The Cameron Hastworth Fan Club

by Mask

The university’s most popular new fan club, its member count starts small but begins to increase dramatically. Do you count yourself lucky enough to be a member?

I stood in front of the mirror and flexed my bicep gratuitously. I’d just finished a nice long workout and it was freshly swollen from the effort. While I was usually accustomed to a push and pull routine, I’d purposely gone for a maximum arms workout. I had a date with Kylie later, and she was big into that.

I like to think I’ve got the perfect body. All of my muscles align like the gears of an efficient machine. My machine is well oiled, no cracks or breaks. Being a one-man mechanic for it isn’t easy, but it just makes the end result all the better. I stare into the mirror, flexing each muscle through my sweat-stained gym clothes. Every facet of my body is perfectly formed and proportioned, no excess fat or bulging veins to be seen. My pectorals could hold up a semi truck and my abs have actually cut steel on multiple occasions. Granted, they were very thin fibers stolen from the chemistry lab, but when a lady sees them she’s willing to go through with any and all kinds of exaggeration.

I smiled at myself, happy at my body. My blank white tee shirt strained against its force. Sweat stains streaked across it, only further proof of my hard work. With one more flex, I packed up my things and made my way toward the rec center’s exit. On my way out, I passed by my gym buddy, Eric. He was coming from the barbells, fresh from some heavy lifting himself.

“Benny Benny Benny!” he shouted rapidly. I slugged him in the arm as he walked by. He was the only one I let get away with calling me that, and infuriatingly he was trying to get others to start. He’d seen me with a girl the other night, and I was forced to break up with her that very same evening because of his antics.

“How was that last set?” I asked. Eric grinned and pulled up a pant leg to reveal his massive thigh. Eric was a Soccer star, and while shorter than me in height, he was much more in other areas. His legs were masterfully crafted, and he was the star midfielder for the university.

As other men and women started to fill the hallway, a group of freshmen by the looks of them, Eric gave a wave of good-bye before entering the locker room with the coming crowd. I smiled and walked down the hallway towards the exit.

Just as I turned the corner, I suddenly slammed against a wall of flesh and muscle nearly equal to my own. Unlike what Newton would lead you to believe, the forces were not equal and I stumbled backward before catching myself. I looked up and my mood dipped.

In front of me was Cameron Hastworth, seemingly unfazed by running into me. I nearly swore out loud, but I didn’t want to cause a scene. Of all the people to run into, it had to be Cameron.

As some background, Cameron was by far the luckiest man I knew. “Lucky,” was a personality trait, not just some afterthought. He seemed to just get everything he wanted, looks included. He drove a sports car from some expensive European brand. He was given a full ride scholarship along with some extra money for housing. It was apparently enough for him to live in a house on “Frat Lane” as it was called. By himself. I’d even seen him out when I was on a date with a chick where he’d ordered nearly everything on the menu. He tipped the waiter double the bill and didn’t even leave a morsel or crumb. The wait staff had been astonished and I could have sworn I saw the sous-chef crying.

I only ever had one class with him. A high-level class on Electrodynamics. He never showed up once, but managed to receive an A+ by the end of the semester. Rumor had it an assistant dean himself had met with him and used him in a bunch of promotional material for the school. “Star Student the Model of a Modern Citizen!” or some crap like that.

Have I mentioned his looks? I’m straighter than a flag pole at an Alabama army base, but even when I’m around him there’s something magnetic about it. I feel compelled to face him and I get all fuzzy from just being there. It was like his muscles were built perfectly. Even my well-oiled machine looked rusted by comparison. Not a blemish, birthmark, mole, or even blood vessel in sight. He had some of the clearest and cleanest-looking muscle I’d ever seen. This was the first I’d ever seen of him at the gym though, he must have some equipment at his place unless he was just…well lucky in that department too.

Any man he desired, he would have. Apparently, straight or otherwise. Sexuality was of no concern. Cameron was seen on a date with the star quarterback, Austin, just last week. The same man that had previously been seen at some extremist rally days prior. He was even known to date multiple men at the same time, shirking them when he was finished and even effortlessly getting back together when he desired. Luckily, they never seemed too bummed about it. Who knows how he convinced them.

But don’t let all of that praise fool you. I did not like Cameron.

“Oh, hey man!” Cameron said interrupting my thoughts. He smiled and waved at me, even though we were standing no further than a foot apart from each other. He squinted his eyes and made a show of looking like he was thinking very hard. “Frederick, was it?”

“Sure.” I replied. My name was obviously Ben, but it’s best not to argue with Cameron. He’s…well…odd like I said. If you can avoid conversation, you can get out of there. I tried to move a bit, but my body felt sluggish after the long workout. I just couldn’t seem to move.

“Luckily, I’m always right with names,” he said winking at me. I felt a deep, unnerving chill run down my spine. I felt it bore straight into my core. That feeling you get in the dark when you think you hear something but you know—

“Oh, Frederick?” Cameron said. His smile somehow got even bigger and his hand waved in front of my eyes like he was trying to get my attention.

I sighed a bit. Of course, he always gets it right. As luck would have it…

“I’m only joking man,” he said laughing like it was the funniest thing ever. He put his arm on my shoulder, which made me flinch just a little. He dragged his other finger along my blank t-shirt. “As luck would have it, you’ve got your name written on your shirt here.”

I looked down as his finger traced along my chest. I’d forgotten I was wearing this shirt. He was right though, written across my shirt was my name, Frederick. Cameron traced each letter carefully, stopping and starting randomly.

“Frederick is just soooooo formal though,” Cameron said. “Freddy seems to be more your style.”

“It’s, uh, Fred,” I said as politely as I could. I hated people who called me Freddy. Cameron decided to ignore me, choosing instead to continuously trace the ‘i’ up and down again, disturbing my nipple. “Fred or Frederick, please.”

“I must have misread it, Freddy,” Cameron said. He made an expression of faux sadness and underlined the text once more, dragging a slow finger underneath my pecs. Even after a pure arm workout, the juicy peckers were still large and often in charge. “As luck would have it, it actually says my name here, Cameron.”

“Can I help you?” I asked raising my voice. I’d worn this ‘Cameron’ shirt because I assumed I’d never see Cameron here. It was just a ratty old gym shirt anyway. Probably got it from my old man or something. I pretended to readjust the bag on my shoulder, hoping he’d move his hand from my torso. He did not.

“Well,” Cameron said. He flashed a smile women would go wild for. Perfect teeth and everything, he must have been lucky enough to have the surgeon general themselves as his dentist. Unfortunately for women, it was well known that Cameron was not into them. “For right now, I’m just appreciating seeing my name on your shirt.”

“And look here,” Cameron said. He leaned over and examined the side of my shirt. I wanted to slug him so hard, but I knew I couldn’t. Sure, I’d be charged with assault, but I just felt something magnetic about Cameron. I couldn’t look or move away from him, but a punch surely would have been repulsed by some reversed magnetic polarity.

“What a lucky coincidence!” Cameron exclaimed, waking me from the daydream I hadn’t even noticed I’d fallen into. “It says my name on the side of your shirt too!”

Cameron led his strong finger down from my pec and along the side of my shirt, tracing the letters that had always been there. He pinched it my skin, grabbing at what little fat remained on my body. I flinched only a little, but not too much.

“And it says it on the other side too! And on the back! And here and here and here…” Cameron cried out as he pointed towards just about all of the blank parts of my t-shirt. “What a lucky find this shirt must have been.”

I shook my head a bit. My ‘Cameron’ shirt as my friends and I liked to call it had ‘Cameron’ written on every conceivable part of the shirt in every conceivable direction. I’d found it at Good Will or something, and it’s been a staple of my wardrobe ever since. It really was one of my favorite shirts to workout it. Just a shame I had to wear it when I ran into—

“Freddy!” Cameron said with a shout. I blinked and realized I was no longer facing him. I felt an uncontrollable urge and spun around, zeroing in on him and his gorgeous smile. His… wait, what smile?

“I have that effect on people,” he said. He smiled his crooked little smile. It reminded me of the Grinch, though the Grinch would have been a little more justified in his actions than this asshole. “So absolutely kind of you to wear this shirt!”

“It’s just one of my workout shirts,” I replied. I turned to go, but I found that subconsciously Cameron had pushed me into a corner. In order to leave, politely or otherwise, I’d have to make a break past him, and that just didn’t seem possible.

“Oh one of many I assume!” Cameron said enthusiastically. He flexed his arms and then pointed at my own. “It looks good on you after your little arm workout there.”

I managed out a mumble, maybe more of a grumble. I might have even said thanks in there for all I knew. My body was perfect looking, I’ve had women in shambles when I wear a winter coat. When I’m naked, women have been known to collapse on the spot. But somehow, Cameron’s body was just more perfect. It seemed impossible, but it was true.

“Since you look so good in it, it’s pretty lucky that all of your shirts are ‘Cameron shirts’,” Cameron chided. All I could suffice was another sheepish muttering of curses. It was true, all of my shirts were actually identical to this one. People on the street and girls I pick up usually assume it’s my name, but not so. I wear them just for that reason, it’s an interesting conversation topic. How many people can say they own only one style of shirt? And such a unique shirt at that! My Cameron shirts were just—

“You must be a big Cameron fan,” Cameron said smiling. I blinked at him, losing my train of thought and not really processing what he said. He smile widened even further. You could fit half a watermelon in the sucker, and I would very much like to try. “Don’t worry, I’m a big Cameron fan too.”

My face reddened with anger. Something seemed to lift, and I gathered the courage or maybe even just the energy to walk by him. With a half-assed mumbled good bye and some words I couldn’t even discern myself, I walked away and out the door. I could feel myself trying to turn, to be pulled back, but I resisted.

“Whoa there, cowboy!” Cameron said loudly. He sidestepped beside me and began to match my pace out the door. I could feel him at my side. I wanted to turn and stop, but I kept going.

“Go away, Cameron,” I said. “No one likes you.”

“Oh well you see Freddy,” Cameron said raising his voice. This caused it to crack a little, which made me smile just a little at the schadenfreude of it all. “Actually there’s a lot of people who like me!”

I said nothing and pushed open the door. He jumped through the adjacent door and then ran out in front of me, stopping me in my path. My eyes zeroed in on him. His massive arms, his enormous pecs, his…wait a moment. Focus.

“Cameron,” I said restraining myself. “You don’t want to start a fight. Now I’m late…”

“Well I’m late too, all because I’m trying to have this nice conversation with you Freddy,” Cameron said. He pouted and made a mock show of sadness like he was a child whose ice cream was stolen. “Late…for the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club’s nightly meeting!”

“The. What?” I asked slowly. My anger dissipated and I looked him directly in the eyes. His deep brilliant eyes. More out of sick curiosity than anything. I got a lot of joy talking about people like Cameron behind their backs, and this seemed to be too good.

Cameron smiled. It was a deep, deep smile. I felt a little chill in the air, despite the warm spring air. Something came over me, and I felt that magnetism return in full force. I couldn’t stop looking at Cameron. His luscious pecs were just so so so so—

“Wake up Freddy,” Cameron said snapping his fingers at me. I blinked at looked up at him. “The Cameron Hastworth Fan Club!”

“Where is this… ‘fan club’…held exactly?” I asked, trying to sound disinterested.

“My house of course!” Cameron shouted before I could even have a chance to query further. “No funny business, me and Austin started it last week.”

Austin…interesting. I was, at this point, mad with curiosity. Cameron just had this allure about him, beyond just his physical attraction. People talked about him. Austin hadn’t peeped to anyone, not even the other guys on the team about what made him do it. He even got mad when people talked trash about Cameron. People had been trying to find new dirt for ages at this point. If I could get the newest scoop, then I might be able to score a few of the ladies.

“Who is a part of this club?” I asked.

“Oh, just me and Austin,” Cameron said waving his hand in the air. Not really a fan club then. More of a kinky evening between adults. “But luckily, it seems like you’re interested in coming with me back to our meeting!”

“Oh yes actually!” I said practically shouting. I silently scolded myself for doing that. I didn’t want him to be let on. I’d have to be more subtle, try and make it seem like I wasn’t interested. But I was interested. Very interested in fact. “Let’s get going! We don’t want to delay the meeting.”

Smooth.

“The fan club awaits! To Frat Lane!” Cameron said excitedly as he ushered me along. With nothing better to do and genuine excitement building up in my stomach, I walked along with him and hoped that Cameron wouldn’t kill me when we arrived.

Cameron’s home was among the largest on the street. Barring the single garage where he presumably held his car, the building looked like it could hold at least a dozen or so other people comfortably, more if people were willing to double up. I guess it was just more of Cameron’s luck that allowed him to live here by himself.

Cameron stood behind me and practically pushed me towards the front doors. The two doors towered above me, and I looked back at Cameron with a little uncertainty.

