Wedding swap

by squatch

Another wedding alone, until you employ a service that makes it interesting.

Another wedding invitation, another “+ guest,” but you know damn well it will be just you. You say enough is enough and discretely try to hire someone to go with you. But who would want to go with you? Sure, you like your modest job and life, but you’ve never felt like a man—most teenagers are taller than you and you haven’t been able to lose any of the baby fat. You come a across a listing that piques your interest: “Need to feel like a real man? We can make your dreams come true.”

You initially hesitate but decide to call the number in the ad. They ask that you leave a message with your info and get a text from the same number telling you that your delivery will be at your hotel room the morning of the wedding. “Delivery?” you think.

You dread the coming wedding with each passing day, your suit is tighter than it ever has been despite actually trying to cut back. The day of the wedding you get ready, take one final look in the mirror, wince at your reflection, and head to the hotel venue.

While checking in before the ceremony, the clerk says that your delivery is waiting for you. You try to ask further but he just looks back at you puzzled.

You unlock the door and open it. Staring back at you is an Adonis of man. He’s completely naked, sitting on the bed waiting for you. He looks like a Greek statue come to life. His hands are covering his genitals—you can’t wait to see what he’s packing.

Suddenly he says, “Shut the door, we need to talk.” His rough baritone hits you like a sack of potatoes and you become weak in the knees. The door shuts and you walk towards him.

“Are you my… delivery?” you sheepishly ask—God, you sound like a scared puppy. Be a man.

He smiles back and says back with a chuckle, “I guess you could call me that. I’m Alexander and for the next 24 hours, I’m yours.” You look back at him puzzled, but slightly aroused. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

After a slight awkward pause, he invites you to sit next him. You are dwarfed by his size and can’t stop staring at his pecs—He looks like he could crush you and not even break a sweat. He takes one of his giant mitts of a hand and places it on your back, rubbing you ever so gently. “For the next 24 hours, my get control of my body. You will be me and be the temporary owner—” (a cheeky grin grows across his handsome chiseled jaw) “—of this magnificent face. Since this is your first time, this comes with free reality augmentation. That means that reality will temporarily change as if you had always looked, and acted, like me from birth.”

You are overtaken with confusion and excitement—is he for real? Are you dreaming?

“Let’s get this party started!” Alexander says as he slaps you on your back, and you almost fall off the bed from the sheer strength. Kinda hurt too. He bounds off the bed and first the first time you see this amazing V shape taper down to a soft 7-inch dick—very different from your own. Then you realize how tall he is—he is a fucking beast of a man.

“How tall are you?” you ask.

He strikes a pose and answers, “Six feet, seven inches. I’ll let you discover the size of other things later on. Time’s a-wastin’, man. Get your clothes off and get inside me already!”

You try to hide as you undress; you are waiting for someone to say this is a joke. Alexander becomes inpatient and says, “All right, man, I’m going to help you out. You know, this feels fucking amazing for me too, bro, and the longer you wait, the longer you keep me from enjoyment.” He says the last bit with a wink.

Impatiently, he kneels in front of you and starts ripping off your clothes. Literally. Suddenly, you are naked in front of this muscle man. You feel a sharp sting—Alexander just stuck you with a syringe. He did the same to himself. He grabs you and throws you into the bed.

“All right, bro, put your little prick in my ass, but don’t pump.” Everything is telling you to stop, but it feels right. He obey and place your tiny dick into the mountain of muscle in front of you. He gives out a low growl. “Fuuuuck. I love this job!”

You immediately become paralyzed and can’t move. You freak out but suddenly hear a voice in your mind—Alexander’s. “Calm down, stud. We are just merging. Wanna feel something strange?” He uses his impressive hand to stroke his hardening member—you can’t see any of this but feel the amazing strength of an arm touching his (maybe your) giant rod. He starts pumping up and down. His hand is so big but it can barely contain that flesh.

He feels like he… or maybe you rather… are about to cum when he suddenly stops and says, “Hold on big stud, you will have all the fun you want in later. In a few seconds you will feel intense heat and compression.” He wasn’t kidding—every neuron is firing in your body and you are in extreme agony. The pain is too much and you pass out.

