Bending the straight boys

by iciss

At first all those hot straight guys seemed like real jerks. And then they started getting hunkier, and hornier, and a lot more aware of each other.

I was on my way home from a business trip to New York, taking the three-times-daily shuttle from JFK to LAX, when it happened. I’d gone with a couple buddies from work to see the infamous Madame Espoza over on Seventh Avenue, and it had been quite a riot. She told me I’d impressed her with my kind heart and she would endow me with what she called “new powers of persuasion.” No explanation of what that meant, but I didn’t feel any more persuasive when we left her booth.

I hung with my buddies for the rest of the night before our flight out in the morning. They’re both straight, but they’re great guys and totally cool with my preference for sweaty, muscular men over smooth-skinned, full-breasted girls. They still wouldn’t be caught dead in one of the gay clubs I like to swing through, but they don’t crack jokes like a lot of the other guys in the office.

Of course, most of those guys have no idea I dig the cock. I’m as straight as they come on the outside, full, muscular body standing 6’1”, dress well but not too well, with loose brown hair and a sports-loving, engaging demeanor. So most people feel free to joke with me about “fags” and “ass pirates” and “fudge packers”…and, most of the time, I just let it go. Same goes for my buddies, Jake and Ryan, who’d kick somebody’s ass to cover mine, but don’t bother since I told them it doesn’t matter to me.

The three of us sat together in the terminal waiting for the flight, a little worn out from the night before. We’d had a meeting that morning and we were all in various stages of undressing from that—I’d pulled off my tie and jacket and let my blue button-down lose a few buttons. Next to me, Jake had loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves on his white Oxford, still neatly tucked into his brown pants. Ryan looked much the same except he wore a blue shirt like mine, which was tucked into a pair of black pants. They both looked totally hot, Jake as he read a brief and played with a pen in his mouth, Ryan as he leaned back and ran his hands through his shaggy blond hair.

Though I’d moved to LA from the Midwest, Jake and Ryan were both California boys who’d stashed their surfboards for suits when they saw the business world got them more money and more girls. But in their hearts they were still running shirtless on the beach getting drunk and chasing waves. I wish I’d known them back then—even though they weren’t interested in me, I didn’t mind checking them out when I had the chance. And both of them were more than a little narcissistic—I think they actually liked it when I snuck a glance at Ryan’s tight ass under his Brooks Brothers slacks or Jake’s powerful chest bulging nicely into his pressed shirt.

But today I was distracted from my two hunky coworkers by a couple of groups who were apparently going to be joining us on our flight. The first was a foursome of businessmen just like us, clearly based in New York (they had a look) and all four just oozing the sexual confidence of a 25-year-old big-time trader.

I’d seen plenty of guys like these on our trips. They were hot, sure—and these guys were no exception: a tall blond dressed like me with no tie, a younger-looking brown-haired stud whose tie was loosened around his collar, a shorter but bulkier Italian guy who wore a really nice striped tie, white shirt, and black pants, all pressed neatly and pushed out by his impressive muscle, and finally a guy with gelled black hair and dark skin, by far the most handsome, could have been a model if he weren’t so muscular. He also had a loose tie around his neck and an impressive bulge in his tight brown pants.

But I could tell these guys were assholes, and my first snippet of overheard conversation confirmed it.

“You guys see that fag at the ticket counter?” said the Italian hunk, pressing his hand to his stomach. “Swear the dude was checking me out.”

“In your dreams, Corelli,” said the blond guy, unbuttoning another of his shirt’s buttons to my pleasure.

“He was, dude,” broke in the young stud, running his fingers down over his tie. “But he was checkin’ out Parker here too.”

The guys laughed, looking at Parker, the black-haired Adonis. “Wouldn’t be surprised, Jensen, I’m a hell of a lot better to look at than you are.”

Jensen frowned as Corelli and the tall blond hunk laughed. “Fuck you, man, I wouldn’t want some cocksucker sizing me up anyway.”

“It’s okay, man,” said Parker. “Me and Bailey get all the girls, you’re stuck with our sloppy seconds.” Bailey, the blond stud, grinned. “Don’t blame you for being jealous.”

I didn’t realize I’d been staring at them till Jensen, the cute young brown-haired guy, looked at me and scowled. “Something interesting over here, fag boy?” The other three looked over at that, and I felt all four of their icy stares at once.

I said nothing, just turned away. “Fuckin’ faggot,” Parker muttered, to the approval of the other three, then they wandered off. Jake and Ryan hadn’t noticed the little exchange, but it wasn’t really worth riling them up over anyway.

Just as the four meatheads were leaving, five others walked up, obviously a group of high school athletes from California, their tanned skin, built physiques, and “Miramar” letter jackets telling me the whole story. I checked them out more discreetly but with no less interest. Weirdly enough, they were also talking about an encounter with a gay guy.

“If that fag ever touches me again…” I heard one of them—Morris by the name of on his jacket—saying to his buddy, Nichols.

“Dude, you should have kicked his ass,” Nichols said. He was gorgeous in his jock anger, his biceps and pecs tensing beneath his gray t-shirt like he wanted to fight the queer right there. Morris, a stacked blond just like Nichols, was nodding and clenching his fists.

Behind them, the other three guys weren’t involved in the conversation but were instead discussing their own sexual exploits. One, a hunky Latino with gelled black hair and light brown skin—Ramirez—was explaining to the other two, “Then I fucked her in the car, up the ass, on all fours, she couldn’t fuckin’ get enough…”

The other two ate it up—Stanton, a smaller guy but very handsome with shaggy blond hair, and Foley, an innocent-looking stud who was easily the hottest of the bunch.

Jake and Ryan had heard those little excerpts too, and were smiling to each other. “I remember those days,” Jake said, running his fingers through his gelled brown hair.

“Fuckin’ great, dude, bangin’ chicks on the beach,” Ryan added wistfully, reaching down to adjust his cock under the pants. The memories were apparently fairly arousing for my buddy—I made out the outline of his handsome bulge for a split second before looking away.

“Sorry, Dave,” said Jake to me, “I’m sure bangin’ guys on the beach was fun too.”

“You stupid shit,” I laughed, smacking him on the head. It was funny how similar they were to the other guys we’d just seen even though they were much more accepting of me. I wished—just briefly, but very intensely—that guys like that could see the way I felt for once.

