Hanazin Warrior Academy (Continuation From Archived Stories)

[oliver904]

 

EDIT: I forgot to post the link to the Archived stories. It's not completely complete, but a good start that may give me time to catch up and rewrite everything for one continuous post. Much thanks to ZFerrari for salvaging my old work.

So I can't say this was worth the wait or anything, as it's been like, what 20 years lol But I'm wanting to rewrite the entire series and repost it here, as a lot of it got all messed up in the HTML or something and all the "quotations" are now ?quotations? lol But I dunno. If there's still a lot of interest and this sparks some fervor or whatever, it may inspire me to write a lot more. I have a lot of ideas, but don't know how much time in my life I have free to write as much as I'd like to. Anyways, I reworked some behind the scenes stuff lol like "recasted" a few of the characters, and even traded Dirk's for Max and casted a new Dirk--I know, I know! But I didn't realize that I had casted Dirk as a Brown haired guy and was writing he had blond hair the entire time, etc... Sloppy sloppy me lol Anyways, not really something to worry about right now anyways, if at all. But hope it still has continuity and all. I've been away from it for so long, and have just been trying to catch back up with my own creations. Like I said, I hope to do a sorta rewrite and edit later anyways, if I ever have the opportunity.

And I don't remember where I left off in terms of parts.... so think of this as a sort of rough draft to a potentially better one...I hope 

I've included some ENER stats (not the graph--you'll get it as you read below), and they're more just something I like to do for myself, so they might change. But you can see the recast and shuffle. But a bit of a "data book" thing, if you will. I dunno. It's just something I like doing.

 

Anyways, here goes nothin'

 

 

SEAN

What Luther said was the truth. The key wasn’t a physical key to unlock anything physical, but was still a key to unlock something hidden away. Because Hanazins had the ability to manipulate matter, and manipulate thoughts, they could transform and combine the two to form something separate, like the key Sean had retrieved for Dirk.

His father had instructed him to revert the key back to its raw matter and raw knowledge. For the first time in a while, Sean was having a lot of trouble. Pulsing veins crossed his forehead, his psychic energy pulling each bit of knowledge encoded in the key. And each time he would succeed, a portion of the key would turn to dust.

Sean remembered when he was able to store the entirety of the key within his natural energy, and later reconstruct it perfectly. But taking it apart with a much more meticulous hand took a lot more skill and power than Sean had expected. He had to visualize it all like a house with a bunch of rooms full of things he’d never seen, as it was like removing furniture you never owned from a room you’ve never seen, and passing through doors you didn’t know existed, in a home you’ve never lived. And you’d better time your exit from the front door just right to meet the movers with their tiny truck, or be forced to hold the weight of all the furniture until they arrive.

Or drop it all, Sean thought, releasing his hold on the bit of the key he was deconstructing. He’d have to start all over with that segment and have to find the room again among the thousand he had identified, and hope it was in the same location. They tended to move around the house without any regular intervals of time.

Sean groaned, slamming a veiny fist into the solid earth beneath him and sending a blast of fragmented rocks a hundred feet into the air. Before, when he had deconstructed the entire key to store within himself, it was much easier. About 100,000 times easier! It was like moving the entire house into a new lot or something. Everything in the house moved with it, as long as it stayed locked. And the house and room analogy helped Sean visualize the goal he needed to achieve. The physical key was designed to unlock the door to the house where each constantly changing location of every room held knowledge that together would be the figurative key to accomplishing whatever it was his father, Dirk, had wanted to accomplish. Or it was the key to the destruction the Hanazin world was so dedicated in trying to prevent. But it’s what his father had meant when he had said he was afraid Sean might miss something. It would have been next to impossible to piece the key back together had Sean prematurely unlocked the door, even with his enhanced Hanazin brain.

Now Sean wasn’t feeling all too cocky.

Sean’s body responded to the influx of energy he had to pull in to effectively expel the mass of psychic energy he was utilizing in order to pull the knowledge off the key. Thick veins pulsed as if they were arteries, appearing then disappearing underneath his skin, before appearing again to feed his engorging muscles, climbing upward or running downward in networks like tree branches or roots growing on an accelerated time skip. His abs shuddered before collapsing towards his spine, the fat underneath his skin almost nonexistent. Sean’s body was so incredibly lean that every fiber of every muscle, and every striation that built each part of the muscle could be seen moving and building itself bit by bit. Sean was a masterpiece of a man, with no exception given to his fat, dripping cock that bobbed with each steady beat of his heart. His sack heaved underneath his slick pole, always as if breathing, but instead filling his 15-inch shaft with his warm fluid. A network of veins climbed up his shaft, and Sean knew he was ready to blow. The earth rattled around him, and Sean couldn’t hold it in anymore. His massive tool erupted out before him, spraying over the cliff face and raining down into the valley. The key jangled to the ground as, Sean let it go and grabbed his exploding man meat, his hand moving across his slimy shaft at the speed of a jackhammer. All around him the earth violently shook, the birds fleeing from the surrounding trees. But they were too slow to escape Sean’s blast of energy that moved out from his body like a tidal wave, yellow and tinged with red, joy and ecstasy colored with anger. The muscles of his body convulsed as they adjusted to the rapid influx of power, and Sean bellowed deep, veins rapidly birthing and climbing and running over every part of him. His height grew to nine feet, his lats spreading out to an enormous five, his traps climbed his now thickening neck just as its vascular network pulsed and reached out to join the thick vascular cords of his shoulders and chest. His pecs danced in unison as lean fiber upon lean, ripped fiber built upon the last.

Sean cock was sputtering and spitting short bursts of cum—like it would back when he was human. Each spurt of his hot fluid felt like an electrical current of his best orgasm, sending tingles of absolute ecstasy from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, where it felt as if it were water flooding over his brain and pouring down through the rest of his now massive body. Sean pulled his entire cock downward by its fat tip, and it sprang back to hit his abs and pecs with a loud thwack!

“FUUUUUUUCK!” Sean screamed, and he blasted over the valley once more, the earth shaking so violently, that rubble started falling from the cliff face, before it too cracked under the stress of Sean’s power.

Sean threw his arms out to his side and he felt himself levitating upward by the force of his own expelling power. His voice dropped down low as he bellowed. The ecstasy he was feeling was like no other he had felt before. At that moment, he strangely recalled how he and Jason would sit in their dorm room and try their best to come up with a good analogy that would’ve helped their pre-Hanazin, human selves imagine how good a Hanazin climax could be. He remembered Jason had jokingly, but accurately, compared it to when human you really REALLY had to pee, but you held it and held it and held it until you finally found a toilet and let it out. That feeling of relief. That feeling of cool and calm release. It was like that, but 1,000 times better.

