Freshman Roommate (Part 5)

[countmuscle]

Longer one, hope you enjoy!

 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

 

Part 5:

Summer break arrived, grim as a prison sentence. To be away from Frank for mere hours felt like torture. Especially now that I was a full-blown roid pig, and my sex drive was insatiable. How was I going to survive back home for three months?

For his part, Frank was just as upset. He had to stay on campus for football training — same dorm room, no me.

 

“Will you promise me something?” he asked on my last day, as we lay in bed together. 

 

I was tracing my fingers through the violent grooves of his eight pack.

 

“Of course, what is it?”

 

I was expecting him to ask me to remain faithful, to not mess around with other guys. Now that I looked like this, I attracted leers anywhere I went, from men and women alike. Everyone wanted me. 

 

But that’s not what Frank was talking about. 

 

“Don’t stop lifting and growing this summer,” he said. “I want to see you get even bigger. I want you to keep eating, keep cycling. Stay focused on muscle all summer. All day, every day. Come back even bigger than you are now. Come back so big, people will gasp when they see you. So big they won’t even recognize you. James, your body has already responded better than I had hoped. You’re a hunk now, but I can make you a freak. A muscle freak. So huge. We’ll make you so big. 290, maybe even 300 pounds. Oh my god bro... Fuck....Big as a pro bodybuilder. Bigger. The two of us. Waddling around campus. Fucking and fucking nonstop. Two muscle freaks. One tall, one short. Sex every hour. All that muscle. Muscle, sex. Roids. Fucking beasts. Huge. So huge. Muscle, big muscle, so strong, so much muscle, so much musc-- oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck James! I can’t handle it. Holy shit! UNHHHH!”

 

Frank grabbed behind my neck with one huge hand, and stuck his tongue down my mouth forcefully. At the same moment, his dick sprayed a huge load without warning or even any touch. Rope after rope shot up and landed in Frank’s beard and on his veiny neck. I counted 8 ropes! All while he kissed me passionately -- almost desperately. 

 

This happened anytime Frank talked about my muscle growth. 

 

Nothing turned him on more, not even his own muscular development. The second he started to envision me growing bigger, he'd burn beet red, wheeze loudly. His eyes would unfocus and look manic. His cock would shoot up as fast as a soldier's salute. As a rule, he'd eventually devolve into muttering "muscle" over and over again, like an incantation, until he came spontaneously. These would always be his biggest loads (which is really saying something).

 

Each time Frank spiraled like this, his fantasies got more extreme. First it was bulking me up to 230 pounds, now it was 300. 

 

Of course, I couldn't have been more turned on either. I loved watching him lose control like this. I also started to realize that these fantasies could actually become a reality. I was almost 19, and already 225 pounds. To become a genuine mass monster, even a professional bodybuilder, suddenly felt plausible, especially while Frank was around. 

 

Laying beside him, I stroked my bulging pecs, arms, shoulders, quads, glutes... I was still blown away by their size. I soon came a load almost as large as Frank's. His fantasy was now my reality, my goal.

 

--

 

So I had my marching orders for the summer. I also had (thanks to Frank) a year's worth of tren packed in my suitcase.

 

With a heavy heart, it was time for me to head home. We had one last, incredible fuck session. Then another one. Then another one. Then finally, realizing I was about to miss my flight, I called an Uber and dashed off. Frank's dry cum still coated me underneath my super-tight clothes. The aroma of his pits was on my face in the cab, which gave me a throbbing boner the entire ride to the airport.

 

I was 5'9, 18 y/o, 225 pounds. Tight denim jeans tearing inside the crotch. Light blue college t-shirt so tight you could see every ridge of my abs, both my nipples, my thick upper pecs almost touching my chin. Whenever I glanced at my reflection in a mirror or window, I was astonished at how wide I looked -- and also how obscene. Like a bodybuilder in the first minute of a gay porno, wearing ridiculous, undersized clothes. Stares from every direction as I rushed through the airport to board my plane.

 

The gay flight attendant did a double take when he welcomed me on board. For a second, his mouth was agape. I winked, and he went red. I knew I looked like a fantasy cooked up in a lab.

 

I approached my seat. A small, nerdy kid with glasses my same age -- no doubt on his way home from college as well -- regarded me with terror. 

 

I weighed a hundred pounds more than him, even though we were about the same height. As I stretched to stow my bag in the overhead bin, my tight shirt left my slightly hairy, washboard abs exposed. My bulging crotch was one inch from the kid's face. I'm sure he could smell the cum and sweat inside.

 

I sat down beside him, my weight shaking the plane seat. All the color drained from his cheeks.