Just then our flight was announced and we all lined up to go in. Inside the plane, Jake and Ryan were across the aisle from each other with me in the seat behind Jake. The four New York traders sat all in one row, Parker and Corelli on one side, Jensen and Bailey on the other, two rows in front of us. Parker cast me another cold glare as he saw me sitting down. The five Miramar jocks piled in the row in between—Ramirez and Morris in front of Jake and Nichols and Stanton in front of Ryan. Foley—to my surprise and delight—sat across the aisle from me. No one sat by Jake or Ryan or by me, but the rest of the plane filled more or less to capacity. It was quite a coincidence, and just my luck, that the nine guys I’d been checking out were all sitting within two rows of me.

As we taxied out, Ryan and Jake talked a little business and I caught Morris giving the story of the offending fag to Ramirez, who grimaced appropriately. The businessmen had now moved on top topic #2 for guys like them—girls. I could tell this was gonna be a long flight and prayed they had liquor. I leaned back in my seat and let my eyes flutter shut as the plane took off.

I was awoken just ten minutes later by the feeling of something tingly rushing through my body. It started at my feet and worked its way all the way up to my head. By the time it passed, I was sitting up, wide awake, wondering what the hell had just happened.

I barely had time to catch my breath, though, before I heard a voice to my left. “Hey, buddy.” A soft, sexy voice, deep and very hot. I looked over. Foley, the hottest of the five hot jocks, was staring at me in a way no straight guy had ever stared at me.

“Yeah?”

He licked his lips, half nervously, half sexually. My cock sprang to life. “You in business?” he said, looking over my shirt and pants, lingering a little on the pants.

I couldn’t focus on him, though, because two rows ahead of me, Parker and Corelli, the two black-haired New York hunks, were standing in the aisle, openly stroking each other’s arms and chests. Corelli’s hands were slipping off the buttons of Parker’s shirt and pulling off his loosened tie, letting the whole mass of fabric tumble to the ground and leaving Parker’s tanned, muscular body shirtless. I stared in astonishment as Parker reciprocated, unbuttoning Corelli’s carefully assembled shirt and leaving the Italian hunk just as shirtless as he was.

I wondered why their buddies weren’t doing anything about this until I saw them too. Jensen, a foot shorter than Bailey, was kneeling in his seat, his face buried in the crotch of the standing blond stud. Bailey’s groans of pleasure made it clear that the cute young trader who’d called me “fag boy” earlier now had his buddy’s thick cock deep in his throat. Bailey opened his eyes long enough to glance over at me. Instead of a scowl, he smiled lustily, his expression asking silently if I wanted in next.

Standing in shock, I looked back to the beautiful jock sitting next to me. It wasn’t till right then that I realized Foley was shirtless, his tight green polo and letter jacket tossed in the seat, and his perfectly muscled, beautifully tanned torso was on display for me. He stood with me, and I looked down to see a massive bulge in his jeans—had to be at least 7 or 8 thick inches of cock pushing into Foley’s denim. He advanced on me, sex in his hot blue eyes.

“What about your friends?” I said, backing up.

Foley grinned, sending more power rushing into my boner. “I don’t think they give a shit, dude.” And he motioned to the two seats below me where his buddies had been sitting.

Morris, the stud blond who’d been complaining about getting hit on by a gay guy, was locked in a passionate kiss with his teammate Ramirez, the same guy who’d been bragging about nailing girls. Girls seemed to be the farthest thing from his mind now as he clutched Morris’ solid shoulders through the tight black t-shirt the blond hunk wore and felt the pleasure of making out with another hot jock. They were whispering to each other between kisses, and one particular comment lit up Morris’ eyes. The muscular athlete grinned and pulled up his shirt, unbuckling his belt and shucking his tight jeans. I stared in awe at the enormous bulge the California jock’s dick was making in his gray boxer briefs.

Hearing a moan from the other side of the plane, I turned to see Nichols, his face scrunched in pleasure, as he felt Stanton’s nimble fingers shoot up under his form-fitting gray shirt to tweak his handsome nipples. He was also stroking Stanton’s obviously large and thick cock through the fabric of his buddy’s red mesh shorts, his new interest in big jock meat clear to all.

I turned back to Foley. “I thought you guys were straight…”

“Straight, gay…it’s just a matter of perspective.” With that the gorgeous teen jock grabbed me by my muscular sides and kissed me hard. I couldn’t believe this was happening as I felt Foley’s hands slide down to grip my ass through my brown pants, but I wasn’t about to complain, and I kissed the handsome stud back as his buddies continued their own gay explorations.

“Hey, Dave,” interrupted a voice from behind me, “you never said it was this good, stud.” I quickly recognized the voice as Ryan’s, then slowly realized he’d called me “stud,” and finally realized what he’d said. I turned with great anticipation to see him and Jake, my two hot, straight-arrow buddies, huddled in Ryan’s seat with their shirts unbuttoned, their pants undone, and their hands all over each other.

“Ryan, dude…are you…” I stuttered as I watched Jake lean over and kiss Ryan softly on the lips.

“Totally hot for my buddy?” he finished, running his hand from Jake’s hot gelled brown hair down over his muscular torso to slip inside his black pants and gray boxer briefs. Jake’s new hands were now threading through Ryan’s cute mop of blond hair. “Yeah, dude, I am.”

As Foley started kissing me again and I watched as my totally straight buddies—guys I knew would never touch another man—continued making out and feeling up each other’s muscled bodies, I suddenly remembered my wish. No way, I thought, that’s fuckin’ impossible.

I turned to my handsome LA jock and stared in his beautiful blue eyes. I felt his hands slide down my pants to grip my rock-hard cock. “Were you gay before, man?”

“Why are you so hung up on that, stud?” said Foley, stroking my dick. He backed off, pulling on his green polo again. I marveled at how hot this kid was. “You should just enjoy the moment. But if you have to know, no, I’m a straight, chick-loving jock boy…at least, I thought I was till I met you.”

That was it. My “powers of persuasion” had turned these guys gay. For some reason, I wasn’t scared of that idea like I should have been, but instead started thinking about where else I might take this. It’d sure be nice if these boys all packed on a little muscle, and a little more power down below…

It was astonishing how quickly it worked. I watched as Foley grunted and began to grow, his pecs and biceps swelling into the green polo, his shoulders broadening. Eventually it ripped off completely, leaving him shirtless again, only this time he was even bigger and more ripped than before. He wrapped me in his huge arms, kissing me hard as his massive chest and absolutely cut stomach pressed against me. I felt his cock growing beneath his jeans, pushing out and threatening to break free of its barrier.

Behind him, I saw Parker’s back and shoulders packing on muscle and adding deeper definition. His ass also bulged farther into his pants, the bubble of his muscular bubble butt expanding. He turned a moment later and the Adonis stock trader’s bulked up pecs, erect nipples, ripped abs, tight obliques, and most of all enormous 10-inch cock pushing hard into his pants were all revealed to me.

