Hulkster and Hoppy

by Also Known As

Jeremy “Hoppy” Hopkins and Alexander “The Hulkster” Hogan were best friends in high school, but at the twenty-year reunion, the Hulkster discovers what Hoppy has been up to all those years in-between.

Added: 27 Feb 2021 Updated: 10 Apr 2021 61,421 words 9,723 views 4.9 stars (34 votes)

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Parts: 
I
I had not intended to show up for my twenty-year high school reunion. High school itself had not been a positive experience for me for a variety of reasons, and it was certainly not something I wanted to relive. We all move on and lose track of even our best friends from those years, and in my case I had tried my best to forget about the trials and tribulations of my late teen years.

But there was one exception to my… let’s call it deep hesitation bordering on dread about seeing some of those faces again and reliving the little nightmares visited upon me as a young gay man who couldn’t hide inside my closet very well. Funny how our browser histories can come back to haunt us just because we left our phones somewhere and someone thought it would be hilarious to broadcast my visits to sites dedicated to the glorification of the muscular male form.

At first I tried covering up by explaining that I was just doing research into improving my body for athletics. I was, after all, the captain of the football team and one of the shining stars of the athletics department. But even the team captain isn’t beyond the scope of some good, old fashioned high school homophobia and it was pretty obvious by the…nature of the sites and images that my interest wasn’t strictly concerned with making my gym time pay off.

But back to that exception I mentioned. His name was—is—Jeremy Hopkins. We were best friends, based mostly on a long shared school history going all the way back to sixth grade. Like most boys, we started off friends because of some shared interests like video games and watching Animaniacs and the Olympics in Lillehammer and how fucking crazy it was to watch O.J. Simpson’s slow motion escape in that famous Ford Bronco.

As we grew up together, our paths started to diverge, but we stayed friends through it all. I was the sporty one, going out for every team and spending my afternoons on the playing fields, throwing and catching a variety of balls. Jeremy, or Hoppy as I called him (and he started calling me Hulk because, like a certain professional wrestler we both admired, my last name is Hogan and my first name, Alexander, was a mouthful) was the classic nerd. Hoppy was so smart that while I was lining my shelf with sports trophies and accolades, his was filled with medals from science contests and math competitions.

The other thing that set us apart, and glued us together, was that we were both shy with the girls. I, of course, had my own reasons for that, but then again I was the sports hero who was expected to be laying pipe with every cheerleader on the squad. He had his own reasons, I suppose, but maybe it was that while my body began to grow like a weed in high school, mostly because I was determined to look like all those beautiful, muscular naked men that I was jerking off to every night in secret silence, Hoppy stayed small. Like, really small.

It was as if he couldn’t grow muscle if his life depended on it. Instead, his small bookish frame grew soft and flabby, almost like the opposite mirror to my own development. By the time we graduated, I was six-one and weighed in, even as an 18-year-old, at over 200 pounds.

Like I said, I loved the gym and it loved me back.

But I also loved Hoppy. He was my best friend, particularly after “the phone incident” as we started referring to it. Everyone else pretty much abandoned me, but Hoppy was always there, making jokes about the idiots who taunted me and impressing me with his big brain.

I hadn’t heard from him in those twenty years since and hadn’t much thought about him for the last ten. My college experience was leagues better than what happened to me in high school—I guess big cities and their metropolitan outlooks and modern-thinking populations do have a lot more to offer than small town gay bashers—and I wanted to forget high school, which meant forgetting Hoppy too.

So it was both shocking and surprising when I got an email out of the blue from an address I didn’t recognize. If I hadn’t checked my junk message folder after missing an Amazon receipt for something I didn’t even remember ordering I never would have read it in the first place:

Hey Hulkster,
 
You probably don’t remember me, but this is Jeremy Hopkins, or Dr. Hopkins as I’m now formally known. We attended Lakeside High way back in the dark ages in that podunk town I’m sure we’re both happy to have said our goodbyes to. Which brings me to the reason for this email. I don’t know if you saw it, but our alma mater is celebrating the 20th anniversary of getting rid of Hoppy and the Hulk and believe it or not, I’m writing this in hopes of convincing you to attend. Weird, I know, but I have my reasons. Google my name and you might figure some of those reasons out. Anyway, I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Me Googling you to get this email address on LinkedIn shows me you’ve got your own busy life.

I could hear his voice clearly in those few sentences, and all of the sudden a wealth of memories and their accompanying emotions started flooding back.

The first thing I did was Google him, curious both about what his reasons were for going back to that town and school that neither one of us had the happiest memories about, and also just to catch up and see what Hoppy had been up to.

My own life was admittedly rather mundane, which was how I liked it. Having experienced a great deal of fame and infamy in high school due to my sports prowess and “the phone incident,” wasn’t anxious to continue that streak. I’d had some success with sports in college, which after all had been mostly paid for with a football scholarship, but I was now a software developer and one of those start-ups in the Bay Area where being a gay man was almost a boon to my success rather than an embarrassment.

I’m proud to say that I never stopped going to the gym, though. My love and admitted worship of muscle never abandoned me, and although I was no longer a hormone-filled gay teen channeling my sexual frustration into throwing iron around, I still treated the gym as my personal church.

Plus, let’s face it, there was no better cruising ground in the city.

Plugging ‘Jeremy Hopkins’ into Google provided a ton of different Jeremys to investigate, but adding in his doctorate—which, you know, fuck yeah Hoppy, way to go!—zeroed in on his info pretty precisely. And what I read, and particularly what I saw, made my attendance at the reunion inevitable.

That little fat kid I grew up with had not just one or two doctorates, he had Ph.D.’s in biology, chemistry, and genetics, which I didn’t even know was a thing. He, like me, had joined the gold rush into tech and started a couple of companies dedicated to health and the human genome, like that other more famous DNA company but without the huge marketing push, I guess, since I had never heard of either company. But he was so successful that the fucker retired a multi-millionaire at the age of thirty and was using his stacks of bills supporting human aid causes and all sort of Bill Gates-ish shit.

Because of course he would! The one thing Hoppy never lacked was heart. The dude was picked on mercilessly for his stature and weight and a rather long year when his face was covered in pimples, but he somehow always kept a positive attitude and that helped me through my own troubles, which as I considered them then reading his professional history made me feel rather silly.

Then I saw his picture.

If I was shocked and surprised before that moment, out was nothing compared to what I felt, emotionally, physically, and even sexually when I looked at that picture.

Oddly, there was only one image of Dr. Jeremy Hopkins on the whole of the internet. It was just a headshot, from his shoulders up, wearing a navy suit and matching tie, making me think this was something official and professional. He wasn’t really smiling in the image, but he wasn’t not smiling either. And I recognized Hoppy immediately, the same blue eyes sparkling with humor, the same stoic look to his brow, the same full lips and squat nose.

But he was—he was not just handsome, he was…. he was….

I wasn’t sure when the picture was taken, but he looked to be in his early 20s. His features were unlined with wrinkles and his hair was showing no signs of thinning, unlike my own. I always considered myself a rather good looking guy and I certainly never had any problems hooking up, but I think I gasped out loud and even felt a tightening in the crotch of my jeans looking at that small headshot on my laptop screen.

It was as if he had bloomed, or emerged from some cocoon and been changed to a butterfly from a caterpillar. His jaw was firm and square, the structure of his face was angular and powerful. He looked…like a man. Like the manliest man I had ever seen. He looked….

He looked like a man I wanted to fuck. Hard. And for a really long time, just so I could ride his ass and look into those eyes and kiss those lips. I had an instant and incredibly strong attraction to Dr. Jeremy Hopkins, Ph.D., and I determined immediately that whatever it meant and whatever it took, I was going to my class reunion.


I wrote him back to express my surprise and shock, as well as my intention to follow his advice and attend. I wasn’t sure if I should compliment his looks or not. He probably heard it all the time, in the way that beautiful people’s looks are often the focal point of any conversation with them. But he was like if Brad Pitt had sex with Henry Cavill and somehow from this union, Hoppy popped out. I mean, I’m a bit ashamed to admit it but I copied that headshot into my phone and used it to stroke out more than a few thick shots of cum in the company men’s rooms.

I mentioned something like “it looks like you’re spending as much time in the gym as you do in the labs” or something stupid like that. I was only imagining a body I couldn’t really see based on the set of that masculine jawline and the thickness of his neck and the width of his shoulders. My imagination has always been rather colorful, and in my head Hoppy was like some Photoshopped ideal of the perfect male specimen, all thick muscle and massive glutes and fat cum-filled balls poised beneath a cock so thick and long that I would gag trying to force it down my throat.

His responses were polite and humorous—Hoppy was still Hoppy—and he sounded genuinely pleased and excited that I would agree to go back to our hometown to see him again. We caught up a little in a few emails (and God how I wanted to ask him to send me more photos but I didn’t want to seem as desperate and I felt, not to mention it was more than a little stalkery) as we both explained that neither of us had ever “settled down”—me because I was a horndog with an unbridled taste for new ass, a muscular body and a face that looked good on gay fuck apps, and a dick that never deflated, him because he was “just too busy with work” and he was still mostly shy, he said, though with his stupidly beautiful face haunting my dreams I had a hard time thinking no one had gotten past those walls.

We shared what we’d been up to, how our lives had diverged and meandered in the intervening years. Mine sounded quite dull compared to his. He was modest about his accomplishments and I had the good taste not to bring up the fact that he was a fucking multi-millionaire with homes on every continent and a private jet waiting to take him wherever he wanted to go, at least according to an old Forbes article detailing some of his accomplishments when he announced he was starting a fund to end starvation and poverty because he was fucking Hoppy and he couldn’t not do nice things for other people.

He’d used his three doctorates wisely, and he mentioned that the last thing he was working on was the latest meditech fad about prolonging life and overcoming the human genome’s faults. “I made a lot of progress that I was pretty satisfied with,” he wrote, in his typically understated manner.

He mentioned that he wanted to show me something, he wanted my opinion about a new project he was undertaking and that I, for some reason, was the one person in the world he most wanted to share it with. I like mysteries and I liked Hoppy so I said I would happy and proud to offer whatever I could, though I doubted that I was in any position, as a lowly software engineer (with, I did not add, a killer bod and talented dick that wanted very badly to kiss his lips and stroke his face and explore him like astronauts explored the moon) to be a better judge than his newer friends. He assured me that I was uniquely qualified, whatever that meant, so rather than keep denigrating myself I just accepted his mysterious invitation.

Suddenly I couldn’t wait to go back to the small town I swore I would never set foot in again, and only because I had to see this man, my best friend for a dozen years or more, in the flesh.

I had no intention of trying to seduce him. Far as I knew, Hoppy was straight and even if I had fantasies of drilling his hole with my drooling dick, I just wanted to see him again. In addition to feeling horned up like a bull, I missed my good friend. The only friend, really, who stuck with me through everything.

I think I had an erection the entire flight from one airport to the other, and also in the Uber to my hotel, and also inside my room when I opened the envelope that the front desk had waiting for my arrival.

It was a printed message from Hoppy.

Hey Hulkster,
 
Can’t wait to see you again. I really want to share this project with you. I hope you’ll find it interesting and beneficial. I was wondering if we could meet and I can get my hands on you in my room before the others? Call me dramatic but I want to have a reunion with my old best friend before I have to share you with your adoring fans, who will no doubt do their utmost to ignore the fact that they treated you so badly. You’re still the handsome football captain and the best friend I ever had. I’m in room 718, top floor. Just knock.
 
Hoppy

My dick throbbed and my balls tingled. I was even more than a little nervous about seeing him again. Our friendship had blossomed anew from the few emails we had been sharing, but I also had the man’s picture on my phone as my main jerk-off material. In a way, I was scared to go up there to meet him in person.

I pressed the elevator button but it took so long to respond that I used the stairs instead, vaulting up four floors two at a time. I stopped outside the door to Hoppy’s room, tried to compose myself, and rapped my knuckles against the door.

“Come in, Hulkster,” I heard a voice respond. It was a deep-sounding voice, a rumbling baritone. Hoppy’s voice as I remembered it from high school had been rather high and thin. I remember he could even sing like Dolly Parton when he wanted to.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open, saying “Hoppy? Long time no see!”

The room was empty, but that same voice spoke from the bedroom of what I assumed passed for a lavish hotel room in this small town. “Indeed,” it answered, and I assumed it was his voice I was hearing. I knew from his picture that he had changed somewhat in the twenty years since we had last seen each other, and wondered if my voice sounded as odd to his ears. “Can you stay there for a minute? I… I need to explain something first.”

I sat on the couch in the room and said, “Sure, I guess. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answered, “Everything is okay. But… I’m… I’m not sure how to start.”

“Hoppy, you know everything about me. You know how I feel about you, I hope. I mean, we haven’t spoken in years and probably that’s….”

“No, sorry, that isn’t what I meant. I trust you, of course. Like I wrote, there’s no one I trust as much as you.” That voice was starting to have a strange effect on me. It was deep and masculine, it was if a current of subtle power ran through its tone, a current of male power that entered my ear canal and licked my neck and rubbed my nipples and stroked my cock. It was like listening to a moan of pure sexual satisfaction.

“Thanks,” I answered. I adjusted my dick in my slacks. Did the room feel hotter?

“I… I told you about the genome project I was starting. Had started. I won’t bore you with the details, and I apologize for tricking you into coming.”

“You didn’t trick me.”

“So you were planning on showing up to our twentieth high school reunion on your own?” He laughed gently, and it sounded like boulders shifting.

“Are you all right? You’re starting to worry me. Just come out and….”

I never got to finish the sentence, because at that moment Dr. Jeremy Hopkins strode into the room where I was trying to maintain my calm without the sound how his voice making my cock rip its way out of my pants. And in that moment, in that second of time, the world as I knew it tilted on its side, opened its mouth, and started sucking my dick.

“Yes,” Hoppy said. “I’m all right. I’m actually… a lot more than all right.”

“Holy. Fuck.”

The man before me smiled and bit his full, sensuous bottom lip. There was the face that I had by now managed to pump out gallons of cum in worship to, and it was mounted on a body that made Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime look like a wimp.

Hoppy was wearing a dress shirt and slacks, like I was, but it was doing very little to disguise that he had become something close to the epitome of male perfection.

The shirt was almost absurdly tight against his upper body, which was bulging with thick, round masses of firm muscle. He had pecs, and I mean pecs. Two huge round globes pushing out from his chest, their peanut-sized nipples pushing quite noticeably against the material. His shoulders were a mile wide and his traps nearly kissed his earlobes. The sleeves were clinging so tightly to his massive arms that I could see the outline of thick veins traversing all that powerful brawn.

Scanning lower, he had narrow hips that accentuated the impossibly wide taper from his shoulders to his waist. A bulge of impressive size and astounding thickness pushed forward between his legs, and the slacks he had somehow managed to work over his massive quads were practically tearing themselves apart at the seams with every movement of his thick and powerful frame.

How many hours a day did he spend in a gym to get that body? How thick were those arms? How many abdominal bulges created that flat, rippled stomach? How huge were the pectoral masses doing their utmost to strain the buttons on his dress shirt attempting to hold them in? Even his nipples were impressive, shoving themselves like tiny dicks against the tight cotton.

“Hi, Hulkster.”

I came.

He watched as my body spasmed with pure and unavoidable sexual bliss and a dark stain swelled between my legs. “I thought that might happen,” he said, his sensuous mouth twisting into a small grimace.

I came again. Harder.

“Should I leave?”

“Fuck. Holy fuck. Oh fuck.”

“I’ll just….” He backed away slowly and the sensation of thick, overwhelming sexual power receded with him. “Um, sorry about that,” he said in his deep, powerful voice, and I pumped another warm, wet stream of cum into my shorts.

I was panting and sweating and my underwear was filled with sticky cream. I felt my balls tighten and my cock swell and knew another fat fountain was coming. “Jesus,” I said softly.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“What the… what the hell was… What just…?”

“Yeah, so, about that project I mentioned?” I wanted to come again at the sound of his voice. Just the sound of it. “The project is me.”
I was clutching at the cushions on the couch trying to regain my equilibrium. My head was spinning and my cock pulsed and my ass twitched. I felt like I had just pushed my should out of the end of my dick. I was embarrassed as hell and more than a little scared and wondered why I had lost control so suddenly and so entirely. “What do…you mean?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Holy fuck, does this happen a lot, Hoppy?”

“I’ve really missed you, Hulkster. Or should I just call you Henry now?”

“I like…” I gulped and sucked some air into my lungs. “I like when you call me Hulkster. I’ve missed that, though I guess I never realized it.”

“Me too,” he said softly. “I should have warned you.”

“Warned me about what?”

“It’s a long story.”

My cock was still throbbing and I thought about his picture on my phone. And how it couldn’t possibly match the absolute gorgeous sexy perfection of Hoppy in the flesh. “I think I can make the time.”

“Do you want to get cleaned up first?”

I looked down. “Probably?”

There was some movement in the other room and then I heard his muffled voice say, “Okay, it’s safe now. I’m in the closet.”

“I don’t… Don’t hide in the closet, Hoppy.”

“It’s just safer this way, believe me.”

I got up from the couch to look for the bathroom. I half-shouted so he could hear me. “So, I guess you should start with what just happened and why it just happened and can I just tell you that you’re possibly the most beautiful person on the face of the planet?” I felt a strange kind of heat as I walked through the bedroom where Hoppy had been waiting moments ago, like walking through warm passages of air except they were made of sex.

“I know,” he said, which surprised me. There was no humor in his reply, it sounded more like sadness or regret. “You look good too. Really, good, Hulkster.” When he said ‘really good’ his words seemed to penetrate my brain like a pang of electric passion.

I unzipped my pants and pushed them off my hips to examine the damage. My shorts were sodden with cum, as if someone squeezed a week’s supply of it out of my balls. “Fuck,” I said.

“You need some pants or something?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Does this happen so often that you bring extra pants just in case?”

“I just meant that you could wear a pair of mine.”

“And I was joking.” I kicked my shoes off so I could get out of my own pants. “This is stupid, you don’t have to stand in a dark closet while I clean myself up. It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked in the locker room back in school.”

“Are you sure?”

I thought about what had happened and although I totally wasn’t sure, I both felt bad that Hoppy felt the need to hide and equally horny that I wanted to look at that man again, even just to see if he had the same effect now that the shock of his intense beauty was past. “I’m not sure but this is going to be a weird reunion otherwise, don’t you think?”

He opened the closet door a crack and I could see one of his intense blue eyes peering out. “It’s… actually it’s kind of your fault.”

I turned towards him, wiping cum off my still-throbbing dick and buzzing ball sack and asked, “How in the world is this my fault, Hoppy?”

He kept peering through the crack. “Well, um, I mean, not entirely of course. But… did you have to be so handsome?”

“Look who’s talking.” He laughed again and my cock slapped against my belly. “Fuck,” I said, unintentionally, as another sudden shock of sex struck me.

“Sorry,” he repeated.

“Stop apologizing and just… would you come out of there please? This is too weird.”

The closet door opened slowly and he revealed his extraordinary and irresistible beauty to my eyes all over again. With each inch of the opening door’s exposure of his fully-clothed body, the sensation of sexual heat began to swell around me again. I started to breathe harder, like it was a physical exertion just to look at him. “Are you sure?” he asked again.

I swallowed thickly and felt my cock swell in my grip. “Maybe I should just leave my pants off.”

He shrugged. It was like watching a mountain range move. “Maybe?”

“What… what is happening?”

“The project,” he said, opening the closet door fully. “I wasn’t exactly sure this would happen but then you walked in looking like you look and I felt all these… Sorry, I shouldn’t blame you. This is all my fault.”

I was still holding my cock just looking at Hoppy who was standing about six feet away. The heat in the space continued to increase, and I felt trickles of sweat along my spine and between my butt cheeks. “What is all your fault?”

He sighed. I felt my balls tingle with desire. He was incredibly handsome, almost too handsome to look at, like looking at a dream. “I never intended… Never mind. Sorry, can you at least put that away? It’s incredibly distracting.”

“This is distracting?” I said, wagging my hard-on at him. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“I guess you have a point.” He looked down at my dick and licked his lips. “Are you going to ejaculate again?”

“Just say come. No one says ejaculate.”

“If I say… that word… it could have a rather dramatic effect.”

“If you say ‘come’?” He nodded. “If you merely say the word ‘come’ right now you’re telling me….”

“Come.”

I felt something like being shoved very hard by a potent and overpowering sensation of pure masculine sex overwhelm my soul. I heard him sigh and moan slightly but my eyes were closed from the intensity of the impact, a stroke of lightning had struck me in the libido with the power of a thousand suns. I grit my teeth and clenched my jaw. My toes curled and I nearly shouted with pure joy as I felt my cock swell massively in my hand and a fresh thick stream of cream shoved its way from my tingling balls. “Fuck,” I managed to say, while I felt my knees give out and I fell to the tile floor, pumping heavy volleys of cum until I had nothing left to pump.

I was leaning over, one hand on the floor and the other grasping my still throbbing dick. I was coated in sweat and had painted one wall with cream. I was breathing hard and felt both sexually euphoric and physically drained.

“Okay,” I finally managed to say, “I guess I deserved that.” I laughed despite my unique predicament and my head was spinning.

“Well, I did warn you.”

I looked up and he was still standing where he had been before saying that single word that had ‘a rather dramatic effect’ on me. “Does that happen often?”

“More often than I like, and less often than you’d imagine. I try not to let it. But controlling it with you around seems to be causing more of a challenge than I anticipated.”

“Not to let it? You can control that?”

“I can… mitigate it.” He licked his lips again. “Usually.”

“But not with me.”

Hoppy’s mountain range shifted again.

I sat back on my heels and held up a hand, “I’m just gonna try to stand up now. Please don’t say ‘come’ again.”

He smiled and I nearly came again anyway. “Okay. Should I go back in the closet?”

I shook my head. “No one should ever have to ask that question, metaphorically or otherwise.”

He laughed again and said, “I really have missed you, Hulkster.”

“Likewise,” I said. I regained my legs and started pulling my pants up before remembering why I pulled them down in the first place. “You said you had some pants?”

He nodded. “In my luggage. Next to the bed.”

I looked at his tall, wide, well-muscled frame and said, “Not sure they’re going to fit me. I’m pretty puny compared to you.”

“Almost everyone is,” he answered, matter-of-factly. “But I think it’s just safer if you cover up. This is a two-way street.”

“What is?”

“I know you’re attracted to me. But I’m… attracted to you too.”

“You are? Since when?”

“Since always, dummy.” My face must have registered my disbelief because he frowned and sighed. “Put some pants on before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious. If Hoppy could command me to come with a single word, what else could he do?

He smiled. “Use your imagination.”

I didn’t need to, I still had his picture on my phone and my imagination had been very active leading up to this meeting. “Can I get past you without, like, spontaneously erupting?” A sudden and unexpected look of hurt based quickly over his insanely beautiful features and he started moving back into the closet when I held up my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy tiger. I think I can manage to resist your charms for long enough to get out of the bathroom.”

He didn’t answer but that sad look struck me much harder than I expected. I had genuinely hurt him, it seemed.

But I did manage move around his massive, muscular frame—I was six-one, six-two in my shoes, and he had at least six inches on me—and grab his suitcase, finding a pair of gray wool trousers (34 waist and 42 leg for crying out loud!) and started working them up my legs. They had to have been tailored for his unusually proportioned body because the butt and crotch had a lot more room in it than my own pants. And glancing back at Hoppy standing in the door of the closet illustrated exactly why.

“Okay,” I said, sitting on the couch again. “The pants are on. You should be able to resist my overwhelming sexiness now.”

He remained standing in the bedroom doorway though, as if scared to venture closer. “I’m so glad you came,” he said. “Oops!”

I didn’t come this time. “Don’t worry,” I said, adjusting my throbbing but not erupting dick. “I guess context is important.” I looked him up and down again, trying to imagine what that body would look like naked. “I think you should explain what’s going on.”

“It’s going to sound crazy,” he said, “which is why I wanted to meet you in person. So you would understand and believe me.”

“The project?” I asked.

He nodded. “The project.”

“Can you sit down, Hoppy? I’m going to get a crick in my neck looking up at you. Just how tall…?”

“Six feet, ten inches this morning.”

“This morning?”

“Two hundred and eighty nine pounds.”

“This morning?” He nodded again. “So you’re….”

“Growing.”

“You’re growing.” Nod. “Taller.” Nod. “Bigger.” Shrug. “The project.”

“You no doubt remember what I looked like in high school.”

“You were the shortest kid in class at graduation.”

“And the fattest.”

My eyebrow arched. “Not anymore.”

“I only wanted to improve human lifespans. Eliminate disease, or at least reduce the human body’s resistance to it. But as I started playing with DNA I realized….”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Hoppy. What does ‘playing with DNA’ mean?”

“Exactly that,” he said. That voice of his, even when he was getting technical and decidedly not-sexy, was drilling into my libido. “I don’t have to explain DNA to you, obviously, you know what it is.”

“The building blocks.”

“Exactly. And we can now map the entire genome and discover what every pair or genes does, or can do. So the project was only meant to improve us—humans—to help us be better than we were. Avoid diseases, extend life. But I realized I could do more than fix things, I could improve them.”

“I feel like this is the conversation Frankenstein had with Igor at one point.”

“And I’m the monster.”

“Hoppy, you are not a monster. But it looks like you definitely have one hiding in your pants.” I smiled trying to lighten his mood. “Look, I get that you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he said.

“And that’s why you’re standing over there and hiding in closets? Because you’re not scared?”

“You saw what happens.”

“I’m okay, Hoppy.” He started to object. “I get to judge how I feel. And I’m okay. Now would you please sit down?” As I said these words to comfort him, a wave of that sex heat washed over me and I had to gasp and swoon.

“Sorry,” he said.

I regained my composure and sucked in a deep breath. “What is that?”

“Me. That’s me. I can’t help it. It’s… I mean, I could explain it in scientific terms but in effect I’m sort of… making sexual attraction a physical manifestation.”

Oh. “But what is it, exactly?”

He paused to gather his thoughts and sat down on the edge of the bed, which sagged under his weight. I couldn’t help but notice how the bulge between his legs because epically prominent. “After I started the project, when I began to apply its effects on my own DNA as a guinea pig, things—unintended things—began to manifest. I didn’t even realize it at first, because I was doing the experiments and research on my own, in my own lab. I wasn’t exactly following scientific protocol, but that’s my own fault. The results… the physical results, astounded me. And I wanted more.”

“The growing and… so on?” I motioned absently at his overburdened crotch.

He smiled proudly. “I didn’t realize what else I was altering, with no others around. And by the time I realized what I had done, it was too late.”

“You couldn’t… undo it?”

Hoppy shook his handsome head. “It was too complicated, like pulling a thread from something without realizing its full impact. And I hadn’t really considered going backwards. Once I was making real progress, once I started to see the results beyond the small measurable ones, I was astounded by what was happening. Just the physical changes at first. The steps involved… like I said, I started wanting to just improve some things, but the more I gained, the more I wanted to gain.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me the feeling.”

I smiled and raised one arm and tensed the biceps into swollen power. I worked hard on my body and it showed. Hoppy bit his bottom lip and reached one hand down to grasp the massive meat gathered in his crotch. He moaned slightly and the sensation of sexual heat swelled between us again. “Fuck,” I groaned.

“It’s something new.”

“Whuh…what is?” The heat was sensual and overwhelming.

“That broadcast of sexual desire.”

“Desire?”

He nodded.

“You… desire me?”

“Honestly, I desire everyone. All the time. It doesn’t stop. I crossed some threshold and I can’t go back. I always feel this way.”

“Horny?”

“Crude but correct. Remember being a teenager? Getting erections for no apparent reason, feeling aroused at the slightest provocation? It’s like that only… much stronger. And constant.”

“And I thought you were just happy to see me.”

He smiled his gorgeous, perfect smile again. “I am, Hulkster. I am.”