But what Sean was experiencing at that very moment was 1,000,000 times better than his best Hanazin climax to date. The ecstasy pulsed through him over and over, and starting over and starting over, endlessly looping with no lull in the intensity.

“The power,” he said. “The fucking POWER!” He roared once again, leaning back, his face towards the sky, eyes closed, laughing maniacally, before letting his immense power flow out of him and across the canyon around him. Again, Sean’s muscles seemed to be violently convulsing, though it caused him no pain, only pleasure. He wondered if it’d be better to move into his Intermediate power level, if the pleasure of power would increase. And what if he just jumped right into Hyper power level?

 

***

 

DIRK

Dirk grinned happily as he stared over at his son. He was a whole 50 miles away, but Dirk could see Sean with the clarity as if Sean were right there next to him. Sean was forcing himself to remain in Rookie power level, something Dirk himself enjoyed. In that state, you could feel the power, truly feel it move through every pulsing vessel of your body, feeding the engorging tissue, building new massive muscle, fiber by fucking fiber. Dirk was impressed at how lean his boy had managed to become, and even at the far distance, Dirk could see the striated fibers of Sean’s muscles moving about underneath his skin, now covered in the innumerable perusing branches of his vascularity. Veins crawled over even Sean’s forehead and down by one of his ears, and on the other side crawled down his cheek and throat to join with the third cords of his widening neck.

Dirk felt his son’s power moving into him, the power link the Stervis bloodline had passed onto he and his son effectively operating to bond their collective powers as one. And because of his gift from his Archer bloodline, Dirk knew his son had the potential to bring them both unfathomable power.

The thought made him hard, and Dirk’s slick fuck pole went full mast, trembling with his heartbeat, its tip sputtering pre-cum in short spurts that filled Dirk with incredible pleasure. Pulsating veins flooded over every one of Dirk’s now shuddering and expanding muscles. Just as his quads reshaped into perfect symmetry, another vascular network birthed upward towards his crotch, climbing in a second’s time up through his inner thigh to join the network feeding his heaving sack. And just as the connection was made, Dirk felt himself washed over by the ecstasy of his power.

“Fuck YEEEEEEEAAAAAAH!” He roared, his ripped pecs broadening with his shoulders, his 25 inch guns instantly expanding to 30 inches, more and more veins pumping and pulsating and feeding his growing muscles. The earth itself seemed to shift, and the sky turned dark, as the tip of Dirk’s cock exploded with a torrent of his hot man juice. “FUUUUUUUUCK!” He screamed.

Lightning flashed over him as he allowed his power to lift him into the sky, and he continued to blast his pearl-white cum over what was left of the surrounding area, creating a thunderstorm of slick, viscous rain. His power had already destroyed much of the mountain plateau, the land and the cliff faces, trees and rivers—all of it just gone, leaving only barren earth.

He spotted the key that Sean had dropped, and in a millisecond’s time he had retrieved it and stood underneath his still floating and blasting son. Dirk grinned once more, the edges of his lips slowly creeping more and more upward, until he too was joining in on his son’s maniacal laughing.

In the later years of the Academy, students are taught how to measure in numbers the power ratings of their opponents, and because Hanazins had such keen sensory abilities, they could measure the power levels within themselves, and within other Hanazins to an exact numerical point of measure. Records were kept on every student at the Academy, and further through the rest of their lives, updated by passing Constables, Scouts, and Surveyors. Hanazin energy was measured in ENER, or emitting native energy radius, and displayed on an ENER-Graph. And the power flooding over him from Sean’s energy was more than he could’ve expected, approaching a 90,000 ENER reading in each of his 9 measured attributes. 90,000 ENER in just his Rookie power level. He knew his son would soon surpass even him, once gaining the knowledge of the key—a key only one of Archer blood could…well, unlock.

Dirk chuckled a little, tossing the key upward and then catching it again. He stared down at its silver exterior, noticing only a fraction of the physical surface gone from Sean’s work. “Still so much to go”, Dirk thought. “So much to go, but so much power already gained.” Dirk could feel it pouring into him through their connection, and watched the thick cords of his forearms pulse and climb over the expanding muscle. Through the Archer power, Dirk knew he would be strong enough to free his son Rex. And after, their cumulative power would be invincible.

Edited June 30, 2023 by oliver904

[dickasauras]

Glad to see this story continued.

[ZFerrari]

Aye, I see this making a comeback

[portamivia]

Love to see a continuation of this classic…

[oliver904]

Just wanted to note that any of the pics with the numbers might change, as the storyline sorta covers. The ENER stats (or ENER-Graphs -- you get it? I know, I know) are measured by scouts and such when in range to measure, etc... Just my "get out of writer's jail free card" for the edits that may need to happen later on, as I find myself changing stats to make sense in the storyline, or whatever. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy. 

 

PARKER

It hadn’t taken long for Parker to settle into his new school. After only his first week, he was receiving top marks from all his professors, and his fellow Eumorahs had welcomed him to their house as if he were a brother…well, step-brother is probably the more appropriate term in this context. Parker didn’t realize how attractive he must’ve been his entire life. He thought that maybe he always had the right face, and the very wrong body. But Sean Archer, the guy that came into Parker’s workplace, the same Parker had shown the special dressing room, had given Parker an extraordinary gift. Parker had almost called in sick that day of work. What if he had missed that opportunity? A once in a lifetime opportunity, he’d bet.

Parker, along with the rest of the first year Eumorahs and Tyserrens, were waiting for the start of their Strength and Muscle Growth class with Professor Benson. Parker couldn’t wait to see the hairy muscle god that Professor Benson was. Just the sight of that man’s massive, vascular and furry chest made Parker instantly hard as FUCK! Most especially when the professor’s pecs would randomly bounce when he moved his ripped, corded arms a certain way.

Parker moaned, in both ecstasy for the thought of Professor Benson’s body slick with his own hot fluids, and for the pleasure his two jacked classmates were giving him, their hands gripping, rubbing, or squeezing every part of Parker’s body.

“Fuck, dude!” It was his fellow Eumorah, Ken Parsons. “I fucking love your body, Jameson! Sexy AF!”

AF. Parker was about to tell Ken never to use that acronym again, but Ken was breathing in Parker’s ear now, the boy’s lips at his neck a second later, his nose brushing Parker’s skin, and taking in the scent of his classmate’s musky cocktail.