Corelli had also grown. He’d been pretty bulky before, but now he’d grown taller and his muscle had gained a lot of definition. Parker groaned and clenched his eyes as Corelli’s massive arms snaked around his side, one hand pressing palm-down on his buddy’s solid left pec, the other fishing into Parker’s pants to start jacking his aching 10-incher. Soon I realized that Parker, who’d given me two icy glares for being a fag, was taking it up the ass from his ripped coworker.

Beside them, Bailey’s cock had started to grow while it was still deep in Jensen’s throat, and the blond stud grinned widely as his younger buddy choked on the massive piece of New York prime meat. Meanwhile his upper body was growing too, and he flexed powerfully, ripping the buttons off his shirt. It fell open and suddenly I could see his huge, rounded pecs and magnificent eight-pack, all squeezing tight as Jensen lovingly sucked on his expanded prick.

The last of the business studs had not escaped my desires either—I could easily tell as he lifted his arms to stroke Bailey’s pecs and I saw his broadened shoulders and back straining the seams of his white collared shirt that Jensen was getting as built and hung as his buddies.

Foley had dropped his pants and was rubbing his muscular ass hard into my aching erection as I continued taking in the changes to the guys from the terminal. Stanton’s massive cock, swollen from 8 inches to a handsome 10, had busted free of his mesh shorts and was leaking precum all over the seats. He’d continued stroking Nichols’ nips, but had spun his buddy around, holding him tight with his overgrown guns, and eased his hot jock prick into the gorgeous blond athlete’s muscle ass.

I watched as Stanton fucked Nichols hard, each thrust seeming to drive more power into Nichols’ muscular body. The blond hunk’s cheeks and jaw became more chiseled, his neck thickened, and cords of muscle packed onto his arms and legs. The gray t-shirt hugged his huge pecs tighter and tighter as his chest exploded with muscle. Below that Stanton’s hand was caressing Nichols’ tight six-pack and nicely curving obliques, leading straight down to his crotch. And that’s where the horny Stanton moved next, loosening Nichols’ jeans and boxers and groping his buddy’s thick cock as he kept fucking him. Nichols moaned, his hot shaggy blond California stud hair waving, as his dick poured precum onto the seat, growing longer and thicker with each creamy shot. The kid who’d looked ready to pound the fag who hit on his friend seemed pretty pleased with the cock and muscle he was being treated to now.

I was now full-on fucking Foley, feeling him growing beneath me just like his buddies. God, this was hot, nailing tight straight jock ass and watching all these dicks who’d fucked around with gay guys before get a taste of it for themselves.

The bulge in Morris’ boxer briefs had grown so big the huge cockhead actually stuck out above the waistband. He’d lost his t-shirt so I could see clearly that his already muscular torso had become almost god-like, hard, rounded pecs with large nipples peeking out from each one, broad muscled shoulders and thick, veined biceps and forearms all squeezed and bulged into Morris’ well-tanned skin. The gorgeous blond athlete’s six-pack had been jacked up to a ripped eight-pack, each ab painstakingly defined. His tight obliques flexed and twisted as Morris grew.

He was still making out with Ramirez, whose hunky Latin body had thickened all over and packed on layer after layer of cut muscle. Their tongues wrestled as the two jocks’ hands roamed all over each other’s ripped bodies. Suddenly Morris moaned and I saw that Ramirez had dropped down to his leaking cock, grown from 7 to 9.5 bulging inches, and was slowly but confidently sliding the entire throbbing mass of hot jock meat into his tight throat.

I thought I was going to lose it right then, especially with Foley now squeezing his tight ass around my cock and grunting for me to fuck his tight straight-boy hole harder, but that was before I caught another glimpse of Ryan and Jake.

“Holy shit…” I whispered as I caught sight of my two buddies, who just minutes before had been talking about the great times they had banging chicks. Ryan had bust out of his blue button-down, the shirt ripped in the front and at the seams on his shoulders. His handsome pecs had only gotten better, two beautiful bulges of muscle each topped off with a taut pink nipple. His abs, which I could see as Jake ripped the shirt the rest of the way off, were now a gorgeous eight-pack. Ryan’s biceps had swollen several inches with muscle, running a hand through his loose blond hair, as he tossed the remnants of his shirt and tie on the ground.

Beside him, Jake was still changing. My hunk buddy grew quickly into his white work shirt as Ryan kissed up and down his neck. Jake moaned loudly, his back arching, as his chest and shoulders exploded into his shirt. Ryan helped him out of it, and my stud coworkers were both shirtless. Jake had been wearing a beaded necklace—a holdover from college in California, and one I didn’t mind cause he looked hot with it on—and now the thing was stretched almost to breaking by his massive neck. Sweat covered both muscular studs’ tanned chests and jacked stomachs as they got really hot for each other.

“Dude,” I heard Jake whisper, “nice cock…” Ryan’s belt and pants were already undone, so when he looked down it was easy to see that his already-sizable cock had grown out into a thick 11-inch ass-fucking monster. It had freed itself from Ryan’s boxer briefs and now stood full mast, dripping loads of precum.

Ryan stroked his cock a little, staring at Jake’s crotch too. “What about yours, stud?” And in fact, Jake’s beautiful California stud dick, 8 thick inches before, now pushed a foot of hot young cock meat. It poked out of his pants, just as wet as Ryan’s, dripping prefuck all over Jake’s gorgeous abs.

“Fuck, stud, I know we’re both straight,” said Ryan, though the way he was now massaging Jake’s thick pecs and massive biceps already made that doubtful, “but I gotta have that cock.” He pulled off Jake’s pants and without hesitation licked up and down his buddy’s footlong dick, tasting hot stud cock for the first time. I couldn’t believe my own eyes as Ryan deep-throated Jake, Jake’s fingers curling into Ryan’s thick blond hair as he sucked hard.

And they only seemed to grow bigger as they took their first crack at hot male sex. Jake leaned back, flexing his chest and arms and feeling them continue to grow out and define themselves into taut biceps and monstrous pecs. I had to admit, the dude looked really fucking good. And as he came hard down Ryan’s throat, and the two muscle studs that had been my straight friends stood and kissed, sharing Jake’s load, their nearly footlong cocks rubbing hard together, their tanned and shredded abs and pecs pressing hard against each other, I closed my eyes and felt my dick erupt into Foley’s ass.

It was toward the end of the summer when this crazy story happened—around the time when kids go out to ballgames less to watch a game than to get totally shitfaced and go nuts with their friends. This was especially true for fans of teams like the Orioles, who tailed off into a pathetic losing record in August.