I felt that sensation again and realized that what he had said was entirely true. It was the sensation of desire. Of wanton, unbridled, unconfined desire. The feeling of being horned up but amplified and all-consuming.

He paused, but then he said. “I have always wanted you. I’ve wanted you since high school. I want you right now. I want you desperately. Intensely. Passionately.”

Hoppy always had a way with words. And as each expression of his lust passed between his thick and sensual lips, something struck me. That sensation of sex, of lust, of desire. The broadcast of sexual desire as he called it. I could feel it physically, how strongly he wanted me, how powerful his lust for me was.

“I’m scared of what might happen, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t.”

“What might happen?”

“I’m… not certain. But you’ve already seen what I can do. You’ve felt it. You’re feeling it now, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“It’s more powerful when we touch?”

“It’s overwhelming,” he said.

“How…? How…?”

He tiled his head slightly and looked away. The sensation abided somewhat without his gaze on me. “Think of it as a second puberty, to be extremely simplistic. The human body is constantly changing, growing, shedding dead cells, growing hair and nails. At some point much of that growth stops and we start aging. Teeth don’t get replaced. Skin starts to wrinkle and sag. Hair doesn’t come back as thickly as it once did.” He brushed his hand through his own mane of gorgeous, shining locks, light brown with golden threads, and I watched his biceps swell so large I thought his shirt would finally give way. “I simply devised a way for the body to continually replenish itself.” He glanced down at his own magnificence and sighed. “At first.”

“At first?”

His blue gaze met mine and I swooned again. My god, he was gorgeous. “It was a series of updates, of course, and my first tries were purely experimental.”

“On yourself.”

He nodded. “I wanted to keep this all secret, and the easiest way to do that was not to involve anyone else. And I’m…rich. As you probably know. So stocking a private lab with pretty much anything I wanted or needed was equally easy. As the founder of two of the most successful med-tech firms, any equipment I ordered wouldn’t be too closely monitored. No one was going to ask questions, but then something big happened and I had to kind of go underground.”

“What happened?”

His hand began to caress and explore his chest and belly and arms, moving across his swollen muscular contours with obvious pleasure. “This. Not all at once, and not quickly at first. I could feel something had changed, like some switch had been thrown, but I had managed by that time to make so make small changes to myself that I didn’t realize the extent of these changes until it was unavoidable. And, frankly, at first, I couldn’t believe what was happening. It made no logical sense, until I moved logic out of the equation.”

“You’re losing me.” As he had been moving his hands across his body, the sexual heat he was apparently producing was growing stronger. “And if you keep that up my dick’s gonna explode again. So unless you brought a lot more pairs of pants….”

He stopped caressing himself. “Apologies,” he said. “I sometimes forget.”

“You said you left logic out of the equation.”

“Right. So… so, this is theoretical and I don’t have any documentation to prove I’m right, but I think my emotional mind has been altered to not only provide my own emotional state, but to broadcast it outwards to others and change their emotional state as well. And as a side effect to that, I guess….”

“You guess?”

He nodded. “I guess that my physical body is now so attuned to my emotional state that the sensations of sexual pleasure, or sexual desire, or particularly sexual satisfaction now have a direct and powerful effect on my body.”

“What kind of effect?”

“Physically it seems to manifest as growth, muscular development, and a constant refinement of my appearance. It’s subtle, for the most part, but I’m sure you’ve noticed I look different than you remember.”

“My dick certainly attests to that,” I half-joked, but he laughed anyway.

“My body is constantly adjusting itself now. A second, prolonged puberty, like I said, a kind of refinement of sexual maturity if you will. And in order to satisfy my desires, which are incredibly strong, my physical form is continually refining itself to its utmost potential for attracting others.”

“You’re… getting more handsome?”

He smiled. “You don’t think so?”

“I always said you were cute and as I recall there were two or three girls interested in…”

“I wasn’t interested in girls,” he explained.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah.” He actually managed to blush. It made my cock throb and swell. “It was you I was interested in. It was always you.”

“I’m flattered,” I said, because I was. “But I never had a clue! We were always just Hoppy and the Hulk. Best friends.”

“I’m not blaming you or anything, Hulkster. High school was already confusing and I didn’t want to add to what you were already carrying. Plus, having seen what happened to you—and you were the football captain! Big man on campus! No way I was going to be able to deal with that. I’m just… sorry you had to do it alone.”

“I was never alone,” I said. “You were always there with me. And I’m well past that shit, Hoppy, so don’t worry about it. We were both kids.”

He smiled. “But we’re not kids anymore.”

I scanned his massive form and nodded. “No, we are definitely not kids anymore.”

There was a silence then as we considered each other anew. I caught his eyes scanning my body, lingering on my arms or my chest or my crotch. I took the opportunity to look at his, too, watching the material of his shirt and pants stretch to the breaking point stretched across his magnificence. “So, why am I really here, Hoppy?”

“If you let me,” he said, “I want to change your life forever.”

“And that’s the gist of it.”

“That’s… one hell of a gist.”

Hoppy smiled and I was almost getting used to the sensation of my dick constantly throbbing and tingling when he did that. He was trying to explain the ins and outs of how he came to be the epitome of masculine perfection sitting leisurely in front of me. Turns out the reason he was so puny in high school was genetic, and something he determined to overcome no matter how long it took him.

I never knew how much it bothered him, but there were health concerns involved, not to mention that if he had not found a solution to his “little problem” as he termed it his life expectancy was going to be severely curbed. So he managed to use that big fat brain of his to power his way through six years of medical training in half the time, and found that some of the byproducts of his investigations into male genetic development also happened to help out dudes who couldn’t get hard-ons, which as we all know is worth a fortune. Nobody doesn’t want boner pills, and his were both highly effective and had almost none of the side effects of the others.

Once the boner money started rolling it, and a shit-ton of money was pouring in, he pushed all of it—well, most of it into further research into his own personal challenges, and taking that research into places no one else had ever tried before. But as a result, he had to use himself as the sole recipient of the various trials, some of which he said were quite painful, but the most painful ones turned out to have the most successful results as well.

“Some of it was pretty… embarrassing, to be frank.”

“Embarrassing? Is that worse than incredibly painful?”

He smiled again, and my cock throbbed. “My penis experienced some rather dramatic changes.”

“Good changes or bad changes?”

He shrugged. It looked as if his muscles swelled larger rather than his shoulders had lifted. “At one point I was gaining half-an-inch a week.”

I swallowed hard. “You did what, now?”

He glanced down for a moment and his face colored. “I… intended to correct a few flaws. The boner pills, as you called them, taught me a lot about the human penis, erectile tissue, genital development and growth. Most of that depends on heredity, but when you unlock the genetics you can… play around a bit.”

I laughed slightly at his clinical description of making his dick bigger. His handsome eyebrows drew together curiously and I said, “Sorry, you just have a… Hoppy way of saying things.”

“I know, it can be off-putting.”

“It’s cute,” I said. He blushed again. “So, let’s see it.”

“What?”

“Your cock.”

His blush was very deep this time. “I… really?”

I nodded. “You always used to show your science projects to me.”

“I remember,” he replied, chuckling. His voice was so deep and powerful, even when he was speaking softly. “I always thought you were bored.”

“I get the feeling that seeing your inches-bigger dick isn’t going to bore me. If you’ll recall,” I said, pointing my thumbs at myself, “gay man sitting right here. Kinda into dicks.”

“I remember,” he said. Then he stood up and pulled in a deep breath. “This… feels weird.”

“What’s so weird about showing a dude you haven’t seen since high school your new, improved cock? Seems perfectly ordinary to me.”

“You’ve done this a lot?” One of his thick eyebrows arched. His eyes sparkled. Fuck, he was handsome.

It was my turn to shrug. “I’ve seen so many cocks in my life I’ve lost count. Asking another man I’m alone in a room with to show me his dick is actually one of the easiest things I do in life. Most guys… whoa! Jesus, Hoppy!”

He had unzipped his pants and pushed them off his hips as I was making small talk. Once I could see his underwear, the bulge that was swelling between his legs could be called, by anyone’s estimate, incredibly impressive. “Too big?”

“I mean… go ahead.”

“Go ahead and what?”

“Pull him out.”

“Oh. Okay.” He looked down and started to move his hand—which was large and masculine as well—towards the heavy, obvious bulge filled with his dick and balls. “Should I…?

“Dude. Just pull it out…holy fuck!” He dug his hand inside and hauled out inch after thick, mind-boggling inch of prick. It was firm and almost muscular looking, with a thick vein running its length and a tight cowl of foreskin hugging the mushroom head. He stood calmly before me with his cock hanging out over his shorts.

Now, I’d seen big cocks before. But what Hoppy owned was like another level higher than any other dick I’d ever seen. It was… beautiful. Gorgeous. Perfect. My mouth started watering just wanting to wrap my tongue around its thickness. I wanted to grasp it in my hands, to feel its weight, to stroke its velvety flesh and feel its warmth as it swelled towards erection. I wanted to lick the tip and taste him as he leaked pre-cum on my tongue. “How…?”

“Twenty-one point 6 centimeters.” My brain was too blown by what I was looking at to make the conversion from metric, but he saw my confused expression and added, “Approximately eight-and-one-half inches.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Like I said, embarrassing.”

“That is probably the last word I would consider when describing that humongous length of beautiful cock. More like gorgeous. Or magnificent. Or breathtaking. Or… stunning. I am stunned.”

“Really?”

As I watched it, it began to swell. Apparently my words were having a positive effect. “Monumental.” It twitched. “Impressive.” The head began to escape its tight cowl of foreskin. “Perfect.”

“Really?”

“What did everyone else say?”

“Everyone else?”

“Who’s been privileged to witness your amazing, colossal cock!”

It was lengthening quickly now. The shaft was inflating as it continued swelling larger and larger, both in length and thickness. “Oh. Nothing, really. I get a lot of stunned stares and open mouths.”

“No doubt because they want you to stick it in their mouths.”

“One man just looked at it and turned around.”

“To hide his own hard-on, no doubt.” I opened my legs wider to indicate that my own cock was having a very positive reaction.

“Oh,” he said, and that ball-tingling smile came to his kissable lips again.

“Wait. Are you telling me that you own the world’s most beautiful prick and you haven’t taken advantage of it?” It was still growing! “How… big does it get?”

He looked down at it. It was now standing straight out from his body. The head was fully exposed, glistening as if someone’s lips had been wrapped around it. The thick vein was getting thicker, and more were joining it. “Well, that’s the thing.”

“Which thing is that?”

“The reason I haven’t taken advantage of it.” It was throbbing and swelling, growing longer and thicker by the second, arching its beautiful mushroom head higher and higher. “It’s a bit… unwieldy.”

I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he grew and grew. “Uh huh,” I said. It was the most amazing thing I had ever witnessed—at least where cocks were concerned.

“Currently, it’s thirty-one centi… it’s twelve and one-quarter inches when fully aroused.”

“Can I…” My hand was reaching forward almost of its own volition.

“Please,” he said. I looked at his face, into those gorgeous eyes, and he was looking into mine. “It… feels good.”

“I bet it does,” I agreed. “Wait… ‘currently’?” He licked those full, soft lips.

I got up from my chair and fell to my knees before him. I could feel its heat as I grew close. His prick was now at its full glory, grown massive and irresistible.

I wanted to lick it. I wanted to suck it. I wanted to feel it shove against the back of my throat and slide inside me, hot and throbbing as I sucked and sucked and sucked on it. I wanted to press my tongue against it and slather it in spit and slide my hands along every hard, thick inch and feel it throb and warm as he approached orgasm, squeezing his thick load from his balls and watching it explode with cream before I set my lips to his piss slit and swallowed every delicious pump of cum he could produce.

I grasped him and he groaned and sighed. He was extremely hard, like steel, but it felt like silken velvet in my hand. I could hardly grasp the entire thing with one hand. “Yes,” he whispered softly. I looked up to his face and his eyes were closed. His hands were tightly knotted into fists.

“Do you like this?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he whispered again.

“Open your eyes.” He did, looking down at me. I moved my hand up his inches toward the head, moving my thumb onto the tender tip and rubbing him gently. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss it?’

“Be careful,” he said, oddly.

“Careful?”

“I’m…very sensitive.”

“In a good way, I hope.” It was lame joke, but he took it seriously.

“Maybe I should….” He closed his eyes and groaned again as I stroked him. I spit into my palm and slicked up the thick shaft, slowly moving my tight grip along his stone-hard erection. A sudden, thick delivery of pre swelled at the mouth of his cock and began drooling down like honey. “Oh, god,” he moaned softly.

I moved forward, opened my mouth, extended my tongue, and lapped up a thick delivery of his delicious, pungent pre-cum. We moaned in unison this time. He tasted like raw sex. My other hand reached behind him to grasp his butt. I wanted to knead his ass, but what I found was almost too hard to be kneaded. It was a mound of thick muscular power, and my prick throbbed as I imagined pulling those powerful hemispheres apart and pushing my tongue against his quivering hole.

My brain was overheated. I’d never felt so horny in my life. I stroked his cock and caressed his ass as he groaned and sighed. I moved my lips and tongue all over that magnificent phallus. It was like having a monument to male power in my hands. I moved my tongue to the slit and closed my lips over the fat head and lapped at the constant stream of sweet salty pre he was pumping from his fat balls.

I looked up, my mouth on his throbbing meat, and started shoving his pants and underwear off his body.

“Maybe… you shouldn’t.” He almost whispered the warning, like it was an afterthought, or like his brain was trying to overcome its own deep sexual desire.

I licked the length of him. “Really? You want me,” I paused, licking him again, “to stop?”

“Fuck,” he whispered.

The word was like a beautiful dangerous dagger thrust deeply into my sex drive. My cock swelled to thickness all over again and I was overwhelmed with lust. I grabbed his fat, hard prick in my hands and started to suck on him like my life depended on it. Hoppy was moaning and sighing and then I felt his large hand on the back go my head and he was starting to face fuck me, moving his hips and pushing himself towards the back of my throat.

To be honest, I am an excellent cocksucker. I have a lot of practice, sure, but also I am an avid and enthusiastic fan of sucking a dick, and here in my hands I had the most beautiful and perfect dick I had ever encountered.

He tasted like sex. He was leaking pre copiously, and I was lapping it up and swallowing it like a man possessed. I am pleased to report that I have almost no gag reflex, and although it felt like this man’s cock was so large that it was going to break my jaw, I was beyond any other feeling or desire other than to suck him until he came.

Which by the swelling of his monster in my mouth and my grasp indicated it wasn’t going to take long at all.

“I’m…”

I looked up at his handsome face, not pausing for a second. His eyes were pinched shut and veins stood out on his thick muscular neck. His shirt was soaked in sweat and his muscles seemed to be pushing out against his clothes like they wanted to strip him bare by ripping his body free of them, to expose his perfect masculine frame for me to see.

“I’m gonna…”

His hand on the back of my head suddenly pushed me hard against his groin and I felt his prick—all twelve thick inches of it—slide down my throat as my nose came in contact with his warm, soft pubic bush and its intense aroma of pure male sex. Tears came to my eyes and I was sucking air through my nostrils as my hands gripped his muscular ass and I held on for dear life. That sensation of sex was suddenly so vast and overwhelming that it felt like I was drowning inside it, like I had been pushed entirely beneath a tide of pure orgasmic lust.

“I’m gonna come.”

What Hoppy didn’t prepare me for was the literal flood of cum he was about to start pumping out of that monster. To say that I was surprised when his foot-long, inches-thick cock somehow slid so effortlessly down my gullet would be an understatement, but even that shock was nothing compared to the sensation I was about be subjected to when his mammoth cock started to throb and swell and gush inside me.

I was so startled that I had no time to think or react. It seemed I had only just started sucking his beautiful dick and relishing his taste and heat and that feeling of pure sexual delight bathing my senses when he was pulling my face against his pelvis and shoving himself so deeply inside me that I wondered how he—or I—could manage it.

Then I could feel his cock swelling in powerful throbbing waves and realized he was coming his load down my throat in thick, hot tides. But even as that physical sensation began, my brain and pleasure centers were being equally flooded with the most intensely powerful sexual assault that I had ever experienced. I have had powerful orgasms before, but this was something beyond that, plus the fact that I wasn’t the one whose cock was exploding with cream.

I groaned in absolute bliss at the feeling of this incredible cock pumping inside me, sending sound waves of delight through his massive shaft and he was making the same sort of deeply satisfied groans from his massive chest. It sounded like an earthquake, something powerful and overwhelming and uncontrollable.

He came and he came. I didn’t even have to swallow because his cock was jammed all the way down my throat, shooting its thick warm fountain of cream over and over. I had never felt anything like it.

I don’t know how long it lasted. Guys normally come in, like, a few seconds. Shoot shoot, shoot, dribble and it’s over, but Hoppy was pulling my face against his body again and again, groaning and sighing like a bear, and with every thrust I could feel him pump a fat load of cream inside me that felt like it was warming me like a bath except from my belly outward.

I tried to keep looking at him, at his gorgeous face and impressive body. The material of his shirt had grown transparent as he poured sweat, and I swear I could see his muscles swelling. It seemed to me from my angle below him that his pecs were slowly swelling forward, pulling the placket of his dress shirt apart as the buttons strained to hang on. His biceps were testing the limits of his sleeves, and were the seams on his shoulders fraying? He was breathing fast and hard as he continued to pump thick cream over and over, and veins were swelling on his neck. It was a fucking massive turn-on thinking that he was growing even bigger and stronger as I sucked the cum out of his balls.

I did not want it to end, but eventually he was done. I had tried to keep my eyes on his body and face as he came, and it was both erotic and powerful. His muscular frame was drenched in sweat, which amped up the scent of him. He was generating heat like a furnace, and I watched his massive chest and deeply carved six-pack swell and recede as he sucked air into his lungs.

Finally he opened his eyes and looked down at me, our gazes locked on each other, and he smiled and rubbed the back of my head almost like a favored pet. I enjoyed that feeling, of his large paw rubbing my scalp, and I tried to smile to register my own satisfaction but with his thick prick still lodged down my throat, my jaw was doing all it could to contain him.

He pulled himself from me and I was both shocked and excited as his cock still managed to fountain a few thick deliveries of cream over my face and neck. He was still cumming! He reached his hand around his dick and stroked himself along its slick, spit-coated surface, coaxing the last thick deliveries of cum from his fat balls and I stuck out my tongue and he pointed the cannon at my mouth and I licked and swallowed those last pumps with eager hunger.

Then I was sitting on my heels beneath him, that massive shank of pure male sex slowly growing lip before my eyes, licking my lips and grinning like an idiot. “Holy fuck,” I said at last.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a growl.

“I mean, holy fuck, Hoppy! That was amazing!”

“Really?”

“What do you mean, ‘really?’ Jesus Christ, do you always come that much?”

His strong brow arched and he kind of smirked. “Yes? I mean, usually I’m, you know, just masturbating to ejaculation but that seemed… more powerful.”

“Seemed?”

His handsome face colored with an embarrassed blush, matching the deep red of his prick which was now hanging in abundant glory in front of my face, still shiny and slick with my spit. “I… don’t have much experience.”

It was my turn to look abashed. “What does that mean?”

“I… I’m a virgin.”

“The fuck?” I responded, before thinking. Hoppy was a virgin? I mean, I guess it was possible but at the same time it seemed impossible. The man was now a walking, talking erection of massive proportions. Just being in the same room with him made me come in my shorts, and nearly every waking moment we were together today was driving my libido into the red zone.

But his face still looked embarrassed—that is, when I could pull my attention from that thick length of perfect cock hanging from his furry loins. “Sorry. Sorry. I mean, uh, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just… surprising.”

He didn’t immediately respond, and instead he backed away and started trying to shove that massive shank back into his trousers. “I mean, it isn’t like I intended to… not….”

“You don’t have to explain,” I started saying as I awkwardly got to my feet. “It’s nobody’s business what you do or don’t do.”

“When I was… the way I was. When I was small and fat, I mean, nobody really paid any attention to me. You know how it is. Especially among other men. If you don’t look good, you aren’t getting much attention. Plus I wasn’t—I don’t exactly have an outgoing personality.”

“But—sorry again—but it would seem to me that all you need to do now is walk into literally any bar or gym or, like, coffee shop in the world and you’re gonna walk out with a dozen phone numbers and probably a blow job in the men’s room.”

“That happens?”

I almost laughed thinking of how often I had given or received a toilet blow job. “Yeah. It happens.”

“Isn’t that rather unseemly? And… dangerous? The germs alone in that environment would seem to suggest….”

I held up my hand. “That’s all true, but sometimes your dick is talking louder than your brain.”

He looked down at his overburdened crotch bulge. “I had noticed that.”

“So, wait, is that… the first blow job you’ve ever had?”

“Oh, no, I’ve had blow jobs before.” He said it almost proudly.

“So you’re not a virgin.”

“What I mean is that I’ve never…”

“You’ve never fucked anyone.” He nodded slowly. “Or been fucked.” Another nod. “Hoppy, sex is whatever you enjoy. Whatever you want it to be. As long as you’re having fun and getting off, that’s sex.”

“But, I mean, technically speaking.”

I checked my watch comically. “Well, I have a few minutes right now if you do.”

“Oh. No. I didn’t mean that we should….”

I interrupted him. “I’m joking, Hoppy.” My eyes scanned his sweaty, muscular, crotch-bulging body. “Well, half-joking.”

“I mean… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to.” His eyes were doing the same to my body, and his cock was somehow managing to swell all over again, displaying his growing arousal with undisguised frankness.

I was watching his inches swell and lengthen down his thigh and felt a strong sensation of doubt in my mind. Even though I wanted his cock in my butt, I was leery of managing a foot-long, wrist-thick hunk of man meat, even given that I owned a fairly well-trained hole.

He seemed to recognize my doubt, but interpreted it as something else. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“Well, to be honest? There’s a question of practicality involved.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“Um.” I went up to him very close and reached down and grabbed his burgeoning meat. “You own a hell of a lot of prime cock here, and I’m not 100% certain my tender butt can handle it.”

“Oh! Oh, I was thinking that you… would….”

He wanted to be fucked? That was interesting. Normally guys are more than a little hesitant to be on the receiving end if they’ve never done it. So I had to ask. “Have you… played with your butt before?”

“Played with it?”

I had to smile. I was still massaging and squeezing him, feeling him growing hotter and harder with alarming speed. “Fingered your hole? Explored yourself in the shower? Bought a butt toy and rubbed your prostate with it?”

His hips were slowly rotating and he was pushing himself into my grip with anxious hunger. “I know the mechanics involved, but I’ve never… played.” He groaned and pushed himself against me. His muscles were so hard, thick and powerful, and he smelled amazing.

“Maybe we should start there, then.” I found the head of his prick and rubbed him with my thumb. “Explore a bit. Figure out what you enjoy.”

“I’m enjoying this,” he said, unnecessarily. I pushed my hand under the waistband of his pants and grabbed his hot meat. He opened his eyes and grinned. “A lot.”

“Well, luckily you’re with a very experienced man who knows his way around a hot ass.”

“Yeah?” he asked, the grin growing into a smile.

“How big is the shower in this penthouse?”


Turned out that the shower was very large, and while we waited for the water to get hot, I suggested that we explore each other’s bodies before pushing into the heart of the matter.

Hoppy started stripping himself pretty quickly—I thought he might rip his way out of his clothes, which for some reason appeared to be smaller now than when I first saw him—before I put my hands on his to stop him. “Do it slowly,” I taught him. “Teasing is a big turn-on.”

His thick eyebrows arched curiously. “Teasing?”

“You have a lot to learn.”

“And are you a good teacher, Hulkster?” His deep voice saying my nickname made my dick throb.

“I’m the best,” I answered. Then I pushed up on my toes and reached my lips towards his. He was hesitant at first, which I expected. We were friends, not lovers, even if I had just swallowed his cock and sucked him dry. There was a different intimacy to kissing than cocksucking, and he seemed to pull back a bit.

That is until I started pushing my tongue between his lips and inside his warm, wet mouth, and then he was tangling his tongue with mine and suddenly his hand was behind my neck, warm and strong, and he was groaning and rubbing his body against mine as his walls began to fall away.

He was a passionate man, even if his demeanor never hinted at it. Had he always been holding himself back, afraid of intimacy? The old Hoppy was still inside this muscular body and hiding behind this handsome man’s face. But since I was urging him to be intimate with me now, the flame of that long-smoldering passion was growing quickly powerful.

I’ve been told I’m a great kisser, probably because I enjoy it so much. Kissing is possibly more intimate that sex for me. Sex is easy, and you can fake it pretty easily. But you can’t fake a kiss. It’s either real or it isn’t.

And this was real. Hoppy started to kiss me with intensity and enthusiasm, as if I had given him permission to finally feel the intense passion he always had inside his soul.

It was… intense. And as we kissed I again had the subtle sensation that his body was swelling in time with his passion. My eyes were closed as we kissed so all the physical sensations were amplified, and my hands on his broad, muscular chest felt something like growth occurring. Even though he already had several inches on me, I felt as though his head was pulling away from me, and I struggled to maintain the kiss. He seemed to sense it, but rather than pull away to end it, his strong arms encircled me and he physically—and easily—lifted me off my feet to keep kissing me, which was both surprising and extremely erotic.

I love powerful men. I love being with strong men, feeling their muscles, feeling their strength, and Hoppy right now was turning me on more forcefully than I think he knew. I was becoming overwhelmed by him, and I loved it. And the knowledge that he wanted me to fuck him—that I was going to be able to top this mountain of powerful muscle and show him for the first time in his life what that intimate and potent sensation felt like when a man penetrates your ass and drills you into the mattress—enflamed me beyond containment.

My dick was painfully hard and he was grinding his own monster against mine as he held me off my feet and kissed my mouth with an intensity and raw need that I had never felt before. I was almost faint with desire for him.

The room was suddenly filled with swirls of steam and we were both overheated from the wet heat and out shared ardor. I reluctantly pulled my mouth from his and he opened his eyes to gaze into mine. “Let’s get naked,” I said.

He smiled and I nearly came. Was he even more handsome now than just a few moments ago, before we shared that toe-curling, cock-hardening kiss? He seemed to me to be so.

“But slowly?”

I nodded. “I want to watch,” I said. He smiled. “Which means you need to put me down.”

“Oh!” He did so, allowing me to slide from his strong embrace back to my own feet. I could feel the length and heat and hardness of his cock along my smaller body as I slid down his frame. He was hard as a rock, again, even after he had come buckets only minutes ago.

I backed away from him to watch him strip himself naked. I was anxious and excited by the prospect. At the moment he looked almost like a mummy—a sexy, muscular, very handsome mummy—since his clothes were skin tight and hugging the muscular bulges of his incredible body. The room was misty with steam and his clothes clung to him like a second skin. I could see the dark impression of his nipples and he was apparently much hairier than I remembered him from high school, with a dark carpet stretching across the heavy globes of muscle on his chest and a dark trail leading between the impressive bulges of his highly-defined six-pack abs.

But Hoppy stood there, narrowed his eyes, crossed his ham-like arms across his barrel chest—sincerely testing the limited of his sweat-soaked shirt—and said, “Show me how it’s done.”

I looked down at myself. “I kind of wish I had my own pants on. They show off my ass better.”

“Your cum-soaked pants?”

I laughed. “Yeah, my cum-soaked pants.”

“Put them on.”

“You want me to….”

“I want you to wear the pants I made you cum in.”

Well, this was a side of Hoppy I never expected. He was… dirty. “Say that again, only make your voice deeper.”

He smiled slimly. I watched his full kissable lips form the words and felt them strike me like thunder. “I want you. To wear the pants. I made you. Cum. In.”

Chills. Absolute chills. It made my balls tingle and my dick swell. “That was… very effective.”

He kept his voice in its lower register as he said, “I’ll do anything you ask me to. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Holy fuck. I nearly tripped running to get my cummy pants back on. I think I heard his rumble of a laugh behind me.