“Go on, open it!” he said giddily. He was grinning ear to ear, and it was making me incredibly uncomfortable. I desperately wanted to run, but my curiosity was stronger though, and with increasing regret I pushed open the door.

Inside was an immaculate foyer with a very expensive looking chandelier. A spiral staircase sat in the center of the room leading both up and downstairs. Hallways branched off into various rooms, all of them looking more expensive than the last.

“Down the stairs!” Cameron said, shoving me forward. “We’ll be late otherwise!”

After nearly tripping down the stairs, we came across what looked to be a standard man cave kicked up to the standards of a millionaire. TVs, a bar, game tables, and all of the flashy lights you’d find at a high end establishment. It was painfully obvious how empty the space was. Nothing was being used…well, almost nothing.

There, sitting in a large recliner, was Austin. He was sitting there so calmly, like he was at peace with the world. The usual boisterousness common of a man in his position was absent, he didn’t even seem to notice us as we walked over. Cameron practically shoved me into a nearby seat as he walked over to the bar and began to fiddle with things.

The room was filled with an awkward quiet. The only noise came from Cameron. I looked around, expecting to see some club fanfare, or at least a ghost. Austin remained motionless with his dumb little smile.

Austin was built exactly as you’d expect a college quarterback to be built. His muscles were for function rather than show, yet he was still enormous. Thickly built, his arms were like mounds of clay and his deep chest was practically motionless as he breathed in and out. He was also extraordinarily tall. At least a foot taller than Cameron, and probably a foot and a half on me.

I noticed how still he was sitting. He looked so happy, so content. I expected someone with his reputation to be more rambunctious, more up and around. But in Cameron’s house, it seemed like Cameron was in control.

“I call this meeting of the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club to order!” Cameron shouted from the bar. He slammed a gavel down onto the countertop, which reverberated throughout the room. He mocked and pantomimed being some kind of judge, raising his hands and blabbering nonsense.

Austin suddenly sat up, pushing the recliner in. He smiled and grinned at me. His big hulking arm raised and waved at me so awkwardly, it was as if it was separate from his own body. It moved back and forth as his body remained nearly stationary.

“First order of business!” Cameron said. He pounded his gavel again for good measure before flipping through some kind of book. “Our newest member!”

Austin’s face lit up and he began clapping excitedly.

“Who?!” he shouted. He looked directly at me and pointed. “You?!”

“N—” I tried.

“Yes in-deed!” Cameron annunciated, putting on his best game show host voice. “Luckily, Freddy here is ready to join the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club!”

Austin bolted upright and darted over to me. He grabbed my hand and shook it diplomatically before forcefully picking me up and giving me a hug.

“I’m so glad we’ve got another member!” he cried out. He squeezed me tightly, and the combination of our thick muscles against each other caused me to gasp for breath. In an instant, he dropped me back onto the chair and returned to his recliner where he became silent again, his face relaxed into a dumb smile. I blinked, slightly dumbfounded.

“All those in favor of membership, say aye,” Cameron said.

“Aye,” Austin shouted in a moment of exhilarating emotion before returning to his somber smile.

“Aye!” Cameron said dramatically. “The ayes have it, welcome to our club! Your name will be added to the list!”

The two men clapped very loudly and excessively as I sat there dumbfounded at a literal loss for words. Austin seemed to be overly excited, and his face expressed a childlike sort of glee.

“You seem like a dedicated fan to add to our membership Freddy,” Cameron said.

“Uh…Fred, please,” I interjected.

Austin’s head swung over and his eyes locked on to me. His calm face morphed into an expression of deep anger and he scowled at me. His body was no longer static, but fluid and prepared. I let out a weak peep and sunk deeper into my chair. After a moment of silence, Austin returned to his stupor and Cameron continued.

“Freddy, we only want the most dedicated of fans in our club,” Cameron said. “Austin, show our newest member something that you have that shows your dedication.”

“I’ve got this tattoo here! See?” Austin said excitedly. He gestured at his chest and underlined his massive pecs. Written straight across his chest was a tattoo that read “Cameron.” Up to this point, I hadn’t actually noticed it. Austin put his hands to his side and made a triumphant Superman pose. “I’m very proud of it.”

“I’m sure you are,” I said politely. Austin beamed at me. This was some juicy stuff, but I was beginning to think that it wasn’t worth it. Austin was acting super off, and though I wanted to be a member of the fab club, it was for ulterior motives. Hopefully the club would disband soon and I could leave.

“You know,” Cameron said as he turned from Austin back to me. “As luck would have it you have the exact same tattoo across your chest!”

“How—” I sputtered. I grasped at my shirt, not really knowing what to think. Sure, I may have had my Cameron shirts and my Cameron pants, but how was anyone who hadn’t seen it supposed to know about this Cameron tattoo?

“You really are the perfect person to join our little fan club here!” Cameron said giddily. He moved into the room from the bar and smiled. “You really must have been a fan beforehand! Why else would you have all that ‘Cameron’ written all over you?”

“I only have it written across my chest, okay?” I replied angrily.

“And your clothes, dude,” Austin snorted. He sat there smiling as he traced the letters of Cameron with his finger. With each letter outlined, he chuckled a bit. With each letter traced, he seemed to shift his waist here and there, as if uncomfortable.

“Shut up,” I snapped back. Austin gave me a rather strong side eye. “That doesn’t count.”

“Don’t be so rude to each other!” Cameron said. “Come now Freddy. Luckily you’re nice enough to take your shirt off so we can all see the tattoo.”

I grumbled but obliged. This was all for the scoop. The greatest story I would ever tell in my entire life would be about this clusterfuck. I shucked my shirt and gestured at my massive chest which, of course, had “Cameron” written across it. It was unfortunate that another one of my conversation starters happened to be this tattoo.

“That’s so cool!” Austin said smiling. He began to mirror my movements, so I quickly put my hands to the side of the chair and sat still.

Another moment of silence filled the room. Austin continued to sit there, head empty as he smiled lazily. I continued to sit there uncomfortably in the chair, counting the seconds as they passed by. My eyes darted back and forth between my captors. Cameron was just standing there looking at me. I was avoiding direct eye contact, but I knew he was doing it. I kept looking back at him, and he kept staring at me.

I noticed that he wasn’t smiling. For the first time ever, he wasn’t smiling. He appeared deep in thought, like he was considering something grandiose with far-reaching implications. It made me shudder. A wave of dread washed over me, and I felt like something terrible was about to happen. I wanted to look anywhere else, but I felt myself looking, turning uncontrollably to face Cameron.

There we sat for what could have only been a minute, but felt like several eternities. We had locked eyes, neither of us blinking. Cameron was cold in every way. Everything usually came so naturally to him that when Cameron seemed to stop and think, it looked very intimidating.

“I’ve been leading you on a little bit of a run Freddy,” Cameron said suddenly with a sharp smile. He lifted a hand to his head like he had made some grievous error and was feeling remorse for it. “Poor Austin here doesn’t even know either.”

“Know what?” I asked nervously. Austin didn’t even seem to notice or care about what Cameron had just said. He just continued to fiddle about in his seat. “Where have you been leading me?”

“Oh, I just can’t say!” Cameron, the drama school dropout cried out. His usual vile smile had returned in full force. He leaned backward against Austin’s seat like he was fainting, and Austin’s hands immediately moved up and began to massage his shoulders.

“Austin?!” I asked incredulously. The man had barely uttered a coherent word and was bending over backward for the most insufferable man on the planet. I knew that something was wrong here, but I seemed to be the only one who knew that.

“Yeah, Fred?” Austin asked. He looked over at me quizzically. Cameron stood up and turned around. He smiled at me, and I didn’t smile back.

“Oh Austin dear,” Cameron cooed. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong. Just Freddy being silly.”

“Oh that’s good!” Austin said dumbly. A wave of genuine relief washed over the man. I sat there dumbfounded. My mouth actually fell open. The man was taking dick riding to an absurd level. I needed just to leave. This was enough. I would just stand up and then I could just walk right on out of here. Surely—

“Luckily, Freddy here is just aware of my little turn of phrase and all the changes it makes,” Cameron said with the vilest grin I’ve ever seen.

My brain started firing all of its cylinders. Like pistons in an engine, everything came to me all at once. My name wasn’t Frederick. It was Ben. Benjamin. My friends called me Benny. No, only Eric called me Freddy. Benny I mean. My name had been taken from me.

And I was here, not because I wanted to be, but because I was made to want to be. I had just taken my shirt off to show them a tattoo that he had willed onto my chest. A shirt that he had willed me to have in the first place. I had been wearing a white tee-shirt before. All of the nonsense began to line up with each other.

I suddenly realized why it felt so nice to look at Cameron. I pointed at him and sputtered with words while he smiled vilely.

He was completely naked. Head to toe he was not wearing a single article of clothing. In the gym when he’d met me and on the walk over here he’d been naked as the day he was born. In fact, I realized that he’d always been completely naked. As long as I had known of him, he was always in his birthday suit, and no one seemed to notice or care.

I turned to look at Austin. He too was completely naked. His perfect football build was put on display completely. My heart started thumping in my chest as I began to actually think through the ramifications. I stood up, nearly tripping over myself. Every single interaction I had ever seen Austin in he had been completely naked. On the streets and around campus Austin had remained completely naked. In science labs with dangerous chemicals, he had remained completely naked. I’d only started going this year, but every football game he’d played completely naked. When I had walked into the house he had been naked. When he showed me his identical “Cameron” tattoo he hadn’t lifted up a shirt or anything because he’d already been naked.

“He’s naked too!” I shouted out. “And he was at the games too!”

“Oh yeah, it made them much more interesting to watch,” Cameron said laughing. “I made that change ages ago. I was a fool to wait so long to date him. Frankly, I should do it to more of them!”

“The football games?” Austin asked as if I had meant any other games. Or maybe he’d forgotten what football was. Ignoring Cameron’s other remarks, he smiled his cheerfully dumb smile. “Of course I was dude! I’m always naked. There aren’t any exceptions.”

“But but but there are rules! Laws even!” I stammered out. I was gripped with the realization that I had no control over my situation and I was grasping at irrelevant items. I had started to back myself away. “Sanitary, decency…probably. And others too!”

“For other players,” Austin scoffed putting his arms out as if what he was saying was completely obvious. He scratched at his bare chest and even itched at his hard dick which I took the displeasure of noticing for the first time.

“But the cold!” I shouted. “You must be freezing when you walk outside!”

“The what?” Austin asked. His face scrunched up and he looked up at Cameron with a pouty face of concern.

“Oh, this is fun!” Cameron said deviously. He was standing up behind Austin’s chair, so only his torso was visible. And what a perfect torso it was. Now aware of it, I could actually feel the magnetic like attraction I felt for Cameron. I was conscious of the unnatural feeling of wanting to get closer to him. To touch him, to be with him.

“That’s why it says my name on your chest,” Cameron said. His eyes locked with mine and I dreaded the worst. “Because luckily, I own you.”

“I have to go,” was all I could manage at a whisper. I felt something wash over me. I knew that he owned me, literally, which meant he could do with me whatever he wanted. I knew now that he probably owned Austin as well, and maybe even others I didn’t know about. Only one person had control in the room, and it wasn’t me. I took a single, wavering step backwards.

“Oh I don’t think so,” Cameron said. His voice seemed so commanding. My foot froze, by body locked up involuntarily. He turned around the corner of the couch, revealing himself completely. Like water down a gutter, I could feel myself getting flushed away. Staring at his full body, now fully aware of it, was just too much.

In combination, his muscles were just overwhelming. Never before had I seen an arrangement of any human body so magnificent. And every muscle group pointed towards what must have been the most attractive, mouth-watering cock I’d ever seen. It was enormous and hung down to Cameron’s knee. At least it would have if it wasn’t rock hard. I could feel it from across the room, it called out to me.

My feet stopped, my knees locked, and I fell over. I laid on the ground, practically paralyzed by the naked sight in front of me. I felt my waist grow tight, and then warm as I released the load I’d been saving for my nothing of a date this evening. The ecstasy was too much, and my head dropped, removing him from view. I tried to crane my neck back, to bring Cameron back into my vision, but my body was too weak.

“You know Austin,” came the melodious voice of Cameron. I could see his image so clearly in my mind. It was like a Rembrandt. A beautiful painting to be hung on every wall of every room. His voice was like the melody from a symphony that I had been ignorant of until now. “I think you were right about our little fan club. Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner? We should have more people! I think Freddy here would agree, wouldn’tcha, Freddy?”

I pooled together the energy and looked up at him again. I wanted to feel disgusted. He was standing over me and I really wanted to feel disgust. I wanted to be able to take my eyes off of his washboard abs. I wanted to tear my thoughts off of his gorgeous pecs. I wanted to tear his perfect arms off his perfectly proportioned torso and take them for myself. I wanted to look at his thigh-length dick and puke. I wanted to look into his face and feel anything but desire and loyalty.