The buzzing of your phone alarm wakes you. You open your eyes and see a phone; it sorta looks like your phone, just much smaller. You go to grab it and just as it enters your palm, you realize it looks so fucking small. You feel like you could crush it. It’s then that you realize that the bed you are in seems extremely small, too—your head is touching the backboard and your feet are hanging over the bottom. The events of the last few minutes hit you and like a bang, millions of memories fill your head. You still remember who you really were, but now there is a second set—memories of growing up as Al. You never liked being called by your full name.

You jump out of bed and get extremely light headed while adjusting to your new height. You are towering over the rest of the room at six feet seven inches. You are taller than 90% of the world’s population. You feel significant tugging at your groin and look down. After straining to peer around your giant pecs, you see a glorious, fully erect 10-inch dick, all your own. You remember having trouble finding condoms to fit, but all your past lovers, male and female alike always enjoy your succulent meat and gladly accommodate. You remember a flashback to the military during deployment—guys really knew how to make your showers more exciting.

You see a mirror across the room. As you take your first steps in your new form, you marvel at how extremely large your feet are. You know you earned the nickname Sasquatch, or ‘Squatch for short, for many reasons. When you get the mirror, you can’t see any of your head. You make the same pose Alexander did just a few minutes ago. Your ranging hard-on gets a tiny bit stronger. You bend down to take a look at your face, a face that you remember but is somehow new as well. Short, messy dark hair, vibrant husky-blue eyes, a sharp nose, succulent lips, and chiseled jawline. You have a nice 5 o’clock shadow; you could never grow a beard in your old life. You take your giant mitt and rub it on your cheek.

“Like what you see so far, Al?” a familiar voice says in your head. You are startled and straighten up quickly, hitting your head on the light fixture. “Al, it’s the old Alexander—part of the deal is I get to be along for the ride. You have full control, I’m just hear for some social commentary and help you be Al, not who you were.

Suddenly you remember that you are at the wedding. No, you weren’t just invited, you are now the best man. You, Chase, and Stef where thick as thieves in college. You need to be ready by 11 but it’s only 8 a.m.

Your phone rings and you answer. Your huge thumb almost hit decline while hitting answer. “Hello?” you say—God damn, your low, raspy baritone is sexy. It’s the first time you hear it coming out of your mouth.

“Al, get your ass to the hotel gym, now! You’re late.” It’s Ben on the other side—fuck, you did make plans last night.

“I’ll be right there, bro,” you say as you hand up. Somehow you remember Alexander’s, no, your work-out routine. Finding your bag, you reach for your workout clothes. XXL, but man do they look small. You still have a raging hard on but your awkwardly shove your giant horse cock in your compression shorts. You are definitely going to give a show when you walk down the hallway—they cling to your tight ass and legs and leave nothing to the imagination. You throw on your workout shirt that do nothing to cover your bare pecs. You take your baseball glove-sized hands and rub them just to see how they feel. They migrate further south. You remember being able to palm a basketball but you can event get your hands around your own tool! You notice precum starting to wet your shorts—hopefully it will dry soon. Lastly, you grab socks that you struggle to get around your giant feet. You grab your Nike Air Force 1s but first take a whiff. Fuck, Alexander’s, no, your! Your feet smell intoxicating. You take a look at the tongue and see a small “18” printed—another reason for calling you ‘Squatch. You relish the feeling of putting on these giant shoes, only to feel your toe hit the very end of the shoe—maybe you should maybe get a size larger next time.

Your phone buzzes again—a text from Ben is yelling to get your ass down there. You grab your pre-workout shake and head to the gym. As you walk through the door, you feel the top of your hair graze the door frame. Not only that, so do your shoulders and arms. Man you are a fucking beast.

As you enter the gym you see Ben impatiently waiting. He was literally a foot taller than you your entire life, but now this little bitch is looking up to you. You go in for a bro hug when you notice him lingering a bit longer than you would expect as hit head goes into your armpit and he inhales deeply. You suddenly remember that you, Stef, and Ben had a thing in college—they were always close but enjoyed you being a part of their relationship. You lean out of the hug. Ben comes around you and slaps your ass playfully.

“Damn man, you should take a shower,” he says with a smile. “I felt you ready to go, should we meet back in the locker room?” Damn, how could you forget this giant rager in your pants? You feel a giant smile form across your face as you head towards the locker room. Ben follows behind, pinching your firm ass. As you walk through the door you stoop a bit to not hit your head and turn your wide frame. Ben calls out ‘hello?’ but no one responds. He locks the door behind him.