Before Parker even knew what was going on, Ken had thrown a pumped muscular arm around Parker’s throat, pincering his airway with a hard, 17-inch bicep and his lean, corded forearm.

Without hesitation, Ken yanked Parker backwards so their still transforming, pulsating torsos were touching as close as possible.

Again Ken’s lips were at Parker’s ear. “Your smell is the most addictive and rarest around,” the boy muttered, playfully through gritted teeth. “And it drives me crazy when I go without.”

“I dow, righf?” the other Eumorah boy said, his voice muffled. His name was Andrew Hall, or Andy, but never Drew, apparently. Parker once witnessed him picking up one of their Tyserren classmates and body slamming the boy through two marble floors, simply for making the mistake of calling him Drew. But Andy was currently busy stuffing his entire face in Parker’s superhuman pheromone-laced crotch, having pulled Parker’s pants down to sit just above his knees. Andy seemed to be striving to get a good taste of everything Parker’s heaving sack had been hiding away under his tuft of dark pubes.

A swift, yet soothing electrical current would rush through Parker’s entire now six foot frame with each flick of Andy’s masterful tongue.

Andy pulled away, and in an instant was face to face with Parker. “And God DAMN, you’re fucking cute!” he said, gripping the lapel of Parker’s karate gi and heaving Parker out of Ken’s grip. 

Parker thought to offer a quick thank you for the compliment, but Andy had already slipped his tongue into Parker’s mouth. The two of them began levitating, circling each other, ravenously moving their lips over the other’s.

Ken flew up into the air to meet them and worked his way into the mix. His lats were fighting the seams of his uniform, so he threw off his top in one swift motion and let it fall to the classroom floor, sending the bottom half floating downward to follow only a second later. “You gotta be the hottest fucker at this Academy,” Ken said. He tore the rest of Parker’s pants right off the boy’s expanding legs without any of the meticulous care he seemed to give his own uniform. Asshole.

But Parker’s enormous cock flung outward before him, flicking a small torrent of his pre-cum onto Ken’s now naked, amazingly ripped body. “Not so bad yourself,” he managed. “And you, too, Andy.” Parker mentally smacked himself in the forehead. Why did he say that?

Andy chuckled with a dimpled smile, touching a finger to his temple.

Parker groaned. Telepathy. So fucking annoying sometimes. But he wasn’t just saying that to be polite. Currently, Parker’s mouth was having trouble forming words that would best express how amazingly sexy he thought the two of his classmates were every time he’d be given the pleasure of looking at them.

Kenneth Parsons. The golden boy of the first year Eumorahs. Parker had gathered as much within their first day, when he saw the adoration the boy gained simply by walking in the room. Ken had that unbelievably beautiful hair color that was somewhere between blond and brown, but not quite dirty blond. Quite the contrary, Parker always thought. The fuzz that covered his always tanned skin glowed translucent in the sun, which made the intimate views Parker always had of his classmate that much more appealing. Golden boy, indeed.

As for Andy, he was more the rough and tumble bad boy, which made the perfectly symmetrical, masculine angles of his face that much sexier. His hair was a bit lighter than Ken’s, but had the same effect on Parker’s libido when touched by the morning rays of the sun. He didn’t have the same dark tan as Ken, but he was a bit taller, and slender and ripped in all the right places, jacked in all the rest. Ken may have been the golden boy of Eumorah House, but Andy was the test-tube Hanazin, made perfect through every cell of his superhuman body. The fact these two gorgeous creatures were absolutely obsessed with him, gave Parker the boost of confidence he had been lacking, despite all the new Hanazin upgrades. Then again, what if they were both just reading his mind, and simply being nice?

“Dammit, Parker. You always do this to yourself,” he thought.

When he had been around humans, Parker felt like an absolute God. And by all intents and purposes, he was. Any Hanazin would be when put next to a human man. Hanazin men were a million times stronger and faster, and rarely, if ever, grew tired or needed rest…unless they were training or fighting other Hanazin, of course. Their muscles could grow to proportions that would never be attainable for humans, or all too many other species, for that matter, and the proportions that were attainable for a human man would take him years or even a lifetime to obtain, when it took a Hanazin man only seconds. And come on! Dicks that could grow past 20 inches in length, and have a girth like a cased salami? Yeah. God. Absolutely.

But when Parker arrived at the Academy, he suddenly felt like the same old quiet loner he used to be. It wasn’t a feeling that lasted too long, as he didn’t quite have time to think about it before Ken had introduced himself, and Andy soon to follow. They were his roommates, after all.

Ken was again behind Parker, rubbing his hands over Parker’s ripped, now vibrating and expanding pecs. Ken grasped at both of Parker’s growing chest muscles, as the newly formed veins pulsated into existence over the skin. “We’re not just being nice. Believe me,” Ken said, again through gritted teeth.

Telepathy. Fuck! Again!

Ken began mock-fucking Parker’s backside, ramming his pelvis against his growing’s classmate’s body, the three of them still levitating higher towards the 30 foot ceiling of the classroom. His rock hard fuck stick rested against Parker’s spine, leaking his warm man fluids and engorging against Parker’s skin with moist taps that followed the boy’s beating heart.

Parker felt Ken’s warm, fat cock moving upward towards his shoulders, slick and now trembling like the growing muscles of Parker’s lats. Parker felt his traps shudder before they, too, began their ascent upward.

Ken was always one to point out the details of everyone’s parts—whichever portion or parts his superhuman eyes were set upon at the moment. “I love how your shoulders are so fucking cut, Jameson!” Ken said, his hands patting Parker on his expanding shoulders, just as a new network of veins pulsed into existence. “Fuuuuuck,” he said almost breathlessly, gawking as the chasms between each of Parker’s delt muscles and upper back became more prominent, the newly formed vessels swiftly climbing over the striated fibers like wild ivy to join the throbbing veins of his massive chest.

As for Andy, his fat, veiny fuck rod was bobbing before him in his 16 inches of lubed-up glory. It was clear Andy’s cock was ready for a huge detonation, a flood’s worth of his pre-cum pouring from his tip and running down his shaft and heaving nut sack, warm and viscous, the accompanying minor quakes starting to rattle the room around them with every beat of Andy’s heart, and every bounce of his throbbing piece.

It seemed Parker and Ken had the same idea. They weren’t going to let their good friend forgo the incredible orgasm that was clearly ready to happen.