And this is when I showed up to their game against the worst team in the division, the Devil Rays. Terrible crowd—maybe 15,000 in the whole place, and half were drunk. Up where I sat with two friends, it was more like 75% drunk, because the college kids had all gotten cheap tickets on this Friday night. And damn, were they drunk.

From where my friends, Kerry and Derek, and I sat, we could see no fewer than four distinct groups of reveling students. Just below us, four guys had come with more interest in the game than most—they had stripped off their shirts and painted GO O’S on their four chests in black and orange paint. It was a sight I didn’t mind—the guys were hot enough—but they’d gotten so totally smashed that they were starting to look a little disheveled. The two guys spelling GO, both brown-haired studs in cargo shorts and flip-flops, held onto each other precariously as the beer clouded their heads. The other two guys were even drunker—a built blond with the S painted carefully on his pecs and six-pack, his boxers and jeans hanging low enough that I could see all of his tight obliques, and another guy with a shaved head, sporting an O on his less defined but still bulky torso. His mesh shorts rose to his weakly defined stomach and bulged out over his handsome ass. Both of them were slumped over the metal railing at the front of our section.

To their left, a group of three guys had been pounding beers and yelling at passing girls almost since the game started. Two appeared to be twins, medium-sized, well-built and tan guys in a blue and white striped polo and a tight gray t-shirt. Their companion was a bigger guy, with brown hair like theirs but longer, and better muscled. The twins both wore form-fitting jeans, but the shaggy-haired stud sported beige cargoes along with his nicely fitting navy blue and orange UVA t-shirt. Actually, I could see they were all from UVA—the twin in the polo had on a Cavaliers hat flipped backwards, and the other twin’s t-shirt was for UVA’s chapter of Sigma Nu.

Directly to our left, four studly Navy boys had come in uniform from Annapolis, where the Naval Academy was located. All four were nicely built, very handsome, and having a good time. They weren’t drunk—they maintained a level of decorum while they wore the uniform—but they were clearly enjoying themselves and I think I spotted a hip flask on one of them as they stood for a break at the end of an inning.

Finally, to our right, were the drunkest of all, three guys who’d clearly already hit the wall but were still going strong in spite of it. The guy in the middle was the hottest by far and the farthest gone—he leaned on his friends as they sat together, his impressive guns bulging into his black t-shirt as he squeezed their shoulders. All three were Italian guys, but not huge guidos, just hot in that nicely muscled Mediterranean stud kind of way.

The stud in the middle had a great ass, visible under his camo cargo shorts. I just wanted to reach over and grab it. His shoulders and back were beautiful, and his legs were incredible, from the calves down to where they sank into his loose gray New Balances. His buddies were not much less attractive. Both were dark-haired and well put together. The guy on the left was a little taller, his muscular torso pressing hard into a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. The other was still about 6’0”, with his own well-packed muscle squeezed into jeans and a tight, light blue t-shirt. These three guys were all over each other—the guy in the middle clenched his friends’ arms to keep from falling, but ended up feeling them up not half badly along the way. Meanwhile, each of them had a hand on his tight muscle ass, holding him up. I was getting hard, and fast.

My buddies were pretty far gone themselves. Both of them were straight and had had girlfriends all through college, but had broken up after graduating and moving apart. Both were also obscenely hot—Kerry was a soft-eyed stud from Minnesota who played baseball, Derek a more rugged guy from New York who was just as handsome. I was enjoying looking at them, too, after seven or eight beers had loosened them up.

I knew about what I could do from the incident on the plane, but hadn’t done anything with it since then. But as I stared around at all the hotties sitting in my section—not to mention my two buddies that I’d lusted after for years—I found myself unable to resist entertaining thoughts of changing some of the guys around me…

The shirtless GO O’S boys were the first to feel it. The two brown-haired hunks, who’d been holding onto each other as they filled up with beer, now began doing more than simply balancing. The stud wearing G let his hand slip down to clench his friend’s tight ass under his cargoes. His buddy sporting the O was a little more forward after this first effort, turning to his friend and placing a hand meaningfully on one of his pecs.

Even as they began this early exploration of each other’s bodies, I could see they were changing—G’s pecs swelled and tightened under O’s hand, and his back and shoulders followed suit, their definition clearly deepening. Both their asses tightened and bulged out into real muscle butts under their cargoes. A moment later the two guys who’d have been at home at any of the frat houses in college were thrusting their lips together in a passionate kiss.

They were still a little drunk, though the transformation was quickly clearing their heads. But they still made out like beer-addled, lust-ridden college boys, their bodies a whirlwind of hands and fingers tracing over muscled chests and arms and asses. And as they kissed, the changes to their bodies only accelerated. Both boys’ necks and shoulders broadened and thickened further, and their arms layered on muscle with unimaginable speed. I could even see that their pecs had swollen to massive proportions, and their abs were cut and jacked into a pair of gorgeous eight-packs. The letters painted on their torsos had cracked and spread with the expanding muscle. These guys were fucking hot, and totally into each other. But they were just the beginning.

Their two buddies had also begun groping each other at the railing as they felt the effects of my wish as well. The blond hunk’s hand was on his friend’s shaved head, just kind of stroking it softly, while the other guy’s left hand was out of sight in front of the blond. I quickly realized as the blond stud’s back and ass flexed and his hand suddenly clenched the other guy’s shoulder that he was getting his cock rubbed through his jeans.

It was much clearer as the blond wearing S turned to his left and O pushed up behind him, grinding his crotch into his buddy’s ass under the jeans and reaching around to unbuckle his belt at the same time. His own dick rose up hard and tight against his mesh shorts, the thin fabric not doing much to constrict his growing erection.

And as I kept watching, it was clear that this shaved-headed jock stud’s prick was not just swelling with excitement at touching his hot buddy, but was actually growing longer and thicker with each grinding stroke against the taut muscle ass in front of him. S groaned in pleasure as he felt his studly friend—even studlier now that he’d built a hard, rippling six-pack, muscle-bound, bulging pecs, and chiseled, handsome features—pushing his expanded cock along the groove of his ass, feeling 7, then 9, then 10 bulging inches of thick jock dick pushing through the mesh shorts and jeans they wore to run up and down his handsome ass.

The blond was changing too—his hair, which had been cut short, grew out into a shaggy mop as his cheeks and jaw defined even further, making the already handsome guy truly gorgeous. As his buddy rubbed his hand over his stomach and chest, his pecs grew out and rounded with new muscle, each one sporting a larger, perkier nipple. His six-pack sharpened and defined itself into an amazing eight-pack of solid abs, a hot cobblestone stomach that he showed off to me and anyone else who cared to look as he pushed his ass back into his buddy’s expanded bulge.

