Kennebunkport

by JuicyJ

Two childhood friends meet up for their yearly beach trip together, but this summer will be unlike any of the others they’ve spent together. 

(Oliver’s Perspective)

“Okay, you can roll your windows down now if you’d like,” I said to my sister. She rolled her eyes and responded sarcastically with a “thanks.” As the sound of the four car windows descending filled the vehicle I inhaled the salty outside air deeply, savoring the memories tied to it. I leaned my head out the window and gazed out at the Atlantic Ocean as we drove. I had intentionally asked my family to wait to roll down the windows so that I could be hit with the flood of nostalgia the smell of the briny air brought on as we drove down this specific road overlooking the sea, accurately named Beach Ave. I felt my spirits rise in a way that only happened here. This annual trip we took every July to visit our closest family friends was always my happiest time each year. My mom’s best friend, Gail, had a beach house in the small town of Kennebunkport, Maine. It had a population of just 3,500, which was always a stark change of pace from my hometown, Nashville. I was accustomed to a noisy chaotic city whereas Kennebunkport was, even during the tourist season, a sleepy town.

And I loved Maine and its Northeastern summers. While an 80-degree day was considered a scorcher in Maine, those from Southern states like Tennessee can attest to the unbearable heat and humidity that made those temperatures feel even hotter. I relished spending one of the hottest months of the year here.

As we turned the bend, Gail’s picturesque house came into view. The stone pillars at the front door were adorned with manicured vines that contrasted well with the dark yellow paneling of the bottom half of the house and the brick that composed the top half. To the right of the house was a hydrangea bush, which was older than me, contributing a beautiful, rich pink hue to the entire fixture. The best part was the proximity of the house to the ocean. We could step outside the back door and find ourselves on Mother’s Beach. I grinned from the joy of knowing this would be my home for the next month.

Gail came out to greet us as we all spilled from the car, stretching our stiff muscles from the last 8 hours we’d been driving. She smiled warmly at me as she hugged me hello. She stepped back to appraise me. “You’re so grown up, Oliver”, she said tenderly. “20 becomes you”, she complimented me. I smiled lovingly back at the person who was a second mother to me. “50 becomes you”, I complimented back. She laughed at my flattery, and patting my cheek and saying, “You’re such a charmer, you get that from your father”.

“Oli”, called a male voice from an open window on the second floor. A head with dark, curly hair peered down at us from the window sill. Bowen, Gail’s son, gave me a wide grin when I made eye contact with him. “Hey”, he called down to me.

“Howdy”, I called up to him. He hoisted himself out the window and made a leap to grab onto the nearest stone arch from which he climbed down to the ground with ease. This was a trick he’d figured out how to do when he was 10, to the dismay of Gail, who was relentlessly irritated by his refusal to use the stairs. “Bowen”, I heard her sigh behind me in an exasperated tone. As he tackled me with a hug I felt my cheeks flush and my heart race with excitement. Seeing him again was always the highlight of my year. We had grown up together on this beach, and over the years, we had become inseparable. As a child, it felt like the end of the world whenever we had to leave. I would count down the days until we could return, eagerly anticipating the next summer vacation and the chance to see him again. Whereas other kids that age spent the year counting down the days until Christmas or their birthdays I was counting down the days until Maine. Until Bowen.

As we caught up, we took a moment to appraise how a year had subtly transformed our appearances. I’d kept my curly red hair short and tidy, while Bowen had let his dark curls grow out into a carefree, loose style that suited him well. The passage of time had chiseled away some of the boyishness from our faces, replacing it with more mature, angular features. Bowen nearly looked like a fully grown man, but despite the absence of adolescence, it was a familiar face I knew well.

His dark brown eyes, the same shade as his hair, greeted me, but when the sunlight touched them, lighter flecks of hazel within became visible. Those same eyes appraised me now, just as they had many times before. And his pair of full lips, always turned slightly upward at the corners, had a way of making him look like he was smiling even when he wasn’t—a trait that remained unchanged. As I smiled, those lips responded, mirroring my joy as they always had.

Likewise, what struck him the most about my face was the unaltered familiarity it held. My light blue eyes, reminiscent of the ocean that brought us together every year, returned his gaze. The same freckles I had always possessed adorned my nose and cheeks, though, by the end of my stay here, the sun will have darkened and emphasized them further. Unlike his lips, mine weren’t as full and didn’t naturally curl upwards. Instead, my resting expression tended to be more enigmatic and reserved, giving off an air of standoffishness during initial encounters.

We were nearly the same height at 5’11, but Bowen had an inch or two on me. Being similar in height was where the similarities between our bodies stopped, though. He’d always had a more willowy, slender frame, while I naturally had a more stocky, muscular build. I got into wrestling in middle school and excelled in it for that reason. I caught the eye of college scouts in high school and landed a scholarship at the university I attended now. Whereas I was more athletic and physical, Bowen was artistic. When he was 10 he discovered grunge rock and from there, it was over. He’d asked for a guitar for Christmas, got really good at playing and writing songs and now played in a band with some friends. They were actually pretty good and had a small following on Spotify.

Seeing him in person stirred a familiar, if not altogether welcome, flutter in my stomach. Our friendship had always been platonic and uncomplicated for me, until the pivotal summer after my thirteenth birthday when I started feeling nuanced and unprecedented emotions. Everything changed for me during those warm days. His touch lingered on my skin long after he let go, leaving behind a tingling sensation. His laughter at my jokes brought a soft warmth to my cheeks, and even the most ordinary moments, like being in the same room, held a newfound significance. It took me a while to work out what I was feeling was attraction, and even longer to come to terms with that newfound sexuality.

Bowen had never given the impression of being anything but platonic with me, so I’d tried to stifle my feelings for fear of making him uncomfortable and ruining our friendship. It was a losing battle, though. With every summer that passed my adoration for him grew stronger, and now, without a doubt, I found myself completely and irrevocably in love with him. Enamored by his eyes, charmed by his wit, and mesmerized by his guitar skills and way with words. I was terrified to express these feelings, though. I didn’t want to risk losing him. As much as I longed to be with Bowen, I wanted him in my life in any capacity possible. If this was the only form that could take, so be it. Fate dealt me a lonely blow.

That night, Bowen and I followed our first-day tradition of sitting on the beach and listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore while catching each other up on our lives. The full moon painted the beach with a natural glow, allowing us to see each other without any artificial light. I had managed to persuade my older brother to buy me a bottle of tequila before I left and I brought it along for our rendezvous. As we steadily worked through it our words became sillier and our moods lighter.

Suddenly, Bowen turned to me with a mischievous gleam in his eye.”Wanna go swim”, he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“That’s a horrible idea”, I responded with a smile, “we’ve been drinking and it’s night…yeah let’s do it” I agreed, letting his energy overrule my worry.

“Let’s do it naked”, Bowen said, slurring the s a bit on ‘Let’s’.

I laughed nervously, “I’m not going into the ocean at night with my dick out”.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

“How”, I retorted.

“Soon we’ll be graduated adults with jobs and responsibilities. Let’s do something stupid just because we can”, he persisted while shaking me playfully by the shoulders. “Oh my god, ahhhhhhh, ok!”, I finally surrendered, “Just stop shaking me; I’ll puke”. His laughter filled the air as he started undressing. I hoped it was dark enough to conceal the blush that tinged my cheeks as I looked away while removing my shirt. Soon, we were sprinting like carefree kids, our bare bodies glowing under the moonlight as we dove into the freezing water. The cold hit me like a ton of bricks, but the warmth of the alcohol in my blood made it bearable. We waded in, goofing off and horsing around with each other, venturing deeper into the water as our laughter echoed into the night.

I jerked awake the next morning lying naked in the sand with the feeling of the tide on my legs as it flowed in. I was greeted by a raging boner that I immediately became insecure about when I realized that Bowen, also nude, was naked and lying fast asleep beside me. I broke my own rules and allowed myself to drink in the sight of him. He was sporting his own morning wood, and the sight of a drop of precum leaking from the head of it made my mouth go dry and my own painfully hard wood twitch in response. I hadn’t seen his naked dick since we were little kids. I’d gotten an idea that it was big from the outline in his pants I’d caught glimpses of over the years, but it was bigger than even I’d imagined. He had really grown a monster. I tore my gaze away, shoved the feelings down, and stood up once I was composed. “Ow”, I said in surprise when a sharp, stinging pain arose on my left leg. “What the fuck”, I said in alarm as I found the source of the hurt. A wide, light pink welt spiraled up my leg starting from my shin and ending at my knee. The pain subsided after 10 seconds or so. Trying to make sense of how I’d gotten this wound triggered the memories of last night. I remembered Bowen talking me into going night skinny dipping, but I couldn’t remember what had happened after we’d gone in the water nor how we’d gotten back on shore. The memories had the surreal quality of a dream, but seeing the mark on my leg made it hard to refute that we’d gone in and obviously something had happened to me. I looked over at Bowen and saw that his right leg was marked with an identical mark to my left one. My alarm was torn by the lust of seeing him naked again. He looked even better from the angle I was at now, so it was even harder to tear my eyes away from him and shove the feelings back down. “Ow, god”, I mumbled as the stinging pain flared back up again on my leg. I spotted the clothes that we’d thrown carelessly in the sand last night as we’d drunkenly stripped further up from the shore. I pulled on my shorts and threw Bowen’s over his dick for his sake as well as mine. It had looked even more full and massive in the split second I’d seen it before I threw the shorts over it. The mark on my leg started hurting again. “Bowen”, I said while gently shaking his shoulder. He didn’t rouse. “Bowen”, I called a bit louder this time, and immediately his eyes shot open.

He quickly sat up while looking around in a disoriented way. “What”, he said in a confused tone as he looked down and realized he was naked. His cheeks flushed a bit. “What happened”, he asked, looking up at me while nonchalantly pulling his legs up to himself and using his arms to hide the outline of his boner.

