Transform: The athletic supporter

by Also Known As   

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Tom Henderson worked from home. He liked working from home. It gave him time to do anything he wanted to, in addition to his assignments, and he never had to keep a look over his shoulder to see who might be spying on what was on his computer monitor, which usually involved copious amounts of male nudity.

He wasn’t in the closet, though he might as well have been. In the small town where he lived, there was no gay bar, there was no gay pride parade, and there was no gay ghetto of happy gay families with their adopted Chinese girls strolling the sidewalks like everyone else.

He was just plain old gay. He didn’t want to serve in the military, he didn’t want to get married, he enjoyed the illegal whiff of doing something wrong when he downloaded pictures of handsome men fucking each other, or fired up the DVD all alone in his living room and watched some anonymous twink stud and some anonymous bear daddy having their way with each other. He particularly liked the whole ‘role reversal’ when the bear had to do what the twink wanted—though finding those was getting harder now that every other porn film starred the same pair of shaven athletic clones.

Whatever happened to good, old fashioned men? Where did all the lovely body hair disappear to? Where was the big, muscular, brawny dude, nowadays? What about all the great construction site fantasies and mechanics in half-zipped jumpsuits and dudes with big mustaches and aviator glasses chomping cigars as they mouthed obscenities?

So Tom stayed at home, making himself a nightly gin and tonic, entertaining himself while he awaited the next Amazon shipment so he could have some flirty notions about the UPS guy.

That was often the only reason his doorbell rang. No one really came to visit. No one even rang him on the phone anymore, thanks to email and instant messaging and Skype and Twitter. If someone wanted something from him, they could ask in a moment and get a reply just as quickly. He could send fixes to software up to the server and still keep an eye on the download from Naked Sword in the corner of his screen.

So when the doorbell rang that Wednesday afternoon, he was out of his Eames Aluminum Group manager’s chair ($1200 on eBay—a steal!) and headed for the front door, fully expecting his handsome, if slightly out of shape, UPS guy Jesus to greet him with the usual “Hey, Tom! What’s up?”

But when he opened the door, he was confronted with something altogether different.

“Hello, sir, my name is Greg and I am a student at West Valley High School. May I interest you in a magazine subscription?”

Tom could think of nothing at all in reply, because the voice was coming out of a mouth attached to a face mounted on the body of one of his wettest wet dreams. He had to look up to meet the young man’s gaze, and when he found it, a chill ran through his body and his mouth went dry and he found that pulling breath into his lungs was suddenly very difficult.

A sudden and intense sexual heat washed over Tom’s entire body. A palpable sense of masculinity and power was pouring off the young man standing before him. It seemed almost physical in form, as if there was some kind of nozzle attached to him and it was spraying Tom with an enhanced or greatly intensified form of male sexuality.

The young man standing on his doorstep smiled. It made dimples appear in his cheeks and creased his chiseled jaw with aching male beauty. His dense eyebrows, thick as caterpillars but finely drawn, rose up on his heavy brow, and his perfect white teeth shone like pearls. He had blue-green eyes with flecks of gold in them, and a closely shorn crown of jet black hair buzz-cut across his scalp. The hint of a beard was casting a shadow along his squared jaw and surrounded his full, beautiful lips.

“What?” Tom managed to say.

“Magazines?” Something fluttered in front of Tom, something in the young man’s hand. A pamphlet, glossy and colorful, and then it fell away and in its place was a body of such incredible muscular development, housed tightly in a pink Polo shirt severely tucked into a pair of navy blue jeans that defined the phrase “painted on.” The young man’s body—every fucking inch of it—was packed beyond capacity with thick, bulging, perfectly developed brawn.

“Magazines.”

“Yes, sir. I’m offering you some magazine subscriptions to help support the West Valley wrestling team.” His voice was absurdly deep, and seemed to emphasize that sense of heavy sexuality pouring from him.

“Wrestling team.”

“Yes, sir. Um, today’s… no, wait… Schools today are facing drastic budget cuts. With your help, West Valley can continue to offer athletic and arts… artistic programs like wrestling and music so that kids like me can stay off the streets.”

“Kids. Like you.”

The handsome head tilted sideways, and the sparkling sea-colored eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah. Um, are you okay, sir?”

Tom looked up. The voice was deep and resonant. Powerful and warm. It licked his libido and make his balls quiver. His cock was beating a steady throb in his underwear. His balls and asshole tingled. Stars were forming at the edge of his vision. “Okay?”

“You look kinda… weird.”

“Weird?” It smelled like sex. He wanted to cum.

“Like… sick or something.”

“I feel—”

That was when everything went black.

When Tom opened his eyes again, he was laying on his couch in his living room, and he could hear the noises of cabinets opening and closing and the faucet running in his kitchen. Then the sound of movement, the creaking of floor boards, and the smell of something—no, not something… someone—that reminded him decidedly of sex.

“Whoa, dude, you scared the shi… the heck out of me!”

Tom looked over and saw the majestic and powerful dream of perfect masculine muscle coming toward him, carrying a glass of water. From this low angle, the young man—what was his name again? Craig? Glen? The young man looked even bigger. Lats spread out from his back like wings. The muscles of his arms bulged so large that they seemed to be ripping his sleeves apart. His neck was as large as his head. The muscles of his thighs popped outward like sausages wrapped too tightly in their casings, and something bulged at the exact center of all that muscle that was both too large and too wonderful to be believed.

Maybe he was still unconscious. Maybe this was a dream, after all. Because no one looked like that, really. No one was that powerful and that beautiful, and they certainly weren’t going to be found in his apartment.

The young man—Greg! Greg dropped to his knees on the floor next to the couch and offered Tom a tall, cool glass of water. A sudden rich scent, like leather and sweat and the heady, delicious tang of balls and ass, surrounded Tom and sank into his senses. His cock pulsed and throbbed at the sensation. “What… What happened?”

“You fainted dude.” Greg snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Had to catch you or you woulda cracked your noggin on the doorframe. Then I carried you in here and… stuff. You weren’t out for very long. Hope you don’t mind me rummaging around your kitchen, dude.”

