much fun rubbing the sun lotion into his giant, burly, huge body, especially that sinewy back with all its nooks and crannies.  I understood why Jason was being so sun-conscious this past week and a half: it was an excuse to feel me up.

            “I’m so glad we got more sunscreen,” I said, cupping a feel of his pecs.

            He cupped my pec in appreciation as well.  “Of course.”

            We roughhoused in the water for a few hours.  Jason got a major kick out of the fact that we were equally matched.  He was so used to being overpowered by me, that having a fighting chance made him fight that much harder, so he was winning more often than not.  He even lifted me clean out of the water a few times.  I hadn’t been lifted by another man since college, and never so impressively.

            His erection didn’t subside the entire time.

            After that delightful splash fest, I could see Jason was flagging, so we lay on the beach to do some reading, my head on his taut stomach.  But, Jason had trouble getting comfortable.  He couldn’t see his tablet over his pecs.

            “How do you do this?” he asked.  “I’m muscle-blind.”

            “Hold it on your pecs, not below them,” I said, demonstrating.

            “So that’s why you hold it like this,” he said, readjusting.  “I always thought it was a weird affectation.”

            I read for maybe three minutes before I turned to watch Jason’s beastly body, still lightly speckled with slowly evaporating water, heaving with every breath he took, bursting with might and muscle.  From my vantage point, his pecs looked even more colossal.

            While I watched him, his pad fell to the sand, and he dozed off.  I decided to let him sleep for an hour before waking him.  I know he wanted to experience every last second of these 24 hours, but he’d already been up for over a day.  If he got no sleep, he couldn’t enjoy the remaining time.  For sixty minutes, I watched him sleep.  

            Then, I decided to wake him with a blowjob. 

            I couldn’t fit his girthy cock in my mouth—that was his specialty—so I licked it up and down, rubbing his sensitive cock head on my lips and through my beard, kissing, licking, and caressing it, teasing it with my mouth.

            It stiffened and lengthened in my hand, and soon, it was a full 12 inches.  I increased my ministrations, and Jason said, “I’m awake,” suddenly.  After a few inarticulate growls, he added, “Oh, yes.  Keep going.”  Within minutes, I could tell he was about to cum, so I moved my face and pointed his cock down at the sand as he blasted voluminous volleys of jizz.

            As he basked in the post-orgasm bliss, he asked, “How long was I asleep?”

            “Just an hour,” I said.  “I want you to enjoy today, so I didn’t force you to stay awake, nor did I let you sleep too long.”

            “Thanks,” he said.  “For the nap.”  Bashfully, he added, “And for the blow job.  It was epic.”

            By then, it was time for lunch, so we went inside.  After we ate, I had an idea that Jason absolutely loved.

            “That horrible superhero sequel you were in is in the movie database.  I say we watch it, and we compare the Jason Prentiss onscreen with the mighty Jason Prentiss on honeymoon.”

            Every time his character was onscreen, especially if his character was shirtless, Jason would jump up from the couch and pose and preen next to his counterpart.  He made the man onscreen—a man who was a hefty, sizable 225 pounds—look like an anemic excuse for a weakling.

            When the movie ended, Jason arranged a suite of photos for us to take, this time together.  He wanted to commemorate the one day when he was as huge as his gigantic man.

            The photoshoot devolved into a fuck session, this time with me on top.  I was pressing him into the wall, and he was fighting back.  Our bodies were both so thick, and the grappling flexed our muscles into larger relief, that it felt like there was a third muscleman in our embrace.

            We dressed for dinner—mostly because I wanted to see Jason, hairy and muscular, bursting out of one of my blazers, unable to fit into one of my dress shirts, and overfilling my dress pants with both his ass and crotch.

            Dinner was sweet and intimate.  We spent most of it just gazing at each other lovingly in the candlelight, our knees pressed into each other.  He was so beautiful that he smoldered.

            After dinner, we decided to slow dance like we had in Vancouver, both of our obscene bulges and jutting chests pressing into each other, just dancing slowly, two mighty men in love. 

            When the last song ended, I kissed him slow and passionate, my hands running through his hair.  He practically melted into my arms.

            “Promise me you’ll never stop kissing me like that.”

            “I promise.”

            We were both dead tired after the past two days, so we went to bed at a reasonable time, Jason and I curled up in each other’s arms, face to face.

            When the clock told us it was 11:50, a worried, pained look darkened Jason’s brow.

            “What if I don’t give any of it back?” he asked.

            “Do you really want to live life at 375 pounds?  It’s hard enough at 330.  Trust me.”