But I couldn’t. I tried, I really tried. I knew deep down that I couldn’t. I knew that everything he was saying was true. I knew that I would be subject to the Cameron Hastworth fan club for the rest of my life. It’s like when you learn the magic trick and suddenly everything is so obvious. Of course, that’s why every guy he wants falls for him! Of course, that’s why he looks so perfect! These feelings were just so obvious, and truly I could only feel…

Lucky.

I had never really been involved in clubs before. I wasn’t much for organization. However, the university mandated that all incoming students attend the Student Fair Booths, SFB. So Fucking Boring as most of the upperclassmen called it. They usually pitied the younger students, telling them which ones to steer clear of.

My roommate, unfairly, had an excuse and had skipped town, leaving me to navigate it on my own. Not that I cared too much. I was a little skimpy, definitely shorter than the average college student. But I can fit into a crowd easily. Meatheads didn’t really get in my way, nor did they intimidate me.

I picked a morning time in order to get it out of the way. Big mistake as several hundred others crowded the park green with the exact same idea. Wading through seas of people, I was mandated to take four different flyers before I could leave. The university wanted to force engagement, but this was kind of absurd. They had actual security guards around the perimeter who checked.

After signing in, I was barely able to think over the cacophony of Freshmen. I forced myself far into the commons until I reached a zone were the space between people was more lenient.

“You there!” came a voice. I turned to see a table full of a grab bag of people. They all had on fake plastered smiles, and were looking directly at me. They sat at a table nearby and had clearly picked me out of the audience at random.

“You looked a little lost!” a girl said. She gestured towards their poster, which read “Book Keeping Club.” I gave a polite smile before turning around. Surely there were better clubs around here. I could at least spend my time looking at something interesting.

Big mistake as I accidentally locked eyes with the “Basket Weaving Association.” The students looked like a mix of 20- and 80-year-olds. All of them looked like they might collapse at a stray gust of wind. Weren’t there any clubs for me?

“Young man!” came another voice. This one was deeper, almost intoxicatingly so. In the milliseconds that it took for me to register it, I could almost feel where the voice was coming from. My mind created a perfect map and gave me exact coordinates, like a bat using echolocation.

Turning on the spot, I zeroed in on the exact coordinates of the voice. It came from an enormous man sitting at a table with two others. The men were arranged in a row according to height. It seemed like the man in the middle was the one who had spoken to me. Each man was smiling at me, and I couldn’t take my eyes off any of them.

In an instant, I realized I was in front of their table. I blinked for a moment, confused at how I’d gotten here so quickly. I stared at the men, particularly the one in the middle. All three of the men were enormously muscular. I wasn’t gay, but it was like I couldn’t look away. I felt this pull just to stare at the guy in the middle.

“You look like you’re feeling lucky today!” exclaimed the same deep voice. The voice, so illustrious, had come from the demigod who sat in the middle. He smiled a very deep smile, and I could feel my belt tightening. He turned to his two partners. “Doesn’t he look rather interested?”

The two men that flanked him turned and smiled. It was a weak smile, one that looked like a mix of bliss and fatigue. Like experiencing some kind of pure ecstasy. Each nodded their heads. Their breathing was slow as their massive chests expanded and contracted.

“Tell me,” the man in the middle said. “What’s your name?”

“It’s—”

“No no, wait!” the man said cutting me off. I flinched a little. “I’m great with names! Luckily, I know that your name is Matthew!”

I was gobsmacked. Sure, Matthew was a popular name, but I can’t imagine that anyone could just go up and guess it. I realized my mouth had dropped, but I couldn’t close it. I just kept staring at the man in front of me.

“Nice to meet you,” the man said. He reached out his enormous hand. In an instant, I grabbed his hand with my own. I grew wide-eyed and made some small comment that I thought was an apology, though I may have said something closer to ‘fuck me.’

“Don’t worry,” the man said, still grilling my hand. The feeling was electric. “College is intimidating after all.”

I shook his hand for what must have been 30 seconds. Just holding the refined muscular hand really got me going. I let go once I realized my pants needed some adjusting.

“What’re you interested in?” the man asked. “I’m Cameron by the way.”

“Y-you’re Cameron? Cameron Hastworth?” I asked. I gestured at the sign above their booth. It read “Cameron Hastworth Fan Club.” It was so strange. I knew it was there and what it said, but I could hardly remember looking at it as I walked over.

“In the flesh!” Cameron said. He smiled a damn good smile before putting both of his arms up and flexing. My knees felt weak and I didn’t know why. My brain could only look at Cameron. Only think about Cameron.

“What c-c-can I get out of this you know like this club you know right?” I fumbled. Cameron only smiled in return.

“There are several benefits to join the fan club,” Cameron responded. “For example, we’re naked!”

I stared at him. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Doesn’t that surprise you?” he asked. He gestured a hand at each of the other two men’s bare chests. He grabbed their enormous dicks that were hard and leaking pre-cum. He smiled at me, awaiting a response.

“I-isn’t the sky blue?” I responded. Sure, the three men were naked, but that just seemed…right. I couldn’t really look away from them, which was also normal. Cameron simply grinned even larger.

“That doesn’t seem, abnormal?” he asked. His face contorted and scrunched as if he was pretending to think deeply. Or maybe he really was thinking deeply, I didn’t want to question him. He reached down with a hand and scratched at his bare ass.

“Well maybe if someone else was, or-or-or like I was,” I mumbled. Upperclassmen were a little intimidating, and these three behemoths were no different. In fact, their musculature only increased my unease. Cameron, of course, came out on top.

Cameron merely smiled. That was all he seemed to do. He began to visibly size me up. I began to grow nervous. Well, more nervous than before. What was Cameron thinking about? I’d just met him, and he was so hot I didn’t want to disappoint him. Wait, no that’s not what I meant.

Cameron cleared his throat and I rezoned in on him. He pointed at my shoes suddenly.

“Well as luck would have it, it seems you never wear socks or shoes,” he said quizzically. I looked down at my bare feet as if I was expecting something. Of course, my feet were bare, completely normal. “Most other people wear shoes, especially in a public place, or out here in the grass.”

“I…I guess I just never have,” was all I could muster. I’d never been bothered by it.

“Well as a prospective member of the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club, it seems like you’re already partially there!” Cameron bemused. “It’s pretty lucky that you don’t wear anything down there, your feet are large enough that I’m not sure any shoe or sock could fit on them!”

It was true. My feet were abnormally large. Customs shows could fit, on that Cameron’s speculation was wrong. But they made for ample support.

“Ample support indeed!” Cameron said. I looked at him and he winked at me. “You’re lucky to be so tall and muscular!”

I couldn’t agree more. At 7 feet tall, I was taller than nearly every person in the crowd. It looked like I was only rivaled by the taller men at the booth, though I was near equal in musculature. Except for Cameron of course.

“Austin,” Cameron muttered at the taller man. Austin. Good to know. I couldn’t make out what was said, but Austin merely smiled. He leaned back in his chair and grabbed his massive hard cock which he had been slowly pumping. With a single thrust of his hips, cum ejaculated outwards, coating my shirt in steamy liquid.

“Damn,” I said pulling at my shirt. It was an old one so I didn’t really care all that much. I wiped away as much of it as I could before returning to the booth of smiling men.

“Joining the club has many benefits,” Cameron continued. “Among them is that privilege, though there are many others.”

I looked back and forth between Austin and the shorter man. They both looked pretty happy. And while it seemed pretty normal for them to be able to just masturbate in public, I couldn’t see how joining this club would allow me to do that. Not that I would even want to do that. That was disgusting to even think about.

“You really are quite a good potential member,” Cameron said. “Luckily you already never wear clothes and even have ‘Cameron’ tattooed across your chest!”

I looked at my bare chest, which of course read “Cameron.” I even noticed that Austin and the other man had the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot.

“Yo! That’s so cool!” I said, pointing at each of them and then at my chest. Each mimicked my movements, outlining the letters and looking quite excited. I was dumb not to notice that before. What a lucky coincidence.

“How very lucky indeed,” Cameron said smugly. I’m not sure why he was reacting this way, I wasn’t really attuned to his personality, but I was beginning to dig his vibes.

“What’s this booth here about?” came a voice from behind me. A small kid, only six feet tall and built like a twig. He looked interested in the table and turned towards Cameron. “I’ve been kinda listening in, and it seems interesting.”

“Another prospective member of the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club!” Cameron said smiling. “Austin and Freddy, isn’t that just so lucky of us?”

The two men nodded in serious agreement. Even though I wasn’t a member (yet), I felt myself nodding along. The kinship of finding people who were just as freakishly tall and muscular as me along with a similar taste in tattoos made me want to get closer to them. I just couldn’t take my eyes off of Cameron.

“You’re Cameron then?” the man asked. Did he mean me? Surely he couldn’t overlook the force of personality in front of him. I wasn’t looking at him. I was staring straight at Cameron.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Cameron said. He flashed his teeth and my cock lurched slightly. I quickly moved my hands in front of it. Even if I was naked at all times, it was very rude to get a hard-on in public. It was just so damn difficult to do so with Cameron right there. Had he always been like that? So…so amazing?

Cameron reached under the table and produced two sheets of paper. Each had long lines of text written in such small font that I could not read it. It was condensed into a serious of something like 20 paragraphs all about the page. At the bottom was a place to sign and write the date.

“Luckily, these have the force of law,” Cameron said nonchalantly. I couldn’t help but be nonchalant too. I was beginning to become a big fan of him, and imitating his eccentricities seemed like a valuable use of my time. “All you have to do is sign the paper and you’re in!”

“Done,” came the guy beside me. He grabbed a pen and instantly wrote his name down. Seth something or another. After signing, Seth leaned back up and smiled down at me. He scratched at his bare chest, highlighting a tattoo on his chest that read ‘Cameron.’ “Oooooh. I feel good all of a sudden.”

“Must be this breeze on your bare skin,” Cameron noted. Seth moaned a bit out loud, and he grabbed at his cock and let out a stream of cum with a single stroke of his hand. The line spewed out and landed on Austin, he gave a wordless thumbs up of approval.

“Matthew if I had known it would be that sudden, I’d have just had you sign the thing in the first place,” Cameron said. He smiled politely at me and pushed the paper forward.

Time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. Staring directly into Cameron’s eyes sent me down on a trip that lasted several lifetimes. Staring deep into his eyes, I could see my imperfect reflection. Compared to Cameron, it was nothing. It was less than nothing. It was…

And then time sped forward and I had signed the document. My eyes met Cameron’s once more, and I could see that my frame was in fact still lesser than Cameron’s. But it was still perfect. Perfect to serve him. Perfect to be with him. Perfect to go and spread the good word about the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club. Cameron just happened to have a more perfect body. A titan among gods.

I turned to face Seth. We were the same height, same build, and even had the same tattoo across our chest. Only our heads distinguished us.

“Austin, Freddy, I’m going to need you to sign these documents for consistency,” Cameron said, his voice like a melody. I came and moaned loudly, showering a passerby in my warm, steamy cum. They didn’t care, obviously, as no one ever had before. Seth did the same, and we quickly embraced.

The sex was like none I’d ever had before. It was so passionate, so poignant, so alive and in public. With our 8 foot frames, we smashed into a nearby booth, crushing it beneath the weight of our enormous muscles. Taking a peak, the booth goers were ambivalent, and even seemed interested in the spectacle.

Time seemed to speed up again, and suddenly both of us had climaxed, and suddenly both of us were upright again. I stared at the booth, another tall, naked, muscular man was jacking himself off and talking with Cameron.

Cameron. Just thinking about him got my head spinning. I smiled and I spun, and by the time I turned around again, there was another tall, naked, muscular man. He’d actually always been there, I had only just noticed. It was just like him to attract such similar people.

Seth grabbed me and pulled me back over. Both of us grinning ear to ear. Cameron was still talking in his pure, ecstatic voice. Austin and Freddy each held a stack of papers in their hands. Freddy graciously handed us a small stack, before turning to help another prospective member out. Seth pulled at me, and we turned to leave.

“Remember to tell all your friends!” Cameron shouted at the two of us as we walked off hand in hand. “Join the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club!”

“Rogers!”

I could have screamed. Dean Larson had been up my ass all week. I gripped my head in my hands and forced a smile onto my face.

“Rogers!” Dean Larson shouted as he rounded the corner into my office. I spun my chair around and gave my trademark customer service smile.

“Dean Larson! To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked.