“Who are you?”

Greg smiled again. It was a thing of cock-hardening beauty. “Greg. From West Valley? The magazines?” He hiked his thumb over his massive shoulder at a large duffle bag. It sagged in the corner, obviously filled with something, and a couple of the colorful, glossy pamphlets lay on the carpet nearby. “Why’d you faint, dude?”

“Tom.”

“Huh?”

“My name’s Tom.” Greg shrugged, and it made him look a bit less like a muscle god and more like a high school wrestler. He knew why. It was the young man on his knees that did it. Or, to be precise, it was whatever that heavy sexual power was that he was giving off. Tom could still sense it, but now it seemed dimmed. But it was definitely there, whatever it was. Sex. Hard, deep, penetrating, manly sex. And it was pouring off Greg like hot water that bathed Tom in its gorgeous power. But he said, “I don’t know why. Sorry to scare you.”

“No worries, du… Tom. Just surprised me is all.” There was an awkward silence as the two men looked at each other. Though it didn’t occur to Tom to notice, Greg was checking out his body with the same amount of interest that Tom was checking out Greg’s. “Nice place,” he said slowly.

“What?”

Tom stood up. The muscles of his legs bulged out fiercely, blooming with power. “Nice place,” he repeated. “You’re one neat dude.”

“Neat?” The term sounded colloquial, as if the musclebound teen had just said how groovy Tom’s record collection was.

“Yeah, neat. Tidy. Everything’s so….” The young man shrugged his huge shoulders and looked down at Tom on the couch, twisting his mouth slightly as he looked for another word, then simply repeated, “Neat.”

“Oh,” Tom replied. “Thanks? I guess?”

“No offense, dude! I mean, I live in a shithole compared to this! And that TV is massive!” Tom followed Greg’s gaze toward his 50” Panasonic plasma. Given the size of his living room, massive just about described it. “I bet Xbox looks killer on that thing.”

Tom looked at Greg and followed his gaze toward the black Xbox 360 Elite standing at attention next to his Denon receiver. A set of small speakers lined the room for perfect surround balance, and a large, shiny black subwoofer sat in the corner. “It does,” he admitted, sitting up cautiously. Greg was looking at his TV so Tom took the opportunity to look at Greg. He was just freaking amazing! Muscle everywhere, and so much of it! The kid was broad and tall and handsome and overwhelmed with brawn. Tom allowed his gaze to drift south on the immense body, lingering along the tight belly and wondering, idly, what was under the shirt. It was obvious that the kid had an enormous chest, and look how his nipple stuck out! Jesus, the kid was stacked! The material of the Polo hid the contours of his stomach from view, but there was the definite suggestion of a formidable six-pack at play under there.

Then he continued south and, from this angle, with Greg’s body turned slightly sideways, he couldn’t help noticing the pronounced bulge at the crotch of his dark jeans. Something was sticking forward a couple of inches, and it wound along the thigh and dangled dangerously close to knee-length. Something huge and firm and decidedly dick-shaped. When he managed to tear his eyes away from the display of masculine perfection and looked back toward Greg’s face, the young man was still staring at the TV and the game console. So he asked, “You play?”

Greg turned back, an evident look of pride on his handsome features. “I used to. A lot! You’re looking at the Halo 3 frag champ of West Valley high!” He licked his lips, grinning with an attractive innocence. “PS3, too?”

“And Wii.”

“Wii’s for pussies,” he said, then looked over with a worried look on his face. “No offense.”

Tom half-laughed and shrugged. “It kind of is, but I like the sports games. Why, ‘used to’?”

“Huh?”

“You said you ‘used to’ play. You don’t anymore?”

Greg shook his shaggy head. He had an unkempt main of light brown, soft-looking curls that arranged themselves into a kind of waterfall on his head. “Yeah, me and my friends do… other stuff… with each other… now. Besides, I have to sell these stupid magazines.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?”

Greg looked over. He was impossibly handsome. He was impossibly well-built. He had an impossibly large bulge pushing forward with impossible urgency between his impossibly muscular thighs. “Some dumb thing I gotta do if I want to stay on the team.”

“The wrestling team?”

“Yeah. Varsity.” His chest inflated with pride, again. The shirt’s placate of three white buttons was having a hard time staying attached, and the popped collar curled under the onslaught of his thickly muscled neck.

“You look like you would be very hard to beat,” Tom said, trying to contain his excitement at the prospect of this man dressed in a skintight wrestling outfit.

“I’m in the super massive heavyweight division. There are a ton of guys better than me.”

“Super massive heavyweight?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” It was, but if it wasn’t, yet, Greg lifted his arms and tensed his collection of brawn into bulging relief. Muscle exploded everywhere, as if—even as huge as he was—there were reserves of bulging power packed inside everything that was already there. His chest swelled outward, pulling the hem of his shirt from his jeans. His biceps hardened to arching balls of power that got so huge it caused his skin to grow shiny as it stretched. Slight tearing sounds accompanied his sudden display of raw power, and he relaxed as quickly as he had suddenly swollen into heart-stopping dimensions of muscular development, a grin lighting his face with obvious and understandable pride. “‘Cause of Muscle Club. And…. the other thing.”

What the hell was Muscle Club? Were there more like him at school? Was someone passing out some serious steroids and growth hormone? “The other thing?”

Tom nodded, losing his smile for a moment. “With Jason.” Then the gleam was in his gaze and the grin wound across his full lips again, and he said hopefully, “Think I could play with it?”

“With what?”

Greg’s brow furrowed. Then he laughed suddenly. “The Xbox, dude. Not…”

“Sure, if you want to. Fire it up.” Greg’s smile lit his face and he practically dove at the Xbox, grabbing the controller in his large hand and pushing the X with his thumb to start the console. Tom turned on the amp and flat screen with the universal remote and the familiar chang and whoosh of the Xbox start-up screen filled the small room.

“Wow, cool!” Greg flopped his perfect ass onto the couch, which groaned and cracked in protest, and was flipping through the menu with practiced ease. Then he saw Tom’s Xbox gamer tag and laughed. “Ga Yass?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Greg looked over with a grin on his handsome lips. “Gay ass?”