“I don’t know, I was hoping you could tell me”, I replied.

He’d been about to say something else while looking at me, but before he could his right leg jerked up reflexively and he said, “Ow” in a startled and confused tone. He spotted the mark on his leg. “Ahh!”, he exclaimed as he used his hands to pull the leg closer to his face to get a better look at the mark. “What happened to my leg”, he cried.

“I have one just like it”, I said, lifting my marked leg out. He appraised mine with wide eyes while rubbing his. “What the hell did we…”, he started to say with a puzzled expression, and then the memories hit him. “We went swimming”, he half stated, half asked me. I nodded. “Naked swimming”, he remarked as he looked down at himself. “Was that my idea”, he asked.

“I think so”, I said.

“I can’t remember anything past us going in”, he said.

“Neither can I”. Bowen’s brows furrowed in concern.

“I’ll grab our shirts, let’s go inside”, I suggested as I left him to walk back up to where we’d tossed our clothes. This was my way of giving him some privacy so he could pull on his shorts, but also because I was having what felt like the hardest and largest erection of my life, and I was embarrassed that he could probably see it. My dick was so pumped with blood it felt like it was going to explode. “It really stings! Is yours hurting too?”, Bowen called to me as I picked up our shirts and shook the sand off them. “Yeah! It comes and goes”, I called back to him as, impossibly, I felt my boner inflate a bit bigger. “Catch”, I called to him as I balled up his shirt and tossed it the distance between us. I wasn’t walking back up to him until the shirt was covering his torso and, hopefully, also his boner. Thankfully, we’d both worn baggy shirts down last night, and they covered us both so that we were decent to walk inside the house.

“It feels like a jellyfish sting”, Bowen remarked to me as we walked side by side up the beach and toward the back porch of his house. “Must’ve been a really big jellyfish”, I said while looking at how the welt was so wide it nearly wrapped completely around the circumference of my calf. Nobody was up yet as we walked through the sliding door and into the kitchen. The motion of my shorts rubbing against my dick as we’d walked back had been making the boner worse and worse, and now it felt like I was about ten seconds from busting the biggest nut of my life. “I’m gonna grab a shower”, I said in what I hoped was a casual tone while I walked away as fast as I could without being suspicious. “K”, he called to me as I took the stairs up to my guest room two at a time.

My self-control was waning. The memories of Bowen’s naked body and hard dick from this morning flooded my mind as my hormone-drunk brain begged for release. I had to grit my teeth and use all my willpower to keep the explosion at bay until I was in my bathroom. I could barely get my shorts halfway down and aim my dick into the shower before the biggest orgasm I’d had in my life swept through me like a tsunami. My legs nearly buckled from the intensity. I had to bite down on my lip hard to keep from moaning as rope after rope of cum shot from me. Finally, after what felt like minutes, it subsided. I sank to the bathroom floor panting, and for a few minutes, all I could do was sit there in a daze. I looked into the shower and felt a mixture of pride and guilt over the mess I’d made. It was all over the wall, and a few ropes had even hit the ceiling. I’d always been a heavy cummer, but this was a lot even for me. I wasn’t above average in the dick department the way Bowen was, but I was a good 7 inches hard, and I had no complaints. 7 inches was big enough for it to be considered a “hog”, but not so big it was unmanageable and intimidating; the perfect “boyfriend dick”. I was, however, very above average in the size of my balls. My dick had reached its adult size when I was 15, but my balls had kept going for a few years after. They’d swollen from the size of grapes to large chicken eggs by the time I was 16, which I thought would be the end, but they continued to swell and inflate larger until they were each the size of a goose egg by the time I was a freshman in college. My load size increased as they did, and so I was used to jizzing sometimes as much as a pint if I was really backed up (I came into a measuring cup once out of curiosity) but it looked more like 2 pints of jizz on the wall today. I looked down at the massive orbs and noticed that they looked a bit larger than usual. “Are they still growing?”, I thought to myself as I took them in my hand.

Without permission, my brain conjured an image of them filling Bowen’s hands instead of my own. I shoved the image away. Fantasizing too much about him only fed the unrequited crush. I frowned as I felt the mark on my leg begin to sting again. I turned the shower on and got in, hoping that, if it was a jellyfish sting, some soap, and warm water would help the irritation go down some.

(Bowen’s Perspective)

I can’t really pinpoint when I fell in love with my best friend, but I know exactly when I figured it out. We were both 15, and he was talking about some school dance he went to that year. He showed me pictures of himself with the girl he went with, and for some reason, it made me jealous. I didn’t get why I cared so much until I started thinking about it more, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

It was like looking at one of those weird illusionary paintings where everyone says there’s a hidden face, but no matter how hard you look, you can’t see it. Then, suddenly, you change your angle, and bam! there’s the face. That’s how it was when I realized I was in love with Oliver. Everything about our friendship took on a whole new meaning. The way I paid attention to him, how much I missed him when he was gone, and how I always wanted to hang out with him more than anyone else—these seemingly random lines suddenly formed a meaningful picture.

And once I saw it, there was no going back, no matter how much I wished I could unsee it. It was overwhelming to realize both my feelings for guys and that the person I fell for was practically my brother just a few seconds ago.

The fear of jeopardizing our friendship, if he didn’t feel the same way, kept my mouth shut. Instead, I vented all my unrequited feelings into my songs. It’s cathartic and helpful but doesn’t make it go away. We were both 20 now, going on 21, and still, I can’t tell him. It would devastate me if it ruined the friendship. I swore to myself that while he was here this summer I would give it a shot, but with him only minutes away I could feel that courage quickly slipping away. The noise of car doors being shut and the sounds of “hellos” followed by hugs drifted through my open window. I poked my head outside it and immediately spotted him. It’s hard to miss the red hair. “Oli”, I called down, using the nickname my family gave him when he was little. He looked up, immediately returning the wide grin I gave him. “Hey”, I greeted.

“Howdy”, he drawled, putting on an exaggerated Southern accent for comedic effect. I went downstairs, climbing down the stone archway, ignoring my mother’s exasperated expression. I tackled him with a hug. I’d meant to try and knock him down with the tackle, but I would’ve had more luck with a wall. He didn’t budge an inch. I backed up to appraise him and felt my eyes widen. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were trying to move up a weight class”, I said as I admired the muscle he’d put on since the last summer I’d seen him. “I’m still ten pounds away from my goal. My coach has had me on such a strict diet and lifting schedule”, he responded while rolling his eyes. I felt what little confidence I had left to tell him how I felt quickly dry up. Oliver had always been hot with a boyishly cute face and wrestler’s build, but now that he had gotten really muscular he was so hot it hurt my feelings. I don’t think of myself as ugly, but I just felt like, if Oliver did like guys, I wouldn’t be his type. He got a full ride to his college to tackle and pin hot, muscular guys down for sport. No doubt he’d want someone more equal to him in stature.

That night we went down to the beach like we’d done every summer since we were 12.

“I got Clint to get us something”, Oliver said as he pulled out a bottle of tequila that had been wrapped in his towel. “Holy shit”, I laughed, “what did you have to promise him”.

“Nothing, I caught him and Gina fucking on the couch. This was to buy my silence”

“What, do your parents really not think that he and his girlfriend of 2 years aren’t doing it”

“Not on our couch, hell no. The dogs aren’t even allowed on it let alone my brother’s dick, balls, and ass”.

“Ew”, I laughed. Oliver took a swig from the bottle. The face he made wasn’t reassuring.

“That bad?”, I asked.

“Terrible. I think he bought the shittiest brand to be petty”, he said as he passed it to me. It was vile, but after about half of the bottle later it wasn’t that bad.

“Wanna go swimming”, I heard myself ask him.

“That’s a terrible idea”, Oliver laughed, “we’ve been drinking and it’s night…yeah let’s do it”.

“Let’s do it naked”, I blurted out before I could stop myself. Oliver laughed, but it had an uncomfortable edge to it. If I had been sober I’d be shitting bricks right now, but the tequila was liquid confidence. “I am not going into the ocean at night with my dick out”, he responded. “Come on! It’ll be fun”, I persisted.

“How”, he retorted.

“Soon we’ll be graduated adults with jobs and responsibilities. Let’s do something stupid just because we can”, I protested while shaking him by his shoulders. “Oh my god, ahhhhhhh, ok!”, he surrendered, “Just stop shaking me; I’ll puke”. I laughed victoriously as I jumped up and pulled my shorts down. My dick flopped out dramatically. I looked in my peripheral to see if Oliver had seen that, but he was facing away from me as he pulled his shorts off. Thankfully, the tequila kept me from springing an instant boner at the sight of his ass. Without warning, he launched ahead of me and started running toward the water as he threw his shirt off behind him. “Wait”, I called after him as I struggled to get my shirt off. The run was freeing, like how it felt as a little kid to run so fast it felt like your legs would fly off. I went as fast as I could to catch up to him, but his legs had much more power than mine. The water was freezing and caused me to inhale sharply from the shock when I barreled in. “Come on slowpoke”, he called to me from further out. “Not all of us are on steroids”, I called out to him, making him laugh. I dove into the water to swim out to him, and then-

“Bowen”. My barely conscious brain ignored whatever that noise was.

“Bowen”, it came again, louder. My brain recognized the noise as my name this time, and that it was Oliver’s voice saying it. I opened my eyes to see him standing over me and the open morning sky above him. I sat up, looking around as my brain scrambled to make sense of where I was.”What”, I asked nobody in particular as I realized I was completely naked except for a pair of shorts thrown over what looked like the largest morning wood I’d ever had in my life. Had those shorts been there when I’d woken up or had Oliver found me naked and covered me? Blood rushed into my face from the embarrassment. “What happened”, I tried to ask as casually as possible while I pulled my legs up to my chest to hide my boner. Oliver shrugged his wide shoulders. “I don’t know, I was hoping you could tell me”. I opened my mouth to say something, but seeing him shirtless with an obvious boner of his own outlined in his shorts was causing my dick, and brain, to short-circuit. “Get a grip”, I scolded myself inwardly when a sharp sting caused me to jerk my leg up in alarm. “Ow”, I said as I looked at my leg and saw a wide, spiraling red mark traveling up from the bottom of my leg up to my knee. “Ahh!”, I yelled in fear as I used my hands to pull my leg closer so I could inspect the mark better. “What happened to my leg!”, I said in a horrified tone.