Weirdly, my pants felt even tighter than usual. I mean, I’m pretty particular about the fit because I want them to show off all the work I put into my lower body at the gym. I not only never skip leg day, I double down on it, doing so many lunges, squats, deadlifts, and kick-backs that you could not only bounce a quarter off my glutes—my glutes could support an entire table setting and still have room for a bottle of wine. I mean, my butt is amazing.

I squeezed myself into them, tugging the seat over my bubble butt and pushing my junk into the crotch and zipped myself in. Then I went back to the bedroom where Hoppy was still standing there with his awesome arms folded over that incredible chest. His thick, full mane of dark locks was hanging across his blue-eyed gaze and was winding into soft curls in the steam. He looked like Henry Cavill at his most pumped if Henry Cavill spent even more time working out and looking fine.

I walked in and did a little spin. “Approved?”

He reached down and adjusted himself. “Yes,” he rumbled. “Now take them off.”

“Shirt first, Hoppy. Always shirts first. You want to save the goods for last.”

“Like dessert?”

“Exactly like dessert.”

I started to slowly unbutton my shirt, my eyes locked on his face, watching his reaction. He looked at me like his last meal. There was hunger and desire and lust all coming through like a rainbow in a storm of sex. I opened my shirt and then turned around to show him my fine, fine ass, pulling my shirt off my shoulders and letting it drop to the carpet. I think he gasped or sighed and I heard a definite deep groan of satisfaction. I wiggled for him and he laughed. “Wow,” he whispered.

I looked over my shoulder at him and asked, “Are you ready?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “You’re so amazing.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I am.” Then I undid my cum pants and slowly, slowly revealed my Grade-A Prime butt to him.

“Holy fuck.” It was the first time I think I ever heard Hoppy curse. He said it in his lowest register, like an earthquake.

I felt a heavy shudder of pure sex shake me, almost as if he had pushed that masterful and gorgeous cock all the way inside me. It unmistakably originated from Hoppy, and I almost came again. My whole body heated up with lust and it felt almost exactly like the sensation I experience edging, that constant thrumming beautiful feeling of sexual gratification.

I moved my hand back and caressed my butt, moving my palm over the muscled hump of my ass cheek. I moved my touch between the mounds of my well-trained glutes and rubbed my fingertips against my soft, wet hole. I watched his face over my shoulder as I did it, and his mouth went slack and his eyes stayed laser focused on what my hand was doing.

Then I turned quickly around and put both hands on my chest and rubbed my thumbs on my sensitive nipples, enjoying the hard-wired sensation of erotic stimulation traveling directly to my dick, still tucked into my unzipped pants. I could smell my cum in the moist heat of the room, and I dug my hand inside my jeans to gather some of that still-wet cream and lifted my fingers to my face to smell my own masculine aroma.

I caressed my body like some fucking stripper, watching the effect my movements had on Hoppy. He licked his lips slowly and his hand was on his crotch, kneading and rubbing his swelling erection.

Then I slowly swiveled my hips and started to strip my pants down my body, moving them off my pelvis but leaving my prick stuck inside, throbbing with heavy beats. My skin is nearly hairless across my chest and belly, with just a hint under my arms. I shave my balls but leave my pubic bush full because I like it that was, and now it was erupting out of my unzipped cum pants like a crown over my dick.

“Take them off,” Hoppy groaned, and again I experienced that hard thrusting push of sexual desire against me like a physical thing, as if he was actually throwing it on my naked flesh.

I did as he instructed, pushing them down my legs and kicking them free as my dick sprang to full, throbbing attention, a drool of pre at its mouth and thick veins winding down its nearly seven thick, erect inches.

I started stroking myself as I watched him, feeling that gorgeous sexual throb erupting from my groin. Fuck I was horny, maybe hornier than I had ever been in my life. I continued slowly stroking and said, “Your turn.”

He looked up from my cock and met my gaze. Thick strands of his dark curls hung across his blue eyes and he mouth was slack. Then he put his large hands on the placket of his shirt and tore it from his body like Superman ripping his suit away to display who he really was, finally showing me the prefect, powerful, deeply arousing man he had sculpted from the raw ingredients of his former self.

All I could say, the only words I could manage to from my sex-overwhelmed brain were: “Holy fuck.”

Whatever I imagined Hoppy looked like under his soggy, skin-tight shirt was nothing compared to what I was seeing after he had so unceremoniously ripped it from his upper body.

I’ve seen plenty of beautiful bodies before of both male and female varieties, but being a gay man it’s only natural that I would admire the masculine form more. In addition, I have spent countless hours using an untold volume of weight trying to improve my own muscular development over the years of my life, reading about methods to improve muscle growth and shape, trying hard to define every swollen lobe of power to its most perfect presentation while eating right and getting plenty of aerobic exercise to be the lean, mean piece of masculine perfection I could attain.

But compared to Hoppy now, I was a puny and pathetic excuse for a man.

He stood there breathing hard in the steamy room, his torn shirt in his hands, his massive chest heaving and a look of pure lust on his face. It wasn’t so much a striptease as a display of pure, raw, unfiltered lust. The monster in his trousers was trying equally hard to rip its way free as well, and I absently wondered whether the man was feeling any pain by having that massive hard-on trapped like that.

He dropped the tattered shirt to the carpet and began to mimic what he had seen me do. Keeping his intense gaze locked on me, his hands began to caress and explore the massive, perfect bulges of muscle beneath his pale skin. His nipples were like dark dollars against the pink flesh, poking up through the furry forest that coated his incredible pectoral globes.

I watched in fascinated lust as the muscles flexed and bulged with every movement. Pencil-thick veins traversed over the softball-sized biceps mounted on his upper arms, and the dark, wet pits were overwhelmed with more manly fur, wet and dripping. I ached to lick them.

“Turn around,” I instructed. Because I wanted to see the width and taper of his back. I wanted to see if what I saw from the front, all that muscle in perfectly defined form, was mirrored there. And I was not going to be disappointed.

He pivoted around with a quick movement and as he settled again, Hoppy lifted his arms and went into a muscular pose that was slightly awkward, as if mimicking someone he had seen again rather than one practiced by a professional in a mirror. But every muscle swelled to its limit as he pushed them to rise and bulge under his slick, sweaty flesh.

It was… amazing. Unbelievable. He had achieved all this and, as far as I know, had never even set foot inside a gym. Or maybe he had? We moved so quickly to the sex parts and cocksucking that I hadn’t bothered to ask, and he hadn’t bothered to explain. But if the proof was in the pudding, the pudding Hoppy had been eating had transformed him utterly into one of the planet’s biggest, strongest, and most beautiful men.

Not to mention the whole sex waves thing and the fact that he seemed to be swelling out of his clothes in the short time we’d been together.

I should have asked him about that, but my brain was too inundated by lust and need and desire and horniness to be able to visit any sort of logical or coherent questions.

I was probably drooling—I know my dick was—when he turned back around, maintaining that muscular pose to show off his chest and arms and abs from the front as well. “Holy fuck,” I said again.

He lowered his hands to the waist of his tight trousers and began to undo them. I had already seen his monstrous sex of course, but not in conjunction with the rest of his body. Would something that huge and overwhelming look weird on him? A foot-long dick was an abnormality, but everything about Hoppy was abnormal now—or maybe supernatural was more like it.

He pulled open his fly and dug inside his crotch to extract the massive shank of sex, hauling it out with a pinched face (maybe it did hurt to coop up a massive erection in pants that tight) until he’d plucked the head from his pants and the thick prick was finally free, and as if to celebrate it began to inflate with strong, hard pulses as it refilled with blood and towered towards erection again.

I was enthralled all over again. He said something like “damn it” or “darn it” as he awkwardly stumbled a bit trying to push the pants off his legs, and in a minute or two it was apparent why it was such a struggle for him.

His legs were overwhelmed with fat lobes of hard muscle. I had seen bodybuilders shake their thighs and tense them into striations of muscular cables, but Hoppy’s legs looked like that without even trying. My god, how much iron could this man push above his head if he wanted to? How strong was that massive display of raw power that swelled under his pink skin?

Then he stood there before me finally purely naked, surrounded in whips of steam as if he was Captain American emerging from his growth cell fully formed into the superman science always dreamed of.

He was breathing hard, but I got the impression that it wasn’t from strain and it was more from lust. I based this mostly on the fact that his dick was now fully engorged and throbbing sharply, the head emerged from its tight cowl of foreskin and dripping a copious stream of honey down the long shank of its foot-high stalk. “That feels better,” he said.

“Looks better, too,” I quipped, though it was no lie. Some bodies deserved to be displayed in their naked form, a testament to the beauty of the human body, and if anyone deserved now to be permanently allowed to be nude 24/7, it was Hoppy.

He smiled at me and my heart melted. Jesus, the man was beautiful. “Ready for that shower?”

“More than,” I replied, and I went to him and put my hand on his ass and squeezed. He made a curiously high-pitched noise and wet up on his toes, clenching his ass cheeks together like a vice. I was suddenly unsure if I could fuck him. Maybe he’d snap my dick off!

The main reason I wanted to shower with him first was to get him used to having someone else’s hands all over him. That butt clench assured me that my suspicions were correct. He was a self-proclaimed virgin and that meant that he had a whole litany of walls erected around him regarding intimacy and touch, and using the excuse to wash each other meant being naked together in a way we were both used to, only this time I was going to be applying the soap all over his skin and he was going to explore my body as well.

I hadn’t been a virgin for… quite some time, but I still remember quite clearly the first time I was with another man. He was older, which was helpful, and quite tender and patient. I’m sure he knew I was unskilled without my explanations or excuses, being that I was all of seventeen years old and he was… not. But what I remember most was worrying that I was going to do something wrong, and appear to be an idiot or an oddball for not knowing what to do.

So my goal with Hoppy—who was not only unused to being intimate with someone else but was now existing in an entirely new body—was to assure him that he couldn’t do anything “wrong” with me, and that whatever he wanted to explore, I was more than happy to do that with him.

I mean, except for sticking his baseball bat in my butt, at least at first. One needs to work up to some things, doesn’t one? I’m certainly an adventurous and open-minded lover, but open-minded doesn’t naturally equate with open-butted.

On the other hand, my experience sucking on his cock had me extremely curious about what it would feel like. I loved sucking his dick, and it had somehow managed to find its way down my throat with no trouble at all, and the sensation of its heat and size and throbbing delivery of cum made me almost excited to feel him pushing it inside me and trusting against my prostate over and over.

The shower was, happily, quite huge. One of those weird open spaces without any glass that’s nearly a room in itself, with several shower heads all emitting hot sprays of water to clean every crevasse one might need cleaned. I walked behind Hoppy on purpose because I wanted to watch his fine ass bob and flex, and bob and flex it surely did! I mean, I’m proud of my keister but watching his massive muscular bubble butt was like drinking fine wine or a really good Scotch. There was shit going on there that I didn’t even know what it was, only that I really enjoyed it.

In my experience, sex in the shower isn’t as sexy as it sounds. You try to go down on someone and you find yourself drowning. You can’t open your eyes and the soap is suddenly stinging somewhere it shouldn’t sting. So rather than suggest that he bend himself against a wall and allow me to plug him there, I wanted it to be a sensual experience. To allow him to caress himself and me, and vice versa. To slide my talented hands (someone else’s words, I assure you, but who am I to argue?) all over that amazing muscular bulk, and maybe get him acquainted with the feeling of someone’s fingers exploring his tight, virginal hole.

Even within the wet heat of the shower, I could still feel Hoppy’s unusual sex vibes. He had sort of explained it to me, but it was still unbelievable that it was something I could experience so vitally. And what’s more, I could sort of tell that it was him. Like it has his signature in it, as unique as fingerprints or an eye’s iris. I wondered idly how he had managed to avoid having sex with that stuff happening all around him all the time. Wasn’t everyone he met with constantly horny for him?

I started out by asking permission before I did anything intimate. We soaped each other up and it was clear Hoppy had a fondness for dicks—or my dick in particular. He spent several very intent minutes on stroking it, and playing with the helmet, and my balls. I told him what I liked, a little tugging was good, and gripping me hard, and playing with the foreskin. He approached it all with a scientist’s curiosity at first, but then he started allowing me to try things on his body too, according some of my suggestions. Everyone has different erogenous zones, but some things are guaranteed to get a man’s engines revving.

Like, my nipples? Super sensitive. I can come just from some intense nipple play. But not every dude is so inclined. Luckily for me—because I like playing with nipples as much as I like having my nipples played with—Hoppy was also graced with sensitive ones. And the more I explored the limits of his enjoyment, the more he got into it.

I mean, this dude fucking loved nipple torture. Me, I can reach my limit when someone is chowing down or pinching them like trying to pull a splinter or something. But not Hoppy. The harder I twisted, the deeper he moaned. It was epic. I wondered how he might react if he had some heavy gauge nipple rings for us to play with.

And then it was time to start exploring butt stuff.

He was worried, like most dudes, about, you know, it being all dirty. And I explained that sometimes it is, because it’s a butt hole. But we can mitigate that with some basic tools and also that the butt is actually pretty efficient at cleaning itself—based on a dude’s diet and exercise, that is, and we both agreed that Hoppy’s body was probably the epitome of healthy.

So we were kissing, and my hand was on his ass, and my fingers started inching to his undercarriage, and I started to rub his hole, really gently of course. It’s a very tender area and it’s easy to overdue things if one isn’t careful.

But a strange thing happened. It was kind of like how his dick so easily slid down my throat and how I never gagged on him or cried or any of that stuff. As I started to play with him, he opened up for me. Like, not that he was trying to do it, but more like his body wanted it.

So I pushed inside to his warm interior and he sighed and groaned and rested his head on my shoulder. “Feel good?” I asked. He nodded. “Should I keep going?” He nodded again.

Two fingers then. And just as before, his butt welcomed the intrusion. “More,” he urged. I pushed in deeper, and was nudging his love nut. He gasped and opened his eyes and looked at me. I was smiling as I teased his prostate.

“Feel good?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, that’s usually the reaction.”

“It feels like… like jerking off but from the inside.”

“I know. You’re lucky, not every guy enjoys this.”

“Why not?”

“Bodies are different. Some find the intrusion painful. And some don’t like the sensation.”

“I do.”

“Good. Because this is just a hint of what’s to come.”

“More,” he repeated, resting his head on my shoulder again.

I pushed in a third finger, and then a fourth. Holy shit, did his butt love this. I could feel him quiver and shake with desire as my fingers explored his hole and his ass. His mouth found mine as I finger-fucked him and we started kissing passionately as the hot water splashed on our naked flesh. I could feel his mammoth cock flexing and throbbing between us against my belly, and my own was rock hard and aching with the need to explore where my fingers already were.

“I need to fuck you,” I whispered in his ear.

“Good,” he said, “because I’m pretty certain that I need to be fucked.”


We moved out of the shower and toweled each other off. He stayed rock-hard the whole time, and so did I. He cleaned me in an almost worshipful way, and again spent an inordinate amount of time paying attention to my dick, even leaning in to kiss it when he was drying me off. It was a tender and loving gesture.

When we moved back into the bedroom, both naked and horny as fuck, I got the impression that he was bigger than when we entered the shower. Perhaps it was a trick of the waning light, as night was approaching and the room was cast in shadow, but it seemed to me that he was both broader and taller than before. He looked as though he needed a shave and his hair, still damp, now hung to his shoulders and a little beyond that, like Jason Momoa but, you know, more muscular. We’d spent about 20 minutes showering and caressing each other, and I felt like I was now very, very familiar with his body and its insane muscular proportions, so it had to be my mind playing tricks.

I almost laughed as Hoppy fell onto the large California King-sized bed and immediately assumed the doggy position, even wagging his ass at me like a puppy. “Someone’s anxious,” I said.

His bright azure gaze peered over one of his mountainous shoulders. “I think I mentioned my desire to be fucked by you.”

“I seem to recall some dialog of that nature,” I replied, trying to match his oddly formal tone. “And I am of course happy to oblige.” I eyed his muscular ass and his low-hanging balls—were they as big as hen’s eggs?—with something like hunger. “You’ve had blow jobs before, but has anyone rimmed you?”

His ass wiggling stopped and he turned his face towards me again, looking perplexed. Clearly the term confused him, and he answered “Not that I know of.”

I clarified. “Has anyone ever licked your asshole?”

“Oh. Um, no.” He still looked perplexed. Clearly the idea was one he had never considered.

Hoppy owned a perfect ass. Just… perfect. At least as far as I was concerned. It was slightly furry all over, with soft delicate hairs that shone like peach fuzz. His ball sack was coated in a thick thatch of dark curls, and the wet trail of fur led between his glutes and surrounded his tight, pink, perfect hole, which looked like it had been created to be fucked.

He was still damp between his butt cheeks and the fur was plastered in soft swirls like a frame around that hole. “Well, buckle up, Hoppy,” I advised him as I climbed onto the bed behind him, “because you are about to receive a professional-level ass eating from an expert with hundreds of hours of experience.”

“Really? You want to… lick? My anus?”

“I very much want to lick your anus. I want to slick your chute up with spit and push my tongue inside you until you squirm with ecstasy and start making sounds like a chipmunk on heroin.”

“That’s… specific.” But he was smiling and wagging his ass at me again.

I grasped his ass in my hands and pulled him wider. His hole winked at me as he tensed up, which was to be expected. I moved my thumb onto his hole and rubbed him gently, allowing him to feel where all the fun was about to happen. I groaned with pleasure watching his butt respond to my touch, and then I pushed one thumb into my mouth to coat it with spit and rubbed him again, tenderly, before pushing inside—and not without some resistance, even his butt muscles were strong—and very slowly thumb-fucking him.

“That feels… curious,” he said.

“Good curious or bad curious?”

“Good. Very good.”

“Stop wagging your ass, Hoppy. Otherwise when I push my mouth in there these muscular cheeks of yours are going to give me a concussion.”

A deep rumble of a laugh erupted from his broad chest, but he stopped wagging his butt. Then, without warning, I pulled his ass open, shoved my face between his glutes and started lapping hungrily at his perfect hole.

Personally, I consider a rim job like a work of art, or more accurately, as a performance by a master craftsman. You can’t just stick your tongue on their hole and lick it like a lollipop. For one thing, a lollipop is not a hole. There’s a lot of surface to take advantage of. And you shouldn’t rush things, either, but seeing this gorgeous ass and perfect hole so invitingly displayed before me—not to mention that Hoppy’s weird sex waves were radiating from him like fallout from a nuclear explosion—my excitement and arousal got the better of me.

Normally I’d play with the hole a lot more with my fingers. Get the dude to relax, calm his anxieties, let him know that it feels good and loosen up that tightness with some gentle rubbing and nudging. But a kind of hunger overtook me and I wanted my lips and tongue on my best friend’s butt hole posthaste!

He tasted good, which I registered absently as something unusual but all it did to my actions is increase my hunger for his ass. Ass normally doesn’t taste like much of anything, unless it’s sweaty of course after a workout—one of my favorite times to dive in, because I’m a butt slut—or unless the other dude’s idea of cleanliness isn’t exactly in line with mine. But we’d both just spent nearly a half-hour in the shower cleaning each other very carefully and with attention to detail, so the sweet, tangy taste of Hoppy’s hole was a surprise.

But I was man on a mission. Eating out an ass isn’t just fun for the ass eater and the ass eaten, it lubes up the chute for when it’s time to push your dick inside and start fucking.

He started to squirm, but I didn’t stop. If anything, it urged me on. I fucking licked and slurped and spat on that virgin hole like a starving man sitting in front of a steak dinner with all the trimmings. I’ve been told I’m very good at rimming, not that it mattered to me. I wasn’t normally doing it for the other dude’s gratification, I do it because I fucking love doing it! And now I felt like a master sculptor presented with a perfect piece of marble and I was going to fucking create a masterpiece of ass eating.

I paused to pull my face out of Hoppy’s muscular buttocks to spit into my palm before I reached forward and grabbed his hard-on to stroke him as I continued pleasuring him from behind. He gasped and groaned and started shaking slightly, which wasn’t wholly unexpected. A body in ecstasy behaves in unexpected ways, sometimes.

His dick in my grip felt huge! Like I could barely get my hand around him. The room was otherwise silent, so the only sounds were my hungry lapping and moaning at his hole, the slick sliding of my hand along his cock, and Hoppy’s constant deep bear-like growls and groans of sexual bliss. Also he would occasionally moan, “Oh, fuck,” and, as odd as it sounds, every utterance of that word sent a vibrant and very palpable shock of sex through my body, like my naked skin was being splashed with hot water except the water was made of sex.

His cock was rock-hard and hot as a furnace. Obviously he was enjoying my ministrations. And before too long I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get my dick inside this man’s ass!

I pulled my hand from his cock and my mouth from his ass, slapped his right butt cheek resoundingly and ordered him to “turn over and open wide.” I sat up on my heels and looked at his broad back. The array of muscles looked like a map of a mountain range. I could see every muscle in perfect definition, and they were all bulging as if he’d just spent an hour at the gym. It was incredible.

It took a minute. I think he was in a state of sexual grace he’d never experienced before. “Huh… what?”

“Time for the main event, Hoppy, my man.”

“Turn over?”

“I want to watch your face while I fuck you. I want you to watch my face while I fuck your ass. Besides, it makes it easier to kiss your mouth when we’re chest-to-chest. With my dick in your ass, and your arms around me, holding so close because you never want me to stop.”

“I never knew there were so many rules.”

I slapped his ass again. “Turn over, man! My cock needs to be fucking you! Right now!”

“Well, you’re the boss.”

Hoppy might’ve been joking, but the idea that I was dominating this huge, beautiful, muscular giant made my cock throb and drool. His mammoth frame arched up—fuck, how could I keep forgetting how big Hoppy was now? He towered before me, and I watched in ecstasy as the muscles of his body twisted and bulged and flexed when he flopped over onto his back, his shaggy head on the pillows, and was lying there naked before me, ready for me to do whatever I wished with him.

Fuck, he looked even bigger! That chest was superhuman! Even laying on his back, each muscular globe rose up several inches. I could clearly see the bands of muscle stretching across both furry pecs, and his large, dark nipples were asking to be tortured. His face—epically handsome—had a definite shadow of a beard on his squared, masculine jaw. He pulled his hands behind his head and I watched footballs erupt on his upper arms, biceps so large that they seemed to want to contend with his head for sheer size!

I scanned down his body and every inch of it turned me on. His six-pack looked like a cobblestone lane. His foot-long cock laid in the crevasse between his abs with a fat mushroom head glistening with pre. His exposed pits, which I had spent minutes with in the shower soaping them up and licking them, were sending out a strong aroma of his intense masculine scent. He was smiling at me as his dick throbbed and arched with evident need.

I had never encountered anyone to match Hoppy’s overt sexual potency and absolute beauty. “Well,” he said, “are you ready for this?”

I couldn’t even speak for a moment as I drank him in. “I could…” I gulped and pulled in a deep, calming breath. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m ready,” he answered in his deep, powerful voice. “Fuck me.”

There was a look on Hoppy’s face I’d never seen before, either when we were mates at school or in the hour or two since we’d become reacquainted. It was not an unfamiliar look, but not one that I would have attached to Hoppy.

It was a look of deep need. A look of erotic desire. A look of intense sexual hunger. It was look that said “I not only want you to fuck me, I need you to.”

His skin was shiny with sweat. The mass of dark fur on his broad, impossibly huge chest was matted to his flesh. His nipples were erect and I ached to take them between my teeth and nibble on them like gummies. His prick was drooling a stream of precum that pooled in the deep cleavage of his abs like the Colorado River carving out the Grand Canyon. His blue eyes smoldered under his thick, dark lashes and his full, sensuous lips were curved into a slight smile.

He looked, again, like a different man. Different even than the one who walked out of the bedroom earlier and made my cock erupt with a sudden fountain of cream.

I sat on my haunches looked across the vast expanse of muscle and cock before me and my own dick was throbbing like a pendulum, hard as steel and aching to push itself inside him. He lifted his legs up and pulled them wide, like a pair of scissors opening. His fat balls were moving, like pumps. There was a name for that, some scientific term, but at the moment all I could imagine were a pair of hands slowly squeezing them as if filling them up with cum.

“Fuck me,” he instructed.

“Hoppy,” I started to say, meaning to ask what was going on. What was really going on.

But he interrupted me with those two words again. “Fuck me.” And again that struck me in the chest and the groin and the ass like being bathed in pure sex.

I leaned over his body, may hands on either side of his broad chest, and felt the tip of my cock kiss his hole as if he were a magnet and I was steel, drawn to him whether I wanted it or not. I didn’t even have to guide myself into him, or push past the tightness of his ass, or overcome a hesitancy to my intrusion.

I gasped and pinched my eyes shut as I found myself sliding inside him so easily, it was as if we were always supposed to fit together. The sensation of pleasure, of sexual bliss, was overwhelming. It surrounded my prick like a velvet glove and I was suddenly all the way inside him, my hard dick throbbing with absolute ecstasy, rubbing my leaky head against his prostate as his muscular but massaged and squeezed and pleasured me in a way that nothing ever had before.

“Fuck me.”

I began to piston my hips, drawing myself in and out of his tight, gorgeous perfection. I leaned my lips to his and he surrounded me in his strong, hard embrace and I pushed my tongue inside his mouth and he groaned deeply, holding me tight as I slowly, methodically, repeatedly fucked his ass.

“You feel so good,” he whispered to me.

I was beyond words. But I had to agree with him. Nothing had ever felt as good as this. I was convinced nothing ever would again. This was a body designed for fucking. He squeezed my dick in his perfect velvet vice and it felt like he was sucking on me with his ass. He kissed me and pulled my body to his and the heat increased between us. My cock was so hard it hurt. My balls felt like they weighed several pounds. This wasn’t just fucking, this was something beyond fucking.

I felt dizzy. Was sex supposed to feel this good? Was I even having sex before this? I’ve experienced mind-blowing, stupidly powerful orgasms before but this was better than any of those, and I wasn’t even coming yet.

But I could feel it. I could feel a load of hot, creamy cum building and building like a balloon inflating beyond its capacity. Something powerful and overwhelming and so, so, so gorgeous in its absolute erotic power was happening, and it was something between us, not just something that he or I was experiencing.

I was breathless and lost in ecstasy. “Do you… ?”

He whispered in my ear again. “Do I what?” His ass squeezed my cock like several hands, stroking and teasing me. How was he doing that? Did he even know that he was?

“Do you… want me to… cum inside you?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Please.”

“I’m close,” I told him.

“Can you keep going? You feel so good inside me.”

“I… I can try.”

His lips were pressed against mine again. His strong, muscular arms held me close against his monumental body. His scent filled my head. My whole body tingled like a cock that has been edging for hours. I wanted to come. I needed to come. My balls felt like steel weights and my cock was harder than stone.

“Can you… ?”

“I can do anything you want me to,” he whispered with that deep, throaty growl. His breath was warm on my neck.

“Can you… slow down? Whatever… whatever your ass is… oh, fuck… your ass is driving me crazy.”

He rumbled out a chuckle and I felt it all over my body. “What’s my ass doing?” His long, strong legs bent at the knees and now he was using his lower legs to push my ass towards him. Holding me in place. Pulling me in deeper.

“Oh, fuck, it feels so good.”

“What does?” I wasn’t sure if he didn’t know what his ass was doing, or if it was unusual, or if he was doing so many things at once he didn’t know which one thing I was referring to.

“Everything.”

“You really want me to stop?” His butt caressed and squeezed and sucked on my dick. His lags pulled my dick deeper inside him. His arms held me in place against his hard muscles. His voice was deep and powerful, soft and passionate. He smelled like aw sex.

“I’m gonna come,” I said.

“Come,” he told me. “I want to feel you coming inside me.” How voice was both soft and powerful. “I want to feel how you feel when you come.”

I bit my bottom lip. Was so close. It felt lie it was on the edge of exploding. I groaned and felt my asshole tighten and I started pumping my load inside him. He groaned in unison, a deep bearish rumble I could feel coming from his massive chest and reverberating in mine.

