ibron888 Posted June 14, 2022 Share Posted June 14, 2022 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post bbmikenj Posted June 15, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted June 15, 2022 I came into the kitchen around 8AM. I had just finished my 2 mile swim, and my bike ride around town. I wore my 75lb weighted vest for both, so I was tight with swole. Also, I had taken to stopping at a scrapyard at the edge of town, where the owner let me lift old appliances and machines. I found that lifting things like refrigerators or riding lawnmowers worked my muscles differently than weights. Balance was much more of a challenge. And I discovered that refrigerators were crushable. Ripping a car door off its hinges wasn’t as hard as I’d expected, either, but folding the door in half and then into quarters was tough, although it really gave my fores a workout. It was a rush when the windows would suddenly shatter into hundreds of shards from the pressure build-up. There were plenty of lengths of iron and steel that I could work my grip strength on, too. Today, I took sheets of corrugated steel that I bent into angles and shapes with my hands. I liked the sound that the metal made as I twisted it. It was like making balloon animals, but with steel. By the time I was done, my forearms were engorged and burning with pump. They felt heavy, like clubs of granite. The owner said I could probably sell the pieces of mangled steel as abstract art. He had a point; they were very abstract looking. I told him the name of the museum where my wife worked, and if he wanted to check into it, he could keep anything they might offer for them. When I got home, I stripped off my vest, so when I walked into the kitchen I was shirtless and yoked. When Chef looked up at me, he said, “Whoa! I didn’t think you could get any bigger, Boss.” I was working Chef overtime lately, and had hired two assistants for him, to help with all the extra shopping and prepping, since I was eating six to eight meals a day now. Max was just sitting down to the breakfast Chef had made him. Even with morning bed head, the kid looked astonishing. When he looked up at me, he said, “Don’t you own a shirt?” Little smartass. “Max,” I said to him, “there’s a leaf in the pool. Go skim it out.” “I just sat down to eat,” he protested. I took a step towards him, and he jumped up and headed out to the pool. “…goddamit..” he muttered on his way out. “Check the chemicals while you’re out there. They were a little off yesterday.” As he went out, I picked up his plate and started eating his breakfast. “You want your usual breakfast, too?” asked Chef. “Yep,” I answered, my mouth full. My usual breakfast was now a twenty egg omelette with vegetables, and a pasta bowl full of oatmeal. When Max came back in from the pool, I was putting his empty plate down on the table. “Did you just eat my breakfast?” he asked. “It was getting cold,” I said. “Now put your plate in the dishwasher where it belongs. Chef’s not your slave.” When he looked like he was thinking about slugging me, I clenched my 8 pack roid gut, just as a warning. I rubbed my hand down the thick, protruding stomach muscles and stared at Max. He put the plate in the dishwasher. “Now I’m late for work. Goddamit.” he said, and left the kitchen to run up to his room to get ready. “You’re kinda hard on the kid, aren’t you, Boss?” said Chef. “I mean, not that it isn’t fun to watch, but…” “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Do me a favor and throw something together for him to eat at work.” Chef pulled some stuff out of the fridge, then got out a small Yeti cooler to put it in. When Max came downstairs, he went right out the kitchen door. I followed him to his car. “Hey, Max,” I said. “What now?” he grunted. “Here, take this with you.” He turned around, and I handed him the cooler. As he took it, suspiciously, I said, “Don’t worry, I didn’t spit in it, and it’s not poisoned.” “Thanks,” he said, still dubious. “And I wanted to let you know, you can use the gym here at the house anytime you want.” “Why are you being nice to me?” “When am I not nice to you?” I said. He laughed. And that smile, good lord, no wonder girls threw themselves at him. I felt an electric jolt run up my dick. We stared at each other for a second too long. His eyes were azure blue and hard to look away from. “I gotta go,” he said, flustered. He got into his car. As I watched him drive down the driveway, I felt a little guilty about what I’d done to him at work. I’d called the modeling agency and asked them to give him the worst assignment they could, and I made it worth their while. So for his first week, Max was going to be modeling for art classes at a juvenile detention center for teenage boys. I went back to the kitchen and had my breakfast. I added extra brown sugar to the oatmeal. I don’t know how anyone could choke it down without it. At least it sated my ravenous hunger for awhile. Then I went down to lift. I liked heavy training on a full stomach. It felt like it forced all the nutrients from the food flooding into my growing muscles. And the bloated pumps were insane. I weighed myself after. Came in at 329. My ego wanted more, so I guzzled down a gallon of water and weighed myself again. 