“Rogers!” Larson grunted, ignoring my pleasantries and repeating my name for the 13th time. I had to hold up my smile to avoid a scowl. The Dean was an old man, 70 something and definitely beyond his years. The tyrannical man had been dictator for over 20 years at this point, and some feared he was never going to die and leave them at peace.

“Rogers, have you seen this new club?” Larson said squinting. He really stressed the ‘new,’ and made special note to make air quotes and gesture dramatically.

“Oh why yes I have sir!” I said excitedly. I always made sure to anticipate Larson’s requests. It made him more benign. I turned around and opened up a tab with a prepared file. “The rock climbing club! I know you probably share my opinion that it is a great addition to our institution. I think the intramural benefits to the student body—”

“To hell with the damn rock climbing club!” Larson shouted. I flinched. A mistake in my part. Larson could see a fly shiver across the room and could find a way to intimidate it. In this case, he seemed so frustrated he ignored me. “It’s this…this fan club!”

The elderly man took a seat in one of my chairs. The school didn’t endorse any fan clubs; that was usually off-limits for funding. But whatever this ‘fan club’ was, it seemed to have actually been bothering the man. Sweat was gathering at his brow.

“I apologize, sir,” I said with great gusto. “I don’t remember seeing any fan club, let me check the registrar—”

“You’ll see it there, Rogers,” Larson said, his stress rising. “The Cameron Hastworth Fan Club!”

“Cameron Hastworth, huh,” I said. The name was familiar, perhaps a teen idol or some new pop star. “Let me pull up the Student Club list.”

As Larson went in dabbling about some nonsense, I shuffled through the labyrinthine files of the University’s systems before I came across the fan club. Believe it or not, the organization was in order under all the necessary financial agreements.

“Yep, registered at the start of this year!” I said. Seemed like Mr. Hastworth was a student rather than a celebrity, students did like a good joke every now and again. Didn’t seem like hazing either. “Founding members are Cameron Hastworth—obviously—Frederick Partielli and Austin Forban.”

“Austin Forban, pull up his file,” the Dean said. He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. That name was also familiar to me. Everyone knew that Forban was the university’s star quarterback. The university actually had special files for its athletes, and after a minute or so I had them all pulled up.

“Austin Forban, as requested,” I said, pulling my chair aside. There was general information listed, Height: 8 feet, Weight: 300 pounds, and so on. He had several stock photos taken throughout the football season, mostly staged ones they could use and edit for marketing purposes.

“Don’t you see it?” Larson said raising his voice. He staggered his large aging body over to the computer and just pointed. “Something’s not right.”

“The photo?” I asked.

“Yes, Rogers yes the photo!” The Dean roared. He pointed at the photo of Forban. The boy looked normal to me. He was the star quarterback after all. Of course, I was straight, after all I had a wife, but even I could see from the guy’s naked frame that he was some hot stuff. His arms bulged perfectly, his pecs were like slabs of concrete, his 10 pack looked effortless above an incredibly long…er uh…and his legs were all beefed up too. Not an ounce of fat on his hairless body.

“Yes this shot was very useful,” I said. I pointed at a photo of him at practice, still naked obviously, but with a football in his hand. His bare feet were digging into the turf, his balance supreme. Standing a good one to two feet above his teammates, the shot of him preparing to throw the ball had made for record numbers of viewers on a big season game against a big rival. Marketing was important. “We really ought to reward—”

“Don’t you see?!” the Dean shouted. He gestured at Forban’s chest where a tattoo that read “Cameron,” was clearly visible. I stared at the tattoo and then back at the Dean. Then back at the tattoo that plastered across the man’s enormous beefy chest. It just looked so squeezable.

“He is of age, he’s allowed to get tattoos,” I murmured. “Besides, it didn’t affect the ratings in any of the media.”

“I know, I know, Rogers!” the Dean said. He clenched his fists and shook them in the air, clearly frustrated. “Pull up the other boy, Pagliacci or whatever.”

“Frederick Partielli,” I said as I typed. Not a name I recognized, but I would do my due diligence to get this man out of my office. The boy’s profile popped up. He wasn’t a school-affiliated athlete, so less information was available.

“See! Look at the height and weight,” Larson snapped.

“300 pounds, 8 feet tall,” I said. Larson looked at me like I should notice the conspiracy set out before me. Oh no! The 8-foot tall 300-pound college juniors are out to get us! I had to stifle a laugh at my internal monologue, lest a smirk get me fired. “That was the data we got from the physicals done during his freshman year. It might be outdated.”

“If only there was an image here, we just have the damn headshot,” Larson muttered. I took a glance, the boy looked pretty good. Part of his bare chest was showing, which wasn’t abnormal, but the photo only covered a bit of the clavicle.

“See Rogers,” Larson said looking at me. His eyes bore into mine. “He’s got the same tattoo.”

I looked back at Larson. I let out a little sigh and looked back at the profile. Then back at Larson. I was really hoping he’d just leave.

“I don’t see—” I started.

“It’s there, Rogers,” Larson snapped, pointing at not any kind of tattoo. “I’ve seen it and there’s more too!”

“It is a bit of a coincidence,” I said. Larson immediately pulled out a small sticky note with a list of names on it. I took the list and looked back at the Dean.

“All freshmen, all members of the fan club,” Larson said. He pointed at the keyboard and I began typing away, pulling up file after file. The men were all wildly different in major and hometown. No connections there.

“Look at their heights and weights,” Larson said. I made careful note. 300 pounds, 8 feet tall. 300 pounds, 8 feet tall. 300 pounds, 8 feet tall.

Eventually, I reached an Athlete profile, a freshman on the baseball team. The Dean wordlessly pushed at me to stop and gestured at some of the pre-season summer prep that they had taken photos at. The marketing cycle was vicious, and they prepared in advance.

“Look at him, the outfielder, it’s a perfect shot,” Larson said. His voice had deepened to a sort of panicked calm. It was off-putting really. It was a photo of the up-and-coming student completely naked in the field…which seemed normal for him.

“Sir, I see no issues with this photo,” I said. The freshman was jumping up in the air to reach the ball, catching it in mid-air. The boy didn’t even use a glove, what a champ.

“His chest my boy, his chest!” Larson shouted. I glanced over. The guy’s chest was enormous. Two slabs of thick concrete above a ten-pack set of abs. His…his um…his legs were well accentuated by his jumping posture.

“You aren’t looking at the chest Rogers!” Larson said grabbing my head and forcing it towards the chest.

“Jesus, Larson!” I shouted.

“That’s Dean Larson to you,” Larson shouted. “And don’t you forget it.”

“So what, he’s got a Cameron tattoo as well,” I said defensively.

“They all do Rogers,” Larson said. “Every student on that list has a tattoo reading Cameron displayed across their chest. Every student on that list is exactly 8 feet tall. Every student on that list is a muscular 300 pounds can’t believe I’m just now noticing this, but something’s wrong here Rogers.”

“Sir,” I said. “They’re college boys. They do this stupid stuff like this for clubs. So what if they work out more? Two of them are star athletes. This club is probably doing then some good!”

“An exclusive club for men who are all 8 feet tall, 300 pounds, and all possess a tattoo with the word ‘Cameron’ written across it?” Larson said. He raised his hands up in the air aggressively.

“Bullying? Hazing? Coincidence? What are you worried about here?” I asked. I put my hands up in the air in a mock battle on the defensive against Larson. I knew it was pointless, the man never admitted defeat. “I don’t know what you want me to do, there’s nothing wrong here. Just coincidence!”

“Rogers, I…I don’t know I don’t have any more evidence than that,” Larson huffed. He sighed and stared longingly off into space. “I haven’t been lucky enough to run into the Hastworth boy, yet.”

“Knock knock! Don’t mean to intrude,” came a voice from behind us. It was like a melody, and it called out to us. Like my feet had a mind of their own, the swivel chair swung around to meet the new visitor.

The visitor in front of us was a sight to behold. I blinked, trying to clear my vision to make sure I was truly looking at something real. I felt this pull, and I noticed my feet had begun to pull my chair along the carpet towards the man, and I forcibly stopped myself.

“Mr. Hastworth,” Larson gasped. He swallowed and muttered things that weren’t words, flubbering about in the most embarrassing series of gestures I think I’ve ever seen.

“Dean Larson! Dean Rogers,” the man who was evidently Cameron Hastworth said as he walked into the office. My eyes, my body, and my…um my…followed him as he moved. It was like a magnet pulling me along, I realized my feet had started up again. “As luck would have it, I was walking by and I heard you mentioning something about the members of a fan club I’m involved in.”

“Oh uh, well yes…um you see,” Larson stuttered. I could see him in my peripheral vision, but I couldn’t quite take my eyes off of Cameron to look at him. Cameron was just…I don’t know. It was something about him. “Rogers! You tell the boy.”

“T-t-tell him what sir?” I stuttered. I realized that the two of us had moved even closer to Cameron. The man had taken up residency in one of the side chairs of my office, and Larson and I had slowly found ourselves flanking either side of him, staring. Larson didn’t answer my question, instead we kept staring. Cameron’s eyes met mine and he grinned.

“You two are such lucky people!” Cameron said. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach from that compliment. It was practically meaningless but it made me feel good inside. “As luck would have it, you two seem like you’d be interested in joining the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club.”

I was actually. The profile searching had actually piqued my interest. I knew it was against University policy for faculty to join a club in a non-advisor role, but I at least wanted to attend a meeting. I nodded my head. Larson was also nodding his head. Cameron was smiling. It was like our brains couldn’t form words. Except maybe for the word Cameron.

“Well I think we ought to talk about it then,” Cameron mused. “I heard you earlier, talking about rock climbing club actually.”

“It has great intramural benefits for the student body at large,” Larson blurted. He’d said it so fast spittle had flown everywhere. I didn’t have time to be angry about him stealing my thunder. All I could do was look at Cameron. I took notice of his round, juicy pecs. They were so large, so—

“Well gentlemen,” Cameron said. I snapped back up to his head. “There are many intramural and extramural benefits to this fan club.”

I realized in that moment that I had no idea what those words meant. I used them all the time but that didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was Cameron. If I could give him my undivided attention, I would. And I was.

“Dean Rogers,” Cameron said. Goosebumps. Chills down my spine. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare at people?”

“Well I, uh…well um,” I offered. I didn’t stop staring at Cameron, but I did blush a bit. I couldn’t look him in the face, so instead I focused on his amazing glutes. They were so well defined I got a…um I mean my…well it felt good looking at them.

“You’re lucky enough to have the youthful muscular Dean Larson here, why don’t you stare at him instead?” Cameron queried.

I turned immediately, not willing to go against such a soothing voice. Indeed, Larson was a muscular man. Despite his elderly age, his old head was attached to the body of a 20-something athlete. I’d look at it, but I wasn’t gay or anything, so it didn’t really get me going.

“Luckily Dean Larson is naked at all times so you can get a real good look at him!” Cameron said.

I wanted to look at Cameron, I could feel his pull. My peripheral vision included his naked glory, which was completely normal for both men in the room. Taking in my boss’ naked body was a sight to behold. It didn’t get me going, not like Cameron was, which was normal. But seeing his naked athletic frame was just amazing. I wished my middle-aged body looked like that.

“Wish no more,” Cameron said. My head swung around and met his eyes, his beautiful, beautiful eyes. He held up a piece of paper he’d seemingly procured from thin air. It looked like a legal document, though the text was far too small. There was a place to sign and date the text.

“Sign here, and you will enjoy life so much more,” Cameron said smiling. I blinked and the paper was signed. The motions I made were so fast that I hadn’t registered them. Cameron smiled.

“Thank you, Dean Rogers,” Cameron said. I came immediately. It was like the voice of god, a holy song of ecstasy coming to tell me the good word. I knew I had done good.

“Dean Larson,” Cameron said. I grabbed my foot-long dick and began to masturbate. Just holding Cameron in my frame of vision was enough. I could close my eyes and envision a perfect copy of Cameron. I knew that I was lucky to be a fan of his.

Cameron said something else, something pure, and both me and Dean Larson came in unison, our 8 foot tall muscular bodies lurching with the pain of pleasure.

Cameron stood up and wiped some of the cum off of himself. He smiled a deep smile and set down his copy of the document onto the copy machine before setting it to a massive copy order.

With the machine whirring in the background, I stared at Larson, and he at me. Our bodies were perfect. Not Cameron Hastworth perfect, but that 99.99% of him that made us a cut above the rest. Our features were younger, we seemed younger. Our dicks were throbbing, out muscles clenching.

“Luckily, you’ll let me distribute these contracts en masse all around the university,” Cameron said. Larson gave a weak yes as he tackled me to the ground. I didn’t bother to respond. I knew that gay sex was amazing, after all even though I’m married to my wife I’ve always been able to have sex with people like Dean Larson in public without shame.

“Luckily,” Cameron said. “That copy machine will also fax a copy and send it to every fax machine on campus.”