I groaned. I whimpered. I sucked air into my lungs and gasped and sighed. It was intense, like a fire I was pushing inside him. I felt myself come again and again, thick creamy fountains coating my prick in warmth and making my fucking slick and wet. I fucked him as I came and it felt like I was in heaven.

Then it was my time to shake. My body was overwhelmed with bliss and couldn’t handle the overwhelming perfection of that fuck. I settled against him, within his strong embrace, my cock buried deep in his ass, and he kissed my head and squeezed my body tightly.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, and kissed my head again. I felt so small in his embrace, and if my dick was growing softer it sure the hell didn’t feel like it. His butt continued to squeeze and caress me, almost like he wanted to milk every drop out of my balls. I wasn’t a small dude by any means, but somehow within his all-encompassing embrace, I was like a child.

One thing I did know through my sex-drenched fog of a stupor was that something both extraordinary and incredible happened with Hoppy. Sex was supposed to feel good, of course, but there was something beyond any sex I had ever experienced that happened during the preceding ten or fifteen minutes.

I was breathing hard against him. Maybe I was even still drooling cum from my prick, which tingled and throbbed and felt magnificent inside him.

“Now,” he growled, squeezing my cock with his velvet vice, “it’s my turn.”

Oh, shit.

If Hoppy was a virgin, as he claimed, I decided I needed to fuck virgins more often. “Holy fuck,” I managed to say again. What else was there to say? It was, literally, a holy fuck. I had entered the gates of heaven with him, and now I didn’t want to come back.

But, as he mentioned, now it was his turn to fuck me. We just experienced the best sex that probably any two people had ever experienced, and how was I supposed to meet that goal with a butt that didn’t do… whatever Hoppy’s butt could do?

“What’s the matter?” He asked. He seemed to recognize my deflation, both physical and emotional. “Are you still scared? You know I wouldn’t ever hurt you.” He brushed my sweaty hair with his hand. My head was resting against his mammoth chest. I could feel him breathing. My dick was still throbbing inside his ass.

“I… I don’t want to disappoint you.” I mean, honesty, right?

“How could you disappoint me? That was amazing!”

I twisted my face towards his. “I know. That’s kind of my point.”

“I don’t understand.”

I moved my head so my chin was on his nipple. I brushed some of those dark curls from his blue eyes. “It’s like… that was… otherworldly. That was beyond. That was… the most awesome sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me, too,” he said, smiling. “Then again, it’s the first sex I’ve ever had.” He squeezed my dick with his butt again. I started to think I never wanted to pull it out of him.

He slowly groaned again and I felt his body shift. Was he stretching his mammoth muscles? There was a subtle change that I could feel since he was still holding my body against his, an increase in his heat or his scent or… everything. It passed quickly as I was trying to figure out what I was feeling, then he squeezed me with his arms and his legs and his ass and kissed my forehead. “We can just stay like this if you want. I like cuddling. And I have a lot of practice.”

“What’s that mean?” I loved hearing his voice. I loved feeling his voice rumble against me.

He shrugged and looked towards the ceiling. “When you’re a littler dude like I was,” he said, though hearing him use ‘dude’ sounded weird, “you’re ‘cute’ or you’re ‘adorable’ or you’re ‘sweet.’ But you’re not hot.” I found it hard to disagree, no matter how unfair that was. Hoppy was always kind and honest and caring. He was hot on the inside, I guess. “And whenever I tried to… be with someone before, we usually ended up just cuddling. But I learned to be happy with that.”

I didn’t know what to say in response to tell him he was wrong, so I said, “Your cuddling talents are first rate,” which sounded lame even to my own ears.

He squeezed me again and I felt warm all over. “This feels nice.”

“You mean holding me like this, or having my cock still lodged in your ass?”

“Both,” he said.

“Well, I don’t want to call an end to this moment any more than you do, but if you want to fuck me you’re going to have to allow me to pull out, much as I’m also enjoying the feeling of staying together like this.”

“I’m… kind of anxious to feel what it feels like to fuck someone.”

“It feels awesome,” I told him, having just experienced exactly how awesome it can feel.

“As awesome as being fucked?”

“Totally different awesomes. Unless you’re fucking someone while someone is fucking you, but that’s a lot of organization and concentration and kind of more like a party trick than fucking.”

He snorted. “What? You’ve fucked someone while being fucked?”

“I’ve done a lot of things, Hoppy. Hardly any of which I would be embarrassed to share with you, if you really wanted to hear about what a slut I am.”

“Maybe later,” he said. I looked at his face and he was smiling. “Right now I just want to fuck you.”

He lifted his arms from my body and pulled his legs from my butt, lying prone beneath me with my dick still inside him. I shifted my hips and pulled myself down his body to begin to pull myself out, enjoying the lingering sensation of his ass gripping me along every inch. “Your ass is just fucking amazing,” I told him, amazed how good it still felt even now.

“Thanks?” he answered, amused.

His huge cock was lying across his abs almost reaching his pecs, head-spinningly thick and throbbing firmly. It reminded me what I was about to attempt, and also how much his body had been improved by whatever the fuck he’d done to himself. “Was the amazing ass part of the upgrade?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Though it was unintentional. I mean, DNA and genetics can only… ooh, god, if my ass feels as good as your dick… .”

“Thanks?” I said, mimicking his response.

I pulled free with a wet plop and looked down. My cock looked huge! Like, seriously massive. “Oh my god,” I said quietly, reaching down and grasping myself. My cock was hot and fat and firm and slick with spit and ass juice. It was like his ass had acted like a penis pump on me. It was red and hard and thick as fuck. I slid my hand along its length and a million billion sexual tingles erupted and I gasped and sucked in a sudden deep breath. “Oh my god.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fucking fantastic.” I stroked myself. “Does this look bigger to you?”

His eyebrow arched as he reached up to push his wealth of dark, curly locks from his gaze. He checked out my throbbing, glistening cock and said, “Bigger?”

“It feels… bigger.”

He reached down and accompanied my strokes with a tight squeeze. “You were always big, Hulkster.”

“Not as big as you,” I observed.

“I wasn’t going to mention that,” he said, petting his own fat anaconda.

I sat up between his splayed legs and looked at his meat again, and it made my ass pucker. “I might need a little prep for this.” I tried to grasp his dick and couldn’t even fit my hand around its girth. “Or a lot of prep.”

“We don’t have to,” he started to say.

“Yes we do. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been training my entire adult life for this. I’ve managed some pretty big dicks before, and they feel amazing.” I tilted my head, remembering a particularly large cock some random Latin dude at a go-go bar challenged me with. “I mean, after the initial… challenge.”

“What’s the challenge?”

I looked at him and then at his monster. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Oh. What does prep mean?”

“Do you remember when I was licking your butt hole?”

“I remember very well.”

“You get to return the favor. And some fingers and teasing. I would’ve brought some industrial strength lube had I known what you had in store for me.”

“Lube?”

I laughed. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Most gay men have a favorite lube. It just makes all the butt stuff easier. Though a lot of guys just prefer spit.” I gauged his meat again. “This calls for some serious lube.”

“Can I rim you anyway?”

“That’s like a question I never expected anyone to ask me.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes, Hoppy, I would be pleased if you licked my ass. Is… never mind.”

“Is what?”

“Is your tongue upgraded as well?”

His face looked confused and then he opened his mouth and pushed out the largest tongue I had ever encountered. It was long and it was thick and it was wet. “Holy fuck, Hoppy!”

“Whud?” He said around his snake-like appendage.

“You’re tongue hung!”

He tried looking down at his tongue and nearly licked his eyes like some fucking chameleon. “I ab?”

“Fucking hell, Hoppy! You could tongue-fuck me and that’d almost be the biggest dick I ever managed!”

“Id would?” He was spinning his huge tongue in circles and wagging it and making it do all sorts of things a dick could never managed. He practically had a wet, prehensile cock inside his mouth!

“I think if you’re armed with that tool, we won’t need the lube. You could slick up my butt all the way to my throat!” My heart was racing at the mere thought of him using that on my hole. “Where was that tongue when we were kissing?”

He pulled it back between his teeth and shrugged. “I dunno, it never occurred to me that it was larger than average.”

“It’s not only larger than average, it’s larger than larger than average, and I mean that as a compliment. Fucking hell, Hoppy, you could probably wrap that around my dick and jerk me off hands free until I start pumping cum against your tonsils which are probably also perfect!”

He smiled and licked his lips. “You want to try?”

“One sexual fantasy at a time, my friend. First let’s find out how good you are at eating an ass—primarily mine, and primarily ASAP.”

“Assume the position,” he said deeply.

“Which one?” I asked. “On my back or doggy style?”

He sat up on his elbows. It was erotic how much his body’s musculature flexed and bulged with even the slightest movement. “Which do you prefer?”

“Well, doggy style you’re behind me so I can’t watch you easily, but you have complete access to everything and full control because using my hands is more difficult. If you’re into master and servant fantasies, doggy style is preferred. But, if I’m on my back then still you get full access to everything, with my dick in your face and your tongue in my ass, and I get to watch you slurp at my hole while I jerk off.”

“Decisions, decisions,” he responded. “I think I want to watch your face while I eat your ass.”

“I always said you were a genius, Hoppy.”

My generously proportioned friend grinned at me. “You did?”

“Well, if I said it to you, it might have made your head swell as big as your cock is now.” He was leaning forward and I was moving onto my back. The huge bed lurched and complained with audible creaks as his giant bulk repositioned for optimal access to my ass. I scanned his body as he moved, watching his thick and beautiful developed muscles move and flex beneath his flawless skin. Maybe it was the bed or maybe it was just Hoppy, who never had an athletic bone in his body, but he moved a bit strangely and awkwardly, as if wearing a costume that was too big for him.

If Hoppy’s ass had been upgraded, I was more than a little curious about his cock. Is that why it slid down my throat with seeming effortlessness? Maybe his pre was like some sort of numbing agent that prevented me from gagging on it, but if it was why could I feel every inch of it so intensely? It had felt as if we fit together somehow, as if his cock down my throat was meant to be.

Maybe his cock in my ass would be equally surprising, and suddenly I was anxious and excited by the prospect. I smiled and felt very excited suddenly, hopping on the mattress and landing with my ass towards his dripping prick.

He paused as he considered my well-trained and well-used hole. “Any advice?”

“I’ve always found that if you start slowly and build up to a crescendo, the audience will be very pleased.”

I fell onto my back, pulled my bent legs towards me and held them with my hands under my knees, presenting myself for his pleasure. He bent farther forward, pushing his face towards the mattress and my anxious pucker. His shoulders were like hard mounds of steel, and I rested my legs against them which lifted my ass towards his face. He licked his full, wet lips and observed, “I’ve never considered an anus to be a particularly attractive part of the male anatomy, but you’re starting to change my opinion on the matter.”

Then I felt something warm and wet apply itself to my butt. His eyes were locked on mine but his tongue was so long that he could reach it all the way to my hole. It was a barely-there registration of his first tentative touch, the feeling of the tip of his tongue testing the taste of my hole. “Uh huh,” I urged. “That’s a good start.” I could feel the semi-firm tip of his tongue rubbing against my tenderness, like a warm, wet finger.

His hands moved up the sides of my body and he rested his palms on my chest, moving his thumbs to my nipples and rubbing me the extremely right way. I sighed and groaned and my dick throbbed hard, rubbing itself against his face. He moved over slightly and now he was, somewhat miraculously, simultaneously licking my balls, taint, and hole all at the same time. I’m not sure if that was his intention, but it felt fucking amazing.

I was squirming and groaning in absolute lust, hardly able to suck in a breath when Hoppy’s face suddenly disappeared, his strong arms hoisted my whole body up, and I felt like someone was shoving an eel inside my hole.

It was warm and wet and thick and long. It pushed inside me and licked my prostate, then it went in deeper. And deeper. Hoppy was tongue fucking me and I gasped and shook from the intense pleasure he was delivering.

I guess I was shaking and heaving so violently that he thought something was wrong and he pulled that miraculous and talented tongue out of me and his face poked up next to my throbbing cock. “You okay?”

“Holy fuck,” I whimpered. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.”

“So… I should continue?”

“You need to work on your dirty talk.”

He rubbed his thumbs on my nipples as he growled, “So I should… fucking continue?”

I pushed my hand on his head and shoved his face back down, indicating that fuck yes, you should fucking continue holy fuck! His tongue nudged at my returned tightness, a hot wet lick that rubbed against me with growing urgency until I allowed him inside again and he shoved that pliable snake as deep as he could.

I didn’t even care if he ever fucked me as long as his talented tongue stayed right where it was. I had never felt anything like it. Previous rim jobs were like laughable jokes regardless of how hungry for my ass those men had been. This was Olympic-level rimming. This was the rim job of the gods. This was epic and my eyes rolled back in my head and I spasmed with absolute, unequivocal, unmitigated, overwhelming sexual bliss. My whole body shook with perfect pleasure as he treated my ass like a yogurt cup from whose deep bottom he intended to suck every drop of sticky sweetness.

Hoppy took my loss of control—moaning and squirming and making noises not yet heard to come from a grown man—as a sign that he was doing it right, evidently, because he seemed to redouble his efforts and the sound of his sloppy, wet, powerful tongue fucking my ass sounded like someone eating an entire ice cream sundae in one gulp.

I was losing my fucking mind to the intense pleasure he was delivering when there was a polite knock on his penthouse door and he paused in his wet and wonderful butt ministrations and his sweaty, shaggy head appeared between my legs as he looked towards the sound and said, “Oh, shoot.”

I was breathing hard, gasping for air, so I couldn’t laugh at the situation but I wanted to. Saying “shoot” instead of “shit” was just so… Hoppy. He rubbed my nips and looked at me. “I think that’s room service.”

I was literally gasping for air as my hands gripped the sheets just to hang on to something. “It’s… it’s… .”

“I ordered something for us to share earlier. Of course, I hadn’t considered that we might be otherwise engaged.”

“Room… .”

“I should get that. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Then he seemed to consider something and he glanced down at my spit-drenched ass and said, “Obviously.”

“Eat… .”

“Yes, we’re going to eat now. I need to eat. This larger body demands a lot of intake.” He looked at me and his handsome head tilted. “Are you okay? You look a little weird.”

I supposed that being plunged into a warm pool of Hoppy’s pure sexual pleasure high might make anyone look weird. But I tried to collect myself and I nodded my head, still living through the sensation of this man’s intense and overwhelming attention that he’d been paying to my ass. “I’m a bit… . Overwhelmed.”

He smiled. My dick throbbed. “In a good way?” I nodded. “Excellent.” Then he was crawling off the bed and went into the bathroom, reemerging a moment later tying a robe that was way too small for his height and muscular bulk, not to mention that his foot-long cock was standing tall and proud against his six-pack. The robe barely reached his knees and his furry, muscular chest was so thick and wide I doubted he could contain it at all.

He struggled for a moment to try to fit everything about himself inside that white terrycloth garment, continuously tucking one thing in which made another thing stick out, when the knock at the door returned and he sort of shrugged, tied the robe’s belt so that it strapped his hard-on against his body and left the bedroom, calling “One second!” as he left me naked and gasping on the bed.

I just decided to lay there like a sack of well-lubricated potatoes. I was worn out already and he hadn’t even touched his dick to my ass, yet! I heard some muffled voices and wondered what the hell the bellboy might be thinking as he delivered his tray of food to this sweaty, giant, muscular, well-hung mostly naked stud who smelled like sex and looked like he’d just been eating out another dude’s ass for fifteen minutes.

On the other hand, I’m sure he’d seen better and worse over the years.

Hoppy returned with a curious look on his face. “That was odd.”

By now I had regained a modicum of composure and tilted my head to look at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I offered him a tip and he was just staring at me with his mouth open and didn’t say a word.”

“Your dick is showing.”

“What?”

I turned over and pointed at his chest. “Your dick is showing.”

Hoppy’s robe had worked itself open and his erect cock, pink and shiny and leaking a steady stream of pre, was throbbing with intense need. The head nearly reached the lower edge of his ponderous pectoral globes and was pumping a glaze of honey into his thick carpet of dark man fur. It was sexy as holy fuck. “Oh,” he said.

“Might have distracted him,” I suggested.

“You think so?” He laughed and shook his head slightly. “Well, anyway, there’s food out there if you’re hungry. I have to eat, this body craves a rather large amount of protein and calories daily.”

“I would imagine so,” I said. “That dick alone probably requires a whole salami.”

Hoppy looked at me and replied, “Salami is too full of fat and processed meats to be of use. And a healthy penis depends more on blood flow and testosterone, not to mention some potassium for libido and caffeine for… you were joking, weren’t you?”

“Not very successfully, obviously.”

We sat down to eat—I pulled on some light cotton workout pants he had and an XXL white t-shirt that fit more like a mini dress—and watched him devour a huge plate of mostly vegetables, which I found interesting, thinking all those huge muscles probably wanted chicken or some other low-fat meat protein. As I watched him and considered the young man I remembered who looked nothing like this, I started to ask, “When… ?” But I stopped.

He paused in his eating, “When what?”

“When… did all this happen?”

“When did I get big?” He pushed his fork into a spinach salad with walnuts and beets.

“Big, strong, more handsome, more… everything. I mean, how did… ?”

“Simplest answer is I cheated.”

“You cheated.”

He nodded his shaggy, handsome head. “I didn’t go to the gym. I mean, not initially. I have a new home gym now—state of the art—and I discovered why you love it so much. It feels… .”

“Powerful.”

“Exactly.” He pushed his fork into a salad of beets and walnuts. “Feeling your muscles surge and sting with strength. Seeing how far you can push it, how strong you are, how strong you’re becoming. Seeing gains in the mirror, feeling them in the shower. It’s all quite sensual.” He lifted the fork to his sensual mouth and ate some salad gustily.

“I didn’t intend… all this.” He looked down at his incredible body. His chest was fully exposed, having shoved its bulk out of the small robe, and his dark, large nipples looked like they wanted my teeth on them. Though his massive dick had managed to calm down there was a thick glaze of precum glistening on the dark curls that wound through his abs. And he still smelled very distinctly of raw fucking. “It was sort of an accident, but once I breached those limits, I found that I wanted to keep going and see how far I could take it.”

“And what is ‘it,’ exactly?” I drank some coffee.

“To put it simply—human evolution.”

“Okay. Well. What?”

He chuckled. “Evolution is a process that… .”

“I know what evolution is, Hoppy. I remember a few things from high school.”

“Human evolution is at an end,” he said, setting down his fork and tenderly wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. I watched his thick biceps swell inside the robe’s tight sleeves and I swear I hear tearing sounds. He’d mostly cleaned out the entire collection of food, anyway. “We are no longer changing to survive the environment because we are adapting our environment to us. A giraffe has a long neck so that it can reach the highest leaves for itself and survive when everyone else is down on the bottom of the tree trying to get scraps. The ocean iguana survives because it learned to dive and hold its breath to get the food in the water when food on the land was scarce.”

I tilted my head and smirked at him. He understood my expression.

Brushing his free hand through his wealth of hair and pushing it back from his erection-causing features, he nodded and sat back in his seat, his voice and gestures becoming more animated. As he moved, the robe slowly lost its battle to keep him inside it. It was shrugging off of his wide, muscled shoulders and falling away from his thick, broad pectoral globes. “Okay, okay. So, evolution is a natural process that normally takes a long time. A very, very long time. Accidents of genetics create an abnormality that turns out to be beneficial. The abnormality survives because its host survives because of the abnormality. A kind of vicious cycle.

“I theorized that evolution and those evolutionary genetic anomalies were the keys to my own goals. If I could… adapt the genome to start producing adaptive, positive evolutionary changes, much smaller in impact but much, much faster than normal, then I could alter my genetic make-up in a positive, beneficial manner.”

“Sure. Anyone else would do that,” I said sarcastically. Playing with the building blocks of the human animal by accelerating positive evolutionary change? Sure, why not?

If he recognized my doubt and sarcasm, he chose to ignore it. “The real challenge was making the updates positive rather than negative. When you start playing with genetics, you can do some serious damage—another reason I used myself as the guinea pig for my theories and trials.”

“Uh huh.” This seemed insane, except for the fact that I was witness to the actual outcome sitting right in front of me in all its mind-bending, hard-on making glory.

“My second area of investigation involved the nature of sleep.”

“Sleep?” I sipped my coffee again, trying to hide the fact that I was only half-listening to Hoppy’s explanation because I was so distracted by his face and body. It looked like the deep crevasse between his pecs was growing deeper as he spoke.

“Humans need sleep for a huge number of reasons, some of which we only partially understand and some we only assume. But one thing we know for certain is that a great deal of a human body’s growth and repair takes place when we’re asleep. Muscle rebuilds itself when we sleep, for example, and our brain can work out the problems we couldn’t understand when awake with all the daily distractions and calls for attention. I wondered—I theorized—that if I could take advantage of sleep’s many tools for fixing and upgrading the body in a more… proactive manner, I could accelerate the positive changes I was starting to create.”

“Uh huh,” I answered, slightly feeling those waking distractions watching Hoppy’s chest rise and fall as he breathed, and the way his nipples pointed towards his crotch like a suggestion.

“Long story short, I managed to simultaneously overcome human evolution’s stagnation and take advantage of the human body’s restful state and… .” He smiled and rose from his chair, pulling that small, sad robe from his magnificence and lifting his arms to shove all his muscles into brain-sizzling relief. I watched his biceps climb and bulge, the head splitting into its distinct lobes, and as he opened his sweaty pits to me a sudden, thick, invisible fog of his intensely erotic scent stung my nostrils and made my cock painfully hard. His eight-inch cock, now limp and its head once more cowled in a tight foreskin collar, was still thick and long and lickable, hanging heavily over two fat balls swollen with cum.

I could hardly think. My brain was being bathed in sex waves emanating from the gorgeous naked man before me and all my attention zeroed in on the sensation of my cock pulsing and my balls buzzing and my butt hole twitching. “But I don’t… .” I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes to gather my thoughts. “I don’t understand why evolution and sleep resulted in… you.”

He relaxed his insane muscular perfection and sat again. “Ah. Well, while I considered the effects of positive evolution on the human genome, I didn’t fully understand what that would mean in a modern context. Having unlocked beneficial genetic analogies in my own cellular principal, what form would those alterations take? What was necessary for a modern human to survive? And what did surviving entail?”

I summed it up for him, based on the evidence before me. “Apparently it entailed growing muscle like a son of a bitch and growing a dick that could choke a horse and developing an ass so perfect that it feels like it’s sucking your cock like a professional. That would be my take.”

He laughed warmly. “I was as surprised as you are now! I’m still surprised!” He looked down at his naked body and started moving his large hands all over himself. “I presumed I would get taller, possibly more muscular, lose some body fat, just generally get a lot healthier. And that certainly happened, but the… extent of the changes, and the speed at which they’re occurring, are both shocking.”

“I know the feeling.” Then my brain seemed to clear the sex fog. “Wait. ‘At which they’re occurring’? They’re still occurring? You’re not, like, fully cooked?”

His blue eyes flickered up to mine and it looked for a moment as if I had caught him in something he hadn’t intended to reveal. “It would seem I am not.”

“You’re still changing.”

“I’m still… improving.”

“More than this?” He already looked perfect to my eyes.

He merely shrugged. “Once the floodgates are opened, a flood is the next natural occurrence.”

“You’re going to get bigger?”

“I’m never quite sure what the next evolutionary progression will deliver.”

“The next?”

He poured himself a large glass of water and drank deeply. Even watching his Adam’s Apple bob was a sensual experience. “Evolution is a constant process. Though the greatest—the most noticeable—changes occur while I sleep. The joke that goes ‘I woke up like this’? It is literally true in my case. And often the changes are things I am not even aware of, but they have been universally positive.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you’re telling me my anus and rectum are performing in an unusual manner. But perhaps the added ability to cause additional sexual pleasure with my… butt… has additional favorable aspects to my biological success that I am presently unaware of. I certainly never intended or expected that, but perhaps it’s all part of the eventual progression.”

“Towards what?”

“Perfection?” My brain was spinning again, except not with Hoppy’s erotic fragrance. “Not literal perfection, of course. Such a thing doesn’t exist.”

“But you’re approaching human perfection.”

“Maybe flawlessness is a more exact term.”

“Holy shit, Hoppy!”

He shrugged again, moving his mountainous shoulders so his massive deltoids nearly kissed his earlobes. “What I’ve unlocked in myself is now unstoppable and progressive. My body has become attuned to my emotional and physical pleasure as a measurement of evolutionary progression.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said softly, looking at him. “Does it… hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“Your ‘evolutionary progression’.”

He narrowed his eyes. “It did at first, but it doesn’t anymore. It feels good, as a matter of fact.”

“You’re aware of it happening?”

He licked his upper lip as he looked at me. “It’s always happening. I’m always being refined in small ways. And some… not so small ways.” He did something, which I assume involved flexing his cock, and the whole table lifted slightly before it settled again with a clanging retort. “But the largest physical changes occur during sleep, as I said.”

“And what determines… ?”

He was now absently playing with one nipple. The sense of his arousal—the scent or sensation or whatever it was—grew stronger. “As I said, my body seems attuned to pleasure as a powerful motivator, as one might expect. Fear or sadness—emotional states that don’t act as signs of favorable, life enhancing improvement—wouldn’t be positive agents of change, but pleasure, satisfaction, gratification, fulfillment… those are all signs of positive progression.”

“So you have a bigger dick because… .”

“Because I derive more pleasure from it. My testes can produce more ejaculate and semen so I can ejaculate more often and more copiously, experiencing more joy and satisfaction. My body grew taller and more muscular because I derive pleasure from its capabilities and appearance, as do others… apparently.” He looked pointedly at my lower torso. My newly-engaged erection had slipped under my shirt and was throbbing dully as I leaked pre in a growing wet stain.

I said, “I can attest strongly to that as a measurement of my pleasure, but I’m not certain about yours.” I licked my lips. “And is it… catching?”

“Oh, no. This process is highly personalized to the individual’s genome and incredibly expensive to set-up and perform. If I were not a billionaire… .”

“And a genius,” I added.

“None of this would have been possible.”

My cock throbbed hard as I looked at his naked perfection. But a thought occurred to me. “There have to be downsides, though, right?”

“Why do you imagine that?”

“Life never works like this. You never get something for nothing.”

“Well, I certainly draw attention now that I didn’t before. I’ve always been a shy and solitary creature, but it’s rather hard to walk through an airport when you’re over six-and-a-half feet tall and built like an NFL linebacker and not draw attention. And initially it was… quite painful.”

I thought about the times I overdid it at the gym and tried to imagine what that felt like magnified to Hoppy’s extent. “I imagine it hurt like a motherfucker.”

“Colorful, but accurate. The physical changes were happening slowly at first, but as I understood them more and altered the process to accelerate the positive alterations, the changes became drastic and sudden. During one session, I gained four inches in height overnight, the result on my skeletal structure and overall physical state was… quite stressful.”

“I was wondering about that, actually.”

“Which part?”

“Skeletal structure. Aren’t bones kind of… hard?”

“As I mentioned, this is like a second puberty, or perhaps it’s like permanent puberty. In youth, your bones are growing fairly rapidly, though not obviously so quickly that you can manage a four-inch height gain in a single night. But everything about this body is altering to better suit its ongoing development and improvement, bones included.”

“So it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

He nodded. “My body’s development is aimed at feeling better and growing continually towards perfection. The pain was somehow diminished, and then eliminated, and then replaced with pleasure. It feels amazing to get bigger, now. I suppose the chemical processes in my brain are pumped with pleasure to mitigate whatever my physical body is feeling.”

“But… you still feel pain, right? Pain is necessary. It warns you when something is wrong.”

“I still feel pain. But the process itself no longer causes it. And after some dietary adjustments, the progress was vastly increased. What I put into my body provides a direct result to how it develops. My food intake is probably a lot higher than yours, but my body processes it incredibly quickly and effectively.”

“The better the fuel, the faster the engine.”

“Precisely. I have a computer program that provides the number of grams of whatever essential proteins and fat and nutrients are needed to result in the most potential for development. I just plug in what I want and it tells me what I need.”