Ken made sure Andy could see him, and moved out from behind Parker. Ken threw his massive now 18 inch guns up into a double-bicep pose, the muscle springing upward, displaying the lean separation into two parts, throbbing, pumping veins seeming almost to strangle the muscle with its tortuous pathways across the ripped striations.

Andy’s face went from a relaxed affect, to a more fierce one at the sight of Ken’s jacked arms, Andy’s hand now moving across his slick, painfully hard, fuck stick at blinding speed.

Parker threw his arms out to the side, his head tilted towards the ceiling. He saw himself through Andy’s eyes, and he had to admit, he looked sexy as fuck, his entire body trembling and his muscles engorging. His abs pulled closer and closer to his spine by the second, instantly burning all the excess adipose tissue beneath his pale skin, blue vascular networks birthing like new northern flowing rivers, as the new veins crawled over his eight-pack and shredded obliques, stopping just short of the deep lines that defined his serratus muscles.

Parker heard Andy give a telepathic “fuck yeah!”

Ken winked at Parker. “Watch this,” he said.

And with that, Ken bent down into the most intense most-muscular chest flex Parker had ever seen, most especially through someone else’s eyes, as he was still watching the amazing site through Andy’s point of view.

The room shook violently, appearing as if the ceiling would cave in right over them. Ken’s face was incredibly fierce in its affect, thick veins crawling over his forehead, spreading like roots digging into the earth, growing towards the temples of his skull, moving as quickly and visually pleasing as the ones throbbing and climbing the shuddering and reshaping muscles of his ripped forearms, connecting the thicker conduits of his power that were always at his biceps.

Ken’s bellowing grew louder, and soon both Parker and Andy joined him, the three of them viciously jacking their slippery, rock hard dicks.

Parker was still in Andy’s mind, watching as his own sack heaved, and he waited for just that moment when Andy’s brain and entire body fell into ecstasy, as his fellow Eumorah finally detonated.

Something unique to Eumorahs early in their growth, was their ability to be inside the mind and body of another while simultaneously still in their own. And even easier, more powerful, and better the climatic ecstasy, when it was a Eumorah in the mind and body of another Eumorah. They often used it in combat to freeze their opponents before landing a devastating blow, but the boys in blue of course would use it for sexual pleasure as well. Because, why not?

“Okay, boys! Let’s all finish it up!”

Professor Benson.

Lost in Andy’s godly orgasm, and the sight of Professor Benson entering the classroom below them, and all the masterpiece of Hanazin man that he was in Parker’s greatest fantasies, Parker couldn’t help what happened next.

Parker discovered at that moment how much Andy must’ve been infatuated with Professor Benson as well, his classmate’s mind flooding with an influx of pleasure chemicals at the sight of the professor’s wide and meaty chest, tortuous veins almost seeming to strangle the hard, ripped muscle beneath, all of it covered by that dark hair that aided in wafting his godlike scent wherever he graced the world with his presence.

And with that, with the flood of chemicals in Andy’s mind now mixing on a psychic pleasure level with all the chemicals being physically released in Parker’s body—all of it combining to make the world around Parker flash with a brilliant white light, as he fell away into the most unbelievable, almost tantric orgasm and just let his fat, throbbing mass of man meat explode.

[oliver904]

Again, just some recasting for characters because I don't even know where those pictures could be found or who they were of, etc... But I've just been writing a lot. Have more free time currently. Hope you enjoy this one, too.

 

AIDEN

Aiden and the other Tyserrens had been busy with their own fun when that Eumorah kid above them let his cum cannon detonate. The room felt like it would literally rip from the rest of the Academy, the quake shifting the classroom eight feet one way and back the next, and the white light that flooded into them gave Aiden, and all the rest, from what it sounded like, the best orgasm and flood of extra power Aiden had ever experienced.

He blasted into the gorgeous ass of his fellow Tyserren, Ryan, his pearl-white, hot man juice spraying back out of Ryan’s hole like a geyser escaping a plugged up exit. Ryan added to the storm of cum raining down on everyone in Professor Benson’s classroom.

Even the good professor felt the ecstasy that flooded the room, his massive 18 inch cock going full mast immediately, leaking dollops of his manly fluids that ran down his erect and shuddering shaft.

Aiden hadn’t noticed until that moment, that Professor Benson had walked into class completely naked, which was highly unusual with professors.

Aiden watched the muscles of Ryan’s back gradually engorging, his lats spreading outward and becoming leaner by the second, the Christmas tree like pattern more prominent at his lower back. Aiden’s dick bulged and expanded in its girth, still inside the soft confines of Ryan’s ass and still blasting, a puddle of cum at their feet collecting with the rainstorm of jizz his fellow classmates were contributing. Aiden stared down at Ryan’s bubble ass, the striated muscle lean and perfect. And as Aiden pulled his slimy, still sputtering piece out of Ryan, more torrents of warm cum came flowing out of the boy. Aiden immediately rammed his face into Ryan’s ass, tasting his sweet insides mixed with his own white fluid. And Aiden was ravenous.

That white energy that Eumorah boy had released was the purest form of natural energy, and it made Aiden’s libido scream. But such energy is usually the result of all emotion being taken out, and judging by the look and sound of the happenings above them, there was no way the Eumorah boy was without emotion. And God DAMN, is he cute!

“Alright!” Prof. Benson shouted over the commotion. He stabilized the room, a thick vein protruding suddenly from his temple and forehead. “Line up, everyone!”

Aiden could see that the Professor’s body was responding to the power, too, his chest ballooning outward, each pec vibrating and pulsing like he was making them dance for everyone, more thick veins began to come into existence, as his skin grew leaner, and his muscles grew bigger. Professor Benson’s height gradually increased, taking him to over 7 feet. His furry quads were oak like in their thickness, and Aiden watched a bulging vascular network run upward across the inside of the professor’s thigh, connecting the circulation of his now heaving sack, and finishing with the birthing of veins that spread out from under his dark bush and climbed the muscle of his collapsing 10 pack abs.

The students all obeyed, as the classroom returned to normal, the puddles of testosterone laced man juice disappearing as if evaporating into the air. And still, there wasn’t a dick in the classroom that wasn’t ready to detonate, each student’s bobbing before them, thick, and leaking, dripping cum with soft pafts onto the stone floor.

“Now that Mr. Jameson and his friends gave us all a morning boost, I’m sure you’re all more than ready for the lesson I have for you all today,” Professor Benson said. He pointed to his temple. “I know a lot of you are wanting to ask where my uniform has gotten to.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m going to work out with you today, and not just be your instructor. Sound like fun?!!”