“I have one just like it”, Oliver said. I looked away from my leg at his outstretched one and saw that he did, and it was identical to mine. The stinging began to fade as I massaged my leg. “What the hell did we…”, I started to ask, but stopped as cold water from the tide lapping around my feet jogged the memory of how cold the water was last night when I ran in. “We went swimming”, I said with only 50% conviction as the memory felt more like a dream. Oliver nodded though, confirming it as real. “Naked swimming”, I added with more confidence, what with me being naked as proof. A memory of me shaking him by the shoulders surfaced. “Was that my idea”, I asked.

“I think so”, he said with some uncertainty.

“I can’t remember anything past us going in”, I confessed.

“Neither can I”, Oliver admitted. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I tried to remember more, but it all goes blank after I hit the water. “I’ll grab our shirts, let’s go inside”, Oliver suggested as he started walking away from me and up the beach.

I jumped up from the sand, and my flagpole of an erection slapped loudly against my stomach from the motion. I checked behind me to see if Oliver had heard that, but he didn’t turn around if he had. I looked down and saw his ass filling out his shorts, and the memory of seeing it bare, when he’d taken his shorts off last night, surfaced. Sensations traveled up and down my shaft at the memory, and I looked down to see a bead of precum collect at the slit. The head was flared large with how full of blood it was. I shook my head and forced the memory and associated feelings away as I pulled my shorts on. “Fuck”, I complained to myself as the mark on my leg began to hurt again. “It really stings! Is yours hurting too?”, I called to Oliver.

“Yeah!”, I heard him call back, “It comes and goes”. I frowned as I tried to think of what the hell could’ve caused this. It reminded me of a jellyfish sting almost. “Catch”, Oliver called to me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned around to face him and caught the balled-up shirt he’d thrown my way. I was extremely grateful I’d chosen to wear one of my most oversized tees down last night as it hung low enough to completely cover the boner. Oliver, thankfully, was also covered by his shirt, so it was easier to control my thoughts as we began walking up to the house. After 5 steps in, though, I realized how little time I had. The fabric of the shorts moving back and forth across the shaft was sending shocks of pleasure up and down me. I could feel an orgasm brimming, and we were only halfway to the house. “It feels like a jellyfish sting”, I said to Oliver in an effort to distract myself.

“Must’ve been a really big jellyfish”, was all he said, sounding far away himself. I couldn’t think of anything else to say as the lust ravaged my brain. I chanted, “Just get to your room”, over and over in my head as tunnel vision set in. I robotically followed Oliver through the back door and into the kitchen. “I’m gonna grab a shower”, he said as he began walking towards the stairs. I managed to choke out a, “K”, to him as he disappeared up the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight I bolted for my room, which was thankfully on the first floor. Running was almost a mistake, though, because the increased motion of the shorts fabric nearly made me cream my pants in the hallway. I slammed my bedroom door louder than I’d intended as I flew in, but couldn’t even care as I tore my sorts off and confronted the beast. I was used to having a big dick. I’d been dealing with this monster ever since puberty hit it like a freight train and ballooned it from a 3 inches long softie—5 inches long hardie to a whopping 7 inches long softie—9 inches long hardie in the span of 4 months the summer I was 16. Then, just when I thought I was capping out on puberty, it randomly got several inches thicker when I was 19. I’d gotten used to having a terrifying dick in the freak percentile range, but what I was looking at right now was beastly even for it. It reached further past my belly button than it normally did and was drooling precum like a rabid animal salivating before it goes completely mad. Now that the shorts were off and no longer rubbing against it I was able to keep the orgasm just at the edge. I fell backward onto my bed and writhed in pleasure as I fought the urge to grab my dick, pump it, and explode. I wrapped my hand around it—well, as much around it as I could—and that alone made my back arch up from how good it felt. The beast swelled even larger in my hand as I heard the sound of the shower being turned on upstairs. I thought of Oliver in the shower. The feeling of my dick pumping even fuller of blood coupled with the image of Oliver soaping up his body sent me over the edge. A long rope of cum crescendoed out and blanketed my nose, forehead, and hair. A second coated my lips, chin, and neck. The third, fourth, and fifth drenched my chest and stomach. I laid in my bed panting and in a daze. Once I could coherently think again I got up and walked to my shower. I let the warm water wash the spunk off me as I tried to collect myself. I could still hear the water running upstairs from where Oliver’s room was, and my brain kept imagining what he looked like right now as I fought to control the thoughts. It wasn’t helping that the mark on my leg had started stinging again.

(Oliver’s Perspective)

“Finally”, I grumbled to myself as I watched the last of my spunk flow down the shower drain. It’d taken ten minutes of scrubbing to get it all off the wall and ceiling after my geyser impression.

“Oliver”, came the voice of my mom calling me from downstairs. I turned the shower off, opened the bathroom door, and peeked my head out so my voice would carry. “What?”.

“Can you come downstairs please”, she asked,

“Yeah! Be down in a sec I’m getting out of the shower”, I called back. I toweled off and then got on the scale I’d brought from home to record my weight as was my usual morning routine. I had to report to my coach with quantitative proof that I was making progress on my assignment to move up a weight class before the fall semester.

My eyebrows shot up as I read the number 225 on the little screen. I’d only been at 217lbs when I’d weighed myself yesterday before leaving to come here. “Damn”, I remarked as I looked up at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t help but feel a tad vain as I looked at how big I was getting. I knew, realistically, I hadn’t really gained 8 pounds of muscle overnight. That the weight fluctuation was water weight or something, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that my muscles looked a bit bigger than they had yesterday. I shook my head, chalked it up to ego, tore my gaze away from my reflection, and pulled on a well-worn pair of shorts and a shirt to go downstairs.

I got halfway down and then realized from the feeling of my balls bouncing and swinging with my descent that I’d forgotten to put on underwear. I was a grower, with my dick sitting at 4 inches when soft, but the size of my overactive cum-tanks made it so that my bulge was never very subtle no matter what I did to try and make it discreet, especially now that my legs were getting bigger and pushing my balls further out in front of me. If I didn’t have underwear on to constrain the movement of them the outline of what I had swinging between my legs was even more embarrassingly obvious. I made a 180-turn and bounded back up the stairs just as my mother appeared at the foot of them.

“Where are you going”, she asked,

“Sorry, I’ll be right down”, I called as I disappeared into my room, flung my shorts off, pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, changed into a baggier shirt that hung a bit longer over the still prominent bulge, and raced back downstairs now in Mom-presentable attire. “Good morning”, Gail said while smiling at me as I walked into the kitchen. I returned the smile while squirming guiltily on the inside, feeling like I had the words, “I jizzed on your ceiling”, written across my forehead in big letters.

“So, there’s been a change of plans”, my mother began as I pulled out a chair and settled down at the little kitchen table. “What’s that?”, I asked curiously.

“We’re leaving for Peaks today”.

“Oh, why”, I inquired with surprise.

“The weather forecast for our usual week is terrible, so we decided to go this week instead”, Gail explained.

“Oh, ok”, I replied. “Peaks”, referred to Peaks Island, which was about an hour away from Kennebunk. Once I and Bowen were old enough to be independent, our moms started a tradition of spending one of the 4 weeks of the month staying at a resort Inn located on the little island, sans kids. They had consistently gone on this trip the third week of the month for the last 4 years, though, with the only exception being now. “And Liv will be coming with us”, my mom added quickly.

“What?”, I couldn’t help but express a touch of childish indignation as sibling jealousy flared up. “You never let me come when I’d beg as a kid, how come she gets to go?”.

“Because”, my mom started, enunciating the word slowly, “we’re making it a girl’s trip instead of a mom’s trip this time”. I shot her a side-eye, and she chuckled. “I thought you’d be excited not to have to babysit her”, she teased.

“That is a plus “, I conceded, “but still, unfair”.

“Try to see it from her perspective”, my mom suggested.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, while Liv loves coming here, it’s not the same for her as it is for you. You have Bowen. She doesn’t have anyone like that here to keep her company and have fun with when we’re gone”.

“We keep her company”, I reassured her.

“Oli, she’s a 12-year-old girl. Two 20-year-old boys who have their own friends and lives are not good company. She gets lonely”, she explained gently.

I fell silent as guilt washed over me. “I never thought about it like that”, I admitted, feeling ashamed for being so self-centered. My mom ruffled my hair. “It’s ok love, it’s not your fault. But you can see why me and Gail thought she’d have a better time with us”, my mom reassured me.

“When do you leave”, I asked.

“In about an hour”, Gail replied. “Do you know if Bowen is up yet?”, she inquired.

“Yeah, I think so”, I replied, just as Bowen walked into the kitchen.

“Morning”, he yawned, dressed in loose grey sweats and an oversized “Le Tigre” band tee he’d thrifted last summer when I was with him. Liv walked in behind him.

“Are you all packed”, my mom asked her as she plucked an apple from the bowl sitting on the kitchen table. She nodded as she took a bite.

“Packed for what”, Bowen asked as he pulled out a chair and joined me at the table.

“Peaks”, I responded.

“You managed to convince them to let you go”, Bowen asked Liv with jealousy. He had also pleaded with Gail as a kid to let him come on the Peaks trips, to no avail. Liv nodded with a smug expression. “Very impressive”, he said, offering her a fist bump, which she gladly returned. Only Bowen could get my sister to fist bump. “Bit early to be packing for that, though, isn’t it”, he quipped.