His own bulge, of course, hadn’t stayed the same either. As the newly cut and stacked hunk with the shaved head started kissing his solid, muscular neck and continued stroking his cock through the tight jeans, the blond moaned and felt his own big fuckpole thicken and push hard into the denim. I watched as it rapidly grew from a decent 6 inches to a mind-blowing 11-inch beast, clearly very worked up already as his friend fished his hand into the blond’s pants and came up slick with pre-fuck. Both guys’ asses had now turned from cute to fucking hot, too—the blond’s squeezing into his jeans as it took in stroke after stroke from his buddy, whose own tight muscle butt had rounded further into two solid mounds of muscle pushing out into his mesh shorts, now rivaling the best football player’s or baseball player’s muscular bubble butt.

I couldn’t believe no one else was noticing this, especially as the two brown-haired studs who changed first sped things up, with G ripping off O’s cargoes and pulling down his boxers to begin sucking on his massive 9-inch monster cock. This jacked stud was totally straight and had never sucked a dick in his life, but he seemed to be doing a good job on his buddy as he took all 9 inches down his throat, his Abercrombie necklace flapping against his veined, muscular neck as he pumped up and down. Sweat was forming on his own lower back, dripping through the crevices of muscle down his v-shaped torso to sink into his beige cargo shorts.

I was obviously getting boned by this point, and looked over to Kerry and Derek. But they were still drunkenly watching the game and bantering about girls, oblivious to the steamy stud-on-stud sex going on just a few rows below us. But as it turned out, I wasn’t the only one who was watching.

“You see this shit?” said one of the Navy boys to his fellow cadet sitting next to him, watching as the four guys with painted, gorgeous, ripped torsos explored their new desires for each other.

“What the fuck are they doing?” replied his friend, seeming to see the guys for the first time. His face took on a look of disgust as he watched O and S now roughly fucking, with S’s jeans and O’s mesh shorts pushed down far enough to allow O’s 10-inch cock to penetrate deep into his buddy’s tight virgin ass. The cut shaggy-haired blond moaned in pleasure as his buddy-turned-fuckbuddy reamed him, reaching around to jack the dripping 11-inch cock he’d grown.

“What, you don’t like it?” said the first cadet. He was a cute 20-year-old brown-haired stud from Georgia with a thick accent to prove it. But his action belied his background as he unzipped his white uniform pants and suddenly pulled out his hard 7-inch dick, stroking it calmly.

“Fuck no, I don’t like it,” said his companion, already with less conviction as he kept watching the four muscular guys fuck. He had to admit, the guys had really nice bodies, and those dicks… “What the hell? I’m not gay,” he muttered. At that moment, the starkly handsome 21-year-old cadet, a football player for the academy, heard some noise to his right and turned in astonishment.

Their other two comrades had apparently found nothing disgusting in the display of male sex before them. In fact, they’d decided to replicate it. The biggest of the four Navy guys, a built 19-year-old blond from California, was passionately kissing the cadet who’d been wearing the flask earlier, a handsome Latino hunk from South Florida. Like most Navy cadets, they were both very socially conservative, but they didn’t seem too concerned with their values now as they tongue-fucked wildly.

They’d long lost their caps and were quickly losing the rest of their uniforms. This was sped along by their own transformation, mirroring that of the four guys below. The Cuban stud’s pecs bulged hard into his white shirt as his shoulders and neck thickened with muscle. It seemed the parts they touched grew fastest as the hot Californian’s arms doubled in size and his massive pecs followed suit, bulging out against the fabric of his uniform as his buddy caressed them.

It wasn’t long before their uniforms began to give way, first at the shoulders, then the chest. The Florida cadet’s shirt split first, tearing down the middle and revealing an amazingly ripped set of well-tanned pecs and a carved six-pack, framed by tight obliques leading to his belt. His partner followed soon after, groaning and flexing hard as his white uniform split down the back, falling off and leaving his v-shaped, muscle-bound torso totally exposed. This only seemed to encourage them more, and the two previously straight cadets took to each other with renewed lust.

Their pants were straining under the pressure too as the bulges in the white cotton grew. The Floridian heartbreaker’s big Latin cock swelled from a thin 6 inches to a fairly thick, very heavy 10-inch Cuban fuckweapon, tenting his pants almost uncontrollably as he made out with his buddy. His buddy, by the way, had gone even further, his ample 7.5-incher transformed into an obscene 11-inch cock soaking his pants with pre-cum as it pressed insistently out.

The brown-haired football jock turned away, his dick now inexplicably hard at its full 8 inches, but it wasn’t any better in the seat next to him. The boy next door from Georgia had changed into a cut muscle stud. He still had an innocent look to his face, but his body had totally changed. His uniform shirt was gone, and his tanned and jacked pecs, shoulders, guns and eight-pack were all in full view. His neck had thickened immensely and his jaw was squared like the Navy hunk he was. Most impressively, his 7-inch dick was history, replaced by a massive, rock-hard, 11-inch Navy stud cock, which he still jacked as he watched the fuck session below him. The cute, quiet cadet had turned into a god.

And the hunk beside him couldn’t tear his eyes away either, fixated on the huge Southern stud prick spilling pre-cum all over the boy’s hand. When he finally looked up and met the Georgian’s soft blue eyes, the rough Navy jock was done for. He pressed his lips to his buddy’s, kissing him hard, as he wrapped his hand around the huge cock that had been staring him in the face and started pumping.

His fellow cadet moaned into the kiss as the handsome football player immediately began to change. As the kid from Georgia clenched his back and arms with his own bulked-up arms and masculine hands, the jock cadet felt his back muscles broadening and thickening, then his biceps and triceps packing on layers of muscle and defining themselves into a beautiful pair of arms. It wasn’t long at all, as he kept kissing his cut classmate and stroking his huge dick, before the guy who’d been impervious to the changes before fell totally under their control. He grunted loudly as his shirt, like all his buddies’, ripped at the seams under the pressure of his swelling delts and lats, blossoming pecs, and bulging biceps. Soon his upper body, as tanned and jacked as the other three Navy boys’, was fully revealed.

But I soon realized that this last dude was going to be something special. His pecs and abs were even more cut than the other three, not an ounce of fat anywhere on his torso. His arms and neck had grown to almost twice their old size, and his delts and traps made his shoulders jaw-droppingly hot. He’d been really good-looking before, but now this Navy stud could make a guy cum in his pants just by smiling at him.

Speaking of which, his own cock was dripping wet as he stood up with his hot Southern buddy. His muscle ass pushed out beautifully into his white pants—damn, I swear the thing had made his belt almost horizontal. But the best was his prick—as the Georgia boy unbuckled his pants and pulled them down, the massive Navy jock dick sprung out. It was totally hard and leaking freely, and was the biggest cock I’d seen yet. Thing had to be a fucking foot long, and disgustingly thick too. But somehow the kid from Georgia was deep-throating it in no time, and his back muscles flexed tantalizingly as he groped the transformed football player’s perfect bubble butt and worked over his monster tool.