“So, now you’re even directing your own evolution!”

“Partially. But what the waking mind craves and the resting mind creates aren’t always the same thing. So I can direct the actors, so to speak, but their performance is still their own. All aimed at that ultimate target of human perfection.”

“This is… incredible.”

“Thank you. I’m also rather impressed with myself.”

We looked at each other in relative silence, both highly aroused despite—or because of—Hoppy’s longwinded explanation of his transformation.

“I feel like I’ve forgotten something,” he said, his voice like a bear’s growl.

I said, “You were going to fuck me.”

“Ah, yes. But I feel like we need to start over having been interrupted by our meal, don’t you think?”

“You just like licking my ass,” I accused.

“Guilty as charged,” he agreed. He stood up again, a towering mountain of muscle and fur and cock and balls. “What… else do you like?”

“What else?”

“I’m… not very well educated in coital matters.”

I laughed slightly, thinking that this epitome of male beauty and seemingly unlimited sexual potential was asking me what I liked. “Oh?” I said, trying to seem composed even as my heart was racing and my dick was drooling all over the fucking place.

“I mean,” he said, lifting his large right hand to cup his left pec, his thumb plucking and rubbing his fat nipple, “I’ve watched some videos.”

“Of course,” I agreed. Who hasn’t watched porn?

“You know, when masturbating.”

“Sure.”

“Alone.”

“Uh huh.”

“With my penis in my hands.”

“Sure.”

“And when I say hands, that’s because… .”

“You’re so big.”

“I am,” he agreed.

“And what did these videos portray, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t mind,” he growled. His cock was now fully hard again, and throbbing with intense beats against his belly. He continued to play with his nipple as his other hand wound itself around the fat shaft of his cock and squeezed. A thick delivery of clear honey swelled at the tender lips of his cock head, gathering into a fat drop that swelled larger and larger until its weight led it to drool down the length of his prick. “It was a variety of sexual acts.”

“Sure. For educational purposes.”

“Exactly,” he said, starting to slowly—achingly slowly—stroke himself accompanied by the slick sound of his hand moving along the precum-lubricated surface of his steel-hard shaft. “Some of it was solo, just one man, enjoying his own body.”

“I see.”

“Caressing himself, stroking himself, allowing his touch to wander everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

He nodded. “Some were couples.”

“Two men?” He nodded. “No women?” He shook his head. “A pity. Women are extremely sensual and you might have learned some very valuable lessons.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip.

“And what else?” I asked.

His eyes stayed closed as he stroked. He started moving his hips and pushing his cock through his grip. He took some deep breaths and spoke very quietly. “Fucking.”

The word held power again. That unusual sexual power that sometimes struck me like hot wind against my naked skin. I started to take my shirt off. “Did you enjoy watching it?”

He nodded. The room was becoming warmer, almost as if that huge shower was again pumping steam around us, but there was no steam. “What did you enjoy?”

“The look of ecstasy on his face.”

“Whose face?”

“The man getting… fucked.” He said it with determination and lust.

“That turned you on?” Another silent nod. “What about it turned you on?”

“That the other man…”

“The fucker.”

“That the fucker could do that to his partner. Deliver such… intense pleasure. To make you feel so good that you can hardly stand it.”

“To make me feel so good?” Nod. “To watch my face as you fuck me, and see the effect you have on me?”

“Yes,” he moaned. He looked like he was ready to cum on the spot. His cock glistened with pre and his whole body was now writhing and stretching with obvious sexual power. “I want to fuck you and watch you. I want to watch you feel me inside you.”

“I want that too.” I stood up and slipped my pants off. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you on top of me, your power and your muscles. I want to feel you huge you are, how thick and massive those muscles are, and how huge your cock feels inside me. I want to kiss you when you fuck me, feel your long, luscious tongue inside my mouth, shoving down my throat like your fat, amazing dick. I want you to ride my ass until I’m shaking with lust and desire. I want to feel you swell and throb inside me and feel you pump thick, warm fountains of cum over and over and over.”

His eyes opened and he gasped. “I…” was all he said. My words were having an effect. His imagination kicked into gear and he was groaning and gasping and his body seemed to spasm as he approached orgasm.

I pushed him hard. I was good with words. “Your thick, gorgeous, rock-hard prick sliding inside my tight, warm hole. You can feel your balls growing heavy with a monster load of cum. You whole body throbs and tingled with anticipation.”

He gasped quickly twice, sucking in air. His massive chest bulged. “I’m gonna… .”

“And then you can feel it. You can feel it like electricity. You have to cum. You can’t stop it. It’s too powerful. You want it too strongly. Every muscle tenses and flexes with power and your cock swells and your asshole throbs and you can feel it, you can’t stop it, you’re going to explode.”

He let out a groan so deep and thick that it seemed to come from everywhere. He whispered something that I couldn’t make out. Something like “It’s happening.” I watched every muscle on his huge, titanic frame swell against his skin until every fiber of strength was visible. Veins popped on his arms and legs and pelvis. He ground his teeth together and pinched his eyes and pulled his hand from his fat, long, throbbing cock, practically spitting out strings of precum.

Hoppy threw back his head, stretched out his arms, emitted an impossibly deep series of groans from his massive chest, and I watched Hoppy’s massive muscular form bulging with fresh muscular growth before my eyes.

It happened in sudden bursts, as if he had to gather his strength or determination or something. He gasped deeply, there was a silent pause, then he groaned and I watched his body swelling in a series of erotic bulging pulses.

It was noticeable this time. If I had been imagining his slow, constant growth before, now there was no imagination necessary. I could see him growing muscle standing before me in his hotel penthouse.

A gasp, silence, a groan, and he was bigger. His arms, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his lats, his belts, his thighs, his calves, everything would just swell like he was flexing, but it didn’t return to its previous state. And the look on his face and the throbbing of his cock suggested he was in some sort of sexual ecstasy and it was happening to him.

It happened a half dozen times, and then he grasped himself again in his hands, one over the other on his towering beast, and he jerked his hips and shoved out several thick fountains of cum that splattered across his neck and chest and belly. He groaned with obvious rapture as his prick shot out his ponderous and thick load again and again.

And then, at the end, after a pause where he seemed to be gathering himself for something big or conclusive, he grasped himself so hard that his cock turned red and he shot a massive, final delivery that wasn’t just a pump of cum, but a stream. And accompanying that massive orgasmic blast, his whole muscular body swelled one last time as he groaned in absolute sexual gratification.

I was speechless as I watched. Nothing could have prepared me for what was happening to Hoppy, no matter how scientific his explanations were. I just watched a man develop fresh muscle all over his body while simultaneously experiencing what was quite possibly the most powerful and sexual orgasmic experience I had ever seen. It was as if one had fed the other, though I wasn’t sure if his muscles made his dick explode or vice versa.

He was still breathing hard, coated in cum that dripped from his thick curls of fur and ran in rivers through the valleys of his abs. He was shiny with sweat from the evident exertion of the act. When he opened his eyes and looked down at me again, as our eyes met each other, an overwhelming shock of pure sex pushed itself into my brain and my cock bulged and lengthened with shocking suddenness.

I found myself, seated before him, experiencing something like he had just experienced—an orgasm of profound and enormous depth that I was powerless to resist.

I pushed my own sudden and unexpected fountains of cream over my own body, grinding my teeth hard against the massive rush of absolute bliss. I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands and squeezed tears from my eyes. I couldn’t speak or form a coherent sentence if my life depended on it. All I could do was come.

Hoppy stood there in his newer body, covered in sweat and cum, and watched my reaction with interest and a bit of concern. Evidently no one had ever witnessed this, so no one had ever reacted to it, either.

I came at least a dozen pumps of cum and my balls ached and my cock throbbed and I could hardly breathe. Once the experience had subsided and I had some semblance of rational thought back, I shook my head and said, “Holy fucking fuck.”

“Sorry,” Hoppy said softly.

I looked up at him. He was magnificent. More magnificent. “Sorry?” I said. “For giving me the most intense sexual experience I have ever… experienced?” Even his face looked better. More masculine. More alluring. His jaw looked stronger or his nose looked more noble or maybe his brow was heavier, more masculine and powerful looking. Were his lips… more kissable? Soft and full and voluptuous. It wasn’t one thing but it was everything. Even his eyes looked more blue to me. But maybe that was just post-orgasmic bliss.

“Was it?”

“Fuck, yeah, it was! Holy fucking fuck!”

He looked down at himself, holding his arms out, moving his hands across the new thicker and broader contours of his chest, digging his fingers into the dark, furry, cum-sticky carpet of fur that grew so perfectly along his pacs. He squeezed his upper arms, his hands explored his more defined six-pack—or was it now an eight-pack?—moving his thin, perfect skin over the muscle curiously, and sighed. “Darn it,” he said as he flexed and tightened his newly grown biceps. They looked like footballs attached to his arms.

“What could possibly be the matter?”

“Now my clothes won’t fit again.” I almost laughed that his top concern was how he was going to dress his incredibly gorgeous body. “I wonder if they make dress shirts in stretch material?”

Now I did laugh, because I couldn’t help myself. “You just grew new muscle and you’re worried about your dress shirts?”

His instant-dick-inflator of a ridiculously handsome face looked honestly worried. “Do you think this hotel has a tailor?” Jesus, I think he voice was deeper, too.

“Hoppy. Dude. What just happened?”

“Oh! I grew again.”

“I know that part. The ‘why’ is what has me stumped.”

He started slowly exploring his newly developed muscle with a scientist’s idiosyncratic inquisitiveness. I’m certain he didn’t mean it, but every movement of his body was orgasm-inducing. There was an overt sensualness to him and his movements, whether that was intentional for my benefit or just the way this body performed I didn’t know and likely neither did Hoppy. As he moved his large hands around his body, testing the hardness of his muscle, squeezing and caressing and exploring, it was like watching someone actively seducing you with expert finesse, showing off exactly how beautiful they were, and letting you know that you could have them very easily.

“An orgasm is a powerful thing. Emotionally, physically, mentally, everything is involved.” His palms moved across his belly. “It’s maybe the most powerful act your body experiences.” He dug his fingers through the warm, sloppy wetness of his cum—and precum-soaked pubes. “So, logically, a powerful orgasm is going to have powerful consequences on one’s state of being. In my case… .” He brought up his arms and tensed them into full-blown awesome power. He looked at his biceps as he made them swell, admiring himself with obvious lust. His exposed armpits were pumping out his very pungent and erotic funk, bathing my senses in his strongly arousing redolence, like I was diving headfirst into an ocean of cum.

My dick was still throbbing from my surprise explosion. I was sticky and warm and covered in spunk. But as I watched Hoppy put on a little muscular display for me, pumping out that masculine fragrance and showing off how much bigger he had become, my libido was shaking at its cage all over again. When he turned around and I saw his new and improved ass—which, again, was perfect to begin with—I think I gasped or yelped or made some kind of animal noise. It was practically glowing with invitation. Two muscular mounds made for hard fucking, and to be deeply fucked. “And does this… happen often?”

His hands were caressing the smooth, powerful contours of his round, gorgeous butt. “It used to happen all the time, after my first growth experiences.” Then he looked up at me and said, “But it tapered off, so I think I can blame you for this one.”

“I’ll accept the blame happily.” I tilted my head. “But, like, I never even touched you.”

“You have… a way with words.”

“How much bigger do you think you are? And does it always happen like that?”

“Like what?”

“It looked like you grew bigger with every ejaculation. Every time you came, you swelled with muscle. Like, uuuhhhh, bulge. Uuuuhhhh, bulge. Uuuuuhhhhh! Fucking bulge!”

“You mean, more like… .” He mimicked my comical retelling but in his deep, powerful bass timbre. He groaned in his throat and then—flexed! Groooooan, flex! Grooooooooaaaaaaannnnnn. Holy fuck! “I think so, but when I’m experiencing that, it’s hard to concentrate on anything. But it feels like it.”

I gasped in some air to calm my libido. “What does it feel like?”

He closed his eyes and started flexing his muscles again. Not like before, with sudden hard plumping, but slowly. Sensually. Almost like a dance. God he was beautiful. “Intense. Powerful. Overwhelming.” His cock was throbbing and starting to plump again. He did mention that his ejaculate and semen production was also abnormally high. Could he have just exploded so hard he painted the ceiling—and be ready to go again so quickly?

I was watching his arousal manifest and asked, “So… what’s going to happen when you fuck me?”

His jewel-like eyes flicked open. “You still want to… ?” He blushed! He actually blushed! Like, his whole fucking magnificent muscular body blushed! It was fucking sexy. “Anything could happen,” Hoppy said.

“Like… bigger?” He nodded. “Everywhere?” He nodded again. “While you’re fucking me?”

He shrugged this time. “I’ve never… done that. So I don’t know what could happen, exactly.”

“But anything could.”

He looked chagrined. “I think so.” He swallowed hard. “I’m… very aroused.”

“The feeling is mutual.” I stood up and circled the table towards him. Every step in his direction made my skin grow warmer, and my mouth go dryer, and my dick get harder. “So, theoretically, you could be fucking me, and while you’re fucking me, your fuckpole,” I grabbed him around his shaft. Damn, maybe it was already bigger! “… could get even bigger… while you’re fucking me.”

“Theoretically,” he agreed.

I stoked him, just once, very slowly. “But, you explained that this happened when you sleep.”

“It… also happens when I sleep.” He kept his gaze on my face the whole time. “And sometimes when I’m aroused.”

“And sometimes when you orgasm.”

“Sometimes,” he said softly, as if embarrassed.

I leaned towards him. “And you can’t control it.”

He gulped. “Not… completely. At least, not so far.”

“So you’ve tried to.”

He nodded. “I was… kind of concerned my penis was getting too large to be practical.”

I glanced down at the thick abundance and head-spinning length I held in my grip, allowing a thick string of spit to drool from my lips onto the head of his prick as I continued to coax him towards full power again. “Sure, anyone would worry about that.”

“You said yourself you wondered if I was too big for you.”

I hadn’t said that in so many words, but I certainly implied it—though I found myself regretting it now. But who could have predicted that before the day was finished, I’d be having a discussion with a guy whose foot-long erection might swell inches bigger while he was fucking my ass? My gaze was still locked on that fat, juicy beauty of a perfect prick. I used his foreskin to wet the head go his cock with my spit, and I licked my lips. “I’m willing to try. More than willing. Anxious even.”

“You’re sure?” I felt him throb hard in my hand, like a test, selling against my grip, forcing my fingers apart.

“I’m positive,” I answered. Then I rose on my tiptoes, put my free hand behind his thicker, more powerful neck, and pressed my lips to his. “Fuck me, baby,” I whispered, and kissed him again. “Fuck me hard.”

The always practical Hoppy said, “We should shower.”

He started pulling away to head towards the bathroom to wash himself of all the copious cum he’d sprayed all over his swelling muscles but I continued grasping his dick, pulling him back towards me. “It’s hotter this way.”

He looked dubious. “And stickier.”

“I want to smell you,” I said. “I want to taste you. Raw. From all over your body. Every inch of you. With my tongue.” Well, I did have a way with words.

“Before we get started, should we have a safe word?”

“A safe word?” Was my old high school best friend a nasty S&M fucker under all that polite formalism? It’s always the quiet ones, I mused. My cock swelled imagining this muscular body sheathed in leather. Talk about a real live Tom of Finland wet dream. Holy fuck.

“Isn’t that what it’s called?” Even a face that handsome couldn’t disguise a dirty mind with feigned innocence. Or maybe particularly a face that handsome? This man could walk into any sex venue in any city at any time of the day or night and ask for anything he wanted and get it with head-spinning immediacy. They’d be lining up on their knees to service him.

Not that they’d need to be on their knees if he kept growing.

“Exactly what kind of porn have you been stroking to, Hoppy?” I squeezed him playfully and tugged on his dick, making his body jerk towards me. I was the one in charge, now.

And he liked it! He was smiling with a look of arousal so plain that it might as well be on a condom wrapper. “Just… the usual kind. Of porn.”

“Uh huh,” I said. I couldn’t help smiling thinking of my pal Hoppy stroking his cock in his lab sitting naked in front of some huge set of wall-sized monitors displaying a variety of kinks for, you know, investigative purposes. “What’s usual, in your porn world?”

He shrugged and blushed. “ I dunno,” he answered. “Just… stuff.”

“Leather?” He nodded. “Piss play?” His lips pursed, and then he nodded. “Frottage?”

“What’s frontage?”

“Some dudes get off on holding their dicks together and feeling them swell.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“Sounding?”

“There seemed to be a lot of sexual acts I’m not familiar with.”

“Sounding is when you stick a small, thin rod—usually metal but sometimes glass—into your urethra and down your cock.”

He made a grimace. “Do you… like that?”

“I’ve never tried it,” I admitted. “But I like watch other guys do it. Well, certain other guys. With big dicks.”

He looked down at his big dick. “What does it feel like?”

“I’ve heard it described as being stroked from the inside, if you can imagine that.” I looked at his fat nipples and asked, “Piercing?”

He followed my gaze to his chest. “I’ve been… curious about that. But it seems so permanent. What if I don’t like it?”

“Do you like having your nipples played with?”

“Only a lot,” he admitted, as his hand started rising towards his chest as if to illustrate the point, but then it fell back.

I watched his hand move, grinning. “You’d probably like it.” He seemed to be considering it when I steered us back to the matter at hand. “Okay. A safe word, huh?” He nodded seriously. “How about when, if I scream get the fuck out of my ass, you get the fuck out of my ass?”

He smiled, and then chuckled. A warm, deep rumble. “That sounds fair.” He set his feet a bit wider, sliding himself fully into my control. “So, are we just going to stand here with my cock in your hand, or am I going to fuck you?”

“The latter,” I said, and then I started tugging by the dick towards the bedroom, the servant to do my bidding.


It felt like several hours had passed since we were last together on the bed, because so much had changed. I was just getting used to the new, improved Hoppy and his many hidden and not-so-hidden talents when here I was with a newer, improveder Hoppy, now with even more miles per gallon!

I tried to figure out the best entry angle for our fuck in consideration of the strong possibility that his cock could swell and lengthen inside me at the very moment when getting him to pull out would be nearly impossible. It wasn’t something I ever considered before but then my short-lived foray into fist-fucking came bubbling back and I knew how we should proceed.

Hoppy looked disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to watch me get fucked like he had seen it on that favored porn of his, but I assured him I would amply prove my pleasure at the sensation of his gorgeous cock shoving inside me with a wide variety of probably very loud and sometimes embarrassing vocal exercises, which might will include some instructions for him as well as more than a few swear words, some of which were likely to be quite colorful and creative in nature.

He seemed satisfied with that.

I planted myself on the bed on all fours, with my head near the headboard as a bed is made for. It gives one something to hold on to when your ass is being invaded by a foot-long shank of pure sex by a muscle god big enough to bench press a Ford F-250. I even checked to see if it was bolted to the wall—which it was.

I admit that initially I was going into it more like a sport or an Olympic fuck event. Like, the Grandmaster of Fucking Challenge or something. We could sell tickets. And Hoppy could tell, because there I was all ready, willing and able and… nothing happened. No knock at the back door, no friendly tongue action, nothing!

I looked over my shoulder and wagged my prime ass at him. “Well?”

“Uh, could we start off a little bit differently? I mean, I appreciate your enthusiasm very much but I kind of like… .”

I jumped around like a frolicking puppy, my excited cock bobbing like one of those toy birds that drink water, but more dick-like. “What do you like?” I teased, pushing my fingers into my mouth and sucking them, pulling them out all shiny with spit and licking it off.

Hoppy’s cock literally jumped. “Uhhhh…”

I licked my lips, winding my tongue around and around, and sucked my fingers again. I was being silly but its affect on Hoppy’s libido was quite plain. His cock was throbbing hard and drooling pre in a steady stream. It looked almost comical, the way it jerked to a steady rhythm and its little, supple mouth was open, that flow of warm sex honey winding its way along his metronome shaft.

I reached my spit-wet fingers towards his prick and stroked him, gathering a goodly amount of his pre in my palm which I then lifted to my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and licked it off.

Fuck, he tasted good. I wondered idly whether he’d fucked around with even that aspect of his body, maybe formulating the perfect sexy cum taste if that was possible. His cock was jumping like a happy dog and I imagined him trying to shove that massive hunk of meat inside me while to was throbbing and jerking with those powerful pulses.

I moved up to him, both of us on our knees, and pressed my naked body against his. He started to move his hands on my shoulders but I shook my head and said, “No hands. Just bodied. Your body against mine. Mine against yours.”

“Can we kiss?’ He swallowed hard. “Please?”

“Maybe,” I said. “If you’re good.”

“What does good mean?”

I licked his nipple. “Good means what I say it means.”

“Is…” He sucked in a ragged, heated breath. “Is this role-play?”

“Maybe,” I teased. “What role did you want to play?”

“I’ll do anything you want me to,” he said, echoing an earlier promise. His huge, hard erection was throbbing steadily against my belly. I could feel his constant river of pre like a warm bath one my skin.

“No, Hoppy,” I answered. “This time, you get to call the shots. This time,” I paused, reaching my lips up to kiss his, feeling his long tongue pushing inside my mouth as his cock pulsed even harder, even faster, “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“But I don’t know… .”

“Knowing isn’t important. Feeling is. What do you want me to do, Hoppy?” I kissed his mouth again, still keeping my hands off his gorgeous, hot, muscular form. “Just ask me.”

“Touch me,” he said. “I love when you touch me.”

“Touch you where?”

“My chest,” he said. I kissed one nipple and then the other, dragging my tongue over his vulnerable nubs. “Yes,” he breathed softly. “Harder. Use… use your hands.”

“But you can’t use yours,” I told him.

He seemed to think about it—I could feel his hands grasping and clenching near my hips, his fingertips gently brushing my butt—but eventually he groaned. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“But… I want to…”

“Sometimes what we want and what we need are separate things. Do you want to touch me, or do you need me to touch you?”

“Touch me,” he whispered.

I began to explore his body as we huddled on the bed together, I could hear him breath and groan and sigh no matter where my hands caressed him. Was his entire body an erogenous zone? He shook with bliss when I was licking his neck and my fingers twisted and plucked his nipples, which were—like mine—extremely sensitive.

His cock was pouring pre like a syrup dispenser. It was pressed between our bodies as I moved my hands along his wide, tapered back and squeezed his muscular, thick ass and rubbed his hole with my fingers. It was pulsing and throbbing so hard that it seemed like a separate thing between us—like a very large, very hard, very warm, battery-powered dildo with a strong, but slow, vibrator attached to it.

Throb. Throb. Throb. Throb.

When I touched his hole, the throbs grew both stronger and more intense.

throbthrobthrobthob

I started to use its ceaseless, powerful pulsing like an evaluation of my effectiveness, allowing it to teach me in a very sensual manner exactly where Hoppy was the most vulnerable to my ministrations.

True to his words, he never touched me with his hands, but I could tell it was like a kind of torture for him. He would raise them occasionally, obviously meaning to hold me, or stroke me, or guide me, but he would always lower them again because I would stop whatever I was doing when I sensed his anxiousness.

I was certain that if I kept this up, I could make Hoppy come without ever even touching his dick. He was in some exquisite sexual heaven, feeling my hands and mouth exploring his body, feeling our cocks pressed together as mine rubbed on his and his throbbed and drooled and pulsed between us.

He was crazy horny after a few minutes of this. His body was slick with sweat and his intoxicating and erotic scent was very strong. I could practically taste it in his sweat, as if arousal was something he was leaking from his pores because he had so fucking much of it. His prick was practically buzzing with need.

Which was when I pulled my hands and mouth off his body and said, “Your turn.”

He was momentarily caught off guard, sunken into some deep well of sensual bliss. I grabbed his cock—fuck, that thing literally was buzzing, now pulsing and throbbing so fast that I wondered if he was having a heart attack—and he opened his eyes and groaned like a bull. I rubbed my thumb over his helmet, gooey and slick with pre, and rubbed the highly sensitive lips of its small, drooling mouth. “Your turn,” I repeated softly.

He looked at me and licked his lips, as if pondering exactly what he wanted to do with me. My brain was sizzling with lust for him and I wanted him to throw me down on that fucking bed, pry my ass open and push himself inside, fucking me so hard and deep that I’d walk funny for a month.

He slowly lifted his hands and placed them around my face with a tenderness that took me off guard. Then he leaned in and kissed my mouth with equal tenderness, a kiss that lingered, one that he was obviously enjoying if the increasingly hard throbbing of his cock was any indication.

His hands started to move down my body. Onto my neck, them my shoulders, along my back, encircling me with their size and power, and then Hoppy was embracing me and pulling me tighter against him, the kiss never stopping, his hot, hard prick practically vibrating between us.

I don’t know how long we kissed, or what he was thinking—if he had the capability of thinking anything at all, what with all the blood leaving his body and rushing into his magic, throbbing cock—but it was the most intimate experience I had ever felt. While I had been playing with his body, exploring and rubbing and caressing, Hoppy was pouring intense desire and lust and love into this embrace.

It was everything.

When the kiss finally ended and I was left breathless and panting with my chin resting on his form, muscular shoulder, all I could say was, “Fuck me.”

His body shook with desire. It was like he was humming already.

“I’ll do anything you want me to,” he answered.

My heart was racing. I was excited and scared, and each emotion was feeding the other.

I knew that Hoppy would never intentionally hurt me, and I’d managed big dicks before, but Hoppy’s was… massive. It was larger than the largest dildo I owned, and that’s saying something. I thought about the way he pumped pre and the way his dick throbbed with clocklike regularity and what those might feel like inside my ass, a huge, wet, hot, hard prick stretching my hole to its limits as he rubbed against my prostate while throbbing with increasingly intense pulses.

I thought about asking him about that—how his cock throbbed like something that normally needed batteries—but wondered if it was one of those things that happens without thinking about it, and once you start thinking about it, it stops happening.

Sex is often weird, I think we all agree on that. The problem is that sometimes we think we’re weird for finding unusual things sexual. One of my theories about sex is that it is most enjoyed when you allow your body to do what it wants to—or needs to—and not to think about it too much. Try things, do things, don’t be afraid you’re weird or whatever because you enjoy seeing underarm hair, or licking earlobes, or watching two men rut around in mud before trying to wrestle each other into submission, you do you, buddy boy. No judgment here.

And it was evident that Hoppy had a lot of unexplored interests and fetishes and kinks. Maybe they were always there, maybe his newly powerful libido simply liked… everything. His body was now more attuned to pleasure and satisfaction and using that as the yardstick for how it continued developing. Would it also naturally start to find everything pleasurable and satisfying? What developments might emerge when he started to experience those more… unusual forms of sexual gratification?

If a powerful orgasm made him grow more muscular and handsome—’improving his beneficial genetic analogies to his cellular principal’ as he so unsexily put it—what would be unlocked in him if we started to actively explore the things he considered “interesting”?

On the other hand, did this man really need more stimulation? I was sort of inspired to see what would happen if we turned Hoppy into the ultimate leather daddy, watching him swell with furry muscle to fill out a pair of crotchless chaps and a harness. Though technically all chaps are crotchless, but I enjoy saying ‘crotchless’ in pretty much any connotation.

Getting those fat nipples pierced and adding a Prince Albert to that extremely impressive cock meat? Leering at that prime piece of bubblicious butt walking down a public street on the way to Fulsom in San Francisco or Mr. International Leather in Chicago? Catching sight of all the other men literally drooling with lust as he passed them, leaving behind that funky fog of sex juice he seemed now to be pumping out by the metric ton? Sign me up, boys!

And to me, the sexiest thing about him was that when I looked past the gorgeous, irresistible face and the stupidly sexy chest and its thick furry coat and those massive upper arms and that fat, mouthwatering prick and that magic cocksucking ass—he was still 100% Hoppy. He was the dude I loved hanging out with so many years ago, the kind, sweet, gentle, supportive, a-friend-through-anything guy, with Hoppy’s bright, open smile on those newly formed sensual lips and Hoppy’s focused, intelligent gaze behind those mesmerizing blue eyes.