“We’re leaving today”, Gail informed him.

“Today? As in, today today?” Bowen’s surprise was evident.

“No, as in today tomorrow”, Liv responded sarcastically replied, leaving the kitchen and heading back to her room. Bowen made a face at her. 
”That wasn’t even that funny”, he retorted.

“Stupid questions get stupid answers”, she shot back before disappearing from view. Bowen turned to me. “There’s a mutual respect there”, he remarked.

“Keep telling yourself that”, I teased.

“Why’re you going now, though”, Bowen asked his mom, prompting her to explain about the inclement weather predicted to hit during their usual Peaks Island time. Once she and my mom had left the kitchen to go finish packing, Bowen looked at me with urgency.

“What’re we going to do”, he asked, referring to the party we secretly throw every year the week our moms usually went to Peaks. It had started as a small kickback when we were 18, but over the years, it gained notoriety throughout the small town. Our friends began bringing their friends, who brought even more people, compounding it into the sizable shindig it is now. Bowen and his band had played on the beach behind his house the last two years, essentially turning it into a small concert we hosted annually. It also helped that there wasn’t much for nightlife in Kennebunk, so we and our peers were always desperate for entertainment. Local house parties were always well attended.

“Why don’t we do it this week”, I suggested.

“In three days?”, Bowen seemed incredulous. We always did it in the middle of the week so we had time to clean up and recuperate before our moms got back.

“We can do it”, I reassured him. He nodded, adopting a serious expression.

“I’ll text Leo and Omar and start figuring it out”, he said in a business-like tone.

“I’ll help however I can after I go to the gym”, I said, standing up. Bowen’s eyes appraised me.

“How far away are you from the weight your coach wants you at?”, he asked.

“He wants me at 230, ideally, but, you know, if I can go further than that he’d be ecstatic”.

“What’re you at now”, he asked.

“225 as of this morning”, I replied, a hint of pride leaking through in my voice. “Though I’m not

sure what percent of it is muscle”, I admitted.

“It looks like a large percent”, Bowen said. I felt my face blush a bit from the praise.

“Thanks, man”, I said, as I walked out of the kitchen feeling awkward, “see you later”, I called to

him as I internally cringed that I’d called him “man”. I only used bro-speak when I was nervous.

I wished my mom and Gail a safe trip and left for the nearest gym, which was the Planet Fitness about 20 minutes away. It was small and not ideal, but it’d work for the next 29 days. I began stretching and warming up my muscles as I got into the zone. At first, I’d resented having to lift so often when my coach put me on a stricter routine, but I’d come to really enjoy the peace of mind it offered. For an hour and a half every day I didn’t have to think about assignments, work, unrequited love, or life in general. It was just me, music, and exertion.

I started with some light reps on the bench press to warm my chest up, and then I got to work. I started with the heaviest I’d gone last chest day but stopped after the eighth rep. It felt much easier than it had last week. I could’ve gone on for 10 more reps, and Coach’s rule was, “If you can do more than 8 reps you’re not lifting heavy enough”, so I added more weight until it was challenging again. It was like that with all the exercises I did. I’d do my usual max, and then have to add more because it was too light. By the halfway point of the workout, I was giddy with joy at breaking so many PRs in one day. I pushed myself harder than usual, motivated by the tangible progress. I tried to dress modestly and steer clear of gym-rat attire, but I found myself wishing I was wearing a stringer tee instead of a t-shirt as the pump in my chest began to cause the fabric to feel tight and uncomfortable.

I saw myself in the bathroom mirror as I took a break to pee and couldn’t help but feel egotistical. It wasn’t just my chest that was pumped, every muscle on me looked swollen, even my legs. Part of me wondered how that could be, but most of me was checking myself out. I fought the urge to start flexing, reminding myself that I did not want to turn into one of those vain, douchey gym bros. The pump continued to increase throughout the last half of my workout, and I was having difficulty not getting turned on. As my legs swelled larger and took up more room in my shorts, the fabric was beginning to rub against my dick. Pair that with the increased testosterone and blood flow from the lifting, and with every rep I could feel the pressure in my balls increase as they got fuller and fuller from the stimulation. The act of lifting itself started to feel erotic. I put even more weight on the machine I was using and started powering through it. The exertion felt too good, my dick inflated rapidly to its full 7 inches in seconds, although, it felt larger than it normally did. Even my erection had a pump. I entered a daze as I kept going. Sweat poured down my body as I pushed my muscles, which were reaching fatigue, to keep going. I could feel precum leaking from my dick with every flex. With one last big rep, I released the weight and fell back, panting from fatigue and lust. My balls felt like they were about to explode. I was sitting right at the edge of an orgasm. I looked down and balked at how obvious my boner was in my tight shorts. It looked massive and was throbbing to the side towards my hip. My two engorged balls looked larger than usual as well and were being squeezed within the cramped space. That broke the spell. I may as well have been naked and jerking off in public.

I looked around in a panic to see if anyone could see me, but thankfully, the gym was completely dead except for the teenager up front at the counter, and they were on their phone, oblivious to anything happening around them. I went to stand up and bee-line for the locker room, but had to immediately sit back down as the simple movement nearly made me bust. I could barely hold it back as I tried to stifle the groan I made from how good it felt. My dick angrily spewed pre in protest to being repressed. “Fuck”, I whispered to myself as I panicked more. I started thinking of the least attractive things I could come up with in an effort to cause the boner to go down. My imagination resisted it, though, as my dick pushed its own agenda on my psyche. I had to stop looking down at my dick because just seeing how large it looked, and how pumped my muscles looked, was nearly too much. I looked up at the ceiling and started taking slow, deep breaths. I counted them in my head as I went. Slowly, my dick began to soften. Thoughts of Bowen attempted to take center stage, but I managed to force them back. The mark on my leg began to sting again, but I welcomed it this time because the pain helped dilute the lust.

I reduced the erection to a half-chub through sheer force of will and made a break for the locker room. I knew I was on borrowed time as I felt my dick begin to lengthen again as the fabric of my shorts rubbed against it. Thankfully, the bathroom was also deserted. I turned a shower on, not bothering to take off my clothes, and pulled my shorts down halfway to release my dick. It sprang straight up, already fully hard again. It was full as a tick and looked nearly purple from how engorged it was. I genuinely worried it might explode. My balls were pulled tight up in my sack and were bloated with how much they were holding. It took no more than 2 strokes before cum shot from me like lava exploding from a volcano. I couldn’t contain the moans as I leaned against the wall as the sensations swept me up.

With my self-control in tatters, my brain was free to conjure up the most lewd thoughts of Bowen it could conceive. I sat privy as the amateur porn it had us starring in played in my head. I shuddered from the pleasure of imagining what it’d feel like to have that monster dick of his inside me. To have him worship my muscles as he filled me up. “Fuck!”, I groaned as the orgasm gave a final surge and began to die down. I’d absolutely slathered the walls of the shower with cum. The smell of it reeked in the steam. I did my best to wash it off and hurried out to leave before someone inevitably came in. I looked down at my dick as it got soft. I’d had a 4-inch softie since I was 16, and I knew the flaccid thing I was looking at now was larger than that. And my balls hadn’t gone down from their bloated size, even though I’d emptied them. I looked in the mirror and felt a mixture of fear and awe at the pump of my muscles. I stepped on the scale in the locker room. A chill came over me as the number 235 flashed on the screen. I weighed 217 only two days ago. I’d weighed 225 a few hours ago. I’d chalked that initial increase up to normal weight fluctuation, but looking at my physique in the mirror now made it irrefutable that it was muscle, not water, that I’d been putting on. Gaining 18 pounds of muscle in two days is impossible, even on drugs. With wide eyes, I turned from the mirror and looked back at the scale. It read 236 now. I pulled out my phone and saw it was already 2:30. I needed to go help Bowen with party planning. “Just go and forget about it”, I thought to myself. “This scale is probably broken”, I theorized as I turned back to the screen. It read 237 now. “Definitely broken”, I said out loud as I stepped off, grabbed my stuff, and left feeling much better. That had to be it. It was the only logical explanation. I had freaked out over nothing.

(Bowen’s Perspective)

“See you later man”, Oliver called, shooting me an adorable smile before he disappeared from view. I felt my eyes narrow as I watched him leave for the gym. “He only uses bro-speak when he’s nervous”, I thought to myself. I thought maybe I could try flirting with him, and see if he reciprocates to test the waters. He had brushed it off though, and it had made him uncomfortable. Or, maybe I was bad at flirting and he hadn’t even realized. That was more likely. “It looks like a large percent”, I said, mocking the compliment I’d given him. I’d thought it was very smooth until I’d said it out loud. I put it out of my head. There were more important things to fixate on. I pulled out my phone and went to the group message with me and my friends/bandmates Leo and Omar.

“Change of plans, if we’re doing the kickback it’s gotta happen in 3 days”, I texted. Leo responded in seconds,

“WHAT???”

“Why??”, Omar asked.

“My mom decided to go to Peaks today instead of usual time”.

“And you’re only telling us NOW?? ðŸ˜
“, Leo responded.

“She literally just told me. Like 10 minutes ago”.

“How rude of her to not respect the secret party we throw at her house every year”, Omar joked.

“Can you both be at my place around 2:30 to start preparing?”, I asked.

They both liked the message.

“We’re heading out”, my mom said as she walked up and gave me a hug. “Be good. We’re less than an hour away if you need us”, she said. That was her usual half-reassuring, half-threatning farewell she always gave before she left. “Love you”, I said as they walked out the front door.