The sight of these two absolutely stacked and totally cut Navy boys busted out of their uniforms and fucking each other was enough to make me feel like shooting right then, but I’d have a lot more inspiration over the next couple minutes.

Oblivious to the transformations and gay sex going on all around them, the frat boys from UVA had continued drunkenly propositioning passing women. Some even returned their affection—after all, these boys weren’t bad-looking.

But at some point the bigger guy in the form-fitting Virginia t-shirt, beige cargo shorts and loose gray New Balances started fingering his necklace and looking confused and disoriented. He turned to look at his buddies, the hot twins in jeans, but they were checking out a passing girl, a pretty blonde with a decent rack. He turned to see what they were looking at, and suddenly grinned.

“Damn!” he yelled. “Hottest blond I seen all night!” The twins clapped in approval as the girl looked up with a grin, half-surprised, half-flattered. She gave a wave, but the UVA stud scrunched his eyes in confusion.

“Not you, bitch. I’m talkin’ about that blond.” It took the girl and his friends a second to realize that he was talking about her boyfriend, a blond hunk bulging into his red polo and tight Levis. If he’d been unhappy about the comments when he thought they were aimed at his girlfriend, he was furious now. Leaving the girl behind, he stormed up to the guy who’d catcalled him.

“I oughta pound your fuckin’ face in,” he growled. His hot, enraged face was just inches from the other guy’s. They were close enough to kiss—and that’s just what the cut Virginia frat boy did.

I really had no idea what was going to happen as I watched. The blond hunk’s bulging, muscular arms flailed a little as the prep stud in beige cargoes kissed him, his own bizarre actions obscuring the fact that until a few seconds earlier, he too had been a cocky straight frat boy who’d have beat the shit out of a fag who hit on him. I hadn’t wished anything on the blond guy, but sure enough those flailing arms soon relaxed and the straight hunk began to kiss back, his biceps flexing into the red polo as he caressed the other guy’s muscular back through the tight blue t-shirt.

“Fuck,” whispered the unsuspecting stud who’d been passing with his hot girlfriend, as he felt his cock start to swell. That wasn’t the only thing that was growing. The handsome UVA guy groaned into the blond’s lips as he began to change—his arms thickened and defined themselves deeper into taut biceps, curving triceps, and massive forearms. His pecs bulged harder into his t-shirt, spreading the print “Virginia” wide across his ever more muscular chest. His back, under the soft stroking of the other stud’s strong hands, became even more muscular and pronounced under the fabric of the shirt, and his ass pressed out into the cargoes, pushing out the back pockets into prominence as he developed a true bubble butt.

The other guy was changing too, his torso swelling with rock-hard muscle that pushed beautifully into his polo, but it was nothing compared to the frat boy, whose neck was now tightening against his Abercrombie necklace. His features, handsome before, were now godlike, with stark green eyes, a tight mouth, and squared chin and jaw. His legs carved themselves into slabs of muscle, calves tightening and swelling above the low-cut socks and New Balances.

The blond stud, now standing a few inches taller and 20 pounds of muscle heavier, stepped back suddenly, pulling his hands off the Virginia hunk’s muscle ass, as he felt something else change. He looked down to see that his new buddy’s cock pushed insistently against the fabric of his cargo shorts, its bulge swollen to at least 10 inches. He got excited as well at seeing this, and felt his own massive prick surge into his jeans, growing and thickening along the way. Before long, the two former straight-boy muscle studs caught each other’s eyes and went for it, their hands and fingers fighting with thick leather belts, tight buttons and zippers, and heavily pressured boxers before finally releasing each other’s overgrown dicks.

The blond’s cock rose hard out of his jeans at 10 thick inches, already leaking pre-cum as he continued feeling up the frat boy’s expanded pecs. The Virginia guy’s monster prick, meanwhile, had reached 12 inches of hot, dripping frat stud meat, and he moaned as the other guy sank down and began swallowing its enormous mass right in front of his girlfriend.

The two hot twins should have been disgusted by this sudden display of passionate lovemaking between their recently straight-arrow buddy and an equally straight stud with a hot chick on his arm. Instead they couldn’t look away as the blond guy, his shoulders now splitting the seams of his red polo, really began coaxing the load out of the massively muscled frat boy’s footlong dickmeat. The twin in the blue and white polo was the first to react, reaching up to grip his Cavs cap.

“Fuck, dude…” he whispered, staring at his buddy’s fantastically sculpted back, each line of definition clear beneath the shirt as he flexed and pumped, pushing his cock deeper into the blond stud’s engorged throat. “I don’t want to say it, but…this is kinda fuckin’ hot.” He looked down to see his own dick, a decent 7-inch tool, pressing hard into his jeans.

His brother in the gray Sigma Nu t-shirt was right there with him, feeling his own handsome prick, identical to his brother’s, swell into his worn Gap jeans. He looked over to catch his bro’s oversized bulge and smiled. “Yeah, it is, buddy,” he said. Ignoring the fact that they’d both been ogling chicks a minute ago, he turned and placed a hand on his brother’s chest, feeling the impressive but not huge pec underneath the fabric of the polo. The other twin smiled back, relaxing into his brother’s touch, as he let a hand wrap around the hot Sigma Nu’s well-defined obliques under the tight gray t-shirt.

Slowly but inevitably, their lips came together and the two brothers kissed passionately, lusting for each other in a kind of brotherly love the two straight Southern frat boys had never anticipated. And like all the others, touch bred change, and they began to grow.

These boys were incredibly good-looking to begin with, and to see them making out was the stuff of every gay porn viewer’s fantasies, so to upgrade them was a difficult matter. Luckily my imagination didn’t let me down. It started with the first twin, his decent pecs swelling and rounding with layers of muscle as they bulged into his polo, the stripes spreading wider as he grew. The other stud began to change at the same time, his ass rounding into a ripe muscle butt under the Gap jeans and his back and shoulders broadening, a crevice of muscle definition parting the gray fabric of his frat t-shirt at each shoulder blade and down along his newly cut lats.

As the twins continued kissing, their bodies continued enhancing themselves. The blue and white polo protested under the strain of expanded biceps and delts, the new muscle squeezing against the seams. The Sigma Nu stud backed away from the kiss long enough to glance over his brother’s suddenly jacked torso. “Damn, bro, you’re gettin’ fuckin’ ripped.” He saved his brother the trouble of ripping through his shirt by pulling the polo off, the shirt sliding along the tightly packed muscle of his chest and shoulders along the way. Once off, the 20-year-old’s bulging pecs, swollen guns, and absolutely cut eight-pack were all in plain view.