There was Hoppy, as I always remembered him.

And now Hoppy was going to pound my ass into this bed until I couldn’t think a coherent thought from the unyielding onslaught of pleasure.

He was kissing me and caressing me and stroking me with utter lust. His fingers were rubbing my hole and taint. His mouth was kissing mine, and then he was kissing and licking my neck. I could feel the heat of his erection between us like a hot poker, almost imagining that it might soon be in that same position except lodged inside my butt and pushing and throbbing against my prostate, the head managing somehow to be leaking precum behind my sternum.

I was having trouble forming words, but I managed to say, “Okay, before we start you should…”

I didn’t manage to finish my advice before he physically manhandled me, tossing my smaller frame onto the bed before him, setting his hands to my ankles, pulling my legs up and apart, and diving forward to start eating my ass again.

I think we managed to find at least one new sexual act that Hoppy not only enjoyed, but was already fairly professional in his handling and enjoyment of his tongue on, in, and around my butt hole. My god, the man was an insatiable ass eater. I was sweating and squirming and making sounds like a chipmunk in heat. He was licking and slurping and lapping at my ass, then pushing his tongue inside deeper and deeper and deeper still, tongue fucking me as I had never even dreamed of being tongue fucked.

My ass felt like it was dripping and quivering and pulsing as he spent minutes down there, holding my lags apart and my ass open for his butt munching appetites.

At some point I think I was about to come and I wanted to warn him, because I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing, but almost exactly as I opened my mouth to try to speak, I felt my body being manhandled once again and I opened my eyes to watch Hoppy move into a better position to insert his peg into my hole.

He was gazing at my spit-lubed ass with a look of a man on a mission. His cock was steel-hard and drooling. He tried sort of guiding his erection towards my hole, moving his hips and pelvis and trying to position his prick like a crane over a junk yard, but I knew that thing wasn’t about to move from its upright position without some help, which was when he came to the same conclusion himself and release my legs from his hands. “How do I… start?”

I nearly laughed out loud again. After spending all that time slurping at my ready hole, he wasn’t sure of his next steps. I let my feet rest on the bed with my knees bent and my ass pointed at him. “I find that if you get the head in, the rest is easy.”

He looked at my butt like an engineer assessing some alien tech. I mean, he had a cock and I had a hole and it’s pretty simple when you think about it. The muscles along his arms bulged and flexed as he grabbed hold of himself and bent that god-like erection towards me. He kissed the mouth of his prick to my hole and I shuddered feeling him knocking. “Do I just… .I mean, do I…”

“Just fuck me!”

Okay, so I really wanted him inside. Sue me for being anxious.

Luckily for me, Hoppy didn’t take revenge on my impatience and shove himself home, splitting me like a roasted pig on his dick. He was rubbing himself against me with the spongey head of his cock. It felt like he was kissing my butt with warm, soft lips—which I suppose he was. The look of concentration on his face was a bit humorous, as he methodically painted my tender rosebud with honey.

Then he pushed.

We both groaned with pleasure at the same time. Mine was more like a little whimper of a child finally getting his candy, his was like the sound I imagine a grizzly bear makes when he’s fucking. “I’m in,” he said proudly.

“I know,” I advised him. “Keep going.”

He started to slowly, carefully shift his hips and his eyes rolled into his head. “Oh my god,” he said softly.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“This feels… so good. Oh my god.” He opened his blue eyes to glance up at my face away from my butt. “Does it feel good to you?”

I was already breathing hard. “To coin a phrase,” I said, gulping deep, “oh my god.”

“Should I… ?”

“Keep going,” I repeated.

“I’m going to push in deeper.”

“Yes,” I agreed. Do that. Deeper.

He stopped fucking and I could feel the strong intrusion of his cock inside me. I tried to relax against him but it was difficult because of how thick he was. The head was narrow and then the shaft swelled out very thickly almost immediately. He grunted and I shuddered. Then he started fucking me again, accompanied by slick, wet, slurping noises as my ass suctioned onto his prick.

He closed his eyes again and reached up to play with his own nipples as he fucked me. He was making my whole body shift with the power of his strokes, and I grabbed the sheets and held on. He kept whispering “oh my god” and twisted his head on his muscled neck.

“Deeper,” I said.

He paused and pushed inside. Several inches of him had to be inside me by now. My ass lips burned with the size of him and I gasped, which made him stop. “Too much?”

“One second,” I asked. “Just give me a second.”

He reached down and stroked my belly and my chest. “We don’t have to…”

“Yes, we do,” I told him. “Just let me… adjust.”

“You feel so good, Hulkster. So good.” A thick, strong wave of his sexual scent assailed me. It made my nostrils sting and my mouth go dry and my ass to relax. It made me so fucking horny. It made everything feel good. “Okay,” I said. “Keep going.”

He started fucking again, more quickly now, sliding himself in and out of me. I could feel him there, the ridge of the helmet and the thick veins that pumped hot blood to his monster. I was so tight around him that I could feel every detail of his cock. “Yes,” I groaned. “Deeper.”

He started hitting my prostate and I could feel that pulsing sensation from his cock. He pushed inside until he nudged it and he stopped, several thick inches of him pulsing and throbbing inside me, sending out these weird, amazing, erotic waves I could feel in the core of my soul. He felt the hard, soft surface against him. “Is that?”

“Yes,” I answered.

He moved slightly and rubbed against it. “Can you feel me?” A thick, sudden throb vibrated against my prostate, sending a deep and intense ripple of sex rippling out across my body. “Holy fuck.”

He caressed my abs with his warm palm again. “Everything all right?”

“Everything is… fucking incredible.” He throbbed again as if in response to my praise. “Your cock.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s… throbbing.”

“Yeah,” he said. It throbbed again. Quicker this time. “Does it feel good?”

“Fuck yes,” I moaned. “How… ?”

His dick started to fucking vibrate! Swear to god, his cock was a fucking battery-powered vibrating dildo in my ass. “You know what Kegels are?”

My brain was pretty focused on the sensation happening inside my butt. “Kegels?”

“It’s an exercise to strengthen the pelvic floor.” His cock was vibrating steadily now, and he started sliding himself in and out, rubbing against my prostate, vibrating in my ass. “It’s a way to strengthen those muscles, they surround the prostate and rectum.”

This seemed like an inopportune time to be discussing exercises. “Okay.” My voice was vibrating as well as his dick was doing amazing things inside me.

“I’ve improved them.” There was a touch of pride in his voice. He’d worked on this. He practiced this like an Olympic-grade sexual athlete.

“Kegels?”

He throbbed again. “My pelvic floor muscles.” He was now steadily vibrating. “Like this.” He held up his hand with his index finger stretched forward. Suddenly, he started wagging it up and down quickly. Then it got quicker. And even quicker. Soon it was moving so fast that it was little more than an indistinct aspect of his finger, moving so quickly that all I could watch was a flesh-colored fan-shaped blur. “Same principle. I guess along with bigger muscles, I gained some additional control.”

I think I gasped or something. “Some?”

“Do you want more?”

I was gripping the sweaty sheets hard. Veins stood out on my arms from the strain. The pleasure was extraordinary. Like nothing I had ever felt. It made my whole body feel like he was fucking me. Waves of profound sexual power were emanating from my ass and radiating outward to reach every part of me. I nodded acceptance and his prick went into hyperdrive.

Was he a man or a machine? How the fuck could he make his cock do this? I couldn’t deny it was happening but I had a hard time understanding how it was possible. This constant almost violent nudging of my prostate was forcing a stream of pre to drool from my hard-on and I was almost losing control of myself under this unexpected sexual onslaught.

Hoppy was fucking me with a foot-long, Coke bottle thick cock capable of vibrating as he fucked me. To say that this was an unexpected turn of events on a day filled with them is an understatement. What else was his new, improved body capable of? How far had he pushed this envelope? Was there even an envelope left?

I was about to quickly find out.

Turns out Hoppy didn’t just look strong, he was strong. Motherfucking strong. I’m not sure where he got the idea from—maybe some interesting porn he watched, or some ludicrous fetish fiction about muscle sex—but his hands, as they explored me, and his arms, embraced around me, with his cock inside me, lifted me up from the bed and fucking sat me down on his dick. If I thought I was delirious with sexual overload before, now I was sitting on Hoppy’s enormous and talented cock, surrounded by his muscular arms, caressed with his large, strong hands, and being kissed by the softest, warmest pair of lips that god or science ever designed.

And then the tongue started in, and I lost it completely and started pumping cum all over Hoppy’s huge, bulging, furry pecs. Was I bouncing on his cock or was his cock making me bounce? It felt like I was unleashing all the cumulative cum I had ever come in my life, as he rubbed and pulsed and vibrated inside me.

It felt a bit as if he was literally pushing cum from my body, or squeezing it out, or pulling it from my balls using some weird, secret, super power. He was kissing me and holding me and fucking me and then his lips released mine and he tossed his shaggy head back and gasped and groaned and I could feel it, I could feel him explode, I could feel a warm, sudden, massive flood fountaining inside me.

Then his eyes were focused on mine and his lips were grinning and he was sucking air through his nostrils and he watched my face, locked on my gaze, as he blasted his load in my ass. It was, without a doubt, the sexiest fucking thing I had ever experienced in my life. He groaned and came and I came and we were coming all over each other, inside and out.

His embrace tightened. I could feel every bulging muscle in his arms as he held me. His mighty chest rose and fell, swelling and receding. I came again, my hard-on lodged against his abs, the head of my dick spitting cream into the deep, warm forest of dark curls massed on his pecs. Cum was dripping from his nipples. My cum. So I added more.

Maybe I was delirious but it never occurred to me to wonder how I was managing to unload another thick delivery of cream after pushing an Academy Award winning amount inside Hoppy’s magical cocksucking ass.

And I was still coming.

And so was Hoppy.

Fuck, it felt… amazing. Fucking amazing. It was like achieving nirvana, some mythical, supernatural state of perfect sexual being. It is what I assume heaven is if heaven involves having a huge, vibrating, thick, warm, perfect prick pumping streams of cum inside you. It was ecstasy wrapped in euphoria pushed inside bliss and slathered in a thick, warm, creamy layer of pure sex.

I mean, long story short, and not to stress the point too severely, but is was fucking amazing. Hoppy was fucking amazing.

I could go on and on with this as it went on and on, but suffice it to say that I was on the verge of going insane with pleasure. And that was when his dick, still hard as steel and thick as a pop bottle, starting throbbing again.

I mean, my god, man, do you even have an off switch?

He groaned and I could feel it all through my body. He was vibrating inside and out, holding me against him as he came inside me, throbbing and groaning and growling and… growing.

It was happening again. He would pump and grow, pump and grow. I could feel it, this time, feel his body swelling with more muscle, feeling his muscles, hard and strong and sexy, pushing against me. At first I thought he was just holding me tighter, but I could feel his pecs pushing against my dick. I could physically feel his chest growing thicker.

“You’re…”

“Mm hmm.”

“You can…”

“Mmmmm.”

“How big… ?”

He came. He grew. He groaned. “Feels so good.”

“Don’t hold back,” I whispered.

“What if… ?”

“Don’t hold back.”

He pressed his lips to mine and held me tighter. His cock started throbbing with strong, hard pushes inside me. And with every pulse, with every pump of cum, with every surge of pure sex between us, Hoppy grew bigger.

Hoppy’s body was emanating sex. That was the only way to describe it. I assume if that poor but horny bellhop came back to the room to gather up the tray and dishes, he would have witnessed a huge, thickly muscular, gorgeous naked man holding a second pretty well-built and formerly also considered muscular man and they were both glowing like a nuclear meltdown. But instead of being horribly radioactive, they were instead visually throbbing with a light like ET’s finger except the light was made of sex and the sex was spreading outward from them like a fog bank also made of sex.

And as he watched—because who wouldn’t—one of the men’s bodies, or more accurately his muscles, were growing. He would hear the man groan and shift his hips, obviously because his dick was deeply, deeply inserted into the other man’s extremely happy hole, and then the man’s muscles would look as if he were flexing, except the muscles wouldn’t return to their former relaxed state.

They would stay larger, more defined, more developed. And then, after a moment, as the huge man kissed the smaller man’s mouth and he groaned again with a deep and gorgeous erotic surge, his muscles would flex again, larger still, pushing against his naked skin, the fibers and cables of raw brawn seeming to multiply and expand, and then he was slightly bigger again.

It would probably be at that point that the poor but horny bellhop would spontaneously cream inside his pants with a huge, thick, sticky, sloppy explosion of cum because the room itself was super-saturated with something that smelled exactly like raw masculine fucking, with a pungency so penetrating and powerful that it coated his skin with sex and infiltrated his senses with bliss and made his whole body heat up. And as he watched the men fucking, and experienced a sudden, hands-free, totally unexpected cocksplosion of his own, he’d hear the large man groan like a bear and watch his body tense and flex and then the big man would be even bigger.

Before each new swelling of power and muscle, Hoppy’s body grew very warm against me. There was an energy in play, a build-up of something inside him that was getting bigger and stronger with every fresh creamy fountain he was unleashing inside my ass. Then, with one last very powerful throb, Hoppy gasped and groaned and unleashed a thick jet of cum like a geyser, his throbbing cock swelling huge and his whole body shaking, and I felt his muscles bulge wildly. Then his sweaty forehead was resting on my shoulder as he sucked in deep breaths accompanied by giddy laughter and his body-changing, muscle-growing orgasm was done.

“Holy fuck,” was about the only thing I could think of to say.

His head was on my shoulder and his chest was shoving against me as he pulled deep, calming breaths into his lungs. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

He laughed warmly and raised his head to meet my eyes. His azure blue gaze was mesmerizing. “Pretty sure,” he said.

His hair was hanging is sweaty strands across his features and his skin was warm and wet. His prick was no longer throbbing or vibrating but he’d been doing it so long inside me that I felt like I was still vibrating anyway. Maybe I was. The intensity of what I’d just experienced was beyond sex.

“I probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” is what he said next, which was maybe at the bottom of a list of things I expected him to say.

“Okay,” I answered, confused.

He squeezed his ass and his cock swelled inside me. “It sometimes happens,” he said. “I get bigger after I’ve eaten.”

“You just… get bigger?”

“Not every time,” he explained. His cock bulged again. “But that was a big lunch.”

I squeezed my butt against him and he groaned again. “That’s just a reminder that your cock is still in my butt.”

“I know,” he said, grinning. “I like it there.”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t you… .like me there?” He throbbed inside me.

“I confess that I do, but I’m not sure this is an entirely sustainable position for us both.”

“No?”

“I imagine us walking into the reunion like this might be a bit surprising.”

“Which part? The naked part or the I’m bigger than I used to be part?”

“The you’re continually fucking me part.”

“Are we still fucking? I’m new at this, you know.”

“We are, as far as I’m concerned, still fucking. You are still fucking me. We’re fucking.”

He grinned. My god, he was handsome. “I like it.”

“Sure, but to be fair, I’m very good at it.”

“You have references?”

“I have a resume, references. I used to have a cover letter but that seemed a little too formal.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I appreciate a full understanding of any potential staff member.”

“Ha ha, you said ‘member.’” He laughed. Even that felt good.

We looked at each other and his embrace strengthened. “You’re sure we can’t just stay this way?”

“Not indefinitely. At some point I’m going to need to pee and I’m not sure what other unique sexual peccadilloes you enjoy and I’m perfectly happy to piss all over your furry chest but even that will start to smell after a while and…”

“Okay, I think I get your point.” His head tilted then and he added, “So, people like… that?”

“Getting pissed on? Oh, sure. There’s a fetish for pretty much everything the human body can do. I find it best not to judge anything too harshly.”

“Like how I enjoyed you ejaculating on my chest?”

“Exactly like that.”

“Hmm,” he concluded.


I felt empty—literally and figuratively—when Hoppy finally pulled himself free of my hungry little butt. I assumed I was going to walk funny for about a month after having that fleshy baseball bat pushed up my ass but walking to the bathroom was surprisingly easy, other than the wealth of Hoppy’s cum dripping down my legs.

He must have pushed a pint of cream inside me. He started to apologize again when I stopped him to mention that as much as he enjoyed me coming on his chest—which was now two massive globes that almost looked like boobs except made of muscle—I enjoyed him coming in my ass so copiously that it was more than I could handle.

To say that Hoppy was now even larger was like saying that Texas is bigger than Rhode Island or the Statue of Liberty is bigger than a Barbie doll. I was so insane with pleasure while it was happening that I certainly didn’t have the state of mind to count how many times he came inside me, and how many times, therefore, his body had swelled with fresh muscle. But there was no way to deny the truth of what was happening to Hoppy

I started to have my suspicions about Hoppy’s sudden muscular and sexual development as being more recent than he had admitted to. The evidence was literally staring me in the face—at least, his fat, chewy nipples kind of looked like eyes staring me in the face.

Also I really want to chew on his fat nipples.

It was growing crystal clear that what was happening to Hoppy wasn’t just his size or muscular development. He was growing more… masculine. And that it was happening very quickly. Returning to the bedroom I was faced with a sight I never could have predicted, and one that was somehow both arousing and concerning.

Hoppy was attempting to put his clothes back on. And to say that he was unsuccessful in his attempt was an understatement.

You know how The Hulk looks after he Hulks out? With his shirt in tatters and his pants reduced to shorts and his big feet too big for his shoes? Well, picture that, except the pants can’t handle the size of his butt and cock so The Hulk could be arrested for indecent exposure if people weren’t drooling over his handsome face and incredible body.

His back was to me so he didn’t get to see my shocked expression or the way my dick was somehow returning to its excited-to-see-him state. He was standing there slowly ripping his clothes apart as he tried pulling the sleeves over his massive arms. The seams along the back of the shirt had also been ripped open, with his V-shaped lats emerging like wings. The seat of his trousers had split, allowing easy access to his sweet and talented hole, and the sides of his pants had given up the ghost under the onslaught of his incredibly ripped thighs.

I laughed slightly despite myself which drew his attention and he turned around and I laughed again. His dick—thick and heavy and gorgeous—was hanging out of his undone zipper, obviously because he could no longer contain his bulge in the crotch of his pants. He looked both ridiculous and weirdly sexy. “My clothes don’t fit.”

“You think?”

“No, you don’t understand. These are the bigger clothes.”

“The bigger clothes.”

He nodded. “I calculated my growth rate and brought these in case of development, but I must have miscalculated.”

“You mean my sexiness?”

“What?”

“You miscalculated my sexiness? So you got bigger than you anticipated? Because of my sexiness?”

“You’re joking.”

“Not very well, apparently.” I assessed his ripped clothes and ultra-ripped body and said, “Don’t you think it was time you were straight with me?”

“About what?”

“You’re growing so quickly that you can’t fit into your bigger clothes. Your dick vibrates like a sex toy. Your face has been growing more handsome just in the time we’ve been together.”

“You think I’m more handsome?” He seemed genuinely pleased.

I nodded. “And you’re at least an inch taller, too.”

“Two inches,” he corrected. My eyebrows rose in surprise and curiosity. “It’s accelerating.”

“What is?”

“The process.”

“The process of the new improved Hoppy.”

He sighed. “I suppose I should have anticipated this. The changes aren’t stable.”

He didn’t seem too concerned, so I asked him if I should be. “Is that okay? Are you okay?”

He looked down at his growing body and his torn clothing. “I feel okay.” He glanced up at me. “Do I look okay?”

“You look fucking perfect,” I said, and my cock agreed.

“It’s kind of your fault,” he said, almost absently.

“How is it my fault?”

He looked at me. “I miscalculated your sexiness,” he said. Then he went into Hoppy mode—or should I say Dr. Jeremy Hopkins, double Ph.D mode. “The process is triggered by positive emotional and physical feedback. Normally development occurs during REM sleep phases when the organism can manage the feedback loop more economically.”

“Sure,” I said, my brain spinning and my cock throbbing just listening to his deep and powerful voice thoughtfully explain whatever the fuck he was talking about. I mean, just listening to him speak, regardless of the theme, was like having someone licking my balls.

“But I couldn’t mathematically account for the level of pleasure we would share. That’s likely due to to my own limited sexual experience. It’s difficult to measure physical pleasure as a means of physical growth and muscular development as a one-to-one reaction.” He was evidently lost in thought, but the room was still saturated with his sexual power and just looking at his body in those ripped up clothes was making me extremely horny. “Then again, the variables associated with intercourse and erotic sensations would be nearly impossible to account for without prior knowledge.”

“Uh huh.”

“In retrospect I should have erred on the side of maximum potential rather than…”

“You know I want to fuck you right now, right?”

“Pardon me?”

“I want to fuck you right now.”

He stopped talking and blinked. “I…”

“My cock is throbbing. It’s drooling. Hard as a rock.”

“You want to…”

“Fuck you.”

“Right…”

“Now.”

His cock joined mine in its sudden arousal. I watched him swell and rise and my heart started beating faster. It was difficult to imagine that I had managed to fit him inside my butt as his prick quickly swelled to full power, the thick shaft swarming with veins, the mushroom helmet shoving its weeping mouth between his massive pectoral globes. I was partially amazed the thing could even get vertical, it probably weighed 50 pounds. “I’m not certain that’s entirely wise,” his mouth said, even though his body was saying ‘Hells yeah, let’s fuck! Stick your dick inside my ass and drill me until I scream your name so loudly they can hear it in the fucking ballroom where our high school classmates are gathering!’

I licked my lips looking at his prick. “What has wisdom got to do with it?”

“I have seriously miscalculated the effects of partnered sexual activity. My… .oh, god, you’re so handsome. I think you’re even better looking than you were in high school, Hulkster.” His cock twitched and throbbed. Additional tatters of his shredded shirt fell away to reveal more of this intensely powerful upper body.

“The feeling is mutual,” I responded unnecessarily, as if my cock wasn’t already pointing that out.

“But this growth rate isn’t practically sustainable.”

“You’re using logic when we could be fucking,” I pointed out.

“I estimate…” He groaned and reached his hand to his hard-on, wrapping his big bear paw around the throbbing, swollen shaft as a sudden wealth of pre erupted from the mouth of his cock and cascaded down like a thick, warm, sex-scented river of honey. “I estimate I gained ten additional pounds of muscle, which is a larger single-day gain than I’ve ever experienced. Though obviously some of that weight is also bone, skin, and various… .oh god.” He groaned again and closed his eyes, and a wave of Hoppy’s addictive sex fog swept over me.

I groaned in unison, overcome by the horniness I was feeling from watching him stroke his colossus, the way his body looked in the torn remnants of his clothes, and that throbbing wave of sex he was emanating like heat. “How big… ?”

He started to speak and then merely shrugged. “The tallest human who ever lived was Robert Wadlow, who was nearly nine feet tall when he died. But at the accelerated rate that I am developing, and without having better estimates of the effects of intense sexual pleasure I am experiencing, I can’t be sure how big I will eventually reach.”

“But, possibly as big as nine feet?”

He shrugged as he stroked himself. I felt an odd thrill thinking of him growing even taller, even more muscular, even more handsome and powerful than he was right now. Though the idea that his prick was also going to continue developing its mammoth length, thickness, and heft was a bit scary. He caught my open-mouthed gaze at his drooling erection and he said, “Yes, that, too.”

“A nine-foot cock?” I asked, incredulous.

“No, I mean, my penis will continue to grow as well, commensurate with my muscular development, height, and weight.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I love you and everything, but trying to manage welcoming your nine-foot tall prick inside my well-trained but tender little butt would be… .what’s wrong?”

Hoppy’s handsome face looked frozen in shock. “You… love me?”

“Of course I love you, Hoppy. I always loved you.”

“I love you too,” he said. And then a strange look came over his face and he gripped his cock very strongly and he started breathing very fast and very deep. He looked like he was in the throes of another round of growth, and he moaned something like, “it’s happening.”

You know that scene in every comic book where the hero does this thing where he grits his teeth and throws his chest forward and clenches his fists and there’s like this light behind him, all dramatic and shit, and he suddenly swells larger with power? Or like when Prince Adam hefts that magic sword over his head and shouts “By the power of Grayskull!” and turns into He-Man?

Well, that didn’t happen. But as I stood there in that hotel room watching Hoppy undergoing something I couldn’t understand, he grew one size bigger all at once, finally managing to tear the clothes from his body as if shattering glass.

His whole body swelled larger in an instant. It almost happened too quickly to see, but the effect was obvious. He might have gained ten pounds over the course of our time together, but it looked like he gained another ten pounds all at once, and then he was breathing hard like he’d finished a marathon or something and his body was coated in sweat and the sense of his overwhelming masculine sexual power—whatever that was—exploded like a burst bubble in the space between us and my cock swelled and erupted with a sudden powerful orgasmic explosion, shoving cum I didn’t think I had up the shaft and out the mouth in a fountain so thick that I was certain I was gonna paint the ceiling.

Hoppy was slightly bent over and breathing hard. A deep, powerful groan that sounded like it was made of pure sex erupted from his chest and he slowly straightened up, his eyes closed and his strong jaw set.

Was he in pain? Or was he experiencing pleasure so intense that it looked like pain? I was still recovering from my own massive orgasmic blast and could hardly focus. Then his hands were exploring his body, moving through the thick forest that coated his chest, rubbing his fat likable nipples, gripping the mighty biceps bulging on his upper arms. The exploration looked like a combination of wonder and curiosity, like a different man’s hands were exploring his own larger frame.

I was drained, physically and emotionally. That explosion of Hoppy’s masculine power, whatever it was, had overwhelmed me. I wondered if men in adjacent rooms had suddenly exploded cum all over their hotel furniture, or if all its power was focused on me alone. “What?” was about the only word or idea I could manage to form from my sex-fogged brain.

“Oh my,” I heard Hoppy say. “That was unexpected.”

I rubbed my eyes and tried to steady myself and looked at him and nearly came all over again, assuming I would ever have any cum in my balls again. “Understatement,” I whispered.

“I need to factor in emotional states as a catalyst. It occurred to me that pleasure derived from sources other than physical would have some affect, but the potential far outstrips when I ever assumed.”

Hearing Hoppy talking in his ultra-Hoppy vocabulary steadied me, thankfully. I looked at him as he spoke aloud, his hands still exploring his newly grown body, and I realized that he may not have been aware that he was speaking aloud. This was just how his brain always worked. It looked for solutions and explanations first, even before registering the amazing things that were happening around him.

“What… happened?”

He looked at me and a worried expression came over his features, which had further refined into a stronger definition of masculine beauty, which I hadn’t considered possible. He was still evolving, still improving, still upgrading himself. “Are you all right?”

“I’m… overwhelmed.”

“Same,” he said. “Sorry, I should have… but when you said that and I felt… when you told me…”

“That I love you,” I said, speaking the words he seemed scared to say.

“Yes, and I felt this… rush of emotions. No one ever said that to me before.”

“No one ever told you they loved you?” He shook his head, and a feeling of sadness erupted in the pit of my stomach. “Well, let me repeat it, unless you think it will make you explode with sex power again.”

“I don’t think it will.”

“I love you, Hoppy.”

“I love you too, Hulkster.”

Nothing as dramatic happened this time. There was no sudden muscular development, no explosion of sex between us. Frankly, I was slightly disappointed because it was kind of awesome? So instead I asked, “Can I kiss you right now?”

“I wish you would,” he said.

I went to him, marveling at his new height (had he gained another full inch?) and he leaned down to me and wrapped me in his strong arms and we kissed, but it felt different this time. It wasn’t just passion or sex between us, it was love. Love feels different. If you’ve ever been in love, you know what I mean.

His naked body was warm and his muscles were incredibly firm. His cock throbbed against mine and he smeared warm pre all over my belly and chest. He smelled like raw sex and I was certain that if I never left his embrace again, I would be forever happy.

We kissed for a long time and then he held me there, body against body, and we just breathed and sighed with contentment. “This feels nice,” he said. And then, “I’m starving.”