Now I had a couple hours to kill. I went to my room and started mindlessly strumming on my guitar, but quickly grew bored of that. I tried writing some new material to distract me until Omar and Leo arrived, but I was having writer’s block. My mind kept going back to Oliver, and I didn’t want to write about him. To make matters worse the mark on my leg started hurting again. I tried to ignore both the stinging and the thoughts of Oliver, but after an hour of staring at a blank piece of paper, I gave up. I sighed from the frustration and fell backward on my bed. The stinging was still ongoing, which worried me some because it had never gone on this long without subsiding. I considered going to a doctor but disregarded the idea. They would just tell me I’d have to wait for it to heal if it was a jellyfish sting of some kind. I felt my dick shift within my sweats, and, with nothing else to do, reached a hand under the waistband and started playing with it.

It had felt like it was already beginning to get hard, but what I wrapped my hand around was totally soft. I pulled my sweats halfway down to appraise it. It was totally floppy, yes, but also larger than it was supposed to be. “No way”, I said as I jumped up and grabbed the ruler from my desk. My jaw dropped when I saw that my dick was now 7 1/2 inches soft instead of its usual 7 inches. “Jesus”, I said in disgust as I let it go. It flopped down heavily, slapping against my thigh. “7 inches wasn’t freaky enough?”, I asked, looking down at the third leg. I began stroking it out of morbid curiosity to see what the new 9 1/2 boner would look like. It began to inflate, steadily moving up my thigh as it fought gravity to stand up straight. It reached the point above my belly button where it used to stop and then continued to thicken and lengthen until it was nearly halfway up my stomach now. I was turned on by the sight in spite of myself. I was about to start stroking it when the sound of the front door opening made my stomach drop. I grabbed my phone and saw that it was already 2:30. I’d lost track of time. “Shit”, I panicked as I yanked my sweats back up.

“Yo Bo”, I heard Leo call in the hallway, “I’m here”.

I looked down helplessly at the outline of the inflated beast in my sweats. It nearly wrapped around my hip. Sirens went off in my head as I heard his footsteps walking toward my room. I sat on my bed, grabbed my laptop, placed it over my lap, and prayed to every god I could think of that it would go down quickly. Leo knocked on the open door and he peeked his head in. “Can I come in”, he asked.

“Yeah, hey”, I greeted him.

“Hey”, he returned, smiling. Besides Oliver, Leo was my oldest friend. We’d known each other since fourth grade.

His full name was Leonardo. His mom had named him after her favorite actor, Leonardo DiCaprio. He had disliked being called Leonardo in elementary school and middle school, always quick to correct teachers who would say his full name during attendance. He confessed to me when we were 14 that he’d been anxious that being called Leonardo would cause him to stand out and get him teased, so he’d opted for a more “normal”, name, but that he regretted it. As we entered high school he embraced his given name, and, as he left his awkward phase, it began to really suit him. He grew into his bone structure, shot from 5’5 to 6’0, and became the unexpected heartthrob of our grade. He had a movie star quality to his looks, a nod to his namesake, combined with an approachable boy-next-door charm. He also had a very likable personality, a byproduct of not being cool in middle school. His lighthearted, goofy disposition made him a very pleasant person to be around. Needless to say, he was and is very successful in the dating pool. He demanded everyone else call him Leonardo after that, but still liked me, Omar, and Oliver to call him Leo. “It’s a reminder of how long we’ve been friends”, he’d told me and Omar when we’d asked him about it.

“Is Omar with you?”, I asked.

“Yeah he should be-”, he started to say as the sound of the front door opening and shutting again interrupted him. “-right behind me”, he finished as Omar’s tall figure appeared in my bedroom doorway.

“Sup”, he greeted us, smiling.

Omar is one of those people that is naturally cool without trying. I saw him for the first time sophomore year when I heard one of my favorite Radiohead songs playing through his headphones in homeroom. I had such a friendship crush on him, but couldn’t work up the nerve to talk to him. Omar isn’t exactly the poster child for approachability when you first meet him. Not that he’s doing it on purpose or anything, and definitely not in a bad way. It’s just that he’s got this confident, individualistic vibe that sort of keeps people at arm’s length, and he towers over most people at 6’4. You feel like you need permission to say “hey”.

What eventually broke the ice and caused us to become friends was him slipping on a chicken nugget in the lunch room. I, who had been standing behind him in line, caught him from falling. We started talking about our similar music tastes, he told me he played drums, I told him how me and Leo were looking for a drummer to start a band, and the rest is history. He had laughed his head off when I told him how I and many people at school perceived him.

“Whatcha doing?”, Leo asked as he sat beside me on my bed.

“Nothing much”, I said in a bit of an anxious tone as the motion of him sitting beside me made my dick throb.

“Oliver here?”, Omar asked. My dick throbbed again at the mention of him.

“He’s at the gym”.

“I forget he’s like, a professional wrestler now”, Leo remarked.

“Wish he lived closer, I’ve always wanted to see him in action”, Omar said.

“Same! He could just put on his singlet and beat us up”, Leo joked. Throb. The image of Oliver in his wrestler’s singlet was not helping my cause. “Ok, let’s get this setlist worked out”, I said, desperate for a change in topic away from Oliver, only to be thwarted when the sound of him walking through the front door echoed down the hallway. “Speak of the devil”, Omar murmured ominously. He always teased Oliver with redhead jokes. Oliver appeared in the doorway, causing all 3 of us to collectively drop our jaws. He was shirtless, wearing only some 4-inch workout shorts that looked two sizes too small for him. He looked massive, and the shorts showcased an amble bulge at the front. My dick felt like it might start short-circuiting. Omar whistled in appreciation. “Je-e-sus dude”, Leo said as he got up and walked closer to Oliver to get a better look. “Haha, hey guys”, Oliver greeted them, uncomfortable with their praise.

“Look at you stud”, Omar complimented him. Oliver’s face flushed pink.

“You gotta get me some of whatever your coach is giving you”, Leo teased him.

“You know I wouldn’t mess with that stuff. This is au naturel”, he said playfully.

“How much have you put on”, Omar asked in an awestruck voice. Oliver shrugged his swole shoulders.

“I think I was around 205 last summer. I’m 225 now soo, around 10lbs, give or take”.

“You’re only 225?”, Leo asked.

“I don’t normally look this swole, the pump from my workout hasn’t gone away yet”, he said in a nonchalant voice that sounded a bit forced.

“That’s some pump”, I said and had to clear my throat from how dry it was.

“Yeah, it was an insane workout today”, he said with a hint of evasiveness.

“Man, I’ve been working out all summer trying to bulk up, but I don’t look like that”, Leo complained. “I wish you were my dad”, he said wistfully.

“Are you coming onto me”, Oliver asked, half-joking, half-confused.

“Not daddy, dad. Like I want your genetics”, Leo clarified. Omar laughed.

“But, now that you bring it up”, Leo began, suggestively putting his arms around Oliver’s shoulders.

“Later babe, I gotta go rinse off from working out”, Oliver said, running with the bit. Leo and Oliver’s dynamic had always been playfully flirty, and Leo was straight (just very, very comfortable with himself). I’d always laughed at their homoerotic bits, so I was taken aback when jealousy flared up in me intensely at seeing Leo put his arms around Oliver like that. Angry thoughts lashed out at Leo in my head. “Give us a flex before you go”, Leo pleaded.

“No”, Oliver laughed.

“Aww come on”, Leo whined. “Give the people what they want”.

“Flex, flex, flex”, Omar started chanting. Leo quickly joined in. I sat quietly as my body felt like it was on fire. Oliver rolled his eyes but gave in. “Fine”, he said, as he lifted one arm and quickly flexed a bicep. It bunched up and peaked impressively. Omar and Leo whistled and cheered as he walked away. “You can tell he’s a southern boy from those guns he carries”, Omar joked. I wasn’t really listening to him, though, as my attention was held by the way Oliver’s ass moved in his shorts as he walked away. My memory of seeing his ass the last night when we got drunk was hazy, but I don’t think it looked that muscular and round. He definitely hadn’t looked that muscular when I saw him with his shirt off this morning. Could a pump really make someone look that much bigger? I started absent-mindedly rubbing my leg as the mark began stinging again.”Whoa”, Omar said, noticing the mark as I rubbed it, “what happened to your leg”, he asked in concern. “A jellyfish sting, or something”, was all I said. I was not in the mood to rehash the events of last night again. “A jellyfish did that?”, Leo asked, skeptical.

“Yeah, or I mean, I think”.

“You don’t know? “, Omar asked.

“I just woke up with it”, I said. They both looked at me in confusion, silently waiting for more context. I sighed. “Me and Bowen got drunk and went swimming last night. We woke up on the beach this morning with marks like this, but we can’t remember what happened, or how we got them”.

“Do you need to go see a doctor?”, Leo asked.

“Nah, it doesn’t even hurt”, I lied. I was more worried at the moment about my still persisting boner. Seeing Oliver half-naked had sent it into overdrive. It flexed angrily against my hip, leaking pre. It felt bigger than it had before Oliver had walked in. I hoped that was just due to me not being used to the new size.

The first 15 minutes of the drive home from the gym, I tried to ignore how my body felt just a bit more cramped in the front seat of the car than it had on the drive there. It felt like I was taking up just a bit more space than usual—like the fabric of my shirt and shorts were just a little tighter, as if more of it was required to cover me. The number 237 from the gym scale kept flashing in my head—blinking incessantly like it had on the screen. “Get a hold of yourself, just take the shirt off,” I mumbled as I came to a stop at a red light and peeled it off. I looked forward, trying to ignore how I could see my pecs jutting out more than usual. The car stopped next to me honked, and I looked over to see two girls staring from a Jeep with no doors. They had a Californian look to them—maybe they were summering here as well. The one in the passenger seat leaned out and said something, but I couldn’t hear with my window up. “What?” I asked after rolling it down.

“I said, respectfully, you are gorgeous.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said, giving a shy smile as my cheeks flushed.

“Can I give you my number?” she asked. She was pretty, even beautiful, but all I could notice were her face’s similarities to Bowen’s. Her eyes were the same shade as his, and her lips turned up at the corners like his did. “I’m gay,” I found myself saying before I could stop myself.