The class was completely silent. Probably just in pure shock of the anticipation of Professor Benson working out next to them.

“I said, sound like fun?!!” Professor Benson said, clapping his hands twice to get everyone’s attention out of the daze they all seemed to be in. It was almost deafening to Hanazin ears, and Aiden cringed like he used to when someone would run their nails across the chalkboard.

The students answered this time with a resounding “Yes, sir!”

Aiden’s body was still adjusting to the influx of power, and he stared down at his hands, opening and closing them, the muscles of his forearms shuddering and expanding, pulsating veins channeling his power in V’s and F’s formation routes, connecting as they were born into existence. He watched a network of cords start at his feet and quickly climb the front of his calf, and continuing without interruption to the teardrop muscle of his quads, where it immediately branched out to cover the lean, ripped leg muscle. He’d done it now. Just the second’s look at his transforming body and Aiden was fighting at his limit to keep his cum contained and not spraying over his classmates. The tip of his dick was sputtering and leaking at the same time, his shaft now covered in his natural lubricant.

Each student clasped their four training bands to their wrists and ankles, each successively glowing blue as the lock connection was made.

“First exercise!” said Prof. Benson in a booming voice. “One arm push-ups. 400 count with 2 tons of psychic pressure.” He touched his head and the entire class almost collapsed to their knees. They had gotten stronger over the weeks they’ve been at the academy. “You are to do them in pairs. One with your feet on the ground, and the other with you feet raised completely off the ground.” The professor raised his finger. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the 2 tons of added weight, and stood perfectly still. “Now, this is a strength and muscle growth training exercise, so do not use your psychic energy to lift your feet. It needs to be all muscle, and all strength. I will know if it’s not. Understand?”

The class gave another resounded “Yes, sir!”

“I’ll demonstrate for a count of 50, and you join in after,” Prof. Benson said. He dropped down to the floor, his cock still fully erect and dripping. As it throbbed, the skin of his massive dick would tap the stone floor beneath him.

The class watched with full attention as the professor began his first reps of the exercise, the muscles of his back flexed and moving, showcasing each lean, ripped fiber.

Professor Benson must’ve raised the psychic push on his bands, as they glowed blue again, and his hands fell deeper into the marbled stone. The stone cracked around his fingers, and the professor began grunting.

Aiden swallowed hard. But he knew he wasn’t the only one having trouble holding back the explosion. The class was rattling again.

And it hadn’t taken but a good 15 seconds for the professor to knock out 50 reps, and the class had to again pull away from all their gawking. One by one they all dropped down and joined in.

Immediately, the room shook, and the shaking would grow more violent as student by student finally blew their loads. Professor Benson wasn’t all too strict on cock detonations in class, as he, too, probably had a difficult time. Or so it looked.

The Professor’s now growing body was emanating a yellow energy aura that Aiden could feel pouring into him by the second. And when Professor Benson’s feet would leave the floor, Aiden saw how corded and cut the mans arms were, his triceps the perfect horseshoe shape, a deep chasm between its territory and the bicep’s.

Professor Benson’s ass was incredibly lean, each muscle of his glutes showing its function in holding the masterpiece upward as his feet again left the floor.

The class all followed the professor’s example and held one hand behind their back. Ryan was in front of Aiden, his entire body rattling. Ryan had better strength and muscle growth abilities than Aiden had himself, so he was growing muscle and pumping out reps a bit quicker as well. But Aiden didn’t mind. He had a front row ticket to see the boy’s body expanding, and a good viewpoint of his massive meat smacking the stone floor beneath him as he came down on each rep.

Veins climbed Ryan’s perfectly cut, diamond shaped calves, crossing the deep chasm between the two muscles and joining the network of pulsating and birthing veins at his hamstrings.

By the 200^th rep, Aiden’s own body was starting to noticeably fill out. He could feel his lats pushing outward and had to adjust his positioning a few times. His hands grew wider and his fingers thicker, and thick cords seemingly strangled the muscles of his forearm. His arms were the perfect picture of how a Tyserren’s should look; lean, ripped, and covered with thick conduits of veins, carrying power to every striated fiber of muscle.

The professor’s bands glowed blue again, and his hands smashed deeper into the marbled stone floor. His grunting grew louder, his veins pulsed thicker, and FUCK his scent was all over every molecule of air.

When they had finished with the 400^th rep with both arms, Professor Benson used his one arm to pounce up 10 feet into the air, flip around, and land lithely on his feet, his now even more massive pecs bouncing as he landed.

As for the students, Aiden didn’t see one any one of them whose bodies weren’t adjusting to the stress their bodies had just been put through. All around him, Aiden watched the Eumorahs and Tyserrens  transforming into a lineup of young, pro-bodybuilders. Yes, even the Tyserrens! Aiden couldn’t believe it. He’d never seen his classmates so incredibly massive.

“Take a break,” Professor Benson said.

Aiden had to admit that he was a little disappointed that the professor didn’t let his dick relieve all the excess power that was likely still building up within—

“Fine, fine I’ll do it,” Professor Benson suddenly said, turning around and jacking his thick, and slippery fuck pole, his hand sliding over the shaft in blurs, until the tip of his now 20 inch rod engorged like it was about to hurl, and Professor Benson let out a long, drawn out moan and threw his arms out to his sides. He roared, the tip of his cock exploding and sending a powerful, hot spray of the most unbelievable sweet tasting, raw smelling jizz 15 feet into the air to rain like a torrential downpour onto the students, who added to the eruption and violent shaking of the classroom.

But soon it was a mess of wild streams spraying all over the place, as the professor’s body let out a surge of yellow energy that threw everyone into the air and slammed them against the far wall, everyone in the room, even Professor Benson, now letting their thick tools spray over each other, hands free.

At the sight of the professors muscles shuddering and inflating, and birthing new thick, throbbing, and pulsating veins, Aiden’s already spent cock became steel once more, as the professors energy again pulsed outward and pinned the entire class against the walls and pushed them higher and higher upwards towards the ceiling.

Professor Benson had to be like 9 feet tall at that point, his lats pushing a good 5 feet wide, the muscles like wings from the frontal view. His v-shaped torso became even more prominent as his shoulders inflated and shuddered in their growth, and any fat tissue left at his waist dissolved away, his adonis belt forming deeper pits between the bottom of his abs and tops of his quads.

Professor Benson finished with a whoop, and the class dropped to the floor, their bodies smacking the marbled stone and cracking it.