As you both quickly disrobe, your giant dick slaps your abs once it’s released from its cage, and Ben gives it a playful pump. “God damn, man, I never get used to that thing, but I fuckin’ love it.” You throw your giant arm around him as you both head towards the showers. He grabs your arm and strokes it as he turns his head to again rub his face in your armpit. His beard tickles you and makes your erection quiver. Ben turns on the water which warms almost instantly. As a giant, the shower head barely gets your meaty pecs wet, but that just makes the experience that much better. You quickly relish your size.

Ben grabs soap starts lathering up. With a cocky grin, you say, “Ben, man, say my name.”

“What, do you mean Al? Or do you mean—” He steps forward, tugs at your dick and says, “Squatch.”

You lean down and pull his head to yours; your tongue explores his mouth as he starts jacking your giant member. He struggles to control your giant dick with one hand but quickly grabs on with both. You lean back and moan a deep, long, “fuuuck” of sheer ecstasy.

He takes his much smaller dick and rubbing it up parallel with your shaft. He simply can’t pleasure you enough this way, you are easily twice its size. You forcefully tell him to stop and go back. He obediently obeys and says “anything for my ‘Squatch” with a smile. Just hearing your name, a reminder of your height, your massive muscle gets you close to the edge.

“Who am I?” you ask playfully. Ben jacks you off as he responds “You are the one and only ‘Squatch. No other man can compare to you in size or strength.” This bit of narcissistic play is just what you need as you ‘cum’ ever closer. He continues to work the shaft as he takes your giant head in his mouth—he struggles as first but his tongue plays with your head, linking just the right spot. You feel your giant, softball size balls churn as you cum with sheer ecstasy.

Ben begins to suck hard to eat up all of your juice. This feels so fucking amazing, unlike anything you have felt before and roar, “Fuuuuuck.” It seems to shake the room but doesn’t deter Ben.

As the last bit of spunk is sucked up by Ben, he stands back up—you pull him in close as he whispers, “Damn you taste good.”

You say, “Give me a taste” as you lean back in for a deep, passionate, salty kiss. You can’t help but think the same—Damn, you taste fucking good.

A bannging on the locker room door brings you back to your augmented reality. “Squatch!” You recognize the voice of Josh, one of your bros and another guy in the wedding party. “Dude, I can hear you from out here. Stop tugging it and get dressed! The photographer said she needs us early.”

You and Ben quickly dry off—damn, this towel seems like the size of a washcloth—and get dressed. Ben steals your boxers and puts them on. “I have a bit of space to fill in the front, but I think this will do for my something borrowed.”

You admit, they do look nice on him, and your voyeuristic tendency kicks in knowing he likes wearing them. “Dude,” you say, “that old adage is for the bride, not the groom.”

“It’s my wedding,” he says, “I can do whatever—” (he pulls you in) “—and whomever I want.”

You again go in for deep passionate kiss. You grab his ass and feel his erection grow. You break off the kiss and say, “I guess your tiny balls will be your ‘something blue,’ we never got to finish and we need to run.”

You struggle to pull up Ben’s underwear—your giant tip is clearly sticking out of the bottom. You throw the remainder of your clothes back on and head back to your room. You struggle to remove Ben’s small boxers and throw on a pair of your own. Damn, these are XXL, too, but you could definitely go up a size, especially for some extra room in the front. You start to put on your tux and struggle to fit into the shirt and jacket. You remember that during the fitting they didn’t have any larger sizes that didn’t make you look pregnant. Your giant biceps strain the seams of the fabric. Pulling on your pants you remember back to when the young 20-something redhead girl was marking your pants for alternation and just happened to brush your package a few too many times. You again struggle putting on your shoes; you look at the label and see a small 20. “Damn, Squatch,” you say to yourself. Your penis jumps. You walk over to the mirror, bend down, and take one last look.

“Damn man,” Alexander whispers, “We clean up good.”

“Damn right we do,” you say with a wink, giving your crotch a playful tug.

You throw a flask, your speech, and a few ‘small’ XL condoms in your coat pockets and head to the ceremony. You meet up with the wedding party in the lobby. Old and new memories flood back as you recognize the faces. You see Josh and give him a hug. “Couldn’t wait for a bridesmaid, eh?” he says. You give him a playful punch—a bit too hard, knocking him back.