“Oh,” the girl responded, sounding slightly disappointed.

“Sorry,” I said.

“No! Don’t be. That explains why you’re so hot,” she said.

I smiled in return. “Me and some friends are having a party this Wednesday. You should come! Some of my friends are single, straight, and hot,” I said. Her eyes lit up.

“Absolutely.” I gave her my number right as the light turned green.

“See ya, king,” she called as her friend sped off.

I was late to hit the gas as I tried to collect my thoughts, causing the car behind me to honk impatiently. I’d never told anyone I was gay before, and now I’d told a total stranger. I didn’t feel horrible, though, like I’d expected I would from all the times I’d thought about telling someone. A light, freeing feeling spread through me. It was one of those rare moments where I felt 100% present in my body. A huge smile lit up my face as what felt like years of pent-up emotion flowed out of me. It gave me hope and made a future where I live entirely as myself seem easily possible.

The smile stayed on my face the rest of the drive back, and it grew even wider when I saw Leo’s white Camry parked in the driveway as I pulled in. I got out quickly, eager to see him and Omar. I could hear their voices traveling down the hallway as I came in the front door. I rushed down, not thinking about the fact I was shirtless until I stood in the doorway of Bowen’s bedroom. I immediately became self-conscious as I saw all three of them turn to me and collectively drop their jaws at the sight of my half-naked body. Omar whistled in appreciation, and Leo stared at me like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Je-e-sus, dude,” Leo choked out as he got up from Bowen’s bed to walk closer and take a look. “Haha, hey guys,” I said awkwardly.

“Look at you, stud,” Omar complimented me. The way he looked at me made my cheeks blush. Omar was one of those people who flirted without meaning to. He’d casually talk to you with his sensual voice and intense eyes, and you’d walk away from the conversation with your thoughts scrambled. Leo’s gaze made me equally as flustered. His eyes were wide as he looked me up and down. “You gotta get me some of whatever your coach is giving you,” he said. I figured he was teasing, but I still felt the need to refute it. I had worked hard for what I’d put on and didn’t want any of the credit being given to supplements.

“You know I wouldn’t mess with that stuff. This is au naturel,” I said as I gestured to my full chest. My finger made contact with skin, and I looked down puzzled before realizing that it was because they took up much more space forward than I was used to.

“How much have you put on?” Omar asked in an awestruck tone. An anxious feeling fluttered in my stomach as the number 237 flashed in my head again. I couldn’t make myself say what the scale had shown me at the gym out loud. It could’ve really been broken for all I knew, so there was no point in saying a number that wasn’t true. I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, and watched as all three pairs of eyes stared in awe as the mass moved up and down. “I think I was around 205 last summer. I’m 225 now, so around 10 pounds, give or take.” I realized after I’d said it that 205 plus 10 wasn’t even 225, but I didn’t bother to correct myself. The school hadn’t given me a scholarship for mathematics.

“You’re only 225?” Leo asked, sounding skeptical.

“I don’t normally look this swole; the pump from my workout hasn’t gone away yet,” I said, trying to sound casual, but even I could hear how forced it was.

“That’s some pump,” Bowen said in a hoarse voice. I was thankful he’d finally said something. I couldn’t figure out the emotion behind the way he’d been looking at me since I walked in. He’d initially looked shocked, same as Leo and Omar, but then he looked agitated and guarded.

“Yeah, it was an insane workout today,” I responded with a light laugh. We made eye contact for a moment, but then he pointedly looked away.

“Man, I’ve been working out all summer trying to bulk up, but I don’t look like that,” Leo complained. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that working out for one summer wasn’t nearly enough time to get to where I was. “I wish you were my dad,” he said wistfully.

“Are you coming onto me?” I asked, half-joking, half-confused.

“Not daddy, dad. Like I want your genetics,” he clarified. Omar laughed.

“But now that you bring it up,” Leo began, suggestively putting his arms around my shoulders. I rolled my eyes but smiled.

“Later, babe. I gotta go rinse off from working out,” I said, running with the bit. Leo had started getting playfully flirty with me when he got into shape. Not really sure why. I felt uneasy from the way Bowen was watching us. He was glaring at Leo with an expression I’d never seen on him before. I stepped out from Leo’s embrace and started to go upstairs to wash off.

“Give us a flex,” Leo pleaded.

“No,” I laughed.

“Aww, come on,” Leo whined. “Give the people what they want.”

Omar started chanting “flex, flex, flex,” and Leo quickly joined in. I watched them with amusement, and then my eyes went to Bowen, expecting him to have joined in on the chant. Instead, he sat rigid, looking bewildered, conflicted, and a little guilty. He was so mercurial today. I’d known him long enough to usually be able to read him well, but today he was acting unlike himself. I wanted to talk to him alone and ask if he was okay. I realized that Omar and Leo were still chanting.

“Fine,” I gave in, and quickly lifted my left arm and flexed it halfheartedly. I was surprised at the impressive peak it made even with me not trying all that hard. It was blatantly larger and fuller than it had been when I arrived here only a few days ago. The number 237 flashed in my head again. I shot them a quick smile as they whooped and cheered, then left the room to collect myself. I heard Leo say, “You can tell he’s a southern boy from those guns he carries,” and I cracked a smile in spite of my anxiety. It was a good joke. Also a bit tone-deaf, which summed Leo up well.

I was taking the last step up the stairs when I heard a tearing sound at the same time I felt a weird sensation along my body. I looked down to see that my gym shorts had ripped from the tugging motion of walking upward. I balked as I saw how massive my legs looked. As I walked the rest of the way to my room, everything about me suddenly felt a bit off-kilter, as if the dimensions of every muscle had changed a tiny bit. The movement of my chest shaking as I walked seemed a bit more in my vision. The feeling of my ass moving carried more weight to it. The feeling of my back muscles moving seemed to carry more width to it. My arms felt a bit more spread away from my body than they had a second ago. My steps seemed to thud a bit harder as each foot carried me forward. My body felt wider. I didn’t want to think about what all that implied.

I got to my room and pulled the shorts off, ignoring how much of a struggle it was to get them down, and turned my head away so I wouldn’t see my reflection in the mirror as I walked over to the shower and turned it on. The sound of the water falling helped me calm down and realize I was being irrational. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look in the mirror, only to wish I hadn’t. Somehow, I looked even more pumped than I had in the gym mirror, which made no sense—pumps don’t last this long after a workout. The possibility that the gym scale wasn’t broken began to sink in. I slowly turned to confront the scale on the floor behind me like it was the villain in a horror movie. Determined to confirm or deny this bizarre growth, I stepped onto it, noticing my feet seemed to take up more space than usual. I watched the little line blink, indicating it was reading, and then inhaled sharply when the number popped up on the screen. It wasn’t 237. The screen showed 241. I stepped off the scale with my mind reeling. The likelihood of both scales being broken coincidentally as I was looking larger and larger seemed unlikely. Though it defied logic, I couldn’t deny it: I was putting on muscle at an unnatural rate.

As I studied my reflection, I imagined my coach’s reaction next semester—suspicion at first, then ecstasy when my blood tests came back clean. I had to be the biggest guy on the team now, except for a few secretly juicing monsters. And I didn’t look bad; I looked insane, like a unit. Wasn’t this what I had been working toward all year? Maybe I just had freaky good genetics. No need to panic.

“Yo, Oli,” Leo shouted from downstairs. “What?” I called back. “We’re gonna start setting up.” “K, I’ll be down soon.”

I quickly showered and threw on some stretchy cotton shorts and a baggy tee. The shorts were so tight around my legs and ass they looked like skinny jeans. The shirt was still somewhat loose, but my muscles were clearly puffed up underneath, much more than the last time I’d worn it when I was 24 pounds lighter. Thankfully, the shirt hem still covered my bulge, though only barely. I pulled the shirt up to check it in the mirror, marveling at how much larger it had grown. The increased weight of it was noticeable when I walked, and I already felt backed up despite emptying a load twice today. I briefly considered taking care of it again before helping the guys set up but decided against it. It wouldn’t be fair to them if I was cranking one out while they did all the work.

(Bowen’s POV)

I finally managed to get myself under control, but even then, it was still a lot to handle—7.5 inches of organ instead of the usual 9.5. I stuffed the beast back into its cage (compression underwear), slipped into the loosest pair of sweatpants I owned, and threw on the baggy tee I’d worn to the beach the other night. I nodded in approval as my reflection looked decent. It wouldn’t be as easy to hide that I wasn’t feeling right, though. My emotions had been running high all day, and it somehow seemed tied to the increased size of my tool. I pulled back the waistband of my pants and underwear to glance down. I couldn’t deny that it was impressive, and I was self-aware enough to know I was whining about something most guys would trade their left nut to have. Damn, even my balls seemed a bit larger. I could smell the mix of precum and sweat coming from it. The python began to stir, the scent turning me on, so I let the waistband snap back with a thwap and quickly left my room before things got out of hand again.

“Yo, Oli!” I heard Leo shout up the stairs as I stepped into the hallway.
”What?” Oliver called back from his room. His voice sounded deeper than usual, more than just him projecting to cover the distance to Leo.
”We’re gonna start setting up,” Leo replied.
”Okay, I’ll be down soon.”
Leo turned to me with his usual smile, though it wavered slightly when he saw me. “You okay?” he asked.
The answer was no, but I didn’t feel like explaining that I had a crush on my best friend. Plus, I was still annoyed with him for joking around with Oliver. I knew it was irrational and unfair to take my jealousy out on him, though, so I kept that to myself.
”Yeah, I’m fine. We just have a lot to do,” I said instead. Leo patted me on the back.
”We’ll get it done,” he said optimistically as we headed to the back door. The smell of the sea and the temperate weather lifted my mood a bit as we began setting up.