337lbs. That was better. I’d sweat a lot of it away during my afternoon leg session, but I loved seeing the scale read that much. Plus, with all the creatine I was taking, my muscles could hold a lot of water weight, which I liked. Helped me lift heavier. Afterwards, I went up to my computer room. I still did some consulting work for the firm that bought me out. It brought in a decent amount of money, not that I needed it, but it also kept me in the loop. While I was up there, I checked the home security footage from last night. I saw that there had been motion detected in the gym at 2 in the morning. The cameras had captured Max, in his underwear, snooping around, just like I suspected he might. He looked thru some closets and shelves before making his way to a seven foot cabinet against the far wall. When he found that the cabinet was locked, he looked stumped. “Come on Maxie boy, you can figure this out,” I thought to myself, even as I admired his rounded jock ass. Suddenly, he reached up and ran his hand along the top of the cabinet. His hand stopped when his fingers touched something. The key. He picked it up. Even in the grainy footage, I could see his handsome, evil smile. He unlocked the cabinet and looked inside. Then he pulled out a white bottle of pills. I didn’t have to see it to know that the label said Dianabol. After all, I had put the bottle there, after I brought it home from Dr. Lazarus. I wanted to throw Max off the track of my own stash, which I kept in a hidden wall safe in my den. I had also had Dr. Lazarus replace the Dianabol pills with estrogen pills. Max did a fist bump in the air, and quietly hissed out a “yesss!” Then he opened the bottle, and took out some pills. He recapped the bottle and put it back. Then he locked the cabinet, and put the key back on top. He left the gym, all pleased with himself. How college boy didn’t think that a multimillion dollar house like this just might have motion- activated security cameras is beyond me, but I had to give it to him, he worked fast. And it did make me feel much less guilty about getting him a shitty first modeling gig. I didn’t say anything to Max about his thieving that night, or for many nights after. I kept an eye on the security footage, and about every other night, he went down and took some more pills. During that time, I had a good growth spurt, and was now 6’8” tall and 350lbs of shrink wrapped muscle. And stronger than ever. Max, on the other hand, was getting weaker and softer. One day, after I’d just finished a 2 hour leg workout, Max came down to the gym. These days, I was training in custom-made posers. Even they were hard to pack myself into, my junk was growing so fast. But I liked being able to see as much of my muscle as I could when I lifted. Max came to a dead stop when he saw me. My poser was soaked thru with sweat. It was as transparent as an overstretched condom. Max stared at it. “That can’t be real,” he stammered. “You wanna measure?” He nodded. I saw goosebumps form on his forearms. I went over to the locked cabinet, grabbed the key and unlocked it. I pulled out a cloth tape measure, and walked over to him. “Strip naked,” I told him. He looked a little nervous about the cabinet doors being open, but he quietly and quickly undressed. He was swelling up fast. “Now pull my poser off me, boy.” “Oh god,” he said. He got on his knees and grabbed the sides of my poser. He had to stretch them out to pull them over my massive glutes and down my tree trunk legs. My dick plopped out and hung down, turgid put not yet erect. “Measure my quads first,” I said, handing him the tape. He took the tape and wrapped it around my thigh, his hand brushing up against my big ball sac and trunk-like cock. “Fuck,” he stammered, “Thirty-seven inches.” He measured the other leg and got the same number. He rubbed his nose across my dick, and quivered. “You want it bad, don’t you, Bucko?” “It’s so thick and weighty,” he sighed. He was now rock hard. “Measure it.” He took the tape and measured the length of my shaft. “9.5 inches.” “Now suck on it and see how much bigger it gets,” I told him. He didn’t need to be told twice. He took me in his mouth. I let out a deep grunt of pleasure. His hot fucking college jock mouth worked me good. I swelled and kept swelling. Then I pulled his mouth off me. “Measure,” I commanded. He taped me out at 13 inches. A long rope of pre hung from the tip. He measured that too. “16 inches,” he said. “Eat it,” I said. He ate it from the bottom up. The he went to go down on me again, but I stopped him. I went back to the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of body oil. I walked back over to him as I poured the oil over my 74” chest, and let it run down. I rubbed the oil all over my torso, then my cock. Then I picked him up and threw him over my shoulder. I carried