You bro-hug Riley—the old you used to be work-out buddies with him. He was always a foot taller, showing you up at the gym, with you struggling to keep up. Al and Riley were also lifting buddies, but Riley always struggled to keep up with you. “Damn, bud,” Riley says, “Look at those guns and that chest. How big are your arms now?” he says, straining to reach and squeeze your arm with two hands.

You recall measuring about a week ago—”27.5 inches small,” you say with a chuckle, going into a double bicep pose. You hear a small ‘rip’ and notice the seam started to tear apart.

You see Jess, the maid of honor, and bend down to give her a kiss on the cheek. The old you could never get the courage to talk with her in college. Al had no such problem and dated her for over a year. She couldn’t get enough of your horse cock—she broke it off when you went into the military. The old you starts to take over and you start to retreat without saying anything more. Alexander whispers, “Bro, talk to her.”

“You dating anyone right now, Jess?” you ask sheepishly.

“No” she says with a smile, “maybe we can get some time together later.” She runs her hand down your thigh, squeezing your head at the end of your chubby shaft.

You load the bus—it groans under the weight of your sheer muscle. The photographer struggles to keep you in frame. You joke around with this and put Ben on your shoulders at one point. You can feel his hardening dick against your neck, but it does make for a good pic. As you wait for the ceremony to start you enjoy being able to hang out with your buds—something you never were able to do in the past. Better yet, they treat you like the alpha, looking to you for approval. Damn, this almost feels as good as your time with Ben earlier today.

Once the ceremony gets underway you see Stef for the first time. God damn, she looks gorgeous. You remember meeting during freshman orientation—she lived in the room across from yours. She was your first—nice, tight, wet pussy that could handle every inch of your rod. It never was romantic, but it got hot, especially when Ben joined the picture. When you left college for the military they got close, hence the wedding today. The thought of that succulent flesh hugging your dick starts to get you a chub—you know that people can easily see you growing appendage but fuck it, they should be looking at the bride anyway.

The ceremony ends, the reception starts. Your speech may have gone a bit too far, but people, including Stef and Chase, enjoyed it. You finally get to steal a dance with Stef. “May I have the next one, pretty lady?” you ask.

“Anything for my Squatch,” she says.

As the slow song starts up and the lights dim, you pull Stef in close. “Do you recognize this song?” you ask.

After a short pause she starts to well up. “You old softie,” she says, “it’s the song from our first night together. I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since then.” She steps in closer and rests your head on your meaty pec. You bend you head in a take a whiff. Fuck, she smells good—you start to remember the Al’s good-ol’-days and your rod jumps back to life. “Well, maybe you aren’t such a softie after all,” Stef says with a smile.

After the dance you start talking with Jess while waiting in line for a drink refill. You both are pretty buzzed. You get to talking, and do a shot. As you throw down the glass and slam your meaty hand down in victory, you feel her small delicate hand land on top of yours. You look her and smile; she does her best to take ahold of your giant paw and leads you to the coat closet. As you enter you lock the door and immediately start making out. You try to pull off your jacket but seem to rip it more in the process. Things get hot fast and your playful throw her on the counter so you don’t have to bend over such much. You continue to aggressive explore every inch of her mouth while feeling her succulent breasts.

Alexander breaks in. “Dude, we are ready to go, what the hell are you waiting for?! Grab a condom and do her!”

You struggle to break away and fumble for your jacket to grab a condom. “Take off your underwear,” you say.

“I’m not wearing any,” Jess says with a smile. You quickly undo your pants and whip out your salami. You struggle get the condom on—it only covers maybe half of your shaft. God damn, this thing is huge! “What are you waiting for, Squatch!”

You go back to a passionate embrace, lift up her dress, and struggle to slide even your tip in. “Don’t go slow, Squatch, give it all to me, you know I can take it.” With a powerful thrust you feel the tight, warm embrace of small gasp of pleasure from Jess. You remember this from Al’s memories but the present feeling doesn’t even compare. You begin powerful thrusts as Jess says “Oh fuck yeah, Squatch! Fuck me harder!”

You grab her waist and pull her to the edge of the counter. You pump faster and feel and hear your giant balls hitting her ass. “Who am I?” you pant.

“Squatch!” You are almost there, just on the edge. It looks like Jess is right there with you.

“Louder!” you demand.

“SQUATCH!” she yells as you both seem to orgasm at the same time. You feel balls churn and explode. You both are panting in post-coital bliss, your dick still inside. You give her another kiss at the same time giving a final pump. You feel your giant rod quiver one last time before pulling out.