But the quakes didn’t stop, and even Aiden couldn’t help but need to let it all out once more. He looked over at Ryan and almost lost his breath. The boy was almost the same size as Professor Hyperion, one of the larger professors at the Academy, and was just as vascular. The veins covering his still shaking and vibrating pecs looked like a weird spiderweb, and Ryan bent down into a most muscular, his traps immediately inflating with power, veins surfacing over his forehead and face as he fiercely bellowed and let his yellow energy loose. Students all around him came, and Aiden again sprayed his hot manly fluids into the air. Every student was naked, covered in white jizz, and growing.

Ryan approached Aiden and simply shook his head, his eyes leeringly looking Aiden over. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he said, almost breathless. “God damn, you’re fucking sexy.”

And Aiden didn’t disagree. He couldn’t. Like a lot of the class, he hadn’t realized that he had slipped into his Intermediate power level. And still, power flowed all around them, wafting in a thick, collective aura of yellow and white energy. Every part of Aiden was still shaking, vibrating, and still growing more massive and striated. He stared at Ryan’s chest and watched the muscle shudder and expand by the second, the striated, ripped fibers underneath his skin building on one another, supplied by the thick vessels that fed them their needed power.

Aiden grinned. “You look magnificent as ever,” he said to Ryan.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “And yet never as magnificent as you.”

The two of them laughed, Ryan gripped Aiden’s still erect tool, pulled it downward, and released it to thwack against Aiden’s ripped eight pack.

Aiden saw then that the Eumorah that painted the class white earlier was staring at him, but soon realized the boy was staring at someone else behind him.

Aiden turned his head out of curiosity.

Another student had entered the room, fully dressed in his Tyserren orange, and appearing incredibly lost. His dark, almost caramel colored skin was smooth in all the right places, and tufts of curly black hair covered the other places. Those, too, were also very, VERY right. He had a full beard cut short to trace the strong lines of his handsome face.

“Who’s that?” Ryan asked Aiden.

“How should I know?” Aiden said. He elbowed Ryan, then added, “And don’t go perusing his mind, too. Kind of a rude thing to do, yanno?”

One of the Eumorahs leaned in towards Ryan and Aiden. “Well allow me to be rude then,” he said, chuckling a little. “Sorry. Can’t help it.” It was the Eumorah from earlier that had gone into the most muscular flex and started the detonation sequence for his fellow Eumorahs. “From what I’m getting, his name is Jerrod Hendrix,” he continued. “Obviously new. Obviously sexy as fuck!”

“Hendrix,” Ryan said. “Do you think he’s related?”

“To Jimmie?” the Eumorah asked.

“To Professor Hendrix,” Aiden said, rolling his eyes. His traps were still pulsating and growing thicker and rising up his neck.

The Eumorah threw one of his 22 inch arms over Aiden’s widening and incredibly ripped shoulders. “I’m joking!” he said with a laugh. “If he is, that would make him like Academy royalty.”

Aiden thought the title wouldn’t be such a bad one to have. Academy royalty. Although he didn’t know what it would entail, but being born into royalty never seemed like a bad gig. Prince of the Hanazin Warrior Academy, Aiden thought to himself. He shrugged his two now massively meatier shoulders. He already had worshipers, what else did he really want. Hanazins don’t even need money once they learn how to manipulate matter effectively.

Aiden was pulled out of his daze by the sound of the Eumorah slapping Ryan on his still naked ass. “Let’s go say hi.”

[aiden831]

Holy shit! That's me! I remember helping out back on the old site, designing my "brothers," and a bit of backstory. I'd actually only just recently started writing my own little thing on the side, but I'm glad to see you're back! I'm kind of curious where Aiden's story with Ryan is going to go, since, if I remember correctly, Aiden wasn't the happiest, having left behind an ex in the human world.

[DawnFire98]

Love the many instances, where you describe heartbeats and vascularity, @oliver904. Also, the characters seem interesting. Curious to see more. 

[Two]

Love to see this story is back, it was one of my favourites back then.

[oliver904]

The call came in the middle of the night. Not a phone call. But a call from someone Mateo had been wanting to hear from since they had last spoken a week ago. His best friend, and closest confidant, and closest fuck-buddy Tyson.

Mateo and Tyson would speak every night, sometimes with lots to say, sometimes little; sometimes just to chat, and other times to make plans to meet up, just the two of them. And sometimes just the two of them plus one other…and maybe another if he was sexy enough...and sometimes another after that, depending on the night, really. For years this continued on as a regular pattern—their thing, if you will. And both Mateo and Tyson could be described as "easy on the eyes", and in some circles, easy in general. But the two of them took the description in good humor, even if it had given them a bit of a reputation around their small town.

But then it all stopped.

Just like that. On that morning after. After that night he and Tyson had met up with that guy they had messaged on one of the hookup apps. It was more of Tyson’s kind of thing, as Mateo wasn’t really the kind of guy to put himself out there. It wasn’t like he was shy or anything, but he just wasn’t one to promote himself to the scene. Even before all the… “changes”, Mateo came to refer to it all—even before that, he was what the ladies would call “cute”, and his fellow gays might call “hot”. He was lean, and slim in all the right places—a swimmer in high school, continuing on through to his now early college years. But weights? Not really Mateo’s cup of tea. Tyson, on the other hand? Star soccer athlete, golden child, and the toned body to match. Totally could be considered a ladies man…if he didn’t like dick so much.

But it was a night that Tyson had wanted to invite a third into their sexual fiascos. Neither Mateo nor Tyson could’ve known whom exactly they were messaging that night, or whom exactly they had invited over. They honestly had thought his pics were faked, morphed, or stolen. But Tyson had been in a gambling mood, and they took their chances and asked him over.

This guy had a body like a fucking roided pro-bodybuilder, and had arrived at Tyson’s front door in nothing more than a pair of denim shorts and the Nikes on his feet. And as the guy stood there with that cocky smirk on his face, the seams of his shorts could be heard slowly stretching and snapping apart.