him outside, and laid him on the pool deck. I pinned his ankles up behind his ears. I poured oil all over his exposed ass. His balloon knot was twitching and he groaned in anticipation. “Comfy?” I asked him. He nodded yes. I got on top of him. Good thing he was flexible. His oiled up ass skin felt like buttery satin. I popped my dickhead into him and we both grunted. “You ready?” I said. “Hurt. Me,” he responded. I had to be careful not to do that too badly. His former pear-shaped stepdad was now a myostatin-free powerhouse. I plunged deeper into his college jock ass. I was going to breed him into next month, but I didn’t want to rip him apart with my rail-splitting 13 incher. I went slow and easy at first, and he was going wild. “Harder,” he begged. So I went harder. And deeper. I got into a thrusting rhythm, and we were both grunting in sync. I poured more oil on him, making him slicker. I dripped sweat all over him, marking him with my scent. “Careful what you wish for, punk,” and I rode him and started fucking him harder, bruising into his tight ass. For twenty minutes, I brutalized his jock pussy. Then I plunged into him, deep as I could, and pulled him into me. He arched his back, allowing me to go even deeper, and held my 13 incher inside him, bellowing like a Brahman bull. And fuck if we didn’t both cum at the same time. I stood up still impaled inside him, and walked us into the pool. I dunked us both for his second baptism since his arrival. He clung to me, his arms around my thick neck, and started softly weeping. “You okay?” I asked him. “Hell yeah. That was the best. I guess these are tears of joy, but I don’t get it. I don’t think I’d ever cried in my life until the last few days, and now all kinds of things choke me up.” I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that, but I wasn’t going to share that with him. Not yet. 47 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ro20316 Posted June 16, 2022 Share Posted June 16, 2022 Fuck. He is the MAN of the house now and who knew the stepson had a kink for muscles. Stepdad has transformes and will continue to do it. Amazing. He asked for a second set of the trial. Who will he give it to? 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ploder4 Posted June 16, 2022 Share Posted June 16, 2022 I expect the wife will come home and be terrified of her newly massive husband due to his new size and previous experience with the big boxer. She has to tell her husband the truth about their attraction. She felt he was safe and not abusive because he could be controlled if needed. She probably does love him, but wishes he had the muscle too. She gets her wish, she just has to learn that not all hulking muscle men are abusive. Then they both really get off on it. I could see her working out with him just to watch his muscles inflate bigger. Maybe she gets a little bigger herself. They go on vacation, she enjoys her husband going everywhere scantily clad and constantly showing off his muscle to her. Maybe they encounter the boxer. I wonder if she'll have a thing for her son getting smaller and weaker. There may be hidden disdain for him because he was the boxer's son and needs to be controlled. So many ways this can go! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tjdonger Posted June 17, 2022 Share Posted June 17, 2022 Truly love this story. Great writing. Great characters. I’m hopeful the stepdad grows his stepson and the other model to be his toys….and more. Can’t wait for more! Thank you. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kymuscleboy Posted June 19, 2022 Share Posted June 19, 2022 On 6/15/2022 at 10:12 PM, Ro20316 said: Fuck. He is the MAN of the house now and who knew the stepson had a kink for muscles. Stepdad has transformes and will continue to do it. Amazing. He asked for a second set of the trial. Who will he give it to? I think what he asked for was the estrogen disguised as Dianabol that he knows his stepson is stealing from him, not a second set of the drugs he is taking himself. That's why Max is getting softer, weaker and more emotional, despite taking what he thinks is steroids. That said, this chapter was off-the-charts hot! Charlie's ever increasing size and strength are such a turn on. I'm glad he is still getting taller in addition to more muscular and stronger. The fact that the "big, tough jock" Max fell for him like a little puppy just makes it all the better! 