I heard the door slam shut as Dean Larson pounded my ass against my desk, already soaked with cum from weeks of previous intercourse. With hot blood flowing through every vein in my body, I realized at that moment just how incredibly lucky I was.

I woke up to the sound of my roommate’s alarm clock. It was accompanied by what many confused to be a chainsaw. In actuality, my roommate, Hayden, could simply sleep through the apocalypse.

Somehow, he’d garnered a sound tolerance to high-decimal noises, and used what seemed to be the equivalent of an air horn to wake himself from his sleep. Like most days, this didn’t work.

“Haaaaaaydeeeeeeeen,” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I wanted to smash that alarm clock, right after I smashed Hayden into a wall. Hayden, of course, kept on snoring.

I rolled out of bed and slammed my hand into the scrap of metal formerly known as an alarm clock. This, and only this, somehow woke him up.

“Dude?” Hayden said groggily. His mouth dropped as he stared at his smashed alarm clock. “Eric what the fuck?”

“Just because you have a class at 8 a.m. doesn’t mean you get to wake the dead asshole,” I said. Hayden had this supreme apathy that allowed him to simply take any insult fired at him. He tried to brush me aside, but his puny stature was nothing against my gym physique.

With no words to get through to him, I sat back in my bed and tried to curl back to sleep for an extra hour. Even without Hayden’s atrocious racket he called a morning routine, the light from the late August sky was just too much for me.

After Hayden left, I let out a loud scream of resignation into my pillow. I can’t believe I refused to room with my friends off campus just to save money by living in a fucking dorm. They did booze checks every Friday and wouldn’t even let me keep my legally purchased stuff. It was miserable.

I inched my way out of bed and decided to spend the rest of my morning on a basic workout using the bare-bones equipment I was allowed to keep in my room. As the school’s star soccer athlete, it was important that I stay in shape. I could probably pull some strings, maybe get a new roommate if I performed well enough. Hell, I could probably even room alone if I could perform well enough.

As I did my 13th set of 50 squats, I grabbed my phone to see what was up. No texts, no snaps at all. Apparently it had been a surprisingly quiet Tuesday night. I ought to text Benny about my gains and I began to type his name into the messaging app.

I did a double-take as I looked at my phone. Why had I thought Benny? I was texting Freddy. My best friend Freddy. My gym buddy and pal Freddy. Wingman on dates Freddy. After shaking myself out of it, I sent Freddy a brief text.

Hey Fred, haven’t seen you in a while. The gym’s been surprisingly empty recently, especially with your absence!

I sighed as I hit send. I’d sent probably half a dozen texts in the past two weeks and he’d not responded to any of them. I was beginning to think I had rubbed him the wrong way with “Freddy.” I know he hated it.

After a brief shower, I made my way down into the university commons. It always felt good to walk around after a small morning workout. It was like it was continuing onwards. I pulled out my phone again and began to peruse social media.

Very few posts were showing. It was like things had gone a little quiet recently. None of his friends were posting anything, and there wasn’t even an announcement for the big game this weekend. Usually the university account buzzed with activity, but apparently Assistant Dean Rogers was slacking.

I looked up from my phone and nearly tripped over a jovial circle of naked men circle jerking themselves off. All of the men were enormous, 8 feet tall at least and heavily muscled. Their dicks hung low, down to their knees and each man was actually double fisting the next man’s dick. The thirty-odd men were all moaning loudly, and every now and again one of them would get louder and ejaculate. All of the men had backs covered in cum. Each and every man also had something tattooed on their chest, but all I could make out was ‘on.’ Everything else was cum-covered.

“Annoying,” I said out loud with a sigh. They would decide to just do this on my path. The crowd was surprisingly large, and I started to make my away around until I came across what was clearly the “front” of the group.

Sitting on several small desks were stacks of papers and what looked like contracts. The desks were well into the green as the circle of men ebbed and flowed. Not one of them was manning it, lazy asses. Several students were investigating and trying to read the text. One guy, an 8 foot tall naked dude with ‘Cameron’ written on his chest put his completed form in a small tray.

“What’s with the forms?” I asked a few of the people around me.

“I can’t read it,” one of the guys said. “It’s in, like, 1 point font. 0.1 practically.”

“Must be something for their club,” another guy said. He pointed at a sign that was previously obscured from my vantage point. It read in large letters, ‘Join the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club, TODAY!’

“I hear Dean Larson has been all over this club,” chipped in a girl from the other side of the group. A small conglomerate of students was forming around the desk. “He’s a real good fit for it too.”

Most everyone including myself nodded in agreement. The Dean was about 8 feet tall and seemed to be permanently boned. He was naked of course, no issues there, and wonderfully built despite his age. He looked like any of the athletes you might find here, and he was 70. Thinking hard I could even remember that he had a “Cameron” tattoo across his chest.

“I don’t think they need the comma,” a girl standing over the table said. She pointed at the part of the sign that read ‘TODAY.’ She had grabbed a sheet of paper and began to sign her name. “I’m an English major, and the pause would only be in speech.”

“Really?” came one of the guys nearby. He picked up a sheet of paper and tried to read it. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah it is,” the man said in his deep voice. His large 8-foot frame actually cast a shadow from the early morning sun. He set down his signed sheet of paper and grinned. “Grammar’s pretty interesting honestly. We should meet up. Discuss it some time.”

“How about right now?” came the other man. He set down his signed sheet of paper and the two immediately embraced and began fucking each other on the green. Their enormous, naked, muscled bodies only slightly hampered the other 8-foot-tall naked men who had also just signed the sheet of paper. As they wriggled around next to me, I picked up the sheet of paper and tried my best to read it. While there were clearly words, they were so small that I couldn’t make out even a single letter.

“I need glasses,” I bemoaned as the two men on the ground moaned loudly, shooting a stream of cum directly into my sheet of paper, soaking it. I shook the paper out a bit, but it was ruined as a hole tore through the middle.

“Fuck,” I muttered. I checked the time. I’d have to get going if I wanted to make it to class on time. I set the form down, unsigned, and maneuvered my way around the large crowd of naked men, stepping over some newer men who were creating an even larger circle around the original one.

As I made my way towards the history building, I noticed a lot of tall, muscular, naked men. Each of them had an identical tattoo on their chest that read “Cameron.” While that was very normal for the university, it just felt weird today. I had never understood how they functioned in classes without things like pencils or paper or a backpack. They just always seemed to be exempt from everything but attendance, which was normal I guess.

A naked man jacking off on the side of the sidewalk released his load, and I quickly jumped back to avoid it. The man’s knees collapsed and he fell backward into the grass. A small photo fell out of his hands. Leaning down, I picked it up before stepping over his residue on my way to class.

The image was odd. It was of a naked figure, standing in a portrait style photo. He was incredibly muscular, in a sort of…perfect kind of way. Squinting a little, I realized that it was Cameron Hastworth. I recognized the look over the name mostly, the man was well known. Ben…Freddy had pointed him out to me once in a crowd. Said he was kind of freaky. I didn’t like to judge though, I guess enough people liked him that he had his own fan club.

I was so transfixed by the photo, that I ran right into the door of the building. I rubbed my head, blinking. The photo had fallen out of my hand, and the wind had captured it. I felt the need to look around for it, to find it just so I could have it. That was odd, I didn’t really need the photo for anything, but I wanted to look at it more.

Pulling myself away from my stupor, I pulled open the door and scurried down the hall. Two naked men were banging each other in a narrow hallway, and I had to slide by them to get through. Running around the corner, I ran up to the door and slammed my hand down on the handle, only to find that it was locked.

“Yeah, no class today,” came a voice from behind. I turned to see the towering figure of an 8 foot tall man. He was naked and obscenely muscular, which was the norm on campus for men. It was almost a useless description. He had a sheet of paper in his hand that looked like the forms from earlier which he set down on a small desk placed across from me.

“There’s a sign, see?” the man said scratching at his bare chest, which read ‘Cameron’ across it in tattooed letters. I turned around to see a small sign.

“No class today. Club activities prevent enough attendance to justify meeting today,” I read allowed. I swore. I must have missed an email. This happened frequently. Most of the people on campus were men, and most of the men didn’t carry any supplies. Unpreparedness was kinda the norm, but no one ever did anything about that. I guess club activities was just the reasoning for today.

“Hey, don’t you think this happens pretty often?” I said, turning back to the guy. Another man had shown up, and was riding the original guy’s dick.

“S-sure-ure,” the man drowned out as he humped the other growing man.

“Yeah but like, doesn’t that seem weird?” I asked. Both men shook their heads.

“It’s v-ver-ery-co-o-on-vien-ien-ien-yent,” the newer guy said through the pulsating thrusts of his fellow man. I didn’t agree, I was required to keep a high GPA to stay on the team. What was I going to do if we never had class?

As the two men reached climax, I walked off, confused. Something was off here. Even as a splash of steamy hot cum but my face from a nearby couple trapped in a sexual fit, I knew I needed to get to the bottom of this. My phone buzzed in my pocket, a preset alarm from my calendar app.

“Damn, the big game,” I muttered. There was a huge game against our main rival this evening, and I had gone and forgotten about it. See, our university was on the east side of the river while there’s was on the west. Fairly simple proximity made it so that our sports teams competed vigorously against each other.

While I’d done a few sets this morning, I gathered that I had enough time to put together a good lift at the gym now that class was canceled. These days I felt like I had to warm up extensively before each game. The competition always seemed to be so intense, even within our own team. Some of my teammates could do things without even seeming like they were trying.

I scrambled across the green, taking the long way around as the crowd had grown to be several hundred men strong. The gym was located at the far side, a rather large facility.

When I entered the building, I realized immediately that the gym was empty. Literally. As I stood there in the center of the room, not a single person was using any of the machines. The free weights were all stacked neatly along the far wall. Even the happy pop music that played over the loudspeakers seemed eerie in the empty space. There wasn’t even an employee behind the counter.

I walked up to desk, looking around to see if anyone was in some sort of back room. Again, I saw and heard nothing. But something on the counter caught my eye. Plain as it was, a single sheet of paper lay directly on the desk. The font was super small, but there was a place to sign my name.

“If only I had a pen,” I muttered as I looked around. Not that I even knew what it was. I sighed to myself and set the sheet down and walked over to the barbells. “Lucky that no one’s here I guess.”

“Let’s go people, we’ve got to get out there!” Coach shouted. He clapped along and raised his voice at a few of my teammates who were falling behind. I was exhausted and remained at my spot on the locker room bench. We were winning by a long shot, the score was 7-0. We hadn’t had such a large margin between our teams in years, many of our rivals’ fans had already left the stadium and it was only halftime.

Why then was I exhausted? I was the midfielder and I’d barely touched the ball. Up and down the field I’d gone, desperately chasing my teammates who just seemed like they could run faster than the wind.

“You good?” came a voice to my right. I looked up to see Darrien, our goalie towering over me. His dick was erect, as per usual, and rested gently against my right ear. “You seem really tired.”

I could only nod. My entire body was wracked with sweat. Every bone in my body ached from head to toe. I really shouldn’t have lifted this afternoon, huge mistake. Beyond that, my jersey was covered in grass, and my cleats were caked in a layer of dust. In contrast, Darrien’s skin was completely dry and clear of all blemishes. His frame was held high, and he did not seem exhausted at all.

“I’ve had it kind of nice by the goal,” Darrien said. He laughed, clearly trying to lighten the mood. I felt the pulsing blood flowing through his cock, and a small trail of his pre cum oozed down my neck. I said nothing, too exhausted to care.

“Eric, you look sick,” came another voice. It was Raul, one of our forwards. He leaned against a nearby wall, his face giving off the usual effortless charm. Even his genuinely concerned expression would have made a woman swoon. He alone had been responsible for 5 of the goals this evening, with assists on the other 2. “Are you feeling all right?”

I nodded once more and downed a bottle of water. I watched as my teammates glanced at each other warily. Raul, like Darrien, was full of energy. Not a single bead of sweat was visible anywhere on his naked body.

“We gotta head out dude,” Raul said. He walked up next to Darrien and proceeded to grab his friend’s cock. Darrien returned the favor, and the two began to jerk each other off. That wasn’t a problem, obviously, but the fapping was localized enough that it drowned out the remaining sounds of the hectic locker room, giving me time to think.

My height was a mix of a blessing and a curse. Since every other man on the team was effortlessly 8 feet tall and 300 pounds of muscle, I was the only one with a small enough build to actually weave in and out of everyone. It made me our best midfielder, though perhaps not tonight for some reason.

“I knew I worked too much at the gym,” I groaned.

“What?!” shouted Raul and Darrien let out an earsplitting moan. I ignored them, allowing them to continue on in their bliss.