Tyson had let the guy in, and immediately Mateo felt his dick go stiff, and fill his pants with the gush and wetness of his warm fluids. Mateo spotted Tyson falling against the adjacent wall, the two of them simultaneously trying to hide their twitches, jerks, and contorted facial expressions. But neither of them let out a moan, but judging from the pattern of their breathing, the two of them had busted a nut before that guy had even placed a hand on them. Mateo couldn’t speak for Tyson, but he had felt something pulsating from the guy the second the giant mass of muscle had crossed the threshold. The scent that wafted off of him was the most intoxicating musky odor Mateo had ever smelled. It was a pungent mix of the kind of odor you smell off a guy when he’s been out working in the hot sun all day, and something amber-like, something sweet, and something Mateo’s nose had yet to ever be acquainted. Mateo felt like he couldn’t take a breath without feeling the scent physically move through his body—through him far more than in just a figurative sense. He could actually feel it filling his nostrils and circulating in his nasal cavity, moving into his lungs, and almost becoming a part of his own blood. It made Mateo’s insides flutter with a sense of apprehension, and an insatiable need to grab, lick, or breath in every part of the muscle god he could see, smell, or feel—at every opportunity, with every passing second.

But, Mateo, having felt he could only speak for himself personally, well…he had to admit he was a little scared of this Kryptonian-sized sample of man.  The guy definitely had a certain danger about him. Like at any moment, he could literally crush Mateo and Tyson with his bare hands. His arms were the size of three of Tyson’s arms, and Mateo had gazed longingly at the thick cords that wrapped tortuously around this guy's thick, striated muscle. Mateo just couldn't believe a body could be so fucking veiny--like if you took this guy's skin off, it would be much the same amazing sight, as he seemed to have not a bit of fat to speak of, hiding beneath his skin. Mateo swore he could see every fibrous, sinewy strand of protein that each of this guy's massive muscles were made of. It just didn't seem humanly possible. And of course, as the night wore on, it only became more apparent; this guy was far from an ordinary human.

As he had stepped further into Tyson’s place, the sound of ripping seams only increased in speed and volume, until finally outdone by the sudden rent of fabric. Mateo and Tyson watched the guy’s denim shorts fall off of his waist and plop onto the floor. Almost simultaneously, the guy’s enormous, dripping man meat came flying upward, like a fleshy catapult, shattering the giant porcelain vase in front of it. It was Tyson’s favorite, most prized, and most expensive part of his various archeological collections.

But Tyson hadn't uttered a word. Like Mateo, he had been rendered speechless at the sight of the guy's enormous, dripping masterpiece of hardened cock. It had to have been 15 inches, easily, and had the girth of one of Mateo's large cased-salamis he'd make every morning at his uncle's butcher's shop. The skin appeared taut, stretched tight around the still engorging tool, and Mateo had again let the guy's musky scent invade his airway, and make his mouth start to water.

"Matti, you can hear me, right?"

Tyson's voice again echoed in Mateo's head, pulling him out of the daze he was in, after having recalled the events of that night. Was he imagining it all? No way. Not after the events that had occurred--most especially in the last two days--not after Mateo had witnessed himself doing unbelievable things. It wasn't a dream, or his overactive imagination. And it wasn't the stuff Mateo had been smoking, as no matter how much he would smoke, he never got even a little high.

“Matti!”

Tyson’s voice bursted through a bit louder this time.

“Matti, you can hear me, right? Come on! Say something.”

But Mateo didn’t know how. He figured he’d try just thinking about what he would say in response. “I can hear you…I think,” he managed. “I’m not sure you can hear me, Ty.”

At first there was only silence, then, “Yeah! Fuck, Matti, I hear you!”

Mateo immediately began thinking all the things he wanted to talk to Tyson about since that day—since his body and his mind started changing and it all came out in a cacophony of rambling thoughts.

"Whoa! Slow down!" Tyson said.

“I’ve been trying to call you," Mateo said, gathering his thoughts. "But you haven’t been answering your phone—”

“Because I fucking crushed it,” Tyson said. “I mean that literally. On accident, of course. You had called and I went to pick it up and I moved so fast, and I didn’t realize or know…” he trailed off.

Mateo finished for him. “Didn’t know your own strength.”

There was a pause in the conversation.

Mateo stared down at his forearms, watching as a sinewy network climbed upward to join the thick, pulsating cord at his bicep. His throbbing, uncut 12-incher bobbed before him with each beat of his heart, the veins of his foreskin engorging, disappearing, engorging again—like slow and paced breathing, feeding his giant, lubed-up fuck stick.

“It was him,” Tyson said, breaking the silence. “That guy we hooked up with.”

“Sean,” Mateo said. “I couldn’t remember his name until this morning. I couldn’t remember a lot of things. Now I feel I remember everything. And I mean everything. Not just that night and what happened. I mean everything. Facts and figures I learned in the 6th grade, and the words my dad had said to me on my 14th birthday just before blowing out the candles on my cake. If I think hard enough, I can remember everything in my life. Every detail. Perfectly.”

“Me, too," Tyson said. He paused. “Every word of every conversation I’ve ever had, and forgot I had.” He let out a quick breath, like something between a sigh and a scoff. “I feel like this is all too good to be true, like there’s gotta be a catch to this. Come over to my place. I think we need to talk.”

Mateo scanned his bedroom, his body and his walls painted white with his still warm man juice. He could still see a bit of himself in the mirror’s reflection across from him, his blue eyes still brightly glinting in the dimness of the room. His bedsheets were drenched and stuck to his growing body like a second skin, but the throbbing of his muscles and the pulsating of the newly birthing vascular networks were still incredibly visible. “I might need a bit of time to get cleaned up and dressed.”

This time, Tyson did scoff. “Dude, if I’m right about what happened, you should be able to run here in about two minutes time.”

Mateo smirked at the notion. “You only live 20 miles north of me. I can make it in one. Distance isn’t the problem. I was sorta—”

“You got jizz all over your bedroom, don’t you,” Tyson said. He laughed. “I’ll come to you then and show you a trick I learned.”

***

Tyson had arrived in less than a minute, but it wasn’t his speed that had Mateo unable to speak.

Tyson’s white tank clung to his perfectly ripped, now gymnast-like physique. It was like he had spent his life in one of those proper gymnasiums, doing tumbles and iron crosses every second of every day. Thick veins covered the skin exposed from his shirt, spreading outward over his striated chest. The short dark hair looked even more radiant than it ever did, like he had just finished a modeling shoot for a shampoo ad.

He had cleaned up Mateo’s mess with a simple raise of a glowing hand, the puddles of cum appearing as if evaporating into the air. And when Mateo’s lamp was free to shine on Tyson, the translucent hair that covered his magnificent body glowed and shimmered like he was some kind of godly creature.

“Pretty fucking amazing huh,” Tyson said, with that damn cute, dimpled smile of his.

“What?” Mateo said, shaking himself out of the trance he’d fallen into. “What was that?”