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post bbmikenj Posted June 20, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted June 20, 2022 The next day, I was out by the pool, working my arms and shoulders. I’d carried the pec deck and the bench press out from the gym, for an outdoor workout. I didn’t fit into the pec deck anymore, so I was using it for overhead presses, lifting the whole machine for sets of 40 reps. It gave my delt caps a nice pump, swelling them up to the size of distorted basketballs. I was wearing UA shorts and no shirt. I liked seeing my reflection in the glass of the gym windows. My big hulking frame. I’d flex and admire myself. Even my veins had veins. As I was loading up the bench press bar with three 100lbs plates on each side, Max came out. He was home early from work. He looked stressed out. “Rough day?” I asked him. “You could say that.” Then he said, “You really using 600lbs as your bench press warmup?” “645, actually, when you add in the bar. But I’m not benching it.” “Deadlifting?” “Nope.” I straddled the bench and walked up to the bar, grabbed it, then started doing curls. “Fuck,” said Max, as I repped out slow, controlled curls with 645lbs. Then, for good measure, I leaned over and did 20 reps of reverse bent over rows, before slamming the bar back on the rack. “Not bad for an old man, hey Maxie?” I said, as I turned and flexed my engorged arms and delts at him. “Holy shit,” he said, sitting himself down on a pool chair. He was already hard. I sat down on the bench. “Something happen at work today?” I asked him. “Yeh. It wasn’t good. You know, when I first started this gig, I figured the kids for a bunch of losers, but I got tot asking with some of them, and heard what kinda fucked up shit that happened to them, I could get why they were pissed at the world.” Hmm. Max, being empathetic, towards other people. That fucking estrogen. “But then today, one of them threw a candy bar at me, hit me right in the head. It didn’t even hurt that much, but I got choked up.” “Oh, no. Did you cry?” “Uh-huh.” “Right in front of them?” “Yeh. And they started laughing at me, calling me faggot, and throwing more stuff. The guards had to break it up. I can’t go back there…I can’t…” Tears were forming in his eyes. I was beginning to miss the old Max. “It’s okay, Bucko,” I said. I reached out to him and put my hand on the side of his face. Not long ago, he would have jerked his head away from my touch, but now, he leaned into my hand like a puppy. I realized that my hand had gotten so big that, if I wanted, I could palm his head and crack his skull with my grip. Instead, I caressed a tear away from the bottom of his eye with my meaty thumb. “I’ll make this better,” I said. “Go upstairs and take a shower. I’ll be up in a minute.” I think Max thought I was planning on coming up to fuck his brains out, and he did perk up, but I had other thoughts in mind, for the moment anyway. After he went inside, I got my phone and called the modeling agency, and politely requested that they find other work for Max. The woman on the phone was thrilled. “You know, we all felt that Max’s exceptional looks were being wasted there. We have so many better positions for him.” Yeah, I thought lustfully, so do I. As Max showered, I got a bag and went around the house, putting some things together. I went up to his room just as he was coming out of the shower. He was naked, toweling off his thick hair. The agency lady had been right about his exceptional looks. If anything, the estrogen had made him look even more radiant. I reached into my bag and pulled out a syringe. “I’ve got something that’s going to help,” I said. “Is it what you’re on?” he asked. “Yes.” I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t all I was on. The last thing I needed is for a genetically gifted athlete in his prime to get on the full stack I’d been using. It made me shiver at the thought of what he might become. Max turned around, grabbed the door jam, and bent over. His perfect ass made my dick jump. I walked over to him. “You ready?” I asked. “Pin me, Daddy,” he answered. I took the cap off the syringe and jabbed the needle into his flawless skin. I emptied the oil into him. I pulled out the needle, then grabbed a big handful of his wrestler’s butt cheek and massaged the test into it with my powerful fingers. When I stopped, I put away the syringe and pulled out a tube of K-Y. “You ready for another kind of injection?” I asked him. He turned around and dropped his towel. I took that as a yes. “Oh, and by the way, stop taking those pills you’re stealing from the cabinet downstairs.” “The what…?” He look stunned. “The pills. From the cabinet. They’re not what you think they are.” “They’re not?” He said, without even trying to deny that he was taking them. “No. They’re not Dianabol. It’s estrogen.” This took awhile to sink in. “The fuck…” he said. “How?” “I switched them out. Just in case you decided to steal from me. Which you did.” His face flushed red, either from anger or shame. Maybe both. He clenched his fists. “You psycho,” he said, and came at me. He pounded on my chest with his fists. He may as well have been pounding on a rhino hide. My 79” chest soaked in his blows easily. I heaved it out at him, which made him even madder. “That all you got, girlie boy?” “I hate you,” he said. “You stole from me,” I said, looking down at him over my big chest shelf. “You tricked me!” He pounded and pounded. “Little thief,” I said. I walked into him, moving him back. “I hate you,” he repeated, like pre-teen brat who’d just had his phone taken away. “I hate you more,” I said, mocking him. I grabbed him