The skills of the rest of the team were incredible. None of them ever worked out, and despite not wearing any gear they were always able to achieve amazing physical feats. They never seemed bothered by shin kicks from the opposing team, nor did they seem to need cleats to effortlessly bounce across the field. Their bare toe was good enough to punt a ball, and men who ran into their long penises never seemed to make them pause.

In contrast, I spent days upon days in the university’s empty gym working my ass off to stay in shape. I pushed with all my might into the ground, ripping up dirt to get across the field. I wore a guard around my waist after a particularly painful and indescribable slide made me worry for my future fertility rates.

It was kind of odd though. Sure, the most common build for a man on the university’s campus was that of an 8 foot tall 300-pound muscle beast. But didn’t that seem weird? Soccer players are meant to be short, the physique is just better at that center of gravity. Thinking about it, I was sure that the university should have been attracting some other kind of talent. It was ludicrous to think that I was the only one of reasonable soccer player build to be on the team.

The two men moaned loudly as they each shot their loads, cumming directly onto my face. I merely wiped away the liquid, grateful to have something other than sweat to wipe up. Raul turned and stuck his long cock up Darrien’s ass, and without another word the two shuffled out of view. Their motion was in no way awkward, with that sort of thing being fairly normal movement.

“Let’s go Eric!” Coach shouted as he rounded the corner. He walked up to me and physically pulled me up out of my seat. He liked to play hard cop, but even I could see that his face was forced. He was staring me up and down, keenly aware of my physical condition. “You’re starting on the bench son.”

“Yes sir,” I said robotically.

Somehow, I made it out of the locker room as I seemed to instantly find myself on the bench. I watched as my teammates made effortless goal after effortless goal. An unlucky defender found himself facing down Raul, who effortlessly aimed his rock-hard cock to deflect the ball into the goal. It was his signature move.

The game ended 21-0. Both coaches were shocked to find there was no mercy rule on the record. The match continued out of obligation. Even after sitting down for almost an hour, I found myself almost unable to stand to meet the other team.

“Good game,” each man said to me in turn. Many of them looked as tired as I was as they shuffled back to their bus. Our team rowdily cheered as we clamored back into the locker room.

By the time we were all back inside, my teammates had taken to their usual celebratory activities: sex. A large dogpile had formed in the center of the room, player reaching over player to grab or take some cock.

“That was some excellent work men,” Coach said as he walked in clapping. Most of the men rolled over and sat up and cheered as coach took his position. The mob separated as each man took their own cock in hand or mouth. “Petey, take your dick out of Johnny for a second. I need you both paying attention.”

“Surw-wes-surw!” John said as he pulled himself off of the moaning Peter. The two midfielders sat up attentively as they took to their own cocks.

Coach was grinning ear to ear as he held up his clipboard. He adjusted his polo and cleared his throat. His mouth moved, but I could not hear if he said anything. Occasionally, the men in the room would “Hoorah!” and clap loudly.

I could not help but think in my daze: ‘Damn, all these men are hot.’

The exact thought crossed my straight and narrow mind, and I questioned it. What the fuck kind of thought is that? Raul was deepthroating his own cockhead and my thoughts are…hot?

My mind started to focus, telling me that this was what they always did. In the three years he’d been on this team, Raul had always sucked his own cock during postgame rundowns. And group sex was so standard! Clothes were practically passe…

Except that I wore clothes, didn’t have ravenous gay sex, nor did I have the flexibility to suck my own cock. Now, even as I gained more and more lucidity, the situation ahead of me seemed more and more wrong.

“You good son?” Coach said suddenly. I blinked for maybe the first time in an hour as Coach leaned down and looked at me. He looked concerned. “You’ve been off this evening and I’m concerned.”

I stared at coach, who I couldn’t help but feel was also off. He looked, different almost. Like something had changed in the last hour or so.

“Coach,” I asked. “Have you always been naked?”

“You must be really out of it!” Coach said, more concerned than amused. He stood up tall, his 8-foot frame blotting out some of the light. His rock-hard cock was bubbling up as cum dribbled down his shaft. “You go home and rest up. Coach’s orders. No workouts, no practices. I need you rested up son.”

Without another word, the terse man turned in his feet and walked out, leaving me alone in the room. I looked around to see if my teammates were still here, but all that remained were rather large puddles of cum. Almost too large of puddles.

“Raul?” I shouted. My voice echoed through the concrete. I waited a moment, and then heard something faint from afar.

“Raul?” I said again. The noise came much sooner and was much louder. It was almost like a moan, that of multiple men.

In the most unsettling game of Marco Polo yet encountered, I followed the noises through winding corridors and locker facilities that I hadn’t even known existed. Each step I took brought me closer and closer to the moaning.

Eventually, I came to a door that read “Women’s Sports Locker Room.”

“I didn’t think there were any women’s sports teams on campus,” I muttered to myself. The sex ratio was practically off the charts for men, completely abnormal for a public university.

Beyond the door though was the moaning, the groaning, the clear sounds of sex that I knew all too well. Now they just seemed different, dangerous, indicative of something else.

“Raul?” I said one last time. The moan that was emitted from behind the door was ear shattering. Clearly, all of the participants were calling out to me, insisting on my presence. With little resistance remaining, I slammed open the door.

“Finally!” Raul shouted. “You’re here!”

Inside the Women’s locker room was a pile of men much larger than what I’d seen before. Many were my teammates, but others were people I hardly recognized. The writhing mass of flesh was surrounded by couples and individuals on all sides, all facing away from the door. To the side, I could see the back of Raul’s head, his muscular body heaving with effort as he masturbated.

“Come here Eric!” Raul shouted over the noise. I stepped over bodies locked in pleasure to reach him. Even though I’d done this a thousand times, this time it seemed different.

“What the fuck is going on here, Raul?” I asked in a loud whisper. “Who are these people? What-why does this seem so…”

“It’s indescribable, I know,” Raul said. His eyes stared forward, his feverish pace never wavering. “Once you join the club…it all makes so much sense.”

“I’m part of the fucking soccer club idiot, I’m one of the fucking midfielders,” I said.

“The fucking midfielders are up there,” Raul said, gesturing with his head, unwilling to unfurl his hands from his cock for even a moment. Sure enough, John and Peter were 69ing just a few paces away. John was facing the same direction as Raul, but Peter, who was facing towards us, seemed to be struggling as he tried to strain his neck around to see something.

I took the hint and gazed out across the mass of people. Set up in the space was what seemed like an altar, a simple one made of wood. Candles had been ceremonially lit around a large picture frame depicting a man I had come to grow suspicious of.

“You want to join us?” Raul asked. The men continued their fervent jacking off. All of them faced towards the altar with the photo of Cameron Hastworth. Even Raul, who was still clearly speaking directly to me, had not ripped his gaze from the stand.

At first I stared at the altar. The photo was intoxicating. It was like before when I’d found that photo. I wanted to hold the photo. To look at it. It made me feel good. I felt myself reach down, grasping at the lump in my shorts.

But something about this scene didn’t play right with me. The more I looked, the more I stared. Surely…surely these men hadn’t always been like this? What soccer team has only men who are 8 feet tall? All of these extra men are also 8 feet tall. And Cameron…Cameron Cameron Cameron.

I turned around. I tore my gaze from the altar. I rushed through door after door of the athletic center. Thoughts were percolating in my brain. Dueling ideas were fighting with each other.

I was on the street still in my uniform. A man stood there, naked and jacking off. It made me feel uneasy. Then I was at the bus stop. Two men, naked and 8 feet of pure muscle were there. They were having sex. My stomach felt queasy. The bus arrived. The driver was naked. He had a Cameron tattoo straight across his bare muscular chest.

I scanned my card and sat down. The bus was full of normal people. Normal people. Not naked people. People of normal height. I glance around nervously. Indeed, the only naked person was the bus driver. And no one seemed to care. I felt like I shouldn’t care. Except, I did. I wanted to shout, but I knew no one would listen.

My head was spinning. By the time it stopped, a man was getting on. He was tall, muscular, and completely naked. Across his chest was the word Cameron. He set something on the ground before getting the attention of the driver.

“A fellow member!” cried the driver. He looked ecstatic.

“Another fan!” the man replied. Each reached out and grabbed each other’s dicks. A small squirt of cum shot out of each of them, both men smiling.

I felt myself leaning back in my chair. That was wrong. That was bad. People didn’t do that. People don’t do that in public, or in locker rooms.

“You don’t mind?” the man asked. He gestured at something, and the driver waved his hand. The two men smiled and the newer man rounded the corner.

In his muscular arms was a stack of papers, and on top were some pens. As he walked down the aisle, he handed every man and woman on the bus a sheet of paper and a pen.

My thoughts flashed back to the morning on the green. The circle of men. The man who was an English major. The… man who was an English major. He’d been…

Turning back, I blinked and noticed that there was another naked man on the bus. His figure was so enormous that it could not be ignored. Surely he hadn’t been there before.

I blinked and there was another. And another. I stiffened up but tried not to make myself seen. The original naked man had given people the papers just like on the green, and now people were becoming like them.

Slowly, the wall of enormous men moved further and further backwards. Everyone became the same. Their head always looked different, but their bodies were the same enormous hulking things that I had seen so much of.

I knew then that my teammates must have signed papers like these. That the men I’d taken for granted as being the norm had in reality only just appeared. I knew that there used to be more women on campus. Were those the female athletes at the altar?

“Paper?” came the man from the aisle. I jumped against the window. The man looked shocked, innocent even. Some of the other passengers, even those that were untransformed, looked at me with concern. Silently, the man put a form and a pen on the empty seat next to me before continuing to the very end of the bus.

I stared at the paper. It scared me. As did the men around me. Some of them had started jacking off. Others were touchy-feely, and few had even taken to anal intercourse.

The bus stopped, and I jumped up. Those men who were not already partaking in some kind of act looked at me with concern. I looked back and could see that no one else remained. Everyone had been transformed.

I fled from the bus, sprinting away the moment my shoes hit the pavement. All around me were naked men. Tall, identical men. All of them had the exact same Cameron tattoo. I only saw a half dozen normal people as a ran. Several of them even had pen and paper in hand.

The exterior of my dorm room was quiet, empty even. I hurriedly scanned my card, practically throwing myself into the building. The desk attendant, bored out of their mind by the looks of it, simply stared at me.

“You good?” she asked, hardly raising her intonation. One hand held up her head.

“Whatever you do,” I said rushing over to the desk like a mad man. “Don’t sign anything. Just say no. Refuse.”

The attendant stared me up and down with a mix of concern and disgust. I hurried off, speed walking down the hall to the elevator. The wait was tense as I climbed the building. The air was even tenser as I came to my floor

The air was almost silent. The usual bustle that would have been oh so common about now was absent. All that remained was the loud sound of a man moaning.

I practically crawled back to my dorm. Each step was more painful than the last. Every movement towards the door made the moaning get louder. When I reached for the handle, it was deafening.

I jumped out of my skin. Hayden was enormous. He too was 8 feet tall, incredibly hung and muscular, and completely naked. Across his chest was a ‘Cameron’ tattoo, the same as all the other men. He was in the entryway, jacking off with almost impossible speed. The walls were covered in cum, the very substance even oozing out of the carpet.

He said something to me, but I didn’t hear him. I practically collapsed in my bed, my uniform still on. I turned over and faced the wall. I could feel myself shaking. I grabbed my phone. Freddy…no. Benny hadn’t responded. In fact, no one I’d texted in the past two days had responded to anything. All friends at the university. All probably signed up for this insidious Fan Club.

“Aaaaaaaaaaah,” shouted Hayden. I jumped and turned to see he’d moved to his too-small bed, double fisting his enormous cock. Without me noticing, he’d placed a framed portrait of Cameron Hastworth directly across from him and was masturbating to it like his life depended on it.

Cum flew everywhere. A dribble landed on my bed and I let out a high-pitched squeal. I flung the covers over top of my like a toddler during a thunderstorm. I just needed to make it to the morning. Then it would become obvious that this was a bad dream. An unlucky bad dream was all it was. I was just in an unlucky. Bad. Dream.

“Are these meetings truly worthwhile?” I asked. I frowned at the proposal before me, adjusting my tight suit coat nervously. I stared at our HR director, a thoroughly intimidating woman even for me, the CEO.

“I’m afraid Mr. Mansfield was quite particular,” she said. Her face remained unmoved, her expression cold as ice. She handed me a second dossier filled to the brim with dozens of well organized files. There were graphs, feedback, and some very convincing numbers. “Many of the staff in the warehouse prefer it to the union.”

“But this is absurd Linda!” I said, almost raising my voice to a shout. I flipped around a graph on productivity that I found completely unbelievable. “You’re telling me that the members are seven times as productive?”