            “I’d adjust.”

            “You’d have to give up your show.  Your career.  You’d have to go into hiding.”

            “Fair trade,” Jason said.

            I sighed and nuzzled into him tighter.  “They’re not your muscles.  You’re just borrowing them.”

            “But I look so damn hot,” he said, flexing his bicep, showing me that it was practically the size of my head.

            “You undeniably look hot with all this muscle.  But they’re not yours.  They’re not even mine.”

            “You can’t lend me muscles ever again.  I get it.  It was a one-time deal because of birthday magic…”

            I interrupted, “It was a consequence of how ridiculously huge I’d gotten, how often I borrow your muscles, and the fundamental interconnectedness of all things.”

            Jason nodded, “Like I said, birthday magic.  But if I don’t give them back at midnight, what’ll happen?”
            I consulted the rulebook in my head.  “Because I’m the one who borrowed them, I can give them back on your behalf.”

            “And if you don’t give them back?”  There was the faintest hint of a pleading in his voice.

            “I’d never do that.  These men didn’t give me their muscles; I’m borrowing them.  They’re just temporary deposits.”

            “That’s what I thought.”  He sighed, forlornly.  After a minute of silence, he announced, “I’m glad you’re the sort of man who’d give them back, even if I don’t want to.  It means you’re the sort of man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

            At midnight, I made the phone call, and we diminished back to our normal sizes.  I was 330; Jason was 250.

            “Goodbye, giant muscles,” he said as he deflated.  “Goodbye, giant penis.”

[TQuintA]

Part 5 – The Wedding and the Honeymoon

Chapter 12

            We slept in the next day and enjoyed the rest of our honeymoon at our normal, more reasonable sizes.  We took an endless amount of photos, hoping the sheer number we took would make it look like we’d taken a normal number of photos over two weeks.  It felt right and normal and light and airy.  The night before we were going to be returning to our normal lives, I woke up when I heard thumps and voices in the living room.

            I raced in, but all I found was Jason, furiously masturbating while looking at something on a tablet.

            “On our honeymoon no less!” I shouted, pretending to be upset.  “Let’s see what you’re whacking off to, mister.”  I grabbed the remote and pushed the capture button, and the TV screen lit up with what Jason was looking at.

            It was a picture of me at 600 pounds and him at 150.

            Jason covered his face, embarrassed.  “I’m sorry,” he said.

            “Sorry for what?  It’s not like you’re cheating on me or something.  For one, solo masturbation isn’t cheating.  For another, you were masturbating to a picture of me.  You weren’t even masturbating to porn.”

            “This is porn,” Jason corrected, still hiding in embarrassment.

            “I guess it is,” I conceded.

            “I just don’t want you thinking I want or need you to be at that size.  I love you at any and all sizes.  This is just…”

            I joined him on the couch and fished out my cock, which was readily thickening.  “This is just hot,” I said, completing his sentence.  I began stroking my cock to the bulging mass of muscle on the screen.  “It’s a fantasy,” I said.  “But a fantasy we actually got to live once.”

            The me on the screen was massive.  Jason looked like a normal man; a tad too skinny for his height, but normal.  I was an obscene pile of muscle.  My leg probably weighed as much as his whole body.  I was a blimp, overblown with enough meat for three bodybuilders.  And yet I was so hot.  My face was so severe and thick with muscle that I looked like a different person, or at least an obscene caricature of myself.  Obscene also described the 16 inches of cock jutting out from my crotch, standing proud above two giant testicles—even on that overblown body, the cock looked absurdly and erotically huge.  The pecs were furry and massive, planets of power above cobbled abs of intense strength to keep that upper half aloft.  My shoulders were so broad that I appeared to be as wide as I was tall.  My biceps were so round and thick and swollen—absurdly big for a human.  Somehow, it even looked like my arm was thicker than my waist.

            And I remembered how heavy it felt to be inside that body and how small Jason looked when I was.

            I came almost instantly.

            Jason had joined me, also masturbating to that picture of me.  After cumming, Jason promptly fell asleep.  I carried him to bed, made a quick phone call, and joined him.

            When I awoke the next morning, the morning we were destined to return to reality, Jason was looking at me.

            “You’re even beautiful when you sleep, Miles,” he said.

            “That can’t be all you were thinking,” I pointed out.

            “Well, no.  Not really.  I was thinking that it was a shame that we couldn’t buy any souvenirs from this place.”

            “We’ve got pictures,” I said.  “A whole spate of some amazing pictures.”