We had a gazebo in the backyard that we used as our stage. I started unboxing and hanging up string lights, but eventually handed the job off to Omar—he was the only one tall enough to wrap the lights around the top. “Watch out, coming through,” a voice grunted behind me. I turned to see Oliver carrying one of the large amps we’d hook up to play sound. “You got it?” I asked, reaching out to help support the weight if needed.
”Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, though,” he said, continuing over to the gazebo. I watched him carry it with relative ease—something that had always been a two-person job for us in the past. His muscles flexed as he carried the load, looking much larger than when he’d first arrived.

Normally, it was easy as breathing to talk to him, but the tension from my feelings had been cranked up to ten. Oliver set the amp down where Omar was still stringing lights in an aesthetic pattern. I watched as Omar said something to Oliver, playfully feeling his biceps. Oliver smiled, and it looked like he blushed a bit.
”Wanna help me set up the tables?” Leo asked, walking over to me.
”Hm? Oh, sure,” I replied. We set up the fold-out tables, and then started on various other tasks, falling into the familiar routine we’d had for years.

An hour and a half later, while I was setting up the tech for the stage, a loud grumble off to my right shattered my concentration. I glanced over to see Oliver with a hand on his stomach.
”Bennet’s break?” I asked. He nodded.
”It’s Bennet’s o’clock,” he said with a grin. I returned the grin, feeling some of our usual dynamic return.
”Bennet’s break!” I called, cupping my hands around my mouth to make sure my voice carried to Omar and Leo on the other side of the yard.
”Thank God!” Leo called back. “I’m starving.”

Bennet’s Sandwich Shop was a little place about two minutes from my house, and its proximity made it one of our favorite places to eat. That, and the fact that a lot of the restaurants in Kennebunkport were built for tourists—expensive, fancy, and requiring reservations or at least a 30-minute wait for a table. Bennet’s, however, was for the locals.

“I invited someone to the party earlier today,” Oliver said as we sat outside at one of the little tables at Bennet’s.
”Who?” I asked.
He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Dunno. Tourists, I think.”
”Says the tourist,” I replied, teasing.
”Hey, I feel like I’m an honorary Kennebunk-ean at this point,” Oliver complained.
”Do you like Kennebunk?” Omar asked.
”Of course,” Oliver responded.
”That’s how you know you’re not a Kennebunkean,” Omar replied, making Leo and me laugh.
”The mark of any true Kennebunk local is that they want to get out of Kennebunk,” Leo said.
”Well, we will be for good soon,” I said. It got quiet for a moment as the inevitable end of our summers here loomed over us. One day we’d all settle in different places, with families or obligations keeping us there, even in the summers.
”Man, time passes so fast, you know?” Leo said, furrowing his brow. “Seems like yesterday we were teenagers sitting at this same table.” The breeze kicked up at that moment, stirring up the same briny, salty smell mixed with seaweed that had blown around us back then, too. I looked around at the little sandwich shop that had stayed the same while I’d changed.
”Speak for yourself,” Oliver said. “I expect you all here every summer, even 60 years from now, or I’ll find you and drag you here myself.”
”Deal,” I said with a grin as I chewed a bite of my food.

“So how’d you meet the tourists?” I asked Oliver, steering the conversation to a less nostalgic topic.
”We were at a red light,” Oliver replied.
”Huh?” Leo said.
”They were talking to me at the light.”
”You mean flirting with you,” Omar said. “Nobody just talks to someone at a red light unless they’re flirting. Or cussing you out in road rage.” Oliver blushed a bit, confirming it was the former.
”Well—yeah, at first she was,” Oliver admitted.
”Cussing or flirting?” Leo asked.
”Flirting,” Oliver responded.
”What did you say to her?” I asked. My voice didn’t come out as casual as I’d intended. Oliver looked a bit nervous.
”I…um,” he stammered, taking a sip of his water to stall. “I told her I was…” We waited silently for him to finish.
”That I was gay. So, you know, I wasn’t interested,” he finished. He looked up at all three of us, lingering a second longer on me before dropping his eyes back down to his sandwich. I stared at him, processing the bomb he’d just dropped.
”You’re gay?” Leo asked. Oliver nodded, chewing a massive bite of his sandwich.
”How long have you known?” Omar asked. Oliver shrugged and, after swallowing, said,
”A while, but growing up in the Bible Belt made it harder to come to terms with it, you know?”
”It means a lot that you trusted us enough to tell us, man. I appreciate you, and love you,” Leo said, patting Oliver on the shoulder.
”Not to steal your thunder, but if it makes you feel a little less alone in this, I’m bi,” Omar said. Oliver nodded like that didn’t surprise him.
”Makes sense. Bi men are always hot and mysterious,” he replied. Omar winked at him in response.
”Well, I’m straight, but if I were into guys, I’d be into all three of you for sure,” Leo said, making Omar and Oliver chuckle.

They all turned to stare at me. I’d been silent since Oliver came out, and I was panicking a bit because I knew I needed to say something. He was my best friend, so I should’ve been at the forefront of saying supportive things, but I was so wrapped up in my head that I couldn’t find the words. Before, my main excuse for holding back from confessing was the chance he wasn’t interested in guys, but now that had been ripped away from me in one fell swoop. I met Oliver’s eyes and saw an openness, a vulnerability, that I’d never seen in them before. The words I really wanted to say to him started to form, but then at the last second, I changed course.
”I’m glad for you, man,” I said with a smile. He smiled back, but there was a look of resignation in his eyes now. Then, two things happened at the same time: the mark on my leg started burning incessantly, and Oliver jumped in his seat as the sound of fabric tearing was heard. My leg jerked up automatically, and I clutched it, groaning in pain. Leo and Omar moved over to offer help.
”It doesn’t look like it’s faded any,” Omar observed with concern.
”Bowen said you have one just like it,” Leo said, looking at Oliver. I looked up to see him sitting very rigidly in his seat. His face was beet red. “Is yours hurting too?” I asked. He shook his head. The pain in my leg started to subside after about 10 seconds. I gingerly put my leg back down on the ground.

“Feeling better?” Leo asked. I nodded.

“You need to go see a doctor, like tomorrow,” Leo followed up. I nodded again.

“Did you tear your shorts pulling your leg up?” Omar asked me.

“What? No,” I replied.

“What was that tearing noise?” Omar asked.

“What noise?” Leo asked. Omar moved back over to his seat, closer to Oliver.

“Sounded like something tearing—oh my god,” Omar said as his eyes drifted down to Oliver’s lower body before he looked back up, biting the inside of his lip, trying to hold back a laugh.

“What?” Leo asked, leaning to look where Omar had been looking at Oliver. He burst out in laughter.

“Stop laughing!” Oliver said in a panicked voice. Leo put a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, but his body still shook with it. “I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding all that sorry.

“What?” I asked, annoyed to be left out of whatever was happening. Oliver looked at me.

“My pants ripped,” he said quietly. Omar started laughing out loud now, and it was contagious enough that Leo joined in again.

“How bad is it? Let me see,” Omar said. Oliver started to stand up but stopped halfway when another tearing sound was heard. We all watched in silence as his pants fluttered off from behind him, hanging down in front, held up only by the girth of his thighs. Laughter tumbled out of all of us in response, except for Oliver, who looked mortified. He had his hands clutched in front to hide his bulge. I stopped laughing as lsut gripped me hard. His basket was so large it looked like it took up all the space of both his hands just to cover it. He quickly sat back down to better conceal himself. “Oh my god,” he said as he put his head in his hands.

“Those shorts were fighting for their life,” Omar said as he looked down at Oliver’s now underwear-clad backside. He bit the inside of his lip again, but it didn’t seem like it was to hold back laughter this time. The lust gripped me even harder rom seeing Oliver’s legs and ass in just compression shorts. Every muscle on him looked swollen to the max. The mark on my leg started to hurt again, although thankfully not as bad as it had a moment ago.

Oliver sucked in a breath, looking down at himself with panic. It looked like all his muscles bulged up bigger with the movement. “Dude, I swear you look bigger every time I see you without clothes on,” Leo said in an awestruck voice. Oliver let out a nervous laugh.

“Well, that’s crazy because I’m not,” he replied with a little too much force. It was silent for a beat.

“Well, you have no pants on, so we should get out of here,” Omar said.

“Yes, please,” Oliver said as he stood up. My dick began to inflate as I watched his massive ass move as he quickly strode to the car. I got up quickly before it would be impossible to. Leo stood up as I did, but Omar stayed sat. “I’ll catch up in a second”, he said. I saw him adjust himself in my peripheral as me and Leo walked away. So, I wasn’t just imagining things. Omar was also into Oliver.

My mood darkened considerably as we made our way to the car. My inner turmoil became more turbulent as the feelings I had for Oliver became harder to subdue, especially with the jealousy. I watched Oliver’s back, seated in the passenger seat in front of me, appear to become even broader than before. He must’ve just adjusted how he was sitting, or something. I had a raging boner and a burning leg the whole ride back as I looked at his wide, muscular back the whole ride home. The longer I looked, the bigger he seemed to get.

(Oliver’s Perspective)

I paced around my room, my thoughts racing. As soon as we got back from Bennett’s, I rushed to weigh myself. The scale confirmed what I’d felt since my shorts ripped: “256.” Fifteen pounds heavier than just a few hours ago. I looked it, too—muscles fuller, feeling heavier and stronger. My head spun as I tried to make sense of it.

With a sigh, I sat on my bed, only to groan in pain as my swollen balls got crushed between my massive thighs. I reached down my waistband and repositioned them on top of my legs. They’d grown larger, and just touching them felt erotic from their increasing sensitivity. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down and think rationally. Something had to be causing this. What had changed since it all started? I glanced at the mark on my leg, still as vivid as when I’d first noticed it.I opened my laptop, but I had to push it farther away than usual because my chest was obstructing my view. Hesitantly, I typed, “jellyfish sting muscle growth” into the search bar, feeling ridiculous.