Tom shrugged. “It’s just a joke.”

Greg’s gaze scanned Tom’s body again, and his eyebrows wiggled. “You must take plenty of shit for that—I thought they banned gamer names with gay in them?”

“I don’t really play online too much.”

“Why not?”

“I find the environment… kind of… juvenile.”

“It’s fucking lame, is what it is. All those little pissant dudes trash talking and shit.” The handsome wrestler seemed to realize what he’s just said, and he apologized. “Sorry, dude. I gotta a foul mouth on me sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it, Greg.”

“You… you wanna play with me? Gayass?” Greg laughed. “That is righteous, dude. Gayass! So fucking cool.”

“I have some work to do,” he reported truthfully, but the answer caused Greg’s animated face to drop, and his whole enormous body seemed to shrink. He rose again to his feet.

“Oh, fuck dude, I’m sorry! Shit! I wasn’t even… I should go, Tom. You probably don’t feel well and you gotta work and here am I all focused on me having some fun, as usual. Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“It’s all right.”

“Jeez, I’m such a dumb ass! I’m so fucking clueless!” Greg set the controller down and started toward the duffle bag, apologizing the whole way. “Sorry, dude! Sorry! I’ll go and just let you get back to your stuff.”

Tom’s heart started beating fast. If the view from the front was nirvana, the view from Greg’s back was paradise. Muscle swarmed across the entire expanse of the widest back Tom had ever seen, and the high school wrestler’s ass was something from another world. Even in the tight jeans—or perhaps, because of them—he had the most amazing and erection-inducing set of glutes on the planet. Tom said, quietly, “What’s in the bag?”

“Huh?” Greg’s attention was elsewhere. He was holding his bag’s handle as he turned back around, one hand already on the doorknob.

“The bag?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He held it up and shook it slightly. “Just a bunch of gym stuff. Started door knocking right after practice. Coach gave us all the pep talk about ‘don’t loose this opportunity’ and shit.” Greg dropped his already deep voice another octave to mimic his coach, and the result made chills creep up Tom’s spine.

“Like your singlet and… stuff?”

Greg nodded. “Yeah. Wrestling togs, shoes… jock. Just the usual stuff.” Tom gulped audibly. “You okay? You’re not gonna faint again, are you?”

“No. Well, probably not.”

Greg stood at the door, with his hand on the knob, looking all kinds of sexy and powerful and somehow vulnerable. He seemed to be considering something, and his eyes were searching Tom’s body, finally falling to rest on his crotch. When he lifted his gaze to meet Tom’s, he said, “Was there a question you wanted to ask me?”

“A question?”

“Or, like, a favor?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Greg smiled brightly. “Oh. Okay.” He began turning the knob slowly.

“You can play the game,” Tom said quickly, “if you want to.”

“The game.” Greg echoed.

“Sure,” Tom replied. “You won’t bother me.” Except for the fantasies I’m going to be having about you from now on, he thought silently. “I work in the other room.”

“Oh,” Greg answered, smiling. “That game.” He seemed to be still considering something as he stood there. Was his arm getting bigger? It looked like the bicep was swelling, or maybe the tricep. It was an odd sensation, and made Tom doubt his sense for a moment. “You sure I don’t distract you, Tom?”

“You wouldn’t be bothering me.”

“No, I mean.. I meant, are you sure you aren’t… distracted?” He took his hand slowly from the doorknob, standing tall and broad, dominating the room with his very presence. From somewhere, a wave of his musky scent washed over Tom, as if he had sprayed the room with it. A wash of his deeply sexy funk seemed to coat Tom’s skin in warmth and wetness. He raised his hand to his head and brushed at the thick waves of soft curls. His bicep swelled huge and fat, and there was a single, thick vein crowning the muscle. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom, Tom?”

“Not at all,” he responded quietly. “It’s down the hall, first door on the right.”

“Cool.” Greg stepped across the room with his bag in hand, then he winked at Tom and strode toward the bathroom, swinging the bag at his side and whistling lightly.

The sounds of war and music bounced off the walls. The game’s opening cutscene played on the bright plasma screen. Tom sat nearly motionless, almost afraid that anything he said or did at this point was going to break the spell or awake him from this dream.

The bathroom door opened, and Tom looked toward the sound.

Greg stood at the end of the hallway, his body nearly in silhouette. Tom’s eyes went wide, and his breath caught in his throat. His mouth went dry and his dick went hard.

Greg was now wearing his wrestling singlet, a skintight red lycra outfit with a low scoop in front and three white stripes running up either side, starting at his armpits and extending to his thickly muscular thighs. The athletic uniform did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that Greg had the most beautiful, most muscular, most masculine body that Tom had ever seen.

What it also did, however, was reveal that Greg owned a very furry chest, and that the fur extended up nearly to his neck. His legs were also extremely hairy, with heavy dark fur extending down each thickly muscled thigh.

And there, again, at the center of his magnificent form, was a pubic bulge of such vast and amazing proportions that the lad had to own a foot-long salami that was being kept caged within the luckiest jockstrap in the world.

It was as if Greg had read Tom’s mind, and indeed he did feel slightly woozy all over again.

Greg walked toward him slowly, tossing the bag aside and moving with an ungainly grace, his thighs rotating around each other and pushing his crotch forward. Tom could see all Greg’s muscles move as he walked, watch them flex and bulge and stretch and pull. Massive, finely detailed cables of raw brawn lined his limbs. Fat, hard, thick bands of muscle bulged from his chest. A six-pack of heavy abs pressed against his singlet, stretching, flexing and bulging as he walked.

Then he stood there, right in front of Tom, with his heavy bulging crotch at Tom’s face, and said, “Now, about those magazine subscriptions…”

With his gaze centered on the obvious outline of a huge, fat snake pressing intently against Greg’s singlet, Tom said, “I’ll take a dozen.”

Greg laughed low and loud. “Oh, bro, I’m just fucking with you.”

“I wish you would,” Tom replied under his breath.