            “But we can only show the best ones to Jonah, Shafe, and Marietta.  I just wanted something tangible to mark this event.  And some gifts for the important people.  Especially H. K.”

            “Tell him we got married.”

            “But we didn’t.  We’re never.”

            “True.  But it will make his day to think we did.  A secret, private, tropical elopement?  He’s my editor.  He’ll ask me to turn it into a novel.”

            “It’s already fiction,” Jason pointed out.

            “Well, if you really want souvenirs, I do have one.  We can’t show this to H. K. either, but it’s definitely a tangible souvenir.”  I flipped over the blanket and showed him my cock.  “I called Alphonse last night after you passed out.  He let me keep some more of his cock.  Permanently.  As a honeymoon gift.  He almost sounded pleased to give it.”

            Jason looked at my cock’s increased size and girth, his hand tentatively reaching out, unsure if he should touch it.  “How big is it?”

            “You get to play with 10.5 inches of cock whenever you want.”

            “You’re cool with being so big?  You’re going to bulge in all your pants.”  His hand made contact with my enlarged, yet still soft, cock.

            “Yes I am.  But it will feel like a dirty little secret, not a giant obvious sign like it did at 12 inches.”

            He kissed me on the cheek.  “I love my souvenir.”

            A few hours later, we had packed our luggage and were waiting on the beach when the plane landed.  Tanner came running down the dock and waved to us.

            “I’m surprised to see the gentlemen clothed,” he joked.  “And it would have been my pleasure to get the gentlemen’s luggage.”

            “We know,” I said.  “This is part of the slow return to normal.”
            “In eight hours, we’ll be back in L.A.,” Jason echoed, almost in a sigh.

            We spent most of the flight home silently and happily in each other’s arms.

            When Tanner served dinner, he accidentally nudged the table, and Jason spilled his drink, the liquid all flowing in my direction.

            Picking up the glass as quickly as he could, Jason shouted, “Oh, Miles!  Did I spill on you?”

            “Miles?”  Tanner said.

            “Not a drop,” I said, answering Jason’s question.

            Tanner looked genuinely relieved.  “I thought you were Miles Uhler.  I mean, you look like the Miles Uhler I’ve seen online,” Tanner said.  “But there’s no Miles Uhler on the passenger manifest, and I know better than to ask questions.”

            “Do you need to check our IDs?” I asked.

            “We’re not that sort of airline, gentlemen,” Tanner said, retreating to his part of the plane.  As he pulled the curtain shut, he happily added, almost to himself, “Jason Prentiss isn’t cheating on his husband.”

            What did he say?

            I shot a confused look at Jason, and his eyes met mine, his face equally puzzled.

            “Tanner,” Jason said.  “Could you come back out here, please?”

            “Of course,” Tanner said, sliding back out into view.

            “Do you recognize me?  I mean, do you know who I am, not just recognize me from the last trip?”

            “Everyone in America knows who Jason Prentiss is.”

            “Did you hear the rumor that I was getting married?”

            “Yes, but that wasn’t how I heard it.”

            “What did you hear?” I asked.

            “The way I heard it, you got married.  To Miles Uhler,” he pointed at me, “who I only vaguely recognized.  When the name on the manifest was different, I assumed the you were having an affair, and you just had very specific taste in men.  It made me a little sad, but I wouldn’t pass judgment.”

            “Could you repeat that?” Jason asked.

            “Repeat what?” Tanner responded.

            “The story, as you heard it.”

            “You married Miles Uhler at a secret tropical resort.”

            “People are saying that we’re married?” Jason seemed incredulous.

            “According to the talk shows, you pulled off the wedding in secret.  The story broke a while ago.  Weeks?  Something like that.  Apparently, you’d bought the rings years ago, but wanted to avoid a public fuss over the wedding.”

            “Margaret,” Jason said, turning around to me.  “She put this out there while we were on vacation.”  He turned back to Tanner.  “Is it still getting a lot of tabloid attention—my wedding?”

            “Haven’t heard a thing in…about two weeks,” Tanner said.  “Will that be all, gentlemen?”

            “Yes, thank you.”

            Jason came over and hugged me.  “Everyone thinks we’re already married, and we didn’t have to have the wedding.  The story’s already dead, and we didn’t have to endure the news cycle.  Considering how obviously they failed to get the scoop on the wedding, and how much pressure Margaret will put on them, I think it goes back to the old system.  Where my personal life is off the table.  We can just go back to our normal lives.”

            “You don’t pay Margaret enough.”

            “I really don’t.”  After a pause, I turned Jason’s head so he was looking at me.