You go back in for one, deep passionate kiss with Jess as you pull your giant appendage out of her tight pussy. She heavily sighs relief as you do. “Man, Squatch, I forgot how big you are!” she squeals with a smile.

You grin, feeling your sausage reinflate at the sound of your mighty size. “Well,” you say, “you kept it pretty tight. Let me see if I can find more room.” With your pants still at your ankles, you squat and start pushing your tongue between the lips of Jess’s pussy.

Just as you are about to start round two, the coat attendant comes back in. With a smile, you help Jess down and hurriedly pull up your pants and try to show your dick in.

Both you and Jess go your separate ways. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Your old lifting partner, Riley, is in there at the urinal. He looks over his shoulder as you walk.

“Hey bud! Thought that was you coming in!” he says with a smile.

You step up to the urinal next to him and let your monster out to drain. As you do, you slap Riley on the back, almost making him fall. “Damn, man! Be gentle with little guys like me,” Riley says.

“Sorry, bro,” you say, as you rub his upper back with your giant mitt.

He looks over at your large appendage and whistles. “I always wondered what you were packing. I knew it had to be huge ever since I felt it hit me in the face when you dunked on me that one time. Damn near gave me a concussion!” he says with a laugh.

He shakes and zips up—no faucet turns on, though. Gently, you feel his arms come around your waist. With his right hand, he steadies your shaft and starts to gentle run his hand up and down your thigh. You lean back into Riley, taking a deep breath of his styled but messy hair. As the old you, you only dreamed of what it would be like to be with Riley. You never thought this could, or would, ever happen.

You turn around, giant dick out, and look Riley up and down. You push him back up towards the door; he has a scared look on his face—of all people, muscle man Riley, scared of you. You lock the door and begin to passionately explore his mouth, grinding your chub into his stomach.

“I never thought this would happen,” you hear him say, panting, as he breaks your embrace.

Your deep bass of a laugh fills the bathroom. “Bro, I was literally just thinking the same thing.”

With nowhere else to go, you both end up locked in each other’s embrace on the floor. “Let’s take care of you first,” he says. As you lay back on the floor, hands behind your head, you feel his sensuous tongue begin to lap the precum emanating for you giant head. Slowly, he engulfs your entire manhood, rubbing his nose in the little bush you have.

The feeling is mind blowing. You put your hand on the back of Riley’s head, and guide him in and out. He seemingly doesn’t need to take a breath. After what feels like hours, you are about to cum and push his head back down your shaft. You thrust his face as mountains of cum emanate from your giant member.

He pulls back as cum continues to shower his face. He crawls on top of you and says, “A little help?” as he points to his face. You lick up every tiny morsel of genetic gold and continue on to his mouth. You wrap one leg around his. You feel his dick pushing against your chest, a dick you have also longed to see.

He whispers in your ear, “Five me a condom.” He unbuckles his pants, you throw yours off, not before ripping your shoes and socks off. He tries to get your Squatch-sized condom on, but it’s too big. “I guess you get to have all of me, Squatch,” he says with a chuckle.

He gets positioned between your legs and feels the definition in your thigh. You didn’t realize how flexible you were as you pull back your legs, ready to accept your bro that you have fantasized about for years. As you do, you feel Riley slap his above average-sized dick on your perineum. After lubing up with soap from the dispenser, he slides into you like a hot knife through butter. You have no problem taking his little 7 inches (little at least compared to you, you big fucker). He moans in ecstasy.

You begin to cramp and rest your giant calf on his shoulder. As he begins to thrust in and out, he takes a giant whiff of your right foot and rubs it with his beard. With your bro thrusting balls deep, your giant salami is doing cartwheels. You pull Riley down by his tie and roll; you are now sitting on his pelvis, grinding his dick deeper and deeper. “F…fu…fuck, Squatch!” Riley yells as you feel his load fill you up.

Spent, you fall to the side of your bro on the ground. You throw your giant arm around him, and grab his pec, feeling its meat. “That, bud, was fucking amazing!” he says through gasps for air.

After lying on the ground in sheer bliss, a pounding at the door brings you back to your augmented reality. You and Riley put yourselves back together. As you adjust his tie, you lean down for one last kiss, and slip your room key into his breast pocket. You whisper in his ear “Room 319. I’ll be waiting,” and grab his ass one last time. As you unlock the door, you take one last look at Riley, give him a cheeky wink, and head back to the party.

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