“Not doin’ too bad yourself,” replied the now-shirtless frat stud, watching as his brother’s biceps tested the sleeves of the gray t-shirt, the defined crevices of his arms and shoulders now appearing more clearly through the fabric. His own pecs had grown immensely as well, and as he came forward to kiss his twin brother again he felt his own muscled chest press sensually against his brother’s bare pecs.

“Fuck, you’re hot, dude,” groaned the shirtless stud, and without another word he spun his brother around and began sliding his hard cock up and down his tight bubble butt. Soon both guys’ jeans and boxers were coming down and the two frat boy twins were humping and moaning softly. The shirtless hunk pulled back and gave his cock a few quick strokes, and it grew with astonishing speed, swelling from 7 to 11.5 thick inches in a matter of seconds. A moment later, it was buried deep in his brother’s tight Sigma Nu ass, stretching the virgin hole to the frat boy’s deep pleasure.

In fact, with each deep stroke pushing the nearly footlong piece of dick into his bro’s hole, the hunk now bulging into his gray t-shirt felt his own cock grow and thicken, from 7 to 9 to 11.5 throbbing inches of hot college boy meat just like his brother’s, dripping pre-cum from the strokes he was receiving to his prostate. The straight Sigma Nu stud moaned as the newly-hung hunk behind him jerked his equally well-endowed brother and continued reaming his ass.

“Damn,” I whispered as I caught sight of their faces, sweating and straining with sexual effort. Both boys’ brown hair had become a hot shaggy mop hanging over their foreheads and ears. Their eyes, a handsome blue, could now entice the straightest guy on the planet, and their cheeks and jaws were chiseled like Greek gods. I mean, I had a thing for frat boys before, but these dudes were gorgeous.

Even they seemed to realize how hot they’d become as they couldn’t keep their hands from roaming all over each other’s bodies. The stud who’d been wearing the polo wrapped one hand around his brother’s achingly hard cock and stroked it hard, eliciting deep moans from his handsome twin, while the other hand pushed up the strained gray Sigma Nu shirt and ran a finger through the cut grooves of his ripped eight-pack and beautifully curving obliques.

“Fuck,” the hunk on bottom moaned, “yeah, bro, fuck me, drive that hot cock in my ass.” He grinned as his brother started to pick up the pace. His thighs and calves flexed hard under his jeans and both boys’ muscled torsos strained from the exertion. “Fuck me like a slutty Tri Delt…”

That really set his brother off and the frat boy muscle god groaned in pleasure as he felt his hot twin’s cock bottom out in new and deeper parts of his untouched asshole. Within seconds his own 11.5-inch fuckpole was spewing shot after shot of hot college boy juice all over the concrete floor, not to mention his own jeans and shirt. As his ass tightened hard around his brother’s hard-pumping cock, it wasn’t long before the other twin shot too, moaning as he softened the pain of penetrating his brother’s ass with several long shots of warm, creamy cum deep into the cocky Sigma Nu’s hole.

They barely had time to recover before the guy on bottom felt a new pair of hands on him, one sliding up under his gray t-shirt to grip his massive pecs, the other taking over for his brother around his now totally wet 11.5-inch frat cock. Before he realized what was happening, a pair of lips was meeting his, too.

The gorgeous Sigma Nu opened his hot blue eyes and stared at the guy who’d kissed him. He grinned as he saw that their buddy, his muscled pecs, shoulders and arms still bulging sexily into his blue and orange Virginia shirt, was now taking it from the guy in the red polo, only the guy had lost the red polo and his own swollen pecs, bulging delts and traps, big veined biceps, and unimaginably ripped abs were all totally exposed beneath his well-tanned skin.

“You’re looking pretty fuckin’ good, boys,” said the other brown-haired guy. He kissed the bottom twin again, both of them feeling the electricity of the first kiss between two guys who’d been straight buddies before, along with the pleasure of getting stretched out by a huge muscle stud’s cock.

“This is fucking intense, dude,” said the Sigma Nu, watching the blond above his friend slam his 10-inch cock in and out of his buddy’s virgin ass, as he slid his own hands up under the navy blue t-shirt to stroke his buddy’s handsome pecs, lingering on the large, excited nipples. The top studs were getting into each other, too, the blond hunk’s jaw dropping as the other twin leaned back and struck a pose for him even as he continued rubbing his cock against his brother’s ass, his tanned pecs gleaming and his delts, biceps and abs bulging and flexing magnificently for the appreciative blond. This amazing foursome, who wouldn’t have looked out of place cruising for girls to fuck at any of the top-flight frats at any school in the country, were instead bent over fucking each other. I was now hornier than I could ever remember being in my life.

And that’s when I heard someone to my right say, “Fuck yes.” It wasn’t either of my buddies—they were still blithely drinking. Instead it came from the Italian studs to our right, and as I looked over I saw they’d gotten into the spirit of things too.

The hunk in the camo cargoes was clearly the star of the show at this point. His two buddies had both lost their shirts, so I could see their bigger, better-muscled and even more cut pecs, shoulders, lats and abs tighten and flex as they went to work on him. The taller one was behind him, his overgrown 10-inch fuckpole pistoning in and out of his friend’s ass. And damn, was I jealous of him, because that ass, which had been great before, was now fucking magnificent, its twin bulges of tanned muscle rising up to meet the massive cock that was the first to penetrate its tight walls. The handsome stud fucking him had also taken the liberty of pulling off his black shirt (which had ripped in several places anyway) and groping the middle guy’s enormous pecs, taut nipples, incredibly thickened biceps, and stunning ten-pack of jacked abs.

Below them, the other hunky Italian was on his knees, stroking his own thick 9-inch meat as he sucked hard on his buddy’s cock. Both the camo cargo shorts and his boxers had come off right away and were crumpled around his gray New Balances, the thick brown leather belt’s buckle clinking against the concrete as he was fucked and sucked by his two formerly straight best buddies.

He seemed to be enjoying himself, and I saw as the hunk on bottom pulled off briefly that he must have been too. The thick Italian cock he was sucking was more than a foot long, probably pushing 13 inches, and was leaking pre-cum freely onto his buddy’s lips and tongue, giving him his first taste of a guy whose cut physique and handsome features he’d never appreciated as more than a workout partner till today. I don’t know how big the prick was that he’d been hiding under those cargoes before, but it had grown bigger than any cock I’d seen—and given the events of that night, that was saying something.