“I collected the data myself, Mr. Litch,” she replied. She sounded insulted, no doubt because I deigned to challenge her work. She instantly produced a small manila folder with several reports. “All 34 members of the club here responded with ‘Very Satisfied’ when asked about their opinion of integrating club meetings into the work day. In fact, the warehouse members are actually above average when it comes to productivity. Much of the time spent in meetings is during down time.”

“Downtime?!?” I shouted as I leaned forward. Linda merely cocked her head at me and I stiffened up again. Surely she couldn’t be serious about all this? “What about the one office?”

“The Lutz?” Linda asked rhetorically. Somehow she had another folder already in her hand.

“Yes, that’s the one,” I said. I eyed the folder with terror. Surely I should be overjoyed by the prospect of increased revenue. But this. This was horrifying. “You said that all—”

“Yes. All of them,” Linda replied. She slammed the folder down onto my desk, smoothly spreading out reports evenly across the face in one smooth motion. “417 employees, all members of the Cameron Hastworth Club. All absurdly more productive than non-member control groups in other buildings. The Lutz office is expected to make an extra $6.9 billion than—”

“Billion with a B!?” I shouted. Linda nodded, and I stopped her before she shoved some other nefarious document into my face. “What do these meetings involve?”

“I don’t very well care Mr. Litch,” Linda replied, acid practically spitting from each syllable. “Our major competitors are becoming more and more efficient, same as us. Pelbac has a membership rate of 47% and is expected to outcompete BylnTech within the week.”

“No shot, that is where I draw the line of believability Linda,” I said. I gulped as Linda gave me another terse look. I stiffened up and spoke more seriously. “Pelbac had a 2% market share, how on earth are they outcompeting BylnTech?”

“They have a very open policy for these things you see,” Linda noted. “A recent, publicly disclosed document circulated amongst the press about an outreach program encouraging membership. Their goal is 100% participation across the board.”

“And does our chapter of the Fan Club have a similar goal?” I asked.

“Not that I’m aware…” Linda said, letting her stone-faced facade falter for a single moment as she considered the question. “I’m sure Mr. Mansfield will have that information. He was the one who provided me with the Lutz data specifically.”

“Is Buck a member?” I asked. Buck Mansfield was our CFO, and had apparently done some of the preliminary data finding before passing it on to Linda. He’d mentioned it to me last time we’d talked. I think it was two weeks ago at golf? Maybe…or, uh…was it the matinee for Forbes?

“Mr. Mansfield is actually the founding member of the chapter,” Linda noted. I grumbled at that, it was just like Buck to start stirring up shit like this. Everyone knew he was eyeing my position. Rumor had it that Pelbac offered him CEO but he turned it down. Bet he resents that now.

“Can you send him up?” I asked. Linda furrowed her brow at me. “If he’s in the office that is.”

“You can’t call him yourself Mr. Litch?” she asked. “I can provide you or your secretary with his number.”

“Oh it’s just…uh,” I sputtered. I deftly pulled the plug under my desk before picking up the phone on my desk and shrugging my shoulders. “Line’s dead. I’ve been calling maintenance for weeks.”

“Calling?” Linda said with a raised eyebrow. I turned beet red. Linda sighed as she stood up, pulling all of her documents back into her dossier in one swift motion. “I’ll tell Patricia on the way out to call him up, Mr. Litch. Good day.”

With that, the sharp woman spun around on her heels and began robotically moving towards the door. It was unnerving how she only seemed to use her legs as she walked.

“Linda?” I asked tentatively. The director turned on her heels again, inhumanly fast. Her eyes bore into me. She said nothing, waiting for my question. I gulped. “Are…are you a member of this club?”

“Don’t be stupid Mr. Litch,” she said. She opened up her binder and quickly pointed at a specific line of text, all the while never breaking eye contact. “Fraternizing with employees could create conflicts of interest and would be a severe breach of my contract in line with Section XII paragraph 16, which is as follows…”

“Yes Linda, okay okay,” I said waving my hands at her as I turned around in my chair, unwilling to look at her for any longer than I needed to. “I understand. Please go about your day.”

Without another word, Linda hurried out of my office, the door slammed behind her. I heard her say a few sharp words to my secretary before stomping off. I sighed, I’d be sure to apologize to Patricia later. She was young and good looking, and seemed to have an eye for men like me. Maybe we could…no that’s a little too forward.

I sat there in my chair, waiting for what felt like forever. There were few moments that I sat in my office and allowed myself to stew in silence. I was convinced that this whole ordeal had been an elaborate prank, an out-of-season April Fool’s joke.

Reportedly, many of the members would gather around at designated times and masturbate naked to an effigy or portrait of “Cameron Hastworth.” I’d never seen this supposed man, nor technically had I seen the meetings.

It wasn’t really a problem of nudity, nor of masturbation. These man were all like that beforehand anyway, some even having sex in the break room or giving blow jobs under the desk. Completely normal, not weird in any way sort of thing. It was the fact that they were now meeting during work hours to do it together in the name of this man.

I had been immediately concerned about the productivity of these men, but as I’d just been informed by the most terrifyingly honest person I knew, the club was having the opposite effect.

“Mr. Litch!” shouted a recognizable voice from out in the hallway. Before I could turn around in my chair, the double doors to my office slammed open. In walked the recognizable figure of Buck Mansfield. He was tall, probably 7, maybe even 8 feet—I never could tell. His entire body was corded with thick muscle, which even at their enormous size beguiled a strength I knew was dangerously high.

“Mr. Mansfield,” I said politely. The room seemed to shake as the enormous man stomped across the room. His bare feet slapped against my expensive granite tiling, and his enormous dick slammed loudly against his legs with each step. Not that I was looking at it or anything, just an audible observation.

“Please Mr. Mansfield, I’ve been telling you for years to call my Buck,” the man said with a shit-eating grin as he sat down. He winked at me, and my blood started to boil. How I wanted to punch this man square in the jaw. I knew full well the man wouldn’t even flinch. One time, I’d seen him get hit in the leg by an accidental swing of a wedge on the green. The club snapped in two.

“Patrick called me up here, said you’ve got some sort of problem,” Buck said.

“Well, I’m sure Patrick didn’t phrase it like that,” I said politely. Patrick was often very well spoken, and was no doubt the best secretary I’d ever had. You could often hear when he was at work not from the sound of him typing or making calls, but by the rhythmic jacking off of his massive dick.

“I’m only joking Litch,” Buck said laughing. He slapped his knee with one hand before it seemed to magnetically grasp on to his own enormous meat stick. Buck had told me once that masturbating helped him focus on things, which was actually pretty similar to what Patrick told me. “He said you wanted to discuss the fan club.”

“Yes, Linda was showing me some numbers just now that seemed almost unrealistic,” I said. My eyes fell upon Buck’s enormous pecs, massive slabs of meat that seemed almost impossibly perfect. Every day I paid that good for nothing trainer to give me his drug cocktail and even I couldn’t achieve that level of definition and size. Buck had the word “Cameron” tattooed across his chest. Pretty ironic that the man had chosen to join a club dedicated to a man with that same name.

“What seems to be the issue?” Buck said innocently. He reached down with his spare hand and scratched up his ass. He let out a brief moan, and a trickle of pre-cum dripped out of his hard dick. “I saw some of her reports on the warehouse staff—”

“Yes but the Lutz building,” I said cutting him off. Buck seemed a little dumbstruck. He tended to “get confused” when things didn’t go his way, so I knew I was on to something. “Linda said she’d received the data from you.”

“And?” Buck asked. He put his free hand in the air as if to mimic his words.

“I don’t believe it,” I said flatly. Buck furrowed his brow and frowned. “Did you collect that data yourself?”

“No, obviously not,” he scoffed at me. He scratched at his exposed washboard abs as he sat up in his seat. His masturbation seemed to speed up. “I asked for a report from the middle managers. Raleigh…or Rainley, or something.”

“So you cannot personally attest to the veracity of this data,” I said point blank. Buck scoffed again, before loudly ejaculating his load all over the front of my desk. I sighed and hit my buzzer for Patrick. I cursed as I remembered that I’d unplugged the phone.

“I’ll clean it up Mr. Litch, I can fix my own mess,” Buck said confidently as he got down on all fours and began to lick up his own work. I was a bit taken aback that the man would stoop down to do that kind of work when I could easily call in Patrick or some other well-muscled intern to do it for us. Buck only did this when he wanted something from me.

“Well…you are a member of the club, are you not?” I asked.

“Eugh-huhgh,” Buck said as he peered over the edge of the desk, nodding.

“So you are…aware? Aware of the total membership?” I asked. I peered over the edge to see the mess almost entirely clean. As Buck finished one last spot, he sat back up in his chair, grabbing his still hard dick once again.

“Yes, as the founder I actually have the membership records for our chapter,” Buck said. The usually laid back, outgoing man was suddenly very serious. He almost looked wounded, as if something I’d done had damaged his pride. “We do a lot of a good work to help the company.”

“So you do have some proof that the Lutz employees are members?” I asked. Buck nodded and stood up. “All of them?”

“I gave some of the data to Patrick,” he said pointed his thumb behind him. “He’s organizing some of it digitally for me.”

“Might I remind you Mr. Mansfield that Patrick is my secretary, not yours?” I said curtly. Buck did his best Linda impression but ultimately failed to sway me.

“He works fast, I’m sure I could take some of it from him to show you,” Buck said passive-aggressively. I simply waved my hand at the door and he was on his feet.

Buck strode over quickly, again slapping his feet against the ground. It gave me a good view of his enormous ass, an impossible sphere of perfection. If only it was on a woman…

The door slammed behind the heavy man, and there was a brief sound of mutual pleasure. Patrick and Buck seemed to always fuck whenever he came up here. It would only take a moment, and was frankly a normal thing for them to do.

As I waited, my email suddenly pinged. It was a note from Lawrence, our HR director. I shuddered to think about the cruel words he no doubt was writing me.

Mr. Litch,

Attached is the contract document for the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club. As a measure of improving productivity, it is my opinion that we follow in the steps of our competitors and mandate membership for all employees. Mr. Mansfield made some very convincing arguments after my meeting with you and I have come around to his side. I have joined a separate chapter to avoid any conflicts of interest.

Regards,
Lawrence

I was dumbfounded. Never have I been able to convince that man to change his mind on anything. He was without a doubt the sternest person I knew. It didn’t help that he was 8 feet of solid naked muscle. This document was also completely idiotic. Even with zoom in I could not read all of the fine print. The only large print item was a simple signature line at the bottom.

“Woo-weee!” came a shout from the door as Buck barged back in. I turned to see the enormous man covered in cum from head to toe, hand still firmly around his hard cock. “That boy is something else.”

“Did you put Lawrence up to this?” I asked, gesturing at my screen as I turned it to face Buck. The man shrugged his shoulders defensively. “He was in my office less than an hour ago going on about it and now he’s gone and joined the damned thing!”

“You of all people should know how immovable that man is,” Buck said. “He’s a good fuck but ultimately the decision was his own.”

“Let’s see the membership,” I relented. Buck slapped a folder on my desk followed by his cock and pulled out the necessary internal documents.

“All the members of our chapter,” the man said as he spread the sheets out in a row. I could hardly look at the names as I was immediately drawn to the club insignia on the top right of each page.

It was an artistic rendition of the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. My dick seemed to suddenly point directly at the nearest image of the figure, jumping around as the document shuffled about the desk. I’d noted my envy at Buck’s physique, but this man was truly out of this world. It was like mathematical ratios had aligned to create the most aesthetically pleasing individual possible. His muscles seemed to ripple, I knew his dick would feel delicious in my mouth. The lust and phantom feelings I felt for this artwork were simply too much to describe. I could feel my penis at the verge of completion. It-—

“Wow, very gung ho all of a sudden,” Buck said pulling me from my stupor. I looked up at him, his enormous figure taking up my entire field of vision. He was tall enough that his waist extended well above my desk, but even still his dick was long enough that it rested neatly on it. I realized that my mouth was not only open, but mere inches away from Buck’s bubbling head.

“W-wuh?” I said. My mind was confused, foggy almost. I looked at my left hand, which had been clawing at my dress pants in vain. Embarrassed I placed it on the desk in front of me and sat back in my seat.

“You gonna finish signing that Mr. Mansfield?” Buck said, his voice booming. I looked up at him. I realized that his body seemed to remind me of…of that image. Buck simply pointed his finger over at my right hand. “You’ve almost put pen to paper.”

I looked over and realized that somehow I had grabbed a pen with my right hand. Even more unnerving, it had found its way towards a document that had been placed in front of me. My eyes widened as I recognized the illegibly small font I’d seen in my email. I’d already written half of my first name, and my hand was shaking.

“It’s a good club Mr. Mansfield,” Buck said. He placed an enormous hand on my quaking shoulder. His other hand folded itself around his dick, which began to leak pre-cum all over my desk. “We are very productive.”