“Huh?” He asked it with a sly smile and one eyebrow arched.

“You want to play?” Tom asked, shifting his gaze to the awaiting video game on the screen.

Greg’s smile stretched across his lips and the other eyebrow arched. “Now, that’s a loaded question.” Greg reached down to the copious wealth of meat held in his basket and adjusted himself meaningfully. “Do you wanna play with me, Tom?”

“Uh—”

“‘Cause I’ll play with you,” he added, lowering his voice to a growl. “If you want to play with me.”

Tom swallowed hard.

“Do you like to play hard, Tom?” Greg began to massage the thick bulge. “You like it rough and fast. Pushing in there with guns blazing, shoving through the line to get to your target, then just firing away with everything you’ve got?” he leaned forwradm planting his hands on the back of the couch, surrounding Tom with his arms. “Or maybe you like to take things easy, at first, kind of ease your way in before really going to town?” He licked his lips. He moved in closer still. His scent was intense. His heat was palpable. He spoke in low, deep, soft tones. “Me, I kinda like it both ways. It totally depends on who I’m playing with.” Their faces were very close. Their lips almost touching. “I like to take my cues from you, and I can either be rough and ready, or smooth as silk.”

“How… how old are you, Greg?”

He bit his lower lip and smiled. “How old do you want me to be?”

“No, I mean… you know what I mean.” Tom was having a hard time breathing. Every inhale sucked in more of Greg’s powerfully seductive smell.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Are you eighteen?”

He bit his lower lip. “What if I was?”

Tom leaned back, pulling himself away from the scent and heat and the handsome, masculine face before him. “But you’re not, are you?”

Greg moved back, pulling his arms from around Tom’s body while placing his knee on the couch next to Tom’s leg. It caused his crotch to move perilously close to Tom’s face. “I’m kinda uncomfortable in this thing, all the sudden, bro. Do you mind if I take it off?”

“Take… take it off?”

Greg raised his arms and slid the straps off his shoulders. “Yeah, dude, something in this room is getting me really hot.” Tom watched Greg’s biceps bulge into fat balls as he moved the straps off and began to peel himself free of the iridescent red material. “You’re looking a little hot, too, bro.” He pushed the singlet over the thick muscular mounds of his pecs. Then peeled it down his torso, revealing the amazing collection of brawn under his silky, furry skin. “Maybe you want to take your shirt off, or something.”

“I—”

Greg reached forward. “Here, lemme get that off for you. wouldn’t want you fainting on me again.”

The young man’s strong hands were warm. His touch was surprisingly deft. Tom’s dick was starting to seriously plump and throb as he looked up at the handsome wrestler’s face, and his collection of perfectly developed brawn, all of it flexing and moving as he unbuttoned Tom’s shirt and then lay his palms against Tom’s chest. Greg closed his eyes and Tom’s gaze was drawn to movement at Greg’s crotch. He could visibly see the teenaged god’s prick growing fatter and longer.

“Yeah,” Greg moaned. “That feels better, don’t it?”

“Yes,” Tom whispered.

Greg moved his other knee onto the couch, pinning Tom between his thick and powerful legs. He slipped the shirt off Tom’s shoulders, leaning in closely, giving Tom a heavy whiff of his intensely erotic stink. Their faces came very close—close enough to kiss, Tom realized—and then Greg backed away and was looking down at Tom’s naked torso, his eyes scanning every inch like a man examining a prized steer. “Fuck dude,” he said at last, “I didn’t expect this.”

“What?”

“You have a fucking nice body, Tom.”

“I… I work out.”

“Fuckin’ A, bro. NIce pecs and—” He reached his fingers toward Tom’s chest, grabbing his nipple between his fingers and pinching and rolling the fat nub. “Nice nips.” Their eyes met. Greg grinned. “I fucking love a nice pair of nips, dude.”

He began to illustrate his admiration for a nice pair of nipples by playing with both of Tom’s, twisting and flicking and rubbing them between his meaty fingers. Then he leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, between his teeth, and gently nibbled on one of Tom’s admittedly ample and impressive nipples.

Perhaps he had no way of knowing it, but Tom loved having his nipples teased almost as much as Greg loved teasing them. Tom’s cock began to surge in his pants, pushing hard and uncomfortably against his fly, growing fatter and longer by the inch. Greg’s own monster was certainly not hiding his interest either. The muscle teen’s hard prick was shoving sideways and pouring off heat like it was on fire. The sensation of Greg’s mouth on his nipple and Greg’s burgeoning hard-on pushing into his thigh drove Tom batshit until he literally could stand no more and tried to physically push Greg’s mouth off his tortured nipple.

He placed his hands on Greg’s wide, massive mountain range of shoulders and was instantly shocked at the hardness of the high schooler’s muscles. The man was build out of granite or solid steel. His body was warm, and his skin was silken and soft, but beneath that was a set of bulging brawn forged in some cauldron and made of rock. The young man seemed not even to notice that Tom was doing anything, so intent was he on sucking Tom’s fat nipple, until Tom said, “Greg, please, stop!” and the young man pulled his mouth off the nipple, scrubbing the spit from his lips with the back of his hand with a happy smile.

Greg looked down at Tom’s tented crotch and moved his huge paw onto the throbbing meat and squeezed firmly. “Looks like someone’s awake,” he said. “Are you ready to play with me, now, Tom?”

“Greg, I—”

“I’m eighteen years old, Tom, swear to God.”

“But—”

“Fuck, bro, you had me when you opened the door,” he growled. “Do you know what it’s like? Being in Muscle Club? I’m horny all the fucking time, bro. All the fucking time. And after a wrestling session? Getting that close with another dude? Feeling him crawling all over me, feeling his muscles against mine, him trying to overpower me and me doing the same to him? Then we have to, like, pretend? It didn’t get us so fucking hard we could both fuck a hole in a cement wall? Dude, you had me when you opened the door.”

“I—”

“You’ve got me all ready to go! You think you’re hard, dude? Check this out!”