Dragging my eyes away, I saw that the Navy hunks had switched partners, with the Georgia boy now roughly fucking the Cuban stud and the built blond Californian sucking furiously on the football god’s massive footlong cock. Below them the shirtless chest-painted hunks had actually moved past each other and had begun attracting other boys I hadn’t even seen—this was way beyond the wildest dreams of the effect of my wish. The two brown-haired hunks in cargoes had enticed a pair of passing U-Md. studs up to their seats. Both boys had since grown and were now happily pleasuring the two college boys, sucking their first dick with unexpected intensity. As I watched, the Terp hunks’ backs and shoulders swelled into their shirts as they filled their straight-boy throats with a huge piece of cock for the first time.

Their buddies, meanwhile, had pulled a young-looking, well-built dad away from his wife and 18-year-old son and convinced him to get down and start deep throating the huge, leaking 10-incher sported by the hunk with the painted O on his broad, muscular chest. The 38-year-old dad was still in great shape, and only became more so as he grew and packed on tight muscle. Soon his son, watching with mouth agape as his dad sucked the muscle hunk’s cock, couldn’t resist the temptation to try it out himself, and he slipped under S’s knees and shucked his tight jeans, swallowing the 11-inch monster in three quick gulps. His mother watched in horror as her husband and son took to their respective fuckpoles enthusiastically, both of them growing more muscular and more handsome with each stroke.

I was about to join one of these groups when I felt a hand on my knee. I looked over to see Derek looking at me, grinning. My eyes followed his body down (a journey they’d taken many times before as I discreetly checked him out) until they hit a tuft of brown hair. My jaw dropped as I realized that Kerry was now bent over in his seat, Derek’s hard dick buried in his throat.

“What the fuck…” I whispered, my already aching cock threatening to explode.

“Fuck yeah, Kerry, suck that big cock, straight boy, damn, you’re hot.” Derek kept up the dirty talk as he felt his buddy eat his dick to the hilt. That was becoming harder and harder to do, though, as Derek’s already huge cock—8 inches at the outset—swelled and thickened into an enormous 12-inch fucking machine. Kerry pulled off a moment later, almost choking on the huge tool.

“Damn,” he grunted, looking up. I couldn’t believe this was my friend, willingly choking down another dude’s meat. His gorgeous face was red with the effort as he grinned and kissed Derek deeply. “You’re pretty fucking good-looking yourself, man,” he said, now stroking Derek’s upper body and watching as my shaved-headed friend grew like all the others. His chest and arms bulged with muscle first, forming into a set of cut pecs and a ripped eight-pack. I could see as much as Kerry tore the shirt off Derek’s torso, revealing the newly jacked muscle. I wondered where Kerry had gotten the strength to do that until I saw he was now bulging dangerously into his blue t-shirt too, the sleeves and shoulder seams straining under his swollen pecs and biceps.

He groaned as Derek spun him around, kissing his thickening neck and hardening cheeks. Derek’s hands split, one shoving up under Kerry’s shirt to stroke his now-shredded upper body, the other fishing into his tight jeans, past the thick black belt and boxers, to grope his expanding cock. His hands had soon unbuckled and unbuttoned Kerry’s belt and pants and shoved both the jeans and boxers down far enough to expose Kerry’s ass—now a gorgeous bubble butt that pushed out in two hot bulges, just begging for Derek’s dripping footlong dick. And Derek didn’t deny him, sliding his cock deep into Kerry’s virgin hole as they continued growing, the definition of their muscle deepening beautifully.

After just a few strokes from Derek’s ass-wrecker, Kerry’s clothes seemed to fall apart. His shirt ripped off, revealing his tanned and jacked torso fully—the meaty pecs, topped by ripe nipples, the cut ten-pack and powerful obliques, the massive guns formed by tightly defined biceps and triceps, all of it flexing and twisting as he felt Derek fucking him. At the same time, his dick freed itself from his jeans and shot up into the air. Kerry had grown a thick 13.5-inch cock that managed to put all the other guys to shame, and he jerked it hard as Derek reamed him, creamy pre-fuck spilling freely from the piss slit.

I decided not to wait any longer. I rose and kissed Kerry deeply on the lips. He returned the affection as he never would have before, sliding his tongue into my mouth and caressing my back. As I pulled back, I noticed that both he and Derek had somehow become even more handsome than before, Derek’s rugged bad-boy look enhanced by his cut cheeks and jawline and hot brown stubble on his chin and jaw, and Kerry’s soft eyes grown even hotter, their alluring glow now framed by his own gorgeous cheekbones and squared chin. His curly brown hair had grown out perfectly, hanging sexily over his forehead. After another brief kiss to my straight buddy’s lips, I sank to my knees and stared at his leaking 13.5-inch dickmeat. Without another thought I slipped it into my mouth and started sucking like my life depended on it, bobbing in time with Derek’s strokes deep into Kerry’s perfect ass. As my hands caressed Kerry’s ten-pack and I heard him moaning, I couldn’t help looking out of the corner of my eye at the rest of the stadium.

Not only had every hot guy within eyesight found a partner to fuck and grabbed him, but they had all started to grow just like the guys I’d already changed. Nobody really seemed to think this was all that odd anymore—even the women just watched with wide-eyed lust as their boyfriends, husbands, sons and friends started hooking up with the closest guy they could find. The players on the field weren’t immune either. The Greek god of a right fielder, his jersey gone and his uniform pants tenting beautifully with his own thick 12-inch monster dick, had walked over to the stands and picked out a handsome blond kid in a black Orioles shirt, his own pecs, arms, and cock swollen and pressing into his shirt and jeans. The right fielder pulled the transformed hottie out of the stands and waited while the guy pulled off the white uniform pants—he’d worn them kind of loose before, but with the changes they now hugged his ripe, bulging ass and massive quads tightly, the bulge of his cock barely contained. Across the field, the center fielder, a lithe black guy who’d packed on plenty of muscle but kept his agile build, had done likewise, pulling a gorgeous 30-year-old trader from Baltimore, ripped out of his shirt and tie and his dripping 10-inch cock pushing eagerly against his black work pants, out of the stands and onto the field where he could pull down the pants and start fucking him roughly, reaching around to jack his oversized tool at the same time.

It was right after I saw this that I felt Kerry tense and begin shooting his massive load into my throat, which I found myself somehow able to drink down even though it went on for a good thirty seconds. Derek was moaning behind him and I realized he must have been firing his own thick college boy seed into his buddy’s ass. As I rose again and kissed Kerry, sharing his load with him and making out with a hyper-muscled, mega-dicked version of the guy I’d lusted after for a few years, and then felt Derek coming around behind me, I knew this already interesting night was only going to get better.

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