“Can we move these meetings to after work?” I asked, voice quivering with each word. “Surely we could maximize productivity by increasing work hours.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t work Johnny,” Buck said shaking his head. “We already have meetings after work. Membership drives are in high demand.”

“Oh,” I said weakly. I looked down at my hand. I had written a few more letters without realizing it. I looked about my desk for that insignia again, but the papers had vanished. The image was still seared in my mind, etched into every brain cell.

“It’s very low pressure to join,” Buck assured. “Why don’t you just sign it? Join us tonight or something?”

“I-I-,” I said. I bit my lip, looking away from the man in front of me. My hands were shaking. I’d written ‘Litc.’

“H” Buck said loudly and aggressively. As my pen finished the loop and left the page, my dick slammed against the bottom of my desk. I practically screamed as I released my pent up load all over the fine wood of the desk. My vision seemed to go white as I imagined the glorious body of Cameron Hastworth. Every fiber of my being vibrated with the revelation of that which I had been so blind to miss before.

“Oooooooooh,” Buck moaned as he let off a similar sized load, showers of cum gushing across the desk and caking my bare chest with the sticky substance. As I heaved from the great effort, I licked up the bits that had fallen on my lips. My hand rested on my chest, covering up a bit of my ‘Cameron’ tattoo that so prominently annunciated my enormous pecs.

“I see the value in this now Buck,” I said as I stood up. Buck smiled, his emotions seemingly genuine for the first time in a decade. I smiled back at him. “I look forward to our partnership.”

“To Cameron Hastworth!” Buck said, raising his rock hard dick in a toast.

“To Cameron Hastworth!” I agreed as I mirrored him. We released a second load, equal to the first one. Again we were caked in cum, but suddenly I felt alive. I was a renewed man.

“I’ll tell Patrick to send that email,” Buck said as he began making his way to the door. I looked at his round juicy ass and bit my lip. I needed it and I needed it now, but it could wait until another day. I’d taken it before, I can take it again tomorrow. We had important work to do, and if I really got tight I could always call one of the interns in. I’m sure Patrick needs fucking anyways.

“I’ll let Lawrence know as well,” I said as I turned towards my computer. Quickly typing up a response with one hand, I began to grasp at my hard cock with my right hand. It was a familiar feeling, I did it all the time. I felt like a new man now, alive. As I hit send, my dick let out another load, caking my computer in cum, and I collapsed backwards into my seat.

I stared at the desk attendant. They were another one of the Nakeds. If I squinted, their face almost looked like the masculine version of the woman who’d been there the other night. It turned out she listened to me, it took her almost a month to sign the paper. She didn’t seem to see it, not like I could, I think she was just lazy.

The Nakeds, as I called them, were everywhere. Every night the campus, no the city descended into orgy. Not a single one of the men seemed to sleep, sex seemed to energize them through the night. It made it difficult for me to sleep. Imagine if every person everywhere was moaning loudly in the throes of passion.

No one texted me, no one posted anything. The internet still worked for some reason, but the internet remained eerily stagnant. Occasionally there was a news broadcast, probably only when there were enough people jacking off solo to run all the equipment. The broadcasts only ever amounted to what was essentially gay porn, meaning there was little for me to actually do.

I walked over to the drinking fountain, testing that the thing still worked. Thankfully, water gushed out of it, and I took a drink. It was becoming increasingly difficult to find regular meals. It turns out when everyone is transformed into gay super hunks devoted to nonstop sex and worshipping of Cameron Hastworth, there’s little time to run restaurants or stock grocery shelves.

I walked out the back door of the building, avoiding the green. The sight there was horrific, a pile of writhing, orgasming men almost a story tall. The place reeked so strongly of sex it hurt, and navigation was essentially impossible. One day I had braved it and was almost accidentally drawn into it.

I took backroads and alleyways, running into only a handful of individuals, couples, and a pathetic pile of 20 or so transformed Nakeds. I couldn’t help but stare each time I walked past them. All of them were so infuriatingly muscular and attractive, it just seemed unfair. The temptation to sign one of the thousands of unsigned papers that littered the streets was immense, but I persisted.

Eventually, I came across the current house I’d been raiding. A small family sized hole on the outskirts of town, it seemed like it had originally been inhabited by an elderly couple. The interior decor was gaudy and recalled an era long past. The couple, of course, still lived there. They were transformed into a pair of Nakeds, and they were always 69ing in the living room every time I walked through the door.

As the pair moaned in the other room, I pulled out some of their frozen ham along with a few slices of bread. The couple had a freezer full of bulk ordered goods, it had been a true score when he’d come across it.

I sat in their living room, sitting on their floral couch with my prepared plate. Every photo in the living room seemed to have been retroactively altered. There was the naked couple on their naked wedding day (in black and white), the naked couple at one of their naked son’s naked weddings. Each person in each photo was the same height and build, all naked, and all proudly displaying their ‘Cameron’ tattoos.

“Ooooooooh,” moaned one of the men on the floor. The pair had changed positions, a rare sight. The moaning man was leaning backward on the floor as his husband ate away at his knee-length cock. How these men downed such a large penis escaped me.

The man leaning back moaned as his eyes rolled back, his cock spanning and ejaculating in his husband’s mouth. The husband’s equally long and hard cock had been pointing forward, almost parallel with his chest as it released its contents. Neither man’s cock diminished, nor did they stop their ravenous sex after completion.

“Rumor has it, you’re the last one,” came a voice from the door. It was a voice filled with acid, the smell of arsenic strong in my nose. I turned towards the new visitor, too numb to the situation to feel disbelief.

There Cameron was, leaning in the door frame. Over the past month or so, I’d gotten to know him very well. I knew every crevice, every crack, and every chord of muscle on that man’s body. I could feel the perfection that he exuded in my bones. He had copied it onto Hayden and Raul and Ben and all the other men I’d seen, and god damnit I could not now look away.

“Rumor has it you’re the last one,” Cameron repeated. He smiled at me.

“At the university?” I said as I sat up. I set my plate to the side, practically unfinished. Cameron smiled.

“Don’t be naive,” Cameron said. “You may think it would be difficult to verify 8 billion people, but we keep very good numbers, my friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” I said point blank. I looked up and down at the gorgeous man before me. I’d seen that body a thousand times a day, but somehow his version was just infinitely better. “Though I bet ‘with some luck’ I could be huh? That was always your thing.”

“You’re pretty clever Eric,” Cameron said, his smile fading for the first time in memory. He stood up straight and walked into the room. “Luckily there’s a chair here for me.”

Instantly, a chair materialized next to the man, who took it and sat down lazily. He was, of course, completely naked. In a rare sight for me, his knee length cock actually rested softly against his legs. It did not so much as twitch.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think on it,” I said as I leaned further back. My cock had grown hard and was pointing directly and uncontrollably at Cameron. “This hell that you’ve made.”

“Hell for you maybe,” Cameron said laughing. “If you signed my little lease agreement you’d have free tickets to residency in heaven.”

“It has been hard…” I bemoaned. I took my eyes off of Cameron, something I hadn’t actually expected myself to be able to do. I looked back at the couple on the ground, their position returning to their usual 69.

“It’s been hard for me too,” Cameron said. I furrowed my brow. Hard for Cameron? Surely not. He made the world into his living breathing sex fantasy. I turned to look at him and contest that, instead to be greeted by his enormous cock.

The thing had grown twice, maybe even three times its original length and had hardened completely. It now reached from Cameron’s waist all the way over to my face where it dribbled pre cum at me.

“Hard for me too,” Cameron repeated, laughing uproariously. I couldn’t help but shiver at the cock in front of me. So big, so powerful, so close.

In an instant, the cock seemed to extend. Cameron seemed to take advantage of my drooping mouth as he slammed his cock down my throat. My body was helpless and my mouth and tongue wrapped around the shaft, my hand reaching out to grasp it. My dick pushed itself against my shorts and my legs almost seemed to float off the ground toward the thing.

“Now Eric,” Cameron said firmly. “You may think I’ve grown tired of this. You may think in that little head of yours that I’ve come to you because you’re the only one left.”

I was not thinking.

“You would be dead wrong,” Cameron said. His shaft seemed to funnel itself further and further down me, as if Cameron himself were filling me with his cock. The feeling was indescribable, I could not believe the sensations I was feeling. And as my cock shoved itself against my pants, I willed and begged it to release its load, but it just would not.

“I won’t be satisfied until every single person personally joins the Cameron Hastworth Fan Club,” Cameron said. His body was now much closer, his waist directly against my forehead. He thrust his pelvis at me, and my entire body seemed to shake. I didn’t know how he’d gotten all that cock into me, but it was like I could feel it in every vein of my body.

“You are the only one who resisted,” Cameron said as he cradled my head with one of his hands. He arched his back and let out a deep sigh. “Normally I’m just so lucky with these things. People just tend to fall into place. You are the first person I’ve ever been unlucky to meet.”

My eyes shut as my body shook with anticipation. I wanted, needed Cameron. I had wasted this past month, no, my entire life not being a part of this. He was so generous, so magnanimous. He was providing me we transcendence.

And in an instant, I was empty. I had not cum, but suddenly Cameron had pulled his cock out of me. I collapsed back onto the couch, gasping for air. I didn’t want the air, I wanted the cock. I looked up at the towering man before me. He seemed bigger than the rest of the men, as if he alone could be taller and stronger. All men were equal beneath him.

“You can have it back, and all you should desire,” Cameron said, his smile widening. In his hand was a sheet of paper, the print too small to read. In the other, was a pen.

“If you just sign this paper.”

I stood up to my full 8-foot height. My broad frame of 300 pounds filled me out. I blinked as in my hand I held a pen, and the signed piece of paper. It had happened so quickly, so fast. I looked down at my naked body, at my Cameron tattoo that I proudly displayed on my chest. Cameron towered over me by at least an extra foot. My body was but an imperfect copy of his deific incarnation.

“What is it you want?” Cameron asked. Months ago, I had barely known of this man’s existence. Now…

“Nothing,” I managed as my hard cock bubbled to life. “You’ve already given me everything.”

I stood before Cameron, my heart pounding in my chest. His massive form loomed over me even more now, every inch of him carved from marble, a god-made flesh. I was but a mere mortal in comparison, my body already quivering with anticipation.

“I have given you everything, haven’t I?” Cameron said smiling. I loved that smile. How could I ever have thought it acidic or malicious? Cameron grabbed my shoulders. “Kneel.”

I knelt. My knees welcomed it, pain and all. It was the price I paid for belonging. That was all I wanted.

Cameron pulled me forward by my hair until my face was pressed against his cock. I felt the warmth and wetness of his leaking cock against my cheek. The longer slender shaft made its way down my neck, all the way to my pecs. He held me there for several moments, his thick shaft rubbing across my lips. I parted them slightly, tasting the salty drops on the tip of my tongue.

In one swift motion, he pulled the shaft back, and then thrust forward, forcing his entire length into my mouth. I gagged around him, my throat working to accommodate his girth. My hands grasped at his thighs as he began to fuck my face in earnest.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned. “This is what I wanted.”

I moaned around him. I wanted this too. How lucky I was to have this. He was hitting the back of my throat with each thrust of his hips, his cock digging deeper and deeper until it began to fill me once more. I felt the first wave of his hot seed hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed eagerly, wanting all of him. He continued to pump into me, filling me with his being. I could feel it fill me so much that it began dripping out of the corners of my mouth. But Cameron didn’t stop there. I was lucky enough that he kept going, his cum still flushing through my system again and again. After an hour, no, maybe a day, he finally pulled out of me, and I collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted.

I stared down at the floor. The couple still remained, their sexual act never ceasing. As per usual, they hardly seemed to have acknowledged an outside presence, even that of the mighty Cameron. How lucky they were to witness this man, how lucky I was. I slowly got up, and Cameron, still naked and brilliant, walked over to me. He smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“You look like you enjoyed yourself,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. I couldn’t help but nod, feeling a sense of pride. My cock stood hard at attention, already refilled. Any soreness that I had had vanished, I was almost convinced I’d imagined it.

“You are a lucky find,” Cameron said, his words pouring into me. “I’m almost glad you held out so long.”

I reached out, almost desperate to feel Cameron once more, but he swatted my hand away quickly.

“Almost,” he said with a grin. In one swift motion, he’d grabbed me by my waist and turned me around. Cameron towered above me once more, his eyes burning with sublime intensity. His cock was already in my asshole, its tip bubbling with pre-cum. My hips shook in anticipation.

“Lucky, lucky, lucky,” he repeated as he began to pound my ass. Each thrust he repeated it.

Lucky, lucky, lucky, I thought to myself. Each thrust I repeated it.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

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