Greg climbed off Tom and it was clear that he wasn’t joking, His cock was stretching itself as Tom watched. The head inched out along Greg’s hip like a sausage filling its casing. The head was clearly evident and growing too, and it was leaving a dark trail in its wake as it weeped precum. “Fuck bro, if we don’t get it on soon, I’m gonna have to stroke this thing to relieve the fucking pressure.” He moved his hand along the inches of his prick beneath his wrestling singlet. “Jesus, Tom, you got me so fucking hard. Jesus, it fucking hurts!”

Greg put his hands to his singlet and stripped it off his body, the stretchy material moving off his ass and legs with some effort until he stood, now, in Tom’s living room wearing only a jockstrap with a very stretched-out basket. The material was becoming transparent as it stretched to accommodate his still-growing cock, which moved forward now, no longer trapped within the singlet, pulling the basket with it and barely containing the high schooler’s heavy, sweaty ball sack.

It was inhuman—or superhuman! The young man’s cock has to be a foot long already, and it was still growing! Greg was watching his own thick dick as it extended out from his muscular body and pointed at Tom, sitting on the couch with his own hard-on caged inside his jeans. The tip of the jockstrap’s basket was sodden and dark with Greg’s spillage of precum, and a heavy, honeyed droplet was forming and swelling. “You’re doing this to me, Tom,” he said, grinning. “Fuck dude, I never been this hard before.”

“You’re huge.”

“Yeah, dude. Fuck, yeah.”

“But….”

Greg grabbed his impressive appendage and squeezed himself so hard, veins popped on his forearm. “Fuck, I’m hard! I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard before.” He squeezed and the head of his bicep split. Every muscle lining his arm was clearly defined and bulging. “Fuck, bro, I’m hard as a rock!”

“But….”

Greg finally looked up, and saw the look on Tom’s face. “Oh, dude, don’t worry. When we’re done, this isn’t going to be a problem. In fact, you’ll want the other one, too, and you’ll want me to get as big as I can.”

“What are you talking about?”

Greg smiled. “But you gotta ask.”

“What?”

“Ask me. All you have to do is ask me. I can’t give it to you unless you ask for it. That’s the rule.”

“What rule?”

“Muscle Club rules. I can’t give it to you unless you ask me for it. All you have to do,” he said, taking his grip from his monster cock and turning fully toward Tom, “is ask.”

“Ask what?”

“For this,” he answered, pushing his overwhelming wealth of muscle into relief again. His muscle pushed outward, separating into massive wedges and cables and balls. Veins popped along the masses. His skin was ruddy and shiny. His cock was still growing, pushing harder at its cloth cage and getting visibly longer and fatter every second. “For all of this.”

“For you?”

Greg smiled. Tom nearly creamed his jeans. “I kinda come with the package, but yeah. Me. This.” He moved his hands along his naked muscle. “This cock.” It was ripping free at last, the head dripping clear honey. “This muscle.” He posed, again. A double-bi that would make any world-class bodybuilder weep with jealousy. “Everything. Just ask.”

His body seemed to swell with power. The muscles bulged outward against his silky skin. His chest grew larger, still, and the muscles on his belly began to swell and another pair appeared just below his pecs, turning his six-pack to an eight-pack. His shoulders seemed to be spreading wider, and piling taller with heavy, hard-packed brawn.

Tom’s mouth fell open. “What the fuck?”

Greg was smiling as he slowly grew larger. “Just advertising the goods, dude. Just giving you a taste of what’s in store.” His dick extended even farther. The head bloomed like a rosebud. The shaft thickened and grew red and shiny. The pouch of his jockstrap began to rend as slight tearing sounds accompanied the slow growth of his prick. “Fuck, this feels good,” he said. “Sometimes I forget what being big feels like.”

“But… but you are big.”

“Dude,” he said proudly, “I’m just getting started.”

How was this possible? What was happening? Greg was growing bigger before Tom’s eyes. The muscle of his body was developing beneath his skin. The cables stretched and swelled, the plates of his chest mounded up and out and spilt and grew, the fat balls of power on his arms bulged larger and larger still, fed by some miraculous growth hormone that allowed his body to expand to contain his unending supply of muscular perfection.

He was groaning, now, and sighing. His hands explored his own growing body. His cock was beyond huge, ripping apart the elastic bands and mesh cotton that tried to contain it. Rends appeared in the material of his wrestling singlet. And still he grew, everything grew, and his muscles continued to swell and expand and develop.

Now Greg started to stretch out his arms, and Tom watched muscle form and grow along his limbs. He bent his elbows and seemingly pumped his biceps bigger. He brought his arms in toward is chest and pumped up his pecs, as well, moving his arms in and out like wings, and with every beat his chest would enlarge and extend with brawn.

Stretching his arms wide, he bent back and allowed his abdominals to pop and multiply. A 10-pack? Was that even possible? Did Greg have even more muscles hidden away? He straightened and his abs bulged, and he moved one leg out and planted his feet wide, and suddenly his thighs were exploding with thick cables of power.

Now Tom was struck with a fresh and intense wash of Greg’s sexy and funky scent. It came like a wave of heat and raw sex, and acted like a drug on Tom’s libido.

He was so huge now! Immense! Enormous! And every bit as sexy, beautiful and masculine as he had been, only multiplied by a thousand. “How big—?”

“Really fucking big,” Greg answered. “And I’m still growing.” He bent his arm repeatedly, watching his own bicep pump larger with each bend, grinning with pride and determination. “I don’t get to look like this, normally,” he reported, not taking his eyes off his swelling bicep. “It’s kind of bad to do this in front of you, but I kinda got the impression—” He turned his handsome head toward Tom, and bent his arm, and tensed the muscle to make his bicep explode with awesome power. “….That you like it.”

“Holy fuck.”