“Again?” I had to laugh slightly. The dishes from his previous meal were still on the table in the other room. But it probably made sense that if a body grew several pounds heavier and several inches taller in the space of a few hours, it was going to need sustenance to sustain that growth. Which is what Hoppy more or less explained to me as he pulled himself from our embrace and went to call room service again.

After ordering what sounded like three entire meals, he looked down at himself and said, “Maybe you should answer the door this time. I doubt that bathrobe is going to be adequate to cover me up at all this time.”

“Nor should it,” I said, rubbing my palm on his smooth, muscular butt cheek. “You should always be naked from now on. 24 hours a day, seven days a week. No one who looks like you do should ever hide an inch of their body under a stitch of clothing.”

“That’s not very practical,” he said, his brow furrowing.

“Who gives a shit about practical when they look like you do?”

“Or you,” he said, eyeing my naked body with obvious lust. Then he sighed and said, “I’m all sticky. I’m gonna take another shower before the food arrives.”

“I’d offer to join you but I think even in a shower as large as that one fitting us both in now with your bigger frame would be a bit awkward.”

“Not to mention that I would likely get so distracted with your warm naked body next to mine that I’d forget to lather up.”

“You say the nicest things,” I complimented. “Okay, you get cleaned up and then it’s my turn.” I took a deep sniff of the room and said, “Do the windows open in this hotel? This place smells like the inside of a well-fucked butt.”

“Colorful, but accurate,” he agreed. “I… kinda want to fuck you again.”

“Kinda?”

“100% I want to fuck you again,” he said, scientifically.

“Same,” I said. “But it will be different this time.”

“Because I’m bigger again?”

“Because I love you, and you love me, and we both know it now.”

His face brightened into an incandescent smile and his prick twitched. “Oh. That.”

My hand caressing his ass slapped him resoundingly and he flinched. At least this new powerful body could still feel pain, or so I assumed. It made me curious about Hoppy’s interest in other, more unusual sexual practices. I experienced a sudden rush of excitement considering everything we could explore together… given time.


When Hoppy was showering and I was waiting for room service, I started considering everything I didn’t know about him, and maybe the things he didn’t even know about himself.

It was evident that his sexual inexperience was both a boon and a hindrance. It was a boon in that we could explore it all together and in a relationship—assuming we were in a relationship—of trust and curiosity and openness. My sexual history was deep and wide and encompassed an embarrassing collection of riches, and I was open to anything and everything.

I mean, I knew what I liked most, but I wasn’t a prude at all. If some dude I hooked up with wanted to suck my toes, go for it, bro. I might not find the experience particularly exciting, but I could get off on the fact that he did.

It could be a hindrance if he always expected me to be in charge of our fun. Sex is a two-way street. You need to know what you like, but you need to know what he likes too. Your partner can come to resent it if he never gets to be the one in charge, or if his needs aren’t being met—particularly if he doesn’t even know what his needs are.

Hoppy was now a brainiac inside the body of a stud muffin. I mean, that’s kind of a best of both worlds scenario in one sense. Smart lovers are the best lovers. They’re more open-minded, generally, and they tend to have a sense of humor about the stupid shit that can happen when you’re naked with another person or three.

On the other hand, he might come to depend on me to allow him to have fun, because he could assume I might judge him and then like him less for something he wants to do—which, by the way, wouldn’t happen.

All of this was circling my brain while Hoppy was singing in the shower, and I have to admit that he had a decent voice. I pulled on the robe he’d worn earlier (and it still smelled like him, which made my dick throb and made my brain wonder if we could bottle that scent and sell it as an aphrodisiac, just bottles of Hoppy sweat you could douse a room in and call it Instant Orgy or something) when there was a knock at the door.

It was, of course, the same bellhop as before. The dude’s face fell in disappointment when it was me instead of that giant muscular walking erection answering this time, and who could blame him? “Good afternoon, sir,” he said.

“Hey,” I responded. I stood aside for him to come in with a cart bearing an embarrassing amount of food for two people, and even more embarrassing considering that Hoppy was likely to eat most or all of it. It was, again, a collection of very healthy things to nourish his continuing growth and development. I’m almost certain he had a spreadsheet in his head weighing the various benefits of every kind of food imaginable.

He wheeled it in and kept looking around, obviously searching for another glimpse of the naked man with the huge cock instead of little old me. “Are you enjoying your stay?” he asked. He was very young, probably not even in his mid-twenties, with a slight frame and a pretty face. He was not very good at hiding his search for Hoppy.

“He’s in the shower,” I replied, signing the bill.

His face reddened deeply and he cleared his throat. He took the bill and pen back and said, “My name’s Ned. Feel free to ask for me if you need anything else. Anything at all.”

“You want to hang around and see him? He should be done soon.”

“I… I should get back.”

“Oh. Okay.” Uh oh. Cold feet? I mean, Hoppy is rather intimidating. Guess I should try a different tact. “Could you check on the towels before you leave?”

“The towels.”

“I think we might need more towels.”

“More?”

“In the bathroom.” He just stared at me. “Where the shower is.” He looked like he was in shock. Might as well take advantage of it. “Also we probably need the sheets replaced because we’ve been fucking each other all day and they’re covered in cum.”

“Covered in…”

“Lacquered in it. He comes an unbelievable amount. Of cum.” A thought suddenly occurred to me. “When do you get off?”

“Get off?”

“From work.”

He was staring at the open bedroom door towards the sound of Hoppy’s singing and showering. “In an hour,” he said.

“Did you want to come back here in an hour, Ned?”

“Me?”

“My friend is remarkably horny. I’m afraid I can’t quite keep up with him and I could use some help.”

He swallowed dryly. “Me?”

“Unless you have something better to do. My friend has an exceptionally strong libido. Nearly unlimited. And you’ve seen his cock, which is massive. And I was just wondering whether that might be something that interested you, Ned. Spending some time with an incredibly muscular, impossibly handsome, completely naked man with a huge steel-hard cock, heavy cum-filled balls, and an inexhaustible sex drive.”

“I could get into trouble.”

“Only the right kind of trouble.”

His face reflected the thought process he was going through. Was some time with Hoppy worth getting fired? And who were these naked dudes fucking each other in the room all day long? And what was that smell that was making my cock throb and my balls twitch and my skin tingle? “The towels are in there?”

Oh, we were back to roleplaying. “Yes. Just in there. Can you take a look, please?”

“Of course,” he answered, adjusting his bulge as he walked into the cum-scented bedroom. It must have been more powerful than I realized, or else I was becoming used to Hoppy’s intense aroma, but Ned paused at the door frame to the bedroom and grabbed it with his hand, holding himself steady as an onslaught of Hoppy’s redolent sex perfume infiltrated his nostrils. He stood there for a couple of heartbeats and I suppressed a laugh at Neds dilemma before he started moving forward again through the den of cum we’d created.

I heard Hoppy’s singing stop and some murmured voices from the bathroom. I was curious about what the two men could be discussing, other than our sudden need for towels, and what Ned’s reaction would be to seeing Hoppy’s newly enlarged frame standing naked inside the steamy room with his hair all tangled along his stupidly wide shoulder mountains—assuming Ned could tell that the man was bigger, since memory is a poor witness and he probably remembered Hoppy’s hugeness as bigger than he was, anyway.

When Ned returned, he was breathing hard and had an obvious erection throbbing behind his zipper. He looked like he had a nice-sized dick. “Towels okay?” I asked, innocently.

“Holy fuck,” Ned answered. That seemed to be the usual response. “Is he like a bodybuilder or a model or something? Or, like, a god?”

“He’s ‘or something’,” I answered. “See you in an hour?”

“Yes, sir,” Ned answered. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank me later. My name’s Hulkster. His name’s Hoppy.”

“Yes, sir.”

He just stood there in a state of shock. “Towels?”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Towels.”

I called over my shoulder, “Hoppy!”

His deep and resounding voice answered. “Yes?”

“Could you come out here a moment?” Hoppy emerged from the cum-coated bedroom naked and dripping, rubbing a towel through his hair. “Did you meet Ned?”

Hoppy smiled and I melted. Judging from the little whimper that escaped Ned’s throat, he was similarly affected. Drops of water sparkled among his curly chest hair and clung to his fat dollar-sized nipples. His cock, nine inches of thick perfection, was hanging like a sausage over his massive balls. His six-pack was moving towards an eight-pack. His tall, wide frame filled the doorway. He wrapped the towel around his neck and tilted his head. “Yes, Ned was nice enough to ask about our towel needs.”

“I invited him back to have sex with us later.”

Hoppy’s always-hungry cock visibly throbbed. “That sounds interesting.”

I looked at Ned, adding “Hoppy said that sounds interesting.” Ned nodded silently, his eyes staring at Hoppy’s fat, shiny prick. I looked at Hoppy. “I think Ned is overwhelmed.”

“Do you want to have sex, Ned?” Hoppy asked point blank, folding his ridiculously muscled arms across his ridiculously muscle chest and leaning his ridiculously muscled bulk against the door frame. Ned nodded again. “Okay. Do you like to fuck, or do you like to be fucked?” Ned swallowed hard, still looking at that massive shank of sex hanging in lush abundance from Hoppy’s loins. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal reflected on his young face. “Not that it’s a one thing or the other choice. For example, I enjoy both, it turns out.”

Ned finally found his voice, and it literally cracked when he said, “I like to be fucked.”

Hoppy reached down and ran his hand along the length of his prick. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

Ned whimpered again so I offered him an escape. “Towels?” I asked.

“Yes, sir,” he answered.

It appeared that he was locked in place so I took him by the shoulders and led him to the door. “Thank you, Ned.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” And he left.

“He’s so polite,” I observed, turning back to Hoppy’s naked form.

“Hopefully he’s not too polite,” he responded, wagging his prick at me.

I registered my surprise. “Was that you being filthy?”

“I’m trying it on for size.”

“Unlike your clothes, it fits you.” I approached him and wrapped my arms around him, as he leaned his face down to mine and we kissed. “You’re wondering why I invited Ned back.”

“No.”

“Being honest is part of being in a relationship.”

“Are we in a relationship?”

“Once you utter the love part, you’re technically in a relationship. We don’t have to move in together or anything, but…”

He kissed me again. “But what if I wanted to move in together?”

“Your place or mine?” I joked.

“I live in a 42-room lodge in Montana on 70 rather gorgeous acres with a private airstrip and a jet I pilot myself, an Olympic-sized indoor swimming pool, stables that I don’t currently use for anything, a fully-equipped genetics lab probably more advanced than anything else in the world and more bathrooms than I can count, including one that I think resembles a professional spa with a shower that’s probably larger than this entire hotel room which I suddenly realize I haven’t taken full advantage of with another naked man who excels at fellatio. You?”

“I have a one-bedroom apartment in Highland Park. The fridge sounds like a 747 revving for take-off, the decade-old couch has my butt imprinted in it from playing too much Call of Duty and I’ve had sex in every room and probably on every piece of furniture including the stove.”

“Hot,” he observed.

“Literally,” I replied.

“So?”

“So?”

“You want to move in with me?”

I looked at this nearly seven-foot tall perfect figure of a man with a foot-long hard-on and a face that would make Michelangelo spontaneously come. My head was spinning. My heart was racing. My dick was throbbing. And I couldn’t think of one reason to say no to my best friend from high school who was kind and thoughtful and polite and loving and probably the sexiest fucking man in the whole world. “Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he agreed.

I never saw anyone so obviously overjoyed in my entire life.

We had an hour to kill until Ned’s return. Hoppy spent it eating everything in sight, because, as he explained it to me, “the growth I’m experiencing exceeds the maximum predicted development and I need to replenish my fuel intake in order to continue to realize the utmost continued muscular and physical evolution.”

In short, more food equaled more big. And I was a fan of more big.

I spent the time shopping, because Hoppy had already outgrown all the clothes he brought with him which were, to be frank, wholly unsuitable to the job anyway. He was a lab technician in an athlete’s body, and he needed to dress as the latter.

I visited a sporting goods store a couple of blocks away from the hotel and managed to avoid seeing any of my other high school relations in the process. I would rather avoid any awkward or embarrassing meet-ups, unless by some odd set of circumstances some other high school chum was also swelling with muscle and cock and then I might invite them to join the party up in the penthouse.

I chose the largest, stretchiest, least colorful apparel I could find, along with a couple of jackets which I hoped might help hide his muscularity a bit, though the prospect of anything hiding his unusually powerful and massively muscular frame seemed remote. Under Armor was the natural choice as their training gear went all the way up to 5XL and involved some magical odor-fighting material I was hoping might also help mitigate Hoppy’s sex stink to some degree. When we left the hotel, I didn’t exactly mind if he left a trail of ejaculating men in his wake—I wondered what might happen inside an enclosed space like an elevator if someone happened to be trapped inside with him while we were making out—but I thought that if I could avoid having an unplanned orgy break out in the lobby we might avoid some legal attention.

Between you and me, I was actually sort of excited to see Hoppy’s awesome body encased in skin-tight gear like some wannabe Thor from an alternate and infinitely sexier MCU adventure. Thinking about seeing Hoppy’s body and that long, dark hair and beautiful face and giant cock wandering around like some super-sexed superhero got my engines revving into the red. I guess we al l have our superhero fantasies, don’t we? I mean, who wouldn’t want to get super-fucked by Superman?

At the same time, now that I was alone, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Was I really ready to just junk my whole life and all my friends to go live on some northern ranch and watch my best friend and best lover keep growing bigger and bigger as we enjoyed endless rounds of the best sex I ever had?

Mostly, yes. I mean, I was hardly thrilled with my job or career, I had a succession of lovers but no one I really cared about, and the idea of living in a mansion with a man who fulfilled my every muscle fantasy didn’t seem to have a down side.

Not that I could help him with his growth or anything. He was the scientist, not me, but maybe I could be his, like, sexual tutor or something. Help him explore all those fantasies of his own while discovering a few new ones for myself in the process.

And of course I wondered if he would share this muscle miracle with yours truly, and if I wanted it. Would it even work on someone else the same way? I didn’t understand a tenth of what Hoppy talked about most of the time, but I trusted him and, holy fuck, I really did love him.

I was kind of wandering around in a fog with a shopping bag full of giant stretchy clothes when I made it back to the room and walked in on a scene I could not have imagined if I tried to.

My boyfriend—was he my boyfriend?—my boyfriend was sitting in a chair mostly naked, just like I liked him. He was wearing one of the hotel’s way too small for his body bathrobes for some reason, and I say ‘for some reason’ because it was hanging open with his dick and balls hanging out and the sleeves gripping so tightly to his biceps that I wondered how he even managed to get it on in the first place. His mighty chest and chewable nips were as equally exposed as his cock and balls, and he was sitting there holding a glass of water in one hand while he played with one of those chewable nips with the other.

Across from him, on the large bed, and naked, was Ned. Who was either asleep or passed out.

“Uh,” I said.

“Hello,” Hoppy replied.

I set the bag on the floor and narrowed my eyes as I tried to imagine what had lead to this scene. “Is he?”

“Passed out.”

“And… why?”

Hoppy shrugged. “All I did was walk in here and he was already naked which sort of surprised me but I can appreciate eagerness, always a very amenable characteristic whether you’re facing a new chromosomal string or licking a butt hole.”

“Sure,” I agreed.

“And I was wearing this because it was all there was and I wasn’t sure what the correct wardrobe choice was for a sex invitation to a stranger since I haven’t done this before but Ned was early and, as I mentioned, rather eager.”

I looked at Ned and said, “Who wouldn’t be?”

“I would’ve called for some advice but interesting point, I don’t know your phone number.”

“Easily rectified,” I told him. “So eager beaver Ned here arrives, strips himself quickly naked, waits in here for some fun, you walk in… .”

“And when I opened the robe, he… did that.”

“Were you hiding a clown under the robe or something?”

“No clown. Just an erection.”

“Uh huh.”

“And he fainted.”

Hoppy shrugged. “I brought him some water because I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

“That was thoughtful.” I picked up the bag and handed it to him. “Go try these on for size while I figure out what’s up with our friend here.”

Hoppy stood up. And up. And up some more. How had I forgotten how tall he was? I hoped the clothes fit. He looked inside and one of his manly eyebrows arched. “Black?”

“Pardon?”

“They’re all black.”

“One of them is gray,” I pointed out. “Well, dark gray.”

He was looking inside the bag with a slightly disappointed look on his face. “I just always thought of myself more like Captain America blue than Winter Soldier black.”

My cock throbbed. “I’ll remember for next time.”

“Maybe we can get the concierge to pick up something a bit more colorful.”

“Do concierges do that? I thought they just got tickets to things or arranged dinners.”

“No, concierges will do pretty much anything if you tip them enough.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, you’ll… take care of Ned?”

“Unsurprisingly, I have some experience with passed out naked men on beds.” Hoppy grunted and started pulling the stretchy clothing out of the bag curiously and I want over and sat on the bed next to Ned.

“Ned.” He moaned. “Ned!” He moaned again. I slapped his cheek with the back of my hand. “Edward.”

“Benedict,” he murmured.

“I like it,” I told him. “You okay?”

“It’s. So. Big.”

“His cock?” He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, and nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of large.”

“He opened the robe and I saw it and like all the blood in my brain started pumping into my dick and I felt all dizzy and the next thing I knew… .”

“I understand.”

“I mean, I saw it when it wasn’t… that big. And it was already big.”

“Huge, really.”

“But holy shit.”

“Yep.”

“I’ve never felt dizzy looking at a cock before.”

“Congratulations?”

“It’s. So. Big.”

“Can you sit up?” He nodded and struggled a bit so I helped him. He was reed thin, with extremely defined abs and almost a chest. His skin was clean and pink and so were his nipples. “Can I get you something?”

“Do you have any Scotch?”

At least he had good taste. “How old are you?”

“Hopefully not older than your Scotch.”

And a sense of humor. I called out, “Hoppy?”

“Yo!”

“Did you just say ‘Yo’?”

“I was trying to be casual.”

“Can you order up some Scotch from that concierge who can get you anything?”

“Probably. Anything in particular?”

I looked at Ned, and he said “Ardbeg.”

“Really?”

“I’m a peat monster.”

I called, “Ardbeg.”

Hoppy called back, “Is that a Scotch?”

“It’s tastes more like antiseptic, but yes, it is a Scotch.”

“Roger that.”

“And Hoppy?”

“Yes?”

“The casual thing isn’t working.”

“Understood.”

Ned was watching me with a smile on his face. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“Fresh today. Does it show?”

“You talk like he’s your boyfriend.”

My heart exploded. “Yeah,” I said, blushing.

“So… how do you handle it?”

“His cock?”

“His… everything.”

“Ah. Yes, he can be overwhelming.”

“‘Can be?’ He’s the very definition of overwhelming.”

“He’s… special. In a lot of ways.”

“What’s it like?”

“Fucking him?”

“Being in love.”

Jesus, dude. “It’s… great.”

Ned put his hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to cry?”

“I might.” I pulled in a long, slow, contented breath. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded. “I think I just needed some warning or something.”

“What, like, ‘look out, my cock is the most gorgeous and massive cock you’re likely to encounter in your young life’ sort of thing?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

“But you’re afraid his cock could.”

Ned exhaled loudly. “I mean.”

“It’s a lot of cock.”

“A massive amount.”

“Ample.”

“It is a very generous amount of cock.”

“Bounteous, if you will.” Ned’s prick was blossoming as we discussed my boyfriend’s plentiful penis. “If it helps, it feels amazing when he’s fucking you.”

“Do you do this a lot?”

“Revive young men who pass out at the sight of my boyfriend’s cock?”

“Invite young men to gaze upon and get fucked by your boyfriend’s cock.”

“To be fair I was hoping we’d both be involved in the fucking.”

“A three-way.”

“At least,” I said. “Sorry, that was glib. No, to be frank, you’re the first person we’ve invited into our relationship.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It’s… complicated.”

There was a knock at the door and Hoppy moved to open it. The door closed again shortly after and Hoppy called in to us, “The Scotch is here. Can I… come in?”

“Are you decent?” I asked in a high, feminine voice.

“I’m fully clothed if that counts.”

I looked at Naked Ned, who nodded. “That counts,” I agreed.

Hoppy walked back into the bedroom carrying a small tray with a bottle of Ardbeg and three glasses. He was wearing the workout clothes I procured for him. He looked like fucking Batman.

He may as well have walked in naked, anyway. The Under Armor was clinging to him like a second skin, so tight on his body that every detail of his body was clearly visible, from his fat nipples to his eight-pack abs to the thick sausage and tennis ball ‘nads bulging between his legs. “Scotch?”

“Holy fuck,” Ned and I said in unison.

“What? Wrong Scotch?”

My mouth was hanging open but somehow I wasn’t drooling. He looked nakeder than naked. Nuder than nude. The clothing managed to eliminate anything that might have distracted from displaying exactly how perfect and beautiful his body was. “Hold my hand,” I told Ned.

“Why?”

“I might pass out.”

“What is wrong with you?” Hoppy asked us in his absurdly deep baritone.

“Have you looked in the mirror by chance?” I asked him.

“No, I put on these ridiculous so-called clothes and answered the door.”

“You look like Black Panther,” Ned remarked, “except not, like, Black.”

“I do?” Hoppy actually looked pleased.

“And with a huge, huge, huge penis,” I added, staring at the insane bulge at his loins.

“How do you look like that and not realize you look like that?” Ned asked. “You must live in the gym. No one has a body like that who doesn’t spend an insane amount of their life working out.”

“Oh,” Hoppy said. “I guess that’s true.”

“Of course that’s true!”

“Hoppy is genetically gifted,” I said quickly, which wasn’t a lie after all. “You know how some body types are pear-shaped, and some are thin, and some are fat?”

Ned nodded. “I can’t put on muscle no matter how hard I try, and I try pretty fu… pretty hard.”

“You can say fucking,” Hoppy explained. “We’re not very prudish.”

“Yeah, um, the answering the door with your incredible hard-on at full mast part kind of suggested that,” Ned agreed. “I’m just trying to alter my language to be not so fuck-filled at the hotel.”

“Admirable,” Hoppy noted, smiling.

“So, yeah, unlike your situation Hoppy here can’t not put on muscle.”

“And cock, apparently,” Ned noted helpfully. “Because that is a massive cock.”

“Thank you,” Hoppy replied, glancing down at his nine-inch sausage tucked sideways along his hip.

“Well, if my opinion counts, I think you look awesome.” He seemed to remember I was in the room suddenly and he added, quickly, “You both do!”

“Thank you,” I answered, trying to mimic Hoppy’s deep tones.

There was a moment of silence as the three of us, Super Hoppy in his skin-tight hero outfit, Ned in his birthday suit, and me fully dressed, took it all in.

Hoppy looked fucking amazing, like a superhero fantasy that went above and beyond my imagination. When Captain America emerged from that science pod with his new pecs and standing taller than anyone else in the room, he wished he looked half as impressive and sexy as Hoppy did. I really, really wanted him to turn around and show me America’s Ass in those skin-tight tights.

Needless to say, my dick, which started throbbing when he walked into the room with Ned and me, was now painfully hard. I could smell him like a floral perfume except made from sweat and cum and leather and smoke. It was difficult not to notice Ned’s prick was undergoing a similar metamorphosis, throbbing with every beat of his heart. I wondered if he was going to faint again.

Hoppy finally broached the awkward silence. “Soooooo… Scotch?”

“Fuck, yes,” Ned said.

Hoppy set the tray down on the table next to the bed and gifted us with a glimpse of his ass which was, as I had assumed, awesome. It looked even bigger—more muscular and bubblicious—in the tights, somehow. A Break the Internet ass if I ever saw one. He unstoppered the bottle and poured a generous amount into each glass, passing one to Ned and one to me. The strong peaty aroma contended with Hoppy’s sexy funky locker-room tang in an unexpectedly agreeable manner. He straightened and held his out. “What should we toast to?”

“To fucking!” Ned said, clinking his glass against ours.

“To fucking?” Hoppy’s handsome face looked nonplussed but he smiled anyway.

“To fucking and not fainting,” I added.

We drank. The Ardbeg was musty and earthy and musty on my tongue. It burned as it went down and I sipped some more, enjoying the sensation of what was in the glass mixing with what I was seeing and smelling with Hoppy in the room.

There were sighs and moans of contentment and then Hoppy asked, looking at Ned, “If I take these off, are you going to pass out?”

“I think I have sufficient control of my faculties to remain upright,” he answered.

“And so does your cock,” I remarked.

He looked down and shifted his hips, making his erection wag and shake. “Yeah, he’s pretty happy right now.” I reached over and stroked him and he reacted very strongly. The dude was incredibly responsive and aroused. Ned groaned and shuddered against me.

“You sure you’re not going to pass out?” He nodded silently. I spat on my palm and reapplied my grip to his cock. “So if I keep doing this,” I said, slowly stroking him with slick, wet caresses, “and Hoppy takes off his Black Panther outfit, you won’t keel over again?”

“I… ooh, fuck… I’ll try not to.”

“I suppose that’s all we can ask.”

“Is it getting hot in here?”

“That’s probably Hoppy. He has that affect on people.”

“When I’m horny,” Hoppy added helpfully.

“Which is always,” I also added helpfully.

“If I weren’t already naked I’d get naked. Can one get more naked than naked?”

Hoppy looked at Ned and me sitting on the bed and said, “Hulkster, can I talk to you in private?”

“I guess so. Ned, can you amuse yourself while I see what this huge hunk of man wants?”

When I pulled my hand from his cock, he took over where I left off. “I can probably find something to amuse me,” he said. Rubbing his thumb over the tip of his dick and grinning.

“I thought you might.” I accompanied Hoppy to the other room of the penthouse, pleased to be able to watch his perfect ass flex and bob in front of me. “What’s up?”

“I’m afraid I might hurt him.”

“Hurt him, how?”

“Like, split him open or something. This thing keeps growing and I’m not certain… .”

“You won’t hurt him,” I said. “You might be amazed at what can go into your average horny butt hole.”

“It’s not so much the girth as it is the length.” He started peeling his elastic pants from his narrow hips and down his body, pushing his hand inside and wrestling out his quickly swelling prick. “I wouldn’t want to punch a hole in him or something.”

“I mean, it’s kind of you to be so thoughtful, but my advice is to get started and let Ned steer the bus, which is, admittedly, quite an impressively sized bus.”

“I know.”

“Like, double-decker sized.”

“I know.”

“Double-decker bendy bus sized.”

“I know.”

“Bendy bus riding on a submarine kind of a deal.”

“I get the drift.”

Hoppy’s cock was huge, there was no arguing that point. Like an arm extending from his groin. An arm holding an apple. A small apple, sure, but an apple nonetheless. “I feel like you should be having this discussion with Ned rather than me. I get the impression that Ned knows what he’s in for and is probably pretty excited about it, judging by the passing out thing and the insistent hard on thing and… everything.”

“I’m okay!” Ned called out from the bedroom. “I’m kind of a size queen!”

“I think he can hear us,” Hoppy observed.

“I think you’re right.”

Ned appeared naked in the doorway, still stroking his erection. “I mean, I haven’t taken a baseball bat or anything but given some time to, you know, loosen up a bit I can handle holy fuck that is a huge cock!”

“It is, as you mention, a huge cock,” I agreed.

“You ride him?” Ned asked me.

“It’s less like a ride and more like an entire circus.”

“Minus the clowns,” Hoppy added, helpfully.

“Good, ‘cuz clowns are freaky.” Ned looked at Hoppy’s still-swelling erection and added, “And that is probably the most beautiful fucking cock I’ve ever seen.” He even licked his lips! “Look, Hoppy, I want you to fuck me. I love—like, really really love—getting fucked. I love feeling you inside me, thrusting, pushing, rubbing against me, driving me insane. I want you to use me up and leave me on the side of the road. I want to feel like my ass was visited by a very strong, incredibly sexy and probably naked construction worker with a steam-powered jackhammer.”

“That sounds… specific,” I remarked.