and lifted him, my hands on his upper torso. His feet dangled. “I should crush your thieving ribcage like an eggshell,” I said. “Do it, fuckface,” he dared me. I lifted him higher and squeezed, not hard enough to break him, but enough to hear the air whoosh out of his lungs. He kicked at my thickly muscled abs, but it was like kicking tractor tire treads. He was just hurting his feet. “Tiny little weakling,” I snarled, shaking him. “Juicehead freak,” he wheezed. I squeezed harder. His dick swelled. I lifted him higher and held him overhead like a ballerina. I tilted my head back on my thick neck and lowered his cock in my mouth. He let out a loud groan of pleasure. “Use me,” he gurgled. I squeezed him harder and felt his ribs compress. It was like I was squeezing a tube of toothpaste; his precum was already oozing out of him. I pumped him up and down with my big arms. This wasn’t going to take long. Who knew anger sex could be so stimulating. I was raging hard myself, and I was going to drain every drop of jock cum outta the little fucker. Despite the estrogen, he came long and hard. I finished him off, and tossed him onto his bed. His face was a little blue, so I let him catch his wind as I lubed myself up good. Then I mounted him, and for the next hour, I used his tight squeezebox as my own personal depository. Over and over, without pulling out, stretching his hole with my giant dick, making him beg for more. My very own size queen stepson, pleading for me to breed him. Sometimes, I imagined him being his dad. That’s when my eyes would glaze over in revenge rage. New daddy fucking old daddy. Oh, how I would fuck that guy up if I met him. That’s when I had to remember to hold back my thrusts, so as not to damage Max’s insides. Although he seemed to love it. He took every load. I wondered if all my gear-laced batter would effect his rebound from the estrogen. It couldn’t though, could it? Not too much anyway, I figured. 40 2 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OldFashioned Posted June 20, 2022 Share Posted June 20, 2022 Fuck yes! This just gets better and better 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spacevlad Posted June 20, 2022 Share Posted June 20, 2022 Mmm that last line! Very excited for Max to bounce back and grow some more too. What a hot story. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Broody Posted June 20, 2022 Share Posted June 20, 2022 quoting bbmikenj: The next day, I was out by the pool, working my arms and shoulders. I’d carried the pec deck and the bench press out from the gym, for an outdoor workout. I didn’t fit into the pec deck anymore, so I was using it for overhead presses, lifting the whole machine for sets of 40 reps. It gave my delt caps a nice pump, swelling them up to the size of distorted basketballs. I was wearing UA shorts and no shirt. I liked seeing my reflection in the glass of the gym windows. My big hulking frame. I’d flex and admire myself. Even my veins had veins. As I was loading up the bench press bar with three 100lbs plates on each side, Max came out. He was home early from work. He looked stressed out. “Rough day?” I asked him. “You could say that.” Then he said, “You really using 600lbs as your bench press warmup?” “645, actually, when you add in the bar. But I’m not benching it.” “Deadlifting?” “Nope.” I straddled the bench and walked up to the bar, grabbed it, then started doing curls. “Fuck,” said Max, as I repped out slow, controlled curls with 645lbs. Then, for good measure, I leaned over and did 20 reps of reverse bent over rows, before slamming the bar back on the rack. “Not bad for an old man, hey Maxie?” I said, as I turned and flexed my engorged arms and delts at him. “Holy shit,” he said, sitting himself down on a pool chair. He was already hard. I sat down on the bench. “Something happen at work today?” I asked him. “Yeh. It wasn’t good. You know, when I first started this gig, I figured the kids for a bunch of losers, but I got tot asking with some of them, and heard what kinda fucked up shit that happened to them, I could get why they were pissed at the world.” Hmm. Max, being empathetic, towards other people. That fucking estrogen. “But then today, one of them threw a candy bar at me, hit me right in the head. It didn’t even hurt that much, but I got choked up.” “Oh, no. Did you cry?” “Uh-huh.” “Right in front of them?” “Yeh. And they started laughing at me, calling me faggot, and throwing more stuff. The guards had to break it up. I can’t go back there…I can’t…” Tears were forming in his eyes. I was beginning to miss the old Max. “It’s okay, Bucko,” I said. I reached out to him and put my hand on the side of his face. Not long ago, he would have jerked his head away from my touch, but now, he leaned into my hand like a puppy. I realized that my hand had gotten so big that, if I wanted, I could palm his head and crack his skull with my grip. Instead, I caressed a tear away from the bottom of his eye with my meaty thumb. “I’ll make this better,” I said. “Go upstairs and take a