Greg smiled. “Then you do like it? Yeah, I thought so. When you opened the door, I definitely got a whiff of a man who likes muscle.” He straightened, now, and his head nearly brushed the 9-foot ceiling. “Then when you fainted dead away like that, and I wasn’t even at full power yet, I kinda knew.” His cock had long since grown out of the jockstrap—ripped its way free and was now arching up proudly, thick as Tom’s forearm with a mushroom capped head a big as his fist. The eye was drooling a steady stream of clear honey that dripped along its gleaming, red shaft and gathered amongst the heavy curling forest of dark fur that coated his fat ball sack. The smell coming off his body now could not be denied. It was strong and fierce and thick, a fog of sexual power that filled the living room.

Tom looked up at this being, this deity, this teen titan of muscle and cock and fur and masculine power standing before him. His own cock was tenting his jeans and a dark spot was staining the fly. His shirtless torso was gleaming with sweat and his breath was short and hard. He was achingly attracted to this gigantic behemoth, this naked god, this wet dream standing before him.

“You still haven’t asked me,” Greg said with his powerful, deep voice. He looked down at his collection of raw, bulging brawn, his huge erection, his incredible and immense body, and then he smiled, and then he looked at Tom again, and then he asked, “Do you want this?”

“I—”

“I’ll make you an offer, Tom.” His voice was strong and deep. He turned around slowly, showcasing the wide taper of his broad back, the huge bulges of power swelling from every inch, and the two meaty globes of his incredible bubble butt. “You can fuck me,” he said, “and then afterwards, you can decide.”

“Fuck—”

Greg began to bend forward, pushing his muscular ass into Tom’s face. “Yeah, dude. Fuck me, and then decide.” His scent grew stronger as he opened himself to Tom. The massive muscles of his glutes stretched and spread and his tight, pink, rosy hole appeared. Greg grabbed one cheek in his grip and pulled it away, stretching his hole open. “You want to eat me out first? I’m okay with that, too.”

“Greg—”

The young man’s handsome face appeared as he looked back at the man he wanted to fuck his ass. He had a smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes. He licked his lips and gazed down toward Tom’s crotch, and the huge tent erected there. “Jesus, dude, you better fucking do something with that thing or it’s gonna rip its way out all by itself!”

“I—”

“You want me to help you?” He straightened again, and turned around. His magnificent throbbing cock appeared like a heavy branch extending from its tree, drooling a silver thread of pre, and he sank to his knees and set his fingers to Tom’s belt buckle. “No problem at all, sir,” he said softly. “I’m kinda anxious to see what you’re hiding, to be honest.” He pulled the belt open with a jangling silvery sound, and rubbed his palm over the tip of Tom’s cock as it shoved forcefully against his jeans. “Fuck, you’re hot! Feels like you’re as hard as I am, bro!”

Greg started to unbutton Tom’s pants and unzip his fly. Tom just watched, enjoying the other man’s deft manipulation of his pants and wondering what Greg’s reaction would be to seeing his hard-on. It was a relief to have his pants pulled open, and there was the stark white cotton of his underwear, the material darkened where it clung to the helmet of his erection.

Greg leaned down and kissed Tom’s cock with worshipful tenderness. It was still hidden behind his tighty whites, and its length was pulling the Y-front open. He breathed a warm sigh against Tom’s prick and Tom sighed in return, closing his eyes from sheer ecstasy. Grinning like a schoolboy in front of his candy jar, Greg grabbed hold of the hard-on before him and put his mouth over the knob, licking and sucking against the hot, hard meat under the spit- and cum-soaked cotton. He moaned deeply, sending shivers through Tom’s body.

Then he looked up at Tom’s face and said, “Okay, bro, let’s unwrap my present.”

Setting his fingers to the Y-front, Greg ripped Tom’s shorts open and his hard, hot, slick erection sprang up, proud and stiff. The head glistened with spit and precum and the shaft was covered with popping veins, like tributaries on a relief map. Greg was breathing deeply, almost mesmerized by Tom’s 8-inch cock, and he smiled and said, “Damn, bro! You should’ve told me you were hung! I’d have pounced on this when I walked in the fucking door!”

Greg plunged his mouth over Tom’s hard-on and swallowed him whole, worshiping Tom’s meat with luxurious sucking sounds. He grabbed onto the base of the shaft and wound his tongue around the cock, then pushed his mouth over it again in a near-frenzy.

Tom’s toes curled and his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he lot out a feral groan of pleasure as Greg sucked, licked, kissed, stroked and deep-throated his cock with obvious delight and sexual hunger.

Already, Tom could feel an earth-shaking orgasm building from his balls and tingling its way up his prick. “Who… wai… wait. Wait a sec—”

Greg wasn’t listening.

“Greg. I… I’m gonna—”

Slurp. Suck. Lick. Slurp. Gobble. Swallow. Slurp.

“…gonna cum—”

Greg smiled and continued sucking and slurping.

Tom’s pleasure mounted. Higher and higher. Shocks of pure sexual bliss erupted downward from Greg’s mouth and shook his body and soul.

“” ah, fuck….”

Higher and higher. His cock felt like it was going to explode with cum.

“—so close—”

Greg grabbed on to his cock and pushed his face all the way down, pulling his entire hard-on inside his mouth and a sudden, hard, intense burst of pure sexual ecstasy detonated like an atomic bomb.

Tom bit his lip hard and felt his balls tingle and his cock swell.

Greg continued sucking his prick.

Tom’s body began to grow hotter. He felt his belly and his chest and his arms and his legs suddenly erupt with fire.

“…Greg, please—”

Greg’s hand was on his belly. It was warm, soft. Heat came from it. Heat was pouring off his hand, pouring into his own body, filling him up inside.

“Something—”

The young man sucked his cock with eager and hungry urgency. Heat was pouring off his hand and entering his body. Heat and something else. Heat and—

“…feels like—”

He could feel it. Like an animal growing inside him. Power and muscle and strength. Building bigger and bigger.

“…power!”

It was happening. There was no doubt. Unless all of Tom’s senses were now lying to him, he could see the changes occurring on his body, and feel them happening, and hear his clothing tearing itself open as his muscles grew in size and strength. Greg’s scent, so masculine and delicious, also became stronger and more distinct to Tom.