 

The plane took off. The cabin lights dimmed, and almost everyone fell asleep.

 

This was my first time in a plane seat since my "growth spurt." My shoulders and arms jutted well into the nerd's personal space. My hard tricep rubbed against his sad, noodley arm. I kept thinking how, just six months ago, I was this geek's size. We were probably the exact same age, yet I could do military presses with his body and not even break a sweat. Maybe even with one arm.

 

I thought: Should I apologize for how much space I was taking up? I really was encroaching a full quarter into his seat. My bulging shoulder was digging into his tiny body. (The other one jutted into the aisle, so no one could pass by without brushing it.) My arm wasn't even on the arm rest, that's how wide I was. 

 

Then I noticed that the nerd was awkwardly covering up a boner in his lap. 

 

"Heh," I laughed under my breath. 

 

I turned my bulging neck and looked him in the eyes. I winked. He went as red as a firetruck. 

 

Now I was feeling arrogant.

 

Discreetly, without anyone noticing, I grabbed his wrist and laid it on my bicep. I flexed, and the little nerd squeezed as hard as he could. (Not very.) Then I guided his tiny arm up under my shirt. I let him feel my pecs. I bounced them up and down as he groped them pathetically. His grip suddenly weakened.

 

"Uff!" he whimpered. I saw a dark spot growing in his pants. My huge muscles had just made him cum. 

 

"Good boy," I whispered, and pushed him away, before anyone noticed. 

 

Fun as this mile-high muscle worship was, I was already missing Frank. 

 

I scrolled through the hundreds of X-rated pictures and videos of him on my phone, both heartbroken and incredibly aroused. Pics of us together when I was just 180 pounds, and he was 375. Videos of me pounding him doggy style, his back muscles jiggling. 

 

I could feel the nerd's prying eyes on my screen.

 

I stumbled upon a recent, shirtless, chest-up picture of Frank, from his 430-pound era. He was smiling, as handsome as a movie star, but his furry pecs and shoulders looked so shockingly pumped that the nerd gasped.

 

"Your...boyfriend?" he asked meekly. 

 

"You could say that," I replied.

 

"Oh my God. He's... huge," he whispered, looking at Frank's picture in disbelief. He was spellbound.

 

Now I had a painful erection. I lowered the seat back tray to hide it. 

 

But my heart was heavy. Three months apart. It sunk in. 

 

What if Frank found someone new? Someone even bigger than me? Vague jealousy burned like flames in my mind. 

 

I felt more motivated than ever to grow this summer. I'd come back so huge that Frank would be shocked, so big he could never find someone hotter than me. So big, so fucking big, so much muscle... my mind looped and looped, just like Frank's. Maybe it was the tren.

 

The nerd watched as I took out a two-pound Tupperware container. Ground chicken, brown rice. 120 grams protein. It was a four-hour flight, and I had three of these meals to eat.

 

--

 

To say my parents were horrified would be an understatement.

 

At the airport, they didn't even recognize me at first.

 

"It's me, it's James," I assured them. Even my voice was deepened by the roids. They hugged me like I was a science-fiction monster, confused and alarmed.

 

You have to remember that the last time they had seen me, just six months prior, I was a lean, 155-pound kid. Now I was 225 pounds. I had told them I was bigger, that I'd been lifting, but not much else. 

 

Now, their charming, sensitive, academically inclined son was a roided-out meathead, more muscular than a Chippendale's dancer. Voice deeper, face wider but still jarringly boyish on a thick neck that stretched my shirt collar. Obscene, veiny muscles bulging everywhere -- ass, shoulders, pecs, arms, traps -- beastly, erotic bulges attracting stares from all corners.

 

The next few days were pretty awful.

 

Long fights ensued. Vehement lectures about the dangers of steroids (which I denied using, lol). Insistence that I see a psychiatrist for "bigorexia." 

 

But I knew what body dysmorphia was, and I didn't have it. I didn't think I was small. I thought I was huge. And I loved it. And now the only thing I wanted was to get bigger. All my parents’ anxieties and pressure didn’t amount to much when I thought of the sweaty, hairy, 430-pound muscle bottom that was waiting for me back at school. Frank’s special kind of madness had infected me. Logical reason fell by the wayside. All that mattered anymore was muscle and sex. 

 

With horror, it dawned on my parents that not only had I transformed utterly...I wasn't finished yet!

 

I hadn't lined up a single thing to do that summer except train and eat and cycle on more and more gear. 

 

No internship, no summer job, no friends or social life even. Just gym and consuming shocking amounts of protein, day in, day out. 