Nothing relevant came up. For a moment, I thought I’d found something, but it was just a story from a fetish site. “What is a ‘Metabod’?” I muttered, curiosity pulling me to read further. But before I could, Bowen’s voice startled me from the doorway.

“Hey,” he called. “Sorry,” he added when I jumped.

“It’s okay,” I said quickly, trying to close my laptop as casually as possible.

“What were you reading?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing important,” I replied.

“I can go if you’re busy.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I reassured him. “What’s up?”

He hesitated before speaking. It seemed like he changed course on what he was going to say right as he started speaking. “I...just wanted to ask about your sting… or whatever this is,” he said, glancing at my leg.

“Oh,” I replied.

“Mine was hurting earlier at Bennett’s, you know, so just wanted to check if you’re okay.”

“Mine wasn’t hurting then, but it has still been flaring up off and on.”

“Hmm. Okay. Well, guess we just wait and see if anything changes. Maybe I’ll go see a doctor tomorrow” he said, looking nervous and eager to leave.

“Yeah, ok, sounds good,” I agreed.

“Night,” he said.

“Night,” I responded, feeling the sting in my leg flare up as he walked away. Just before he disappeared from view, it looked like he adjusted his pants. I got a brief view of his, what looked like soft, dick. Except, it looked bigger than what I remembered seeing that morning on the beach. Lust and frustration circulated within me.

I fell back on my bed, letting out a frustrated sigh as the thought, “Maybe it’s time to let the idea of being with him go,” lingered in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

My dreams that night were peculiar. I found myself standing on a beach under a glaring full moon, staring out at the seemingly endless expanse of the ocean. In the distance, I noticed a faint pink glow. As it grew closer, the mark on my leg began to burn more intensely. When the glow was just a few feet from shore, it engulfed everything around me, draining all color from the scene except for the pink. The pain in my leg became unbearable, and I cried out as the sand beneath me began to shake from a rumbling behind me. I spun around just in time to see the roof of Bowen’s house explode with a deafening boom, and out of the rubble rose Bowen himself—only he was a giant.

Bowen continued to rise higher and higher out of the house, until with a sudden crash, the back of the house exploded as his massive, ever-expanding dick burst forward. The head of it, now twice my size, slammed into me, knocking the air out of my lungs. Panicked, I grabbed onto the fleshy sides as it pushed me out into the water, closer to the source of the pink glow. The growth stopped when I reached the center of the light, but whatever was causing it was so bright that I couldn’t make out its form. Suddenly, a voice echoed in my head. Though it didn’t form any language, I somehow understood its message: “Say it.”

“S-say what?!” I screamed, my whole body trembling as Bowen’s dick swelled thicker and longer. I struggled to keep my grip as the head of it expanded, spreading my arms wider than they could go.

“You know what,” the presence coldly replied.

“I promise you, I really don’t!” I shouted back, just as Bowen’s dick lurched upward, nearly throwing me off. The massive organ bucked, standing straight up toward the sky. I groaned, my arms straining to hang on as it grew larger once more. Summoning all my strength, I climbed to the top of the head, shakily getting onto my knees and clutching fistfuls of skin on either side. I looked up to see Bowen’s enormous face glaring down at me with an angry expression. He had grown even taller, but his dick was so massive it rested just below the top of his chest.

“SAY IT,” the presence boomed, shaking me from the inside out.

“I-I can’t,” I said, starting to cry. Bowen’s body began to grow again, and he groaned loudly as his dick surged higher, forcing my body to bow down from the force of the wind. His body kept pace with the growth, becoming larger and larger. The head of his dick was now so wide that I couldn’t see the ground on any side of it. The slit was big enough for me to easily fall into. Bowen’s dick had risen to eye level with his massive face. His hands, now three to four times larger than his once-destroyed house, gripped either side of the massive shaft—though they couldn’t even reach halfway around it—and pulled it against his body, bringing me face to face with him.

“Last chance,” the presence softly warned.

I shook with fear and lust as I looked at Bowen, feeling like an ant gazing at a god. I remained silent.

“So be it,” the presence said one last time. Bowen roared loudly, causing me to release my grip to cover my ears. He fell to his knees with a thunderous crash that shook the earth, growing to his full standing height in seconds. The force of it knocked me off him, and I screamed as I plummeted toward the ground hundreds of feet below. His colossal feet loomed closer and closer.

I jerked awake with a gasp, just as I was about to hit the ground. I sat up, panting, and wiped sweat from my forehead. “What the fuck,” I muttered, placing a hand on my chest as my heart raced. I sat there for about eight minutes, trying to slow my breathing, until the last of the anxiety dissipated. But just as I breathed a sigh of relief, a wave of lust washed over me like a tsunami. I pulled back the blanket and realized I had been hard the whole time without noticing. It throbbed incessantly, already slick with pre-cum. Stretching, I groaned as my muscles flexed, blood circulating faster as I lay back down on the bed. I looked down at my dick, feeling a surge of vanity as I admired how my muscles looked from this angle. I had to sit up a bit because my chest was now blocking the view.

I groaned with need, cupping and squeezing my balls, feeling how full they were. They’d grown so large that they didn’t fit in one hand anymore. I spit in my free hand and began stroking my shaft. My head fell back, eyes rolling up in pleasure as my balls pulled up, ready to release. Just as I was about to climax, a knock on my bedroom door pulled me back.

“Oliver, you awake?” came Omar’s voice.

“Fuck,” I muttered, sitting up quickly. “Yeah,” I called out.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“One second,” I said, frantically pulling the covers up to my chest. “Okay,” I called.

Omar opened the door and walked in. His eyes lingered on my arms—the only part of my body exposed. “Morning,” he said with a smile.

“Hey,” I replied, managing a smile while trying to slow my breathing. “You’re here early.”

“Leo and I slept over so we could finish before noon.”

“Ah,” I commented.

“I just wanted to check on you. You disappeared after Bennett’s yesterday,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. The fabric rubbed against my dick, causing it to throb painfully close to climaxing. “You sure? You look kinda sweaty”, Omar observed.

“I just got hot last night. I’m fine, except, you know, for the mortification of being in underwear in public.”

Omar smiled. “Well, I’m glad they tore, personally.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he replied, holding my gaze.

I stared back in shock. “I—um… “ I stammered.

“I couldn’t even get up from the table because I was so hard after seeing you like that,” he admitted.

“O-oh,” I stuttered.

“I like you, is what I mean to say. Wanted to put myself out there,” he finished.

I tried to process his words as he shifted on the bed, the sheets rubbing against my still painfully hard dick. My eyes darted to the throbbing shape under the covers, and Omar’s eyes followed mine. “He turned back to me with mock shock on his face. “Were you jerking off”, he asked.

“W-what?” I asked, laughing a bit from nerves.

“You were beating off when I knocked on the door,” he half pointed out, half asked.

“Um. N-no. I mean, ok yeah” I conceded. Omar laughed.

“Must’ve been going at it to get that sweaty”, he said. He shifted on the bed, deliberately this time, causing the sheets to rub against my dick. I jumped, gritting my teeth as I felt back the orgasm. “Oops, my bad man”, he said, not sounding sorry at all. “You want me to go, then?” he asked, his tone carrying a double meaning. We held eye contact as I grasped what he was really asking. He licked his lips casually, bringing my attention to the full shape of them. I imagined them around my dick, and it throbbed in response. “No,” I said.

“No?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.

I sat up and pulled the blanket down, revealing my throbbing member. “Unless you want to go?” I asked. His eyes widened as he took all of me in. He moved closer, positioning himself over me. His intense eyes roamed hungrily over me before meeting my gaze again. My heart pounded as he leaned in, his lips brushing mine. He smelled like honey and mint. The coolness of the mint traced the inside of my lip as his tongue explored, sending shivers down my spine. He kissed my neck, moving down my body, letting his tongue roam.

I moaned as he wrapped his lips around my left nipple, then continued down the deep crevice between my pecs to my lower body. His eyes widened as he took in the size of everything up close. “Dang, you’re big everywhere,” he remarked, cupping one of my massive balls in his hand. I moaned from their sensitivity. My dick looked bigger than usual, definitely an inch or two longer than the 7 inches I was used to.

“How do you even fit all this into a singlet?” Omar asked.

“A very strong cup,” I replied, making him chuckle. He leaned down, licking and sucking on my balls, causing me to groan louder than I intended.

“Quiet,” he whispered before getting back to work. Pre leaked from my dick as the intense pleasure and frustration of being so close to the edge overwhelmed me. As soon as he wrapped his lips around the head of my shaft and went all the way down, my back arched as I erupted, volley after volley of cum flying from me. He sucked on it for the first minute, then pulled back, eyes wide as I kept going. My cum splattered against the headboard with each pump. It went on for minutes until finally, it subsided.

I looked behind me, stunned by the now-white headboard. Thick cum oozed down, dripping onto the sheets and floor. I quickly sprang up to grab a towel, wiping it down before it could drip down on the carpet

“That was fun”, Omar said as he wrapped his arms around me. “You should really think about doing sperm bank donations, ‘cause that was crazy”, he joked, causing me to laugh. It was a nice feeling having someone else be bigger than me in some way as I looked up at him. Made me feel normal again after feeling freakish the last few days. He kissed me passionately for a few seconds before breaking off. “My turn next time”, he said, grinding his hips onto mine, rubbing his hard dick against me.

“How about now?”, I responded. He shook his head.

“Leo sent me up here to wake you up so we can finish getting ready. If we take any longer he’ll come up here himself”. I frowned, but had no solution to that. Leo was impatient, and would most definitely barge in here. “See ya out there”, he said, slapping me on the ass before he walked away. I walked into the bathroom and did my morning routine absent-mindedly as I processed what happened. As I brushed my teeth, I apprehensively stepped on the scale and sighed with relief when it read 258. 2lbs heavier was nothing compared to what it could’ve been. Though, if I was honest with myself, a tiny part of me was a bit disappointed that it wasn’t more.

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