He looked down at Greg, still sucking with contentment, determination and hunger on his throbbing rod, and watched his belly changing beneath Greg’s warm hand. The flesh thinned and shimmered as it spread over and suctioned down on a suddenly developing six-pack of hard muscle. The buttons of his shirt began to strain and then pop apart as his chest rose higher and spread wider, filling in with evident swollen globes of power. He could see bands of muscle spread and multiply as a deep crevasse built between the two massive pectoral shelves. As his chest grew, the thin wisps of hair that has once graced his flat chest was being replaced by a deep, dark, thick forest of curls.

He pulled in a breath and his chest rose but did not sink back, growing thicker and higher with every beat of his heart.

Thick and hearty slurping sounds drew his attention back to the shaggy head bent over his cock. The hair of his pubic bush was also multiplying, and more than that, veins appeared under the skin leading down to his hidden prick, which at this moment felt like it was as hard as steel and threatening to explode with so much cream that he’d blow the back off Greg’s head.

He moaned, for it was the only sound he was capable of making. His body was drenched in sexual bliss. It radiated out from his monster cock and suffused every cell of his swelling form. He looked to his left and watched the bicep on his arm inflating like some meaty balloon, filled up with brawn. Fat veins pulsed and throbbed along the swelling muscle as it grew bigger and fatter. The veins spread and inched down his arm towards his wrist. As they traversed his limb, the muscle just magically developed. Fat cables suddenly appeared and grew larger and larger. He flexed his hand as his fingers lengthened. Like everything else, seemingly, his hand was growing larger.

He closed his eyes to momentarily allow himself to sink into the lavish waves of orgasmic bliss that travelled through his body like shocks of electricity, but he forced his eyes open again to watch what was happening, to try to record every second of his miraculous growth and metamorphosis.

His chest was enormous and coated in a dense carpet of dark fur. The fat, dark nubs of his nipples poked their heads up through the curls and tingled with a deep sensual passion. It was as if his cock and his nipples were directly connected, now, and that sense of pure sexual bliss was radiating from three points and moving out along his arms and legs.

Bigger still. The couch creaked and complained as his weight increased. How big was he now? How much did he weigh? And it was all muscle! Huge, thick, strong, powerful, manly muscle!

Greg’s pleasurable slurping went on and on. Tom could see a few inches of the base of his cock, now. It was slick and gleaming and red. Thick as a beer can and heavily veined. He wanted to cum. He had an explosion building in his balls. He tried to speak but nothing would come but groans of intense pleasure.

He moved his hands to those fat, sensitive nipples and began to twist and pinch and flick at them. Every delicious torture and tease brought sudden, hyper-intense shocks of complete bliss that shook him utterly. He could feel his nipples growing in his fingertips. The plates of his chest continued to expand up and out.

Greg was lost in a world of cocksucking fervor. He was dedicated 100% to the execution of his goal and was only dimly aware that the prick he was so determined to successfully suck was swelling inside his mouth. He’d had larger cocks than this one in there, before—hell, he’d had two of them! And he didn’t know what he was accomplishing merely through his touch and his desire to change this man utterly into another muscular god like himself.

Transform was pouring out of his and into Tom’s body. No longer did the members of Muscle Club have to cum on or in another man to change them. Now they could do it with a touch of flesh against flesh. A kiss, a caress, and brush of a hand against another man’s arm could start the transformation from ordinary human male into super-charged, super-sexed, super-muscular, super-sized god.

Tom could feel his secondary cock start to materialize like a tiny throbbing buzz at his loins. His body was heated up with sex and passion. His single cock was rock hard and ready to gush. The sensation of his new, additional prick was lost within the overwhelming sexual and physical changes taking place all over his growing body.

But Greg noticed, because something small (but growing quickly larger) was poking itself into his chin and neck. Something firm and hot and stalk-like. Something very much like….

His eyes widened. He looked up at the tremendous muscular form splayed out across the couch. He nearly bit down on Tom’s prick in shock and surprise, and sat up slowly, one hand still gripping the root of Tom’s existing and massive cock, still lengthening and swelling in his hand, and the other resting against Tom’s ripped abdominal wall, swelling with power. He looked down and watched with fascination and a bit of fear as his lover’s second cock sprouted with alarming speed.

“Oh, fuck,” he said quietly.

The head was blooming like a rosebud and extending quickly on its stalk. The shaft swelled as it lengthened, the veins growing in girth to feed the incredible growth of Tom’s second cock, signaling his true membership in Muscle Club. There could be no denying what was happening, now, as his new twin grew thick and fast, swelling alongside its brother to become every bit as massive.

Tom was looking at Greg’s face, and feeling a redoubling of the orgasmic explosion building in his loins. Now it felt like a balloon was filling with sex and male energy and was going to burst at any moment. “Gonna cum,” he growled, finding his voice at last.

“No shit,” Greg said, meeting his gaze. “Fuck, dude, you better hold onto something, because you’re about to have the most massive explosion of cream of your whole life!”

Greg grabbed both of Tom’s long pricks and sucked them inside his mouth. Like some trigger, the sensation of the wet heat of Greg’s mouth on both his cocks caused the dam to burst, and Tom launched the first in a long succession of thick, powerful blasts of rich, hot, creamy cum up both barrels.

He was still growing. He could feel his own strength increasing as his muscles swelled. He shoved his cum up the length of his cocks, pushing hard pumps into Greg’s sucking mouth and feeling—as well as hearing—the other man moan with pleasure. He seemed to have an unending supply of cum. He came and came, pushing each swollen load up the thick inches of his cocks and feeling the intense pleasure and satisfaction infuse him.

He cupped the enormous and heavy muscle swelling from each pectoral globe and plucked at his nipples with his thumbs. He sighed and groaned and came buckets of cream, emptying his aching balls until there was no more left. Then he sank back into his couch and felt it collapse under the combined weight of his own enormity and Greg’s massively muscled frame. The sudden shock of the action gave way to humor, and he started to gently laugh as Greg pulled his mouth off his pricks, wiping his lips with the back of his forearm before leaning forward and planting a lingering, luxurious kiss on his lips.

“Thanks,” Greg said, smiling brightly.

“You’re welcome,” he answered, “and what the fuck just happened?”