“I ache for your cock. I long for it with a burning passion. If a genie appeared right here, right now and granted me three wishes, all of them would be to be fucked by you.”

“You have to admit, the man has a way with words,” I observed.

Ned’s eyes seemed to be glued to my boyfriend’s prick. He managed to pull his hungry gaze away long enough to go to his pile of clothes and fished out his phone, fingering the screen a few ways, this and that, and then held it out towards Hoppy and me.

What I was looking at was a collection of dildos that was actually quite impressive, including one that would put Hoppy’s massive organ to shame size-wise. It was a giant, red, veiny dick with huge balls, probably a couple of feet high and thick as an average man’s arm, the kind of sex toy I always assumed was there for shock value or as a joke.

My fuckdar is never wrong.

“I cam on the side. This job pays shit and the tips here aren’t great and a boy’s gotta put food on the table, don’t he?” He turned the phone back around and started flipping through more photos. Then he showed us a few of his naked selfies and I have to say the production values were first rate. Great lighting and Ned really knew how to play to the camera. He could be—or more accurately I guess he was—a certified porn star. “I go by suck_boy_prime on Chaturbate.” He flipped to another photo of himself doing just that, his wet lips wrapped around a decent-sized prick with his cheeks sunken in. “You have to have a brand or the viewers stop coming.” He laughed slightly, adding, “Literally.”

“What’s Chaturbate?” Hoppy asked.

“There’s a ton of sites online for live streams of guys, but mostly girls, doing sex stuff. It’s not everyone’s cup of warm cocoa, but I do okay. Plus I enjoy it, I… kind of get off having people watching me. I’m sort of a whore like that.”

I put my hand forward and shook his. “Welcome to the club.” He laughed. “I’m also a whore, but I guess I’m more of a traditional whore. I like fucking people in person, though I can see the attraction of broadcasting yourself.”

Ned shook his short-cropped head and smiled. “I started doing it as a joke, to be honest, until I realized I got off on it. Edging, fucking myself with increasingly large dildos. I mean, yeah, a lot of it is an act but every once in a while everything clicks, the audience is into it, I’m into it, the tokens are chiming like an insistent UPS delivery dude and I’m fucking losing my shit. I did a show with this other dude once? He was cute but not like…” He looked at Hoppy’s insane muscular perfection. “Anyway, we sucked each other, fucked each other, I licked his ass, he licked my ass, did some foot fetish junk. Views through the roof! Tokens raining down like… rain I guess.” He looked at us and said, “Some of the regulars who hang out in my chat room are really cool, and everyone likes a good fuck, right?”

“I would agree with that assessment,” I said, “but then again I’m a whore.”

“Anyway, my point is that I’ve taken on bigger fish than that one, though they weren’t actually attached to anyone and they weren’t gonna blow a load in my ass, like I hope to fuck you will.”

I liked Ned a lot. Then again I would pretty much liked anyone who had a dildo collection that belonged in the Smithsonian. But even Ned probably wasn’t prepared for what Hoppy could do. “Before you get started, can I offer some advice?”

“Sure, I’m always open to learning things, particularly about dick.”

“Let Hoppy lick your hole first. Well, lick is probably an understatement. But… show him your tongue, Hoppy.” My boyfriend of several hours smiled, opened his mouth, and stuck out his tongue. And stuck it out further. And stuck it out further. Then he wagged it, and wiggled it, and made it move like a suspiciously sexy snake that wanted to be inside Ned’s butt.

“Holy… shit.”

“I know, right? He’s just a treasure trove of surprises!”

“I like licking bukks,” Hoppy explained, his tongue moving around like a vine searching for purchase.

“And he’s exceptionally skilled at it,” I added, setting my hand on his shoulder and attempting to squeeze it, finding instead a rocky muscular mountain range that would not be squeezed.

“Turns out I like getting fucked, too,” Hoppy added happily, pulling his tongue back inside his mouth.

“Turns out?”

“We’re still exploring,” I explained.

“Oh!” Ned looked honestly surprised, “I just assumed from the way we met…”

“You mean when Hoppy greeted you with his drooling hard-on waving at you like a third leg?”

“Yeah, that.”

“We’re very open minded,” I said.

“Very,” Hoppy agreed.

“Good to know,” Ned said softly, still staring at Hoppy’s amazing colossus. “So, rimming, mutual fucking, anything else?”

“Do you have a menu?” I asked, glibly.

“Everything is available,” he answered. “Appetizers, entrees, desserts. Aperitifs and digestifs. You name it, I got it.”

“When do I get to eat him out?” Hoppy asked.

“No time like the present!” I said, moving behind him and shoving him at the small naked man masturbating in the entrance to the bedroom.

Hoppy looked back at me. “Are you coming?”

I looked down. “Not presently.”

“I’m serious!”

“You’re obviously in good hands,” I assured him. “I can come in and watch.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Ned nearly groaned. He reached his free hand out and wrapped it around Hoppy’s prick. “I want your boyfriend to watch you fuck me while he strokes his cock and tries to imagine how good I’m feeling. I want him to see your face when you push that beautiful cock inside my ass and start coming so hard that you threaten to eject me off the end of it like a popped cork. I want him to hear us moan in complete and utter sexual ecstasy and ache to be both of us together as you fuck the living fuck out of me.”

After a moment of stunned silence, I said, “Whoa.”

“I agree,” Hoppy agreed. His cock held in Ned’s grip started doing its crazy and amazing throbbing and Ned’s mouth fell open.

“What. Is. That?”

The throbbing stopped. “Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize! Do it again!”

Hoppy did it again. “It’s simply a matter of increasing control over one’s rectal muscles. Like this.” He showed Ned the same insanely quick finger wagging he’d demonstrated to me. “The puborectal and pubococcygeal. The piriformis and the anal hiatus. There’s a lot to work with. And with a little practice you should be able to achieve something similar.” I mean, I loved Hoppy but sometimes he knew how to take the sex out of sexy.

The throbbing increased in scope and speed as Hoppy demonstrated exactly how much control he possessed over his rectal muscles until his foot-high (or more than foot-high now?) cock started to vibrate in Ned’s grip. Unlike an actual vibrator it made no sound, no humming or anything, but Ned’s aggressive moaning would probably have drowned that out, anyway.

As I accompanied Hoppy and Ned back into the bedroom, with Ned’s hand seemingly glued to Hoppy’s vibrating dick, I asked him, “So, suck_boy_supreme?”

“suck_boy_prime,” he corrected softly.

“I presume that means you enjoy and know how to suck a cock.”

“Boss level cocksucker,” he reported. “No gag reflex. Like, none. Some say it’s my superpower.”

I almost mentioned my fuckdar but refrained for the moment. “Good to know,” I reported. I stopped at the doorway and watched Ned pulling Hoppy by his throbbing prick towards the bed. Ned had an excellent butt. He was what some would call a muscle Twink, with a well-defined body, a flat belly with a hint of a six-pack, very pink nipples, almost no body hair, and very smooth skin that practically glowed. He had short-cropped sandy brown hair, a clean-shaven face with slightly soft features, and very large eyes the color of a perfectly made latte.

The first thing was getting Hoppy out of his Winter Soldier outfit. Ned seemed very reluctant to let Hoppy’s vibrating cock loose so Hoppy started stripping himself of the clinging clothes, struggling a bit to pry the material from his many huge muscular bulges. The top came off first, revealing Hoppy’s furry pecs and insanely wide shoulders, and then he tried pushing the pants off but Ned’s death grip on his cock was making that even more awkward. “Can you let go for a minute?” he asked.

“I’m not sure if I can,” Ned reported. “I think I’m in love.”

Hoppy looked at me pleadingly so I went in and got on my knees behind him to pull those pants off his body. His ass was a thing of perfect beauty and stripping the black material off it to reveal its gorgeous muscular size and shape. I took the opportunity to lean in and push my tongue between his glutes, tasting his sweaty masculine tang and eliciting a deeply satisfied moan from Hoppy’s chest. He even pushed his butt towards me wanting more, but I slapped him hard and said “don’t be greedy.”

“I want you to fuck me while I fuck Ned,” he groaned.

“I’ll add it to the list,” I responded.

Ned’s face peeked around Hoppy’s muscular bulk wide-eyed and open-mouthed, so I said, “Yes, okay, I will fuck Hoppy while Hoppy fucks you.”

“Oh. My. God,” Ned moaned. “I wish I had my camera to record this.”

“You want to stream us streaming cum?”

“No, just for me. So I can rewatch it over and over while I fuck myself with Big Red and remember every amazing moment of this evening.”

“Ah,” I said.

With Hoppy (awkwardly) achieving nudity, we were now all naked and randy as hell. My dick was rock hard and I hadn’t even touched it. Hoppy’s was so stiff it was shiny, like the skin could hardly hold it inside, and he was leaking a thick stream of pre that flowed down the engorged shank of his shaft and gathered on his fat, roiling balls.

I sat down in a chair in the corner of the bedroom and started stroking myself as I watched the huge, muscular, insanely handsome man and the small, sinewy, highly aroused small man facing each other at the foot of the unmade bed. The room was still charged up with an invisible fog of Hoppy’s intense sexual redolence which was increasing now that Hoppy was back to full power.

Ned was sliding his hand slowly up and down Hoppy’s pre-slick cock which was still vibrating. Ned leaned forward, stuck out his tongue and applied it to the drooling tip of Hoppy’s monster, then pushed his lips against the spongy head and sucked off some thick strings of honey noisily. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” he moaned, tasting Hoppy’s erotically charged honey on his tongue and swallowing it down thickly.

“Can I lick your asshole?” Hoppy asked politely.

“Throw me on the bed,” Ned instructed.

“What?”

“Pick me up and throw me on the bed. Then pull my ass open and eat me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I smiled to keep from laughing. There was a giant, muscular, furry, gorgeous, naked man with a huge, throbbing, drooling cock who looked like if Sebastian Stan and Henry Cavill had a nearly seven-foot tall muscle baby standing in front of me but that was also Hoppy. And Hoppy, the ex-virgin, seemed to be getting a sudden tutorial in dominance and subservience.

I knew Ned would be better at this than I. He was a performer, so he basically did this for a living. He didn’t know Hoppy the same way I did—in fact, he didn’t know Hoppy at all, he only saw this huge hung superhero whose dick vibrates like a sex toy and who smells like raw fucking.

I was thinking about the relationship when Hoppy picked up Ned like he weighed nothing at all and tossed him onto the bed. Then Hoppy crawled onto the edge, making the mattress complain at his muscular weight, and took Ned’s ankles in his large hands and opened him like a cooked chicken.

Hoppy literally licked his lips and then pushed his face between Ned’s legs and started using that insane eel of a tongue on the young cam streamer.

Ned was surprisingly vocal. Maybe that was also a result of his other career. When you have an audience, you probably need to let them know what you’re feeling, to bring them closer in to the action and feel like they’re in the room with you. He was groaning and squirming and mouthing “oh, fuck” a lot. Which, come to think of it was probably my reaction to discovering Hoppy’s tongue talents as well.

I have to admit that I was more than a little jealous watching them, which more or less ratified Ned’s earlier dirty thoughts about watching my boyfriend with another dude and knowing exactly what he felt. A thrill of erotic anticipation shook me and I groaned loud enough that Hoppy looked over, his mouth smeared with spit and ass juice, licking his lips lustily.

I nearly came right there. Fuck, that was hot!

Hoppy’s big bubble butt was thrust into the air as he bent his head towards Ned’s happy hole, wagging like a happy dog’s tail. His perfect pink hole was winking at me like an invitation. I was very tempted to apply my own tongue to Hoppy’s butt and lick him as he was licking Ned, almost as if his rimming was happening to his own ass, although my tongue talents could never measure up to his. But I wanted Hoppy and Ned to have this to themselves—and watching it was an education in itself.

Because when you’re under Hoppy’s control, you kind of lose yourself to him. His new body was designed for pleasure. I mean, his fucking cock vibrated! His tongue can paint the inside of your ass like Da Vinci! His skin feels like silk and his muscles feel like steel! And then he’ll toss you like a rag doll onto a bed and fuck you into heaven.

His big dick plowing your ass or his big tongue pushing inside you or his massive, warm, furry chest pressed against yours or his thickly muscled arms wrapped around you or his soft, warm lips pressed against yours—it was all overwhelming. So sitting back, stroking my dick, watching Hoppy pleasure Ned and watching Ned suffering Hoppy’s perfect erotic attacks was insane.

At some point I heard Ned’s groans of “oh, fuck” change to groans of “fuck me” though I wasn’t entirely sure if that was an exclamation or an entreaty. Whatever the case, it seemed that Hoppy was just as anxious to fuck Ned as Ned was anxious to be fucked by Hoppy, and I watched Hoppy lift his shaggy head away from Ned’s hole and sit up, pointing the drooling head of his monster cock at Ned’s well-prepared hole.

“Fuck me,” Ned moaned. “Fuck me, please, fuck me.” He was squirming and writhing in absolute bliss. His head twisted on his neck and his open mouth was gaspng and sucking in air as Hoppy held his ankles in his hands and pivoted his hips to guide the dirigible of his prick into Ned’s hanger. I marveled at the size and beauty of Hoppy’s butt, two vast muscular globes positioned like engines ready to shove that thick, throbbing, hard hunk of sex meat home. His balls were heavy and hanging low, pulsing like cum pumps.

As Hoppy began to push himself inside Ned’s butt, his cock started vibrating and pulsing and he closed his eyes and groaned deeply. A thick, sudden wave of Hoppy’s patented sex sensation enveloped my naked body and I started pumping cum whether I wanted to or not. Ned was calling out the name of various deities and holy figures as Hoppy invaded his hole with his insane throbbing and drooling monster and then he was inside, pushing his ball sack against Ned’s ass crack and his vibrator cock against Ned’s prostate.

I know I promised that I would fuck Hoppy while Hoppy fucked Ned but there was no way my body was going to obey any coherent thoughts, much less manage to balance myself over Hoppy’s magnificent body and shove my already-exploding dick inside his magic butt. I was gasping for air, grasping the arms of the chair I was in, pumping fat explosions of cream all over myself and bathed in hot, wet waves of Hoppy sex.

Ned, frankly, lost it. How could he not? Hoppy’s massive prick was lodged deep inside his butt and vibrating like a fucking sex toy. I knew how it felt but I was still pumping my own cum fountains all over my belly and chest, trying just to breathe.

It was like Hoppy was pushing cum out of Ned’s balls. He started to fuck the shaking, moaning, ecstatic young man and with every thrust, a fresh supply of cream would erupt from Ned’s prick and splatter against his torso.

A lot was happening. I was pumping cream, Ned was exploding cream, Hoppy’s vibrating dick was shoving against Ned’s prostate, Ned was in a state of perpetual sexual bliss when Hoppy groaned, “It’s happening,” again!

I attempted to focus the part of my brain not currently overwhelmed with sexual release to watch Hoppy as he started gushing streams of cum inside Ned’s buzzing butt hole. I felt—I knew—he was going to grow again. We were all overwhelmed by what was happening and from what I understood about Hoppy’s unique predicament, he could not control when or how much his body was now responding to “positive experiences.” And this was among the most satisfying sexual experiences of my life and I was only peripherally involved, if at all.

Hoppy tossed his shaggy head back and opened his mouth and uttered, “oh, fuuuuuuuuck” from the depth of his soul. He pushed himself all the way into Ned’s ass, bent over the smaller man’s body, set his hands on the bed besides Ned’s body and I watched him shudder and swell as he started to cum and grow.

I wondered if Ned even realized what was happening. Thick waves of cum were being pumped inside him like a warm, sticky flood of sex. Hoppy was slowly, strongly fucking Ned’s ass, shifting his narrow hips, pulling his monster cock out a few inches, pausing as his body shook with bliss, then shoving himself back in as he came, pushing his prick through the fresh deluge of his creamy delivery and swelling with growth.

The bed suddenly lurched and made some strange, un-bedlike noises and I knew what was coming next. Pounds of fresh muscle were magically swelling on Hoppy’s body, adding to his already impressive bulk. He was groaning and coming and swelling in almost clocklike surges, shoving a thick load of cream from his massive, throbbing hard-on and then, almost immediately, I could see fresh cables and fibers of muscular development rise under his smooth, warm skin.

Then Hoppy groaned “fuck, yessssssss” and pushed himself into Ned’s ass to the hilt and his butt cheeks swelled and pushed against each other and his back widened and his arms expanded and veins rose and pulsed under his skin and the bed collapsed to the floor under the weight of Hoppy’s swelling muscularity.

Hoppy’s final push was enormous and powerful, and his body looked like it grew two sizes bigger, like the Grinch’s heart on Christmas. Knowing what I knew about him, I was almost scared to look at Hoppy’s face after the latest surge. Would I even be able to stand the beauty of his features? How perfectly gorgeous could a man become?

Hoppy straightened up, his cock still deep inside Ned, and stretched his neck, reaching up to grab a nipple in each hand and twisting and rubbing them as he groaned like an ogre and his body settled into its new size. “Mmm, yes,” he moaned, as his hand reluctantly left his fat nipples and he raised his arms and flexed them into power. His biceps were visibly throbbing with power, stacking themselves higher with muscle. More muscle stretched along his arms, multiplying and swelling, and then his back was widening and his shoulders were expanding as he grew more powerful by the second.

He groaned deeply as the muscular development and growth subsided and his body settled into its new size and power. He lowered his arms as his hands began to wander all over his body, cupping his pecs and tracing the space between his abs and pushing his fingers through the warm sweatiness of his chest hair.

Then he seemed to remember that his cock was inside someone else and he looked down and with a tenderness that looked incongruous from a man built so large and powerful, he caressed Ned’s cum-frosted belly and chest, humming softly.

He started to pull himself from Ned’s ass when Ned, his eyes closed and his torso coated in streams of cum, whispered “Don’t. You feel so good inside. You make me feel so good.” Hoppy planted his hands on either side of Ned’s small body and leaned down, pushing his lips against Ned’s mouth and kissing him.

I didn’t know how much time had actually passed. Was it an hour or a minute? And now we owed the hotel for a broken bed, too. Which, to me, was both something to boast about and be embarrassed about at the same time.

Hoppy looked over at me and smiled, and holy fucking fuck, people! If I hadn’t just blown a gasket fountaining cum all over myself I’d start doing it all over again. It really wasn’t fair that a man could look like Hoppy looked. “Thank you,” he said.

“Thank me? I think Ned did all the hard work.” My eyes scanned his body hungrily, marveling at all the newly developed brawn. “You grew again.”

He smiled awkwardly. “I know.” He looked down at himself, moving his hands over his bigger muscles again, and groaned softly. “Feels good.”

“Looks good,” I said.

He laughed slightly and wiggled that huge, perfect butt. “I’m still horny,” he reported.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

He shrugged slightly and smirked awkwardly. “Still horny,” he reiterated.

“How’s he doing?” I asked, nodding towards Ned.

“Oh my god,” Ned moaned. “Holy shit.”

“How’re you doing?” I repeated for Ned’s benefit.

He rubbed his eyes and tried sitting up, but then fell back into bed. “Holy shit.”

“Hoppy can be intense,” I offered.

“Can I have my dick back?” Hoppy asked. He did something—probably involving making his cock vibrate—and Ned’s eyes snapped open.

“Holy shit. I want you to just stay where you are. I want to keep feeling you fuck me. I want to keep coming and coming and coming. I’ve never felt so… good.”

“Well, you did say you were still horny,” I added helpfully to Hoppy.

His eyebrows rose and he seemed to consider it for a moment. Then he looked down and started re-fucking Ned’s ass, very slowly, and very carefully, pivoting his hips and pelvis, sliding himself in and out of Ned’s hole with leisurely, luxurious strokes. Ned’s small body—which now looked ludicrously small beneath Hoppy’s massive muscular bulk—shook with bliss and he began to moan and groan anew.

“He’s right, you know,” Hoppy remarked to me. “This does feel good.”

“Probably, but unlike your remarkable libido and fortitude the rest of us need a little recovery time. We don’t want to break him, do we?”

“Is that… possible?”

I whispered conspiratorially, “You just grew more muscle and a longer cock and you’re asking me if it’s possible to overwhelm someone with sex? And the answer is yes.”

He laughed softly and began repositioning his bulk on the broken bed to pull himself out of Ned’s overworked butt. Thick inch after massive inch after motherfucking amazing inch of cock emerged slowly, wet and slick and shiny with cum and spit and ass juice.

It just kept coming and coming and coming—emerging like an anaconda from its hole—until the head emerged with an audible wet pop. And almost as soon as he was entirely free of Ned’s hungry butt, Hoppy’s monster started to pulse and throb and rise anew, displaying that just as Hoppy told me, the man was still horny.

Hoppy grasped himself and started stroking almost before he was even free of Ned’s ass. Pulsating torrents of intense Hoppy-scented sex waves were throbbing from him. The room looked like a cyclone had hit it, Hurricane Hoppy.

“I can’t move,” Ned reported.

“You really can’t move or you don’t want to move?” I asked.

“I’m not sure there’s a difference.”

“How much is a bed?” Hoppy asked, moving his bulk off the edge of the mattress and standing over the bed, observing the results of his muscular fucking and growth. He stood there, a towering swollen mass of perfectly developed muscle, leisurely stroking his hard-on with slick, wet caresses and apparently performing some math in his head. “I wonder if we could replace it and they wouldn’t notice.”

“I think they’d notice a mattress, box spring and broken bed frame being removed from their hotel.”

“Holy shit, we broke the bed,” Ned realized.

“They’ll just add it to your bill,” I told Hoppy. “Probably a couple of thousand.”

“Five thousand,” Ned corrected softly. He was still coherent, amazingly.

“For a bed?” Hoppy asked, still stroking.

Ned nodded. “They sell them.”

“I like how you two guys broke a bed fucking and you’re debating the cost of the fucking bed.”

Ned opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows, his slight abs flexing into power, and looked at Hoppy. If he noticed that Hoppy was bigger than when they started, he didn’t mention it. “Holy shit, are you jerking off?”

Hoppy looked down. “I seem to be, yes.”

“How can you still be jerking off after that?”

“I’m incorrigible,” Hoppy reported.

Ned looked at Hoppy’s hard-on and his eyes widened. “I can’t believe what that thing can do. It was like having a fucking vibrator inside me.”

“Not to mention the flood of cum those fat balls pump out,” I added helpfully.

“Who’s going to fuck me?” We both looked at Hoppy with our mouths open. He looked at us in turn and added, “Or a blow job. I’d be happy with either one.”

Ned almost laughed, huffing out a guffaw instead. “Well, I am fucking spent, dudes. I mean, I can edge for hours online and then cum on demand in a private sesh but holy Jesus and Mary and all the saints, I have never experienced anything like that!”

Hoppy looked at me concerned so I said, “That’s a compliment.”

“Fucking yes that’s a compliment! Holy fuck!” Ned sighed and shook his head as he watched my boyfriend stroking his still-hard hard-on and then his eyes widened and he fell back on the broken bed, pointing a finger at Hoppy. “Holy fuck! You’re bigger!”

Hoppy looked down and his naked body colored as he blushed. “Maybe. A little.”

“No, dude, you’re a lot bigger! And look at your chest! And your arms! And your abs! And your dick! And your face! Holy fuck!”

Hoppy’s blush of embarrassment deepened and he looked over at me, though he did not pause in his strokes I noticed. I shrugged and said, “Well, you are.”

He looked back at Ned and said, “Yes, I am bigger.” His hand was almost wrapped around the shaft of his dick—it was thicker than his large fingers could grip, now—and he was rubbing the pad of his thumb over the drooling mouth of his larger dick.

“Holy fuck!”

“Hoppy is special,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“I guess so!” Ned agreed. “Holy fuck! Are you, like, an X-Men or something? Is your mutant power the power of fucking? Like how your dick does that? And then when you fuck you get bigger?”

“That’s… actually not far from the truth,” I offered.

“I’m not an X-Man. There’s no such thing as X-Men. But I have a certain… genetic disposition that will sometimes yield exponential muscular development and additional height when certain conditions are met.”

I marveled (heh) that Hoppy could continue jerking off as he attempted in dry scientific language to explain why he sometimes grew muscle and became more physically beautiful when he came. All Ned said in response, predictably, was “Holy fuck!” And then he added, “You could have warned me or something!”

I laughed. “How would we have warned you? ‘Oh, by the way, Hoppy might grow more muscular and handsome when his amazing vibrating cock starts exploding so much cum inside your ass that you’ll think a cum dam has burst’?”

“Well… yes?”

“Okay, I’ll make a note for next time.”

Hoppy looked at my with one eyebrow arched. “Next time?”

“Did you forget that I promised to fuck you while you fucked Ned?”

“Actually, I did.” He licked his lips and his cock started throbbing like it does.

But Ned huffed out an exhausted breath and said, “I need a time out after that. I feel like I was fucked by a jackhammer and came so much cum that my balls shriveled to raisins.”

Hoppy, still stroking and rubbing himself, looked at Ned’s balls. “Not from this angle,” he responded helpfully.

“Oh my god,” Ned sighed. “That was epic.”

I sat back and assessed the damage. Both Ned and I were coated in massive deliveries of our own cum. The bed was broken beyond repair. The room was still overheated with Hoppy’s intense sex stink—he was probably still pumping it out in heavy waves from the way he was jerking that massive shank of raw sex that was sprouting between his insanely muscular legs—and poor Ned, the professional sex cammer, was worn out after just one Hoppy fuck session. I was feeling pretty tired myself, and then there was Hoppy.

He stood there at the foot of the bed slowly stroking his foot-high, inches thick, continually drooling erection. He had the body of a god, insanely beautiful and powerful. The muscles flexed and bulged as he slowly caressed himself, in a manner that was both a testament to his strength and a display of raw sexuality.

Then something occurred to me that sent a shiver through my naked, sticky body and made my brain spin inside my skull. Hoppy said that the biggest changes occurred during sleep, when his body was resting and allowed to repair and improve itself.

It was night. I was tired. Ned was tired. Hoppy was horny—but he’d have to go to sleep soon, too.

What was going to happen overnight? What was I going to wake up next to in that broken bed when Hoppy’s body was allowed to rebuild itself? Hoppy admitted that he wasn’t entirely sure what unlocking the evolutionary progress inside him would mean, or where it would lead, or how much he could change and improve. He’d grown so much already in the space of one day spent in nearly continuous sexual encounters, maybe more than he expected and certainly to the extent that even Ned—who never even met him before—could notice it.

Rather than face that little quandary, I decided to ignore it and clean up as much of the mess we’d made as possible. “I’m gonna shower,” I said. “I’m all cummy.”

“Same,” Ned said, staring at the ceiling. He still seemed dazed from the most recent revelations concerning Hoppy’s magically growing body.

“And then I’m going to attempt to reassemble something resembling a bed out of that wreck and grab some shut-eye.”

Ned sat up. “I should go,” he said.

“You can stay with us tonight if you want to. Unless you have a cam session you need to attend.”

“I doubt I can even get it up after that.” Then he watched Hoppy jerking his massive, pre-slicked meat for a few moments and this prick twitched. “Then again…”

“But… I’m still horny,” Hoppy almost whined. “What if we fuck once more—that double-fuck thing?—and then shower? Why get cleaned up if we’re just gonna get… cummy again?”

“Hoppy,” I said, “I love you, but I’m with Ned on this one. I just can’t keep up. I need to clean up and get some rest. I’ve come so much today that I don’t have any cum left.”

Ned said to me, with his gaze locked on Hoppy leisurely jerking, “I mean, if you want to shower first I’m happy to wait.”

I shook my head, laughing slightly. “You want him to fuck you? Again?”

“I… wouldn’t complain if Hoppy somehow found his way inside my butt and started vibrating like he does. I mean, if that would, like, help him. I hate seeing a guy who didn’t get fully satisfied after being with me.”

“I’m not sure ‘fully satisfied’ is possible in Hoppy’s case.”

“I’m standing right here,” Hoppy added.

“Yeah, you’re kind of hard to miss,” I answered. “If you want to go for round two, I’m not