 

Every now and then, I might come across a hulking gorilla at the gym or on Grindr, and I'd fuck their brains out. But those were my only, occasional distractions.

 

If that was cheating on Frank, then it hardly counted, because Frank had spoiled me for sex. Guys smaller than 230 pounds no longer interested me -- and even when I found a roided-out muscle bottom, he'd never have a cock as massive and beautiful as Frank's was, or a face as handsome, or lips as soft.

 

By my 19th birthday, late in June, I was 235 -- up a full ten pounds from my last weigh-in, and yet leaner and more defined than ever.

 

My parents pretty much cut me off.

 

They'd still pay for college in the fall, they said, but they didn't want to underwrite the money I was spending on food and new clothes and probably steroids that summer. 

 

Yet I soon realized that I could make a fortune doing cam shows, just flexing and jerking off for ridiculous rates, and could even raise my prices as I grew bigger and freakier each week. (Being hung didn’t hurt either.) So money became a non-issue. It poured in. In fact, I was making more than my parents did, unbeknownst to them.

 

By early August, I was 250 pounds, a number that shocked even me. By then, my largest shirts fit like crop tops and left my well-defined abs exposed.

 

Finally, my parents put their foot down. 

 

Either I see a psychiatrist, or they would stop paying my tuition. Reluctantly, I agreed.

 

Through a stroke of luck, this ultimatum totally backfired on them.

 

Within seconds of meeting my handsome, 30-something psychiatrist ("call me Justin") I realized he was gay. I could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure as he looked me up and down.

 

As soon as the door of his office closed, I literally tore off my shirt.

 

I practically leapt over his desk and shoved his face in between my pecs, forced him to suck on my perfect nipples. I flexed a bicep (21 inches) and pushed it into his face. He moaned and slobbered all over my peak, then huffed my musky pits. I swiped all the stuff off his desk -- it crashed on the floor -- and I roughly laid him out on the surface. I picked him up and started doing military presses with his body, over and over, with perfect form. I could tell from the bulge in his pants how much he was loving my show of strength. 

 

Then I laid him down on the chaise lounge (where I was supposed to be in therapy). I sat on his face, and enjoyed the frantic, overwhelmed way he ate out my bubble butt, no doubt the most muscular one he had ever seen.

 

The shrink quickly came in his nice slacks. But I wasn't through with him. I flipped around and shoved my 8-inch cock down his throat. At first he nearly choked, but eventually managed to suck me dry. My load was enormous. All this worship had made me more horned up than I'd been in months.

 

I started to put my tattered, indecent clothes back on.

 

"That's all the time we have for today," I joked as I walked out the door -- knowing he'd never forget how good my ass looked as I left.

 

--

 

A few days later, I overheard Dr. Justin debriefing my parents on our session on speakerphone.

 

"Mr. and Mrs. Keller, you have nothing to worry about. James shows no signs of body dysmorphia or any other psychiatric disorder. Bodybuilding is a perfectly legitimate sport, and you should be encouraging James for his dedication and hard work. In fact, I'm a little disappointed that you have been so dismissive of James's athletic goals."

 

My mom fell for it, hook, line and sinker.

 

"Oh, God, you're right. How could we have been so unsupportive? I feel terrible." 

 

But my dad raged. "Encouraging THIS!? But the boy looks like a FREAK!"

 

“Mr. Keller, I don’t think words like ‘freak’ are helpful here.”

 

"Honey, listen to the doctor. We need to support James."

 

"But what about the steroids?!"

 

"In my medical opinion, I see no signs that James is abusing steroids. After speaking with him, it is my belief that he simply has excellent adherence to his diet and exercise regimen -- as well as a genetic predisposition for muscular hypertrophy."

 

"BUT HE'S GROWING FIVE POUNDS A WEEK! THE KID HAS 21-INCH ARMS!"

 

"Ron! Don't second-guess the doctor. He's the expert here."

 

"Well, all of this being said, I do think James would benefit from continuing therapy. Maybe you could send him back to my office?"

 

-- 

 

Although my dad wasn't happy, that was the end of the fighting. My parents yielded to my increasingly extreme lifestyle and size. 

 

Emboldened, I dramatically increased my tren and macros, and by the end of the summer, I was teetering at 265 pounds, up a full 40 pounds since June, and 110 pounds since January.

 

I wasn't just training my muscles…

 

As long as I'd known Frank, I'd never been able to bottom for him. His 10.5" dick was too much for me. I couldn’t even get it inside me.

 

So all summer, I was practicing with bigger and bigger toys, getting ready to ride his almost fist-sized cock the day we reunited.