“Uuuuh, yeah. My fault. Guess I kinda got… carried away or something.”

“But what happened?”

“Dude, you’re now officially in Muscle Club.” Greg smiled proudly and grabbed Tom’s twins, once again, squeezing the two pricks firmly. “These make it official!” He dipped his shaggy head down to licked both plump helmets, sucking down the clinging pearlescent droplets.

Tom tensed involuntarily as Greg man-handled his monster cocks, and watched the teen suckle on his pricks like a calf on a teat. A renewed tingle of sexual bliss originated from the lick of his tongue against the drooling mouths of his dicks, and he could feel another driving throb of passion enflame him again. He sucked in a breath and uttered a cautious, “Fuck!” as his toes curled.

“I know,” Greg said, “Good, right?” He watched Tom’s face as he started to lick and suck against each weighty prick. “Yeah, dude,” he growled, “get hard for me.”

“But,” Tom protested, breathlessly, “I just came! I just came gallons! How… how could I be—?” His dicks were strongly pulsing, now, throbbing as hot blood pumped into their gargantuan shafts and made each head bloom and weep clear honey.

Greg shrugged his mountainous shoulders. “Dunno, dude. But it’s pretty fucking great, ain’t it?” He licked the length of one of Tom’s pricks while he started stroking the other one. “Yeah, dude, gimme more. I want more.”

“Aw, fuck,” Tom moaned. He could feel it starting again. A renewed sense of sexual power was starting to pulse all over again up each of his pricks. They were both getting hard, and his balls started to tingle and throb. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again….”

His balls wanted to push another strong fountain of cream up both barrels. His cocks were red and shiny and the mouth of each was open as if gasping for air. It felt amazing, this constant sense of orgasmic bliss, and he knew he was going to explode with another fat burst of cum from each thick, rock-hard dick.

“Hold on, bro,” Greg advised softly. He held each prick in one hand, watching them swell and thicken with reverence. “Just… hold it back. You can stay there for as long as you want to.”

“But—”

“Trust me, Tom. Just hold on.” Then Greg started up all over again, sucking and licking and kissing and worshiping Tom’s two cocks as the grew thicker, still—and harder… and redder. “Mmm, yeah, bro. Let it build, dude. Gimme a fat fountain of cream.”

“Oh, fuck,” Tom whispered. “Oh, fuck.” So much pleasure. So much power. So, so much cum.

Lick. “Let it build, bro.” Suck. Kiss. Lick. “Bigger and bigger.” Suck. Slobber. Suck. Lick. “Fucking explode.”

Tom felt like a volcano. He felt like a bomb trying to explode. He felt better than he had ever felt in his entire life. Powerful, strong, masculine, beautiful, and filled with creamy cum.

“Bigger and bigger, bro,” Greg said softly, breathing warmth against his cocks. “Fucking explode.” His mouth encircled both throbbing helmets and sucked copiously against their hard heat.

Tom felt his sphincter tighten. His hands clenched into fists. His new, augmented and powerful muscles tensed and bulged against his skin. Greg reached up and grabbed onto his fat, pliable nipples and started to pinch and rub and tease them mercilessly, feeling his rubbery nubs stiffen in his fingertips. Tom moaned and sucked in air and stretched his head on his neck, feeling an orgasm of galactic dimensions building all over again. He groaned and whispered, “Fuck,” and grabbed onto Greg’s shaggy head and pushed him down on his cocks, bucking his hips and fucking the wrestler’s face energetically.

Greg swallowed the two immense cocks with ease and hunger. He was an expert cocksucker and relished his job. He felt them swell and stiffen in his throat and he prepared to be filled utterly with Tom’s renewed glut of hot, salty spunk.

Then Tom started to cum, and he pumped thick, heavy flows of rich, savory cream into his worshiper’s mouth and felt the young man’s muscles harden and flare against his thighs. He shoved Greg’s head down hard and pushed his load free as hard as he could, drowning in the depth of his orgasmic release.

Greg swallowed every drop with eager gusto. He felt his body warm and grow powerful as it filled up with the copious flow of Tom’s supercharged cream. It spread into his limbs and pulsed in his belly and chest and made his muscles tingle and tighten. He knew he was growing, again. Getting even larger with the help of this man’s cum, now flowing with the power of Muscle Club’s magic.

Tom felt the hands resting against his chest grow suddenly hot, and then that sense of strength and power and intense muscular development was back and flowing into him through Greg’s strong hands. He looked down and watched his body swelling with new muscle, his chest rising and his arms bulging as he grew even larger and stronger as he came.

It was a cycle of sex and muscle. Tom was feeding it to Greg, who returned it through his skin. Both men grew larger and more powerful as Tom’s monster cocks fountained his unending rich flow of cum into Greg’s body.

The second round finished at last and Tom was breathing hard, his augmented chest heaving up and down, and Greg pulled his talented mouth off of Tom’s twins and grinned happily, a look of total satisfaction on his youthful face. “Fuck, dude, that was intense!”

“Tell… tell me about it,” Tom managed to whisper.

“I mean, fuck dude, I’ve had some hot guys cum in my mouth before—but never anything like that!” Greg was still absently stroking each prick, slowly massaging and squeezing and worshipping Tom’s monsters with his hands. “Fuck,” he concluded with a grin.

“You… you still—”

Greg looked up into Tom’s face. It was beautiful, and he had sprouted a full, dark beard and mustache around his full lips. His eyes were a caramel brown with flecks of gold. His nose was noble and manly. Thick veins covered his heavy collection of raw brawn, and there was a lot of that as well. Muscle swelled everywhere on his huge, handsome body, and two fat little lickable nips poked up through the heavy forest of curls that swarmed across his pecs. A deeply carved 10-pack of abdominal muscles popped on his belly, each head climbing like a small muscular mountain above streams of more delicious, soft fur. His towering cocks were throbbing in his grip and drooling a steady stream of salty, musky honey. Fuck, he was hot. “What?”

“You still want me to fuck you?”

Greg grinned. “You bet my sweet ass, bro!”

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