“The quick clean-up,” Tyson said. “It’s like I figured it to be like some sort of matter manipulation, like reorganizing the molecules to break it down into a gas and aerosolize. It’s like my brain knows how to do it instinctually.” He looked at Mateo curiously. “You don’t see it?”

Mateo shook his head. “Not instinctually. But I’ve had my fair share of some pretty remarkable things.”

“Like what?” Tyson asked, sliding into Mateo’s bed.

Mateo moved over a bit to make room. Tyson was a bit bigger now, after all. Mateo swallowed hard, as Tyson’s scent wafted over to his nose each time his friend would move. “Well,” he said. “When I found out about the strength upgrade, I wanted to test it out at the gym.” He paused, Tyson waiting for him to continue. “So, I did,” he said, simply.

“That it?” Tyson said.

Mateo clicked his tongue. “I loaded the bar to the brim with 45 lb. plates. The free bench press. Not the Smith Machine, but the fucking flat bench. And it felt like nothing, like styrofoam—I mean, you could see my body working, my muscles fucking pumped and straining, but I didn’t feel it.  And then—”

“Your body started to grow,” Tyson said. “Almost instantly. Like your muscles were adapting to the stress that was being placed on them, and growing accordingly.” Tyson was always so fucking intelligent, even if he didn’t always come off as the brainy type. Even more so, he was always so hyper aware and never missed any of the details. “Granted,” Tyson continued, “the size a human would have to be to lift such a thing…so, it got me thinking, there’s gotta be some sort of variable offset to our strength. Like how spiders and ants lift so much more times their actual body weight.” He turned to look at Mateo, the emerald color of his eyes brighter than usual. “Pretty awesome, isn’t it!”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mateo said. “It was an exhilarating thing to see.” He paused for a second, then said, “for everyone.” He sighed and hung his head. “I have never looked better, but I felt so exposed, for some reason. I have never been stronger, but I felt so afraid of everything.”

“You sound like a poet,” Tyson said.

Mateo playfully bumped shoulders with his good friend, the force of it moving the bed an entire two feet in the same direction.

Tyson chuckled after the two of them had regained their composure. “You see the experience as mortifying,” he said. “But I bet it was hot as fuck,” Tyson said.

Mateo rolled his eyes. “I sound like the poet, and you’re starting to sound like a prepubescent horn-dog.” Mateo smirked, but chuckled. “I dunno. A part of me did actually like it,” he admitted. “I watched it all unfolding in the mirror in front of me. I only did 3 reps before racking the bar again, because the weight was causing the bar to go all frowny.”

“Frowny?”

“It got all bent up,” Mateo said. “You know from the weight. I felt if I had done more reps, the plates would’ve just slipped right off the bar. But I could’ve gone and done another 100 if I had wanted it, maybe 200, maybe even 300. I genuinely felt nothing.”

“I know what you’re saying,” Tyson said, looking down at his arm and doing a mock bicep curl. The muscle of his arm contracted and newly born veins climbed upward over the perfectly defined duel components from which the bicep gets its name. “Even the tiniest amount of stress can trigger the muscle growth,” Tyson continued. “I figure it might be a mind body connection thing, too. Like our own awareness also plays a part in letting the body know it needs to grow. Whatever it is, it’s pretty damn amazing.” He turned back to look at Mateo. “Tell me you didn’t get boned watching your reflection. I do. Every time I see myself growing in the mirror, my dick grows right along with it.”

Mateo groaned. “Of course I did. Right in front of everybody.” He buried his head in his hands. “What guy wouldn’t watching his muscles engorging and getting bigger instantly. I mean, I put on 50 lbs. of muscle in a day’s time, and dropped down to 8% body fat from 18% in that same day. It was like watching all my dreams come true in less than a minute, right in front of me, in my own reflection.”

“You speak about the whole experience as if it’s a bad thing, Matti,” Tyson said. “So your 12 inch dick flopped out for everyone in the gym to see. Not one person laughed, nor did they say much of anything, did they.”

“They thought it,” Mateo said. “I could hear them like I had heard you earlier. In my head.”

“But none of it was even mean,” Tyson said, placing a hand on one of Mateo’s massive shoulders.

“Well no, they weren’t, but…” Mateo stopped for a second and turned to look back at Tyson. “How do you know?”

Tyson shrugged. “Is it my fault that you’re practically live streaming your thoughts into my brain.”

Mateo’s face contorted in confusion. “You mean, you can hear my thoughts without me letting you into my head?”

“You can’t do the same to mine?” Tyson asked.

Mateo shook his head. “Not really. But I haven’t really tried it out.”

“Maybe this is all stuff we have to figure out on our own,” Tyson said. He shrugged. “But in the meantime, why not have some fun with what we do know about our new bodies.” He raised both arms into a double bicep flex, the muscle rising from his arms like it had leaped from his skin and inflated into the size of softballs.

Mateo’s dick responded immediately, tenting the blanket he had thrown over himself…why he had done so, he didn’t know. Modesty? He laughed at the thought.

“What?” Tyson said. “Me? Modest?”

“Not you,” Mateo quickly answered. “I was just thinking…never mind. And stay out of my head, asshole! That’s really annoying.”

“Can’t help it if you’re broadcasting to me in Prime Time,” Tyson said, sticking out his tongue.

Mateo countered by grabbing the back of Tyson’s head at lightning speed, and pulling him forward to put that tongue down his own throat. The two of them were making out like they hadn’t seen each other in over 20 years, when it’s only been about a week apart. But this was the first time the two of them were together in their new bodies, and the electrified feeling that literally transferred between Mateo and Tyson seem to charge their bodies for more amazing things to come.

Tyson pulled away from Mateo for just a second. “What about your uncle? What did he say when you went to work?”

Mateo’s face contorted in confusion. “Why are you asking about my uncle now?” Tyson and his attention to every detail, Mateo thought to himself…or maybe not just to himself.

Tyson shrugged. “Forget it.” He nudged his chin in the direction of Mateo’s rising blanket tent, which was now erecting itself slowly, bobbing before his favorite fuck-buddy. “I’m blushing.” He grinned. “Guess I should turn up the heat then, huh.”

With that, Tyson grabbed the collar of his tank with both hands, then slowly rented the fabric into two.

“God damn,” Mateo muttered. It was all he could manage. And the next second, he pounced towards Tyson, grabbed his lean, hard body, and slammed him back down onto his bed, cracking the frame and box spring down the middle.

“God damn is right,” Tyson said, grinning even wider. “Hope that wasn’t expensive.”