 

Even though Frank was on my mind constantly, we hadn't corresponded much. It was pointless to text or call him. He lived in the moment, whether lifting or eating or fucking or practicing, and barely looked at his phone. The messages I sent would sit unread for days, driving me into a frenzy of insecurity. The few messages I got back were dashed off in pidgin English. ("miss u 2 bro, iam jo 2u rn. still growin??") Sometimes I thought he was barely literate.

 

Plus, there was a tacit understanding between us that we didn't want to reveal too much. We both wanted to be shocked by each other's growth when we finally reunited in person.

 

Imagine what Frank is going to think when he sees me. That was all I thought, day in and day out, as I pounded protein shakes, pushed barbells, and pegged myself in my locked bedroom. One hot August afternoon, as a twelve-inch dildo ripped through my bubble butt, I came the biggest load of the whole summer, picturing the shock on Frank's face when he'd finally see me next week.

 

-- 

 

The day came. I was returning to college for sophomore year.

 

Unlike my last flight, this time, I knew I was far too big to fly coach. I just wouldn't fit. So I used some of my cam money to upgrade to First Class. Even in the larger seats, my lats spilled out comically. A tank top, barely a scrap of fabric, left half my pecs and both nipples completely exposed.

 

It was pretty fun to watch the other passengers trudge by, the look of shock on their faces when they saw a 265-pound, 19-year old bodybuilder looking back at them arrogantly.  I made sure they all had to brush past my veiny arm, which jutted into the aisle. Especially the nerds around my age, whom I took special pleasure in intimidating. 

 

I didn't eat any of the First Class food, though. I brought seven pounds of ground beef and rice in three huge Tupperware containers. Spent most of the flight stuffing my face, trying not to leak too much pre-cum thinking about my growing muscles -- and of the furry, wheezing, waddling mass monster that was waiting for me back on campus. Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank.

 

After I was done eating my Tupperware meals, I started rubbing my bulging chest, flexing my arms, turned on by my own mass. The other people in First Class glared at me. I’ll admit, my behavior and appearance were pretty shocking. 

 

My dick got so painfully hard that I needed to rub one out. 

 

I stuffed myself into the airplane bathroom, barely able to close the door. I felt like a sardine. Then I looked in the mirror. I almost came on the spot. I could not believe how massive I had become. I pulled my cock out of my sweatpants and flopped it on the tiny bathroom counter. I looked back at my reflection and immediately orgasmed. I sprayed a load all over the little sink and mirror. I flexed for a few more minutes, totally stunned. I half-heartedly cleaned up the mess, then waddled back to my seat to drink a protein shake.

 

—

 

My flight had been delayed, and I got to our dorm quite late -- almost 2am. Everyone on campus was asleep.

 

I stood outside our door. New year, same little cinder-block dorm room. We had pulled some strings to stay paired together another year. 

 

My heart pounded. I was completely hard. Just imagine what Frank will think when he sees me. Even as I reached for the door handle, the enlarged size of my veiny forearm caught my eye. A warm feeling surged through my cock.

 

The room was pitch black. 

 

I heard Frank’s typical snoring and closed the door quietly, trying not to wake him. 

 

The scent of sweat and muscle and cum was overpowering, like a smack in the face. It conjured the countless fuckfests we'd had in the room over the past year. My dick throbbed with pleasure and anticipation. I even started moaning out loud, that's how horned up I felt.

 

My eyes adjusted to the darkness. I realized the mattress was on the floor for some reason, no bed frame -- and the huge, dark mound on the mattress must be Frank. 

 

I set my bag down, then peeled off my clothes silently. 

 

Now I was completely naked. 

 

My dick was pulsating from Frank's pheromones and my months of waiting. I tiptoed towards the mattress in the center of the room, stepping on jock-straps, cum-stained bodybuilding mags, empty vials of tren...

 

Same loud snores. Frank could sleep through anything.

 

I climbed into bed with him. I got under the covers. I nestled next to him, so I was big spoon.

 

Frank's naked body felt molten hot as I ran my fingers through his fur. Impossible to describe his scent.

 

Even in the darkness, just tactilely, I could tell something was different. This was Frank, but this wasn't Frank's same body. For example, I cupped one of his shoulders with both of my hands, yet even two hands couldn't encompass his delt -- that's how enormous he was. Cuddling him from behind, I couldn't even reach around his lats; he was too wide. My fingers grew more restless as I realized he was far, far larger than the last time I saw him. In disbelief, I groped his sleeping muscles, squeezed his neck, caressed his beard, the stubble on the back of his head...

 

Frank snorted loudly and flipped onto his back, almost crushing me in the process. But he didn't wake up.