shower. I’ll be up in a minute.” I think Max thought I was planning on coming up to fuck his brains out, and he did perk up, but I had other thoughts in mind, for the moment anyway. After he went inside, I got my phone and called the modeling agency, and politely requested that they find other work for Max. The woman on the phone was thrilled. “You know, we all felt that Max’s exceptional looks were being wasted there. We have so many better positions for him.” Yeah, I thought lustfully, so do I. As Max showered, I got a bag and went around the house, putting some things together. I went up to his room just as he was coming out of the shower. He was naked, toweling off his thick hair. The agency lady had been right about his exceptional looks. If anything, the estrogen had made him look even more radiant. I reached into my bag and pulled out a syringe. “I’ve got something that’s going to help,” I said. “Is it what you’re on?” he asked. “Yes.” I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t all I was on. The last thing I needed is for a genetically gifted athlete in his prime to get on the full stack I’d been using. It made me shiver at the thought of what he might become. Max turned around, grabbed the door jam, and bent over. His perfect ass made my dick jump. I walked over to him. “You ready?” I asked. “Pin me, Daddy,” he answered. I took the cap off the syringe and jabbed the needle into his flawless skin. I emptied the oil into him. I pulled out the needle, then grabbed a big handful of his wrestler’s butt cheek and massaged the test into it with my powerful fingers. When I stopped, I put away the syringe and pulled out a tube of K-Y. “You ready for another kind of injection?” I asked him. He turned around and dropped his towel. I took that as a yes. “Oh, and by the way, stop taking those pills you’re stealing from the cabinet downstairs.” “The what…?” He look stunned. “The pills. From the cabinet. They’re not what you think they are.” “They’re not?” He said, without even trying to deny that he was taking them. “No. They’re not Dianabol. It’s estrogen.” This took awhile to sink in. “The fuck…” he said. “How?” “I switched them out. Just in case you decided to steal from me. Which you did.” His face flushed red, either from anger or shame. Maybe both. He clenched his fists. “You psycho,” he said, and came at me. He pounded on my chest with his fists. He may as well have been pounding on a rhino hide. My 79” chest soaked in his blows easily. I heaved it out at him, which made him even madder. “That all you got, girlie boy?” “I hate you,” he said. “You stole from me,” I said, looking down at him over my big chest shelf. “You tricked me!” He pounded and pounded. “Little thief,” I said. I walked into him, moving him back. “I hate you,” he repeated, like pre-teen brat who’d just had his phone taken away. “I hate you more,” I said, mocking him. I grabbed him and lifted him, my hands on his upper torso. His feet dangled. “I should crush your thieving ribcage like an eggshell,” I said. “Do it, fuckface,” he dared me. I lifted him higher and squeezed, not hard enough to break him, but enough to hear the air whoosh out of his lungs. He kicked at my thickly muscled abs, but it was like kicking tractor tire treads. He was just hurting his feet. “Tiny little weakling,” I snarled, shaking him. “Juicehead freak,” he wheezed. I squeezed harder. His dick swelled. I lifted him higher and held him overhead like a ballerina. I tilted my head back on my thick neck and lowered his cock in my mouth. He let out a loud groan of pleasure. “Use me,” he gurgled. I squeezed him harder and felt his ribs compress. It was like I was squeezing a tube of toothpaste; his precum was already oozing out of him. I pumped him up and down with my big arms. This wasn’t going to take long. Who knew anger sex could be so stimulating. I was raging hard myself, and I was going to drain every drop of jock cum outta the little fucker. Despite the estrogen, he came long and hard. I finished him off, and tossed him onto his bed. His face was a little blue, so I let him catch his wind as I lubed myself up good. Then I mounted him, and for the next hour, I used his tight squeezebox as my own personal depository. Over and over, without pulling out, stretching his hole with my giant dick, making him beg for more. My very own size queen stepson, pleading for me to breed him. Sometimes, I imagined him being his dad. That’s when my eyes would glaze over in revenge rage. New daddy fucking old daddy. Oh, how I would fuck that guy up if I met him. That’s when I had to remember to hold back my thrusts, so as not to damage Max’s insides. Although he seemed to love it. He took every load. I wondered if all my gear-laced batter would effect his rebound from the estrogen. It couldn’t though, could it? Not too much anyway, I figured. /:::/ Amazing! I couldn’t read the black on black text so reposting this hot shit in plain text! 10 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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