            “We’re going to have to explain to our friends and family why they weren’t invited to the wedding.  And they’ll want us to throw a reception.  This may have just kicked the can down the road.”

            “Ah,” Jason said, “we can say that Shafe and Marietta inspired us to make the wedding itself super-tiny.  And now that the media thinks we’re married, we can throw a small, low-key, small, no frills, small, intimate, small get-together for the people we care about without all the nonsense or rituals or performance of a wedding, or a million tabloids weighing in, or my agent trying to leverage it into a reality show.  We won’t even tell our guests why we’re throwing a soiree, and they’ll just assume it’s the wedding reception.”

            “If you’re down for that, so am I.”

            “Excellent,” Jason said. 

            After a few minutes of silence, Jason spoke, in practically a whisper, “Can I confess one of the stupid reasons I didn’t want to have a wedding?”

            “Sure.”

            “It’s not the main reason, but it was a surprisingly big one.”  He breathed heavily.  “I didn’t want to call you Gerald in front of people.  It would feel like lying.  Does it bother you that I call you Miles and not Gerald?”

            “Not even a little,” I said.  “I’ve been Gerry, G. P., Vaughn, Muscles, Shakespeare, Gloria Bowman, Miles Uhler, and The Repository.  As long as you love me and stay right here next to me, I don’t care what you call me.”

            “Good,” Jason said.  “Because I think of you as Miles.”  He sighed contentedly and added, “I’m actually looking forward to our life going back to normal.”

            “Normal sounds nice,” I assented.  And it did.  With all the media attention on my not-marriage, the spotlight had gotten too bright on me.  But now, now my secret was safe, my man was staying with me, and while my life could never be normal, we could go back to our normal.

            We settled back into a pleasant silence, and I began thinking and planning, tending the seed of an idea that had been planted when Jason had swollen up to 375 pounds. 

            As long as his show was on the air, Jason had three months off every summer. 

            He can put on just north of 30 pounds in three months if he devotes himself to it and has a trainer like Curtis. 

            He puts on the 30+ pounds, then adds it to his normal deposit in time to start shooting his TV show.

            In three years, if we play our cards right, and everything goes according to plan, Jason will have accumulated 100 additional pounds for his deposit. 

            I can function, albeit slowly, at 500 pounds.

            In three years, then, when Jason comes home to me, I can give him back his standard deposit, and he’ll be 350 pounds.

            Bigger than me. 

            These thoughts were rousing my 10.5-inch cock, but I would keep them to myself until I was sure he’d be up for my plan.  Jason’s not keen on surprises, and this honeymoon had been full of them.

            “What are you thinking about?” he asked, stroking the length of my cock through my pants.

            “Oh, nothing,” I responded.

            Maybe life wouldn’t go entirely back to normal.

 

END OF PART 5

END OF THE REPOSITORY

[actorsarecool]

TQuinta, thank you so much for this wonderful story.  You never cease to amaze me in how beautiful your writing can be.  Looking forward to your next story - whatever it may be. 

[arpeejay]

So much muscle! So much fur! So much weenie! So much yummy! Thanks!

[ploder4]

We need an epilogue of 350 lb Jason.  We also need to know if he ends up going public being bigger and bigger.  Maybe taking on the big guy superhero roles?

[Wrestlejock646]

The Repository was PERFECT! I'm a bit sad it's over. To paraphrase William Shatner after he came back to earth, I hope I don't get over this either. TQuinta, a heartfelt thanks for your work!  Really, really fun and so well-done!

[OldFashioned]

Damn… I’m gonna miss my Tuesday and Friday updates

[Mdlftr]

Wow!  The muscle growth and the descriptions just blew me away -  but it was the humor and the clear eyed, matter-of-fact tone that kept me coming back!

 

Mile Uhler/Gerry Vaugh/Muscles/The Repository and Jason Prentiss really worked well together!

And let me not forget - thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing back the college sleazeball multimillionaire boyfriend!  [aka Flynn] LOVED IT!!!!! 

P.S.  I want to hear what HE was up to!

 

[Wrestlejock646]

Agreed

1 hour ago, Mdlftr said:

Wow!  The muscle growth and the descriptions just blew me away -  but it was the humor and the clear eyed, matter-of-fact tone that kept me coming back!

 

Mile Uhler/Gerry Vaugh/Muscles/The Repository and Jason Prentiss really worked well together!

And let me not forget - thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing back the college sleazeball multimillionaire boyfriend!  [aka Flynn] LOVED IT!!!!! 

P.S.  I want to hear what HE was up to!

 

Agreed--Flynn was my favorite! That would be awesome!