 

Frank started to talk in his sleep. "Fuck...Muscle bro...Fuckin' huge...Muscle...Freak...Musc..." he muttered. Then he resumed snoring even louder.

 

Now I could feel his pecs. I delicately kneaded them, toyed with his sensitive nipples. ("Unnh!" Frank cried unconsciously.) Yes, they were much bigger too. Hard to tell how much bigger in the dark. 

 

I was in a silent frenzy. I could have cum right then and there. Yet I decided to reach down further. I felt it. Frank's 10.5" cock, as hot and hard as I had dreamed of it. I tasted some of the pre-cum that dribbled out.

 

I had to do it. I had to ride him. I very quietly stood up, stripped the blanket off of his body. 

 

I squatted over Frank's cock and guided it into my massive bubble butt. I just used a bit of spit for lube. Even in his dreams, Frank was leaking so much pre that I didn't need much else. 

 

All the training I had subjected myself to that summer was leading here. 

 

Frank was still asleep as he entered me. I cried out in pain. Then the pain subsided and pleasure rushed over me like nothing I'd ever felt before. I slowly thrust up and down, taking more and more, until he was inside me up the hilt. I was legit crying tears of joy as Frank unwittingly tore through my ass -- feeling like the type of huge muscle bottom I'd always fantasized about. I started thrusting my ass faster and faster as I rode him.

 

Then suddenly a change came over Frank. He didn't wake up, but some kind of animal spirit inside of him did. His super-strong hands clasped my waist, and suddenly he was thrusting harder and harder. Pounding me. 

 

"AHHHHH!" I screamed, unable to stay quiet any longer. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I roared with each thrust. The feeling was so intense, I was about to pass out.

 

Then Frank truly woke up. 

"WHAT THE -- what the FUCK?" he yelled out in confusion as I rode his cock in the darkness. I must have looked like a huge dark shape bouncing up and down on his boner.

 

"AH! AH! AH AH!" I moaned, incapable of even forming words. I was starting to black out, the room was receding, but I couldn't stop riding Frank. It felt too incredible.

 

Then Frank groped for a lamp near the bed. He clicked it on. 

 

A blinding light filled the room. I realized why the mattress was on the floor. The wooden bed frame had evidently buckled -- its wreckage was piled in the corner of the dorm room.

 

I looked down at Frank, he looked up at me. 

 

We saw each other for the first time in three months. All while 10.5 inches of him were inside me.

 

I'll cut to the chase. 

 

Frank was 470 pounds. He had gained 40 pounds of mass that summer. His arms had grown to 26 inches. His furry pecs were so enormous that from my angle, riding him, they actually hid most of his face. His cheeks were fuller and his face was broader from all the gear, yet he was as handsome as ever, even with a stunned look in his eyes.

 

Then you have to imagine Frank's POV, bright light suddenly on, looking up and seeing his roommate, now a 265-pound gorilla, riding his cock for the first time ever, pectorals and hard cock flopping up and down.

 

"J--James?"

 

"FRANK!"

 

(In unison) "OH MY GOD! UNNNNNNNH!!!!"

 

As his load GUSHED into my hole, mine exploded all over his mega-pecs and his beautiful face. The biggest load I'd ever produced. His face was completely coated, like a mask. We both came and came and came and came and came. 

 

Our muscles were shuddering and quivering post-orgasm. The harsh light of the bedside lamp made our bodies look all the more freakish and unreal. Two absolute monsters, roid pigs, 19 years old, 735 pounds of muscle between us. Frank's sensitive cock was still deep inside me, gushing warm sperm deeper and deeper. We locked eyes. Underneath a veil of cum, I could tell Frank was smiling devilishly. 

 

That was how our sophomore year began.

[boardman]

Hot as hell

[arpeejay]

DeeLishUS!! 

[GaryD]

When you are about to fly home, but your tshirt is a bit undersized…
(James' physical appearance is not very specific, so those are default faces and haircuts from Bing AI)

Thanks @countmuscle for another great chapter
I hope you will appreciate those AI fan arts of James.

[londonboy]

Suddenly I want to go back to college. 

[Jtchef2]

3 hours ago, londonboy said:

Suddenly I want to go back to college. 

So do I

[Freak88]

Fuck! That chapter was so good. I can’t wait for the next .

[Ro20316]

they both got a HUGE surprise.

I love this

[Ozymandias]

Kinda want James to become immobile…

[GaryD]

When you are about to surprise your roommate after a summer of dedication and hard work, pursuing athletic goals.

I guess I had to transform the college tshirt from the first flight into the mentioned tank top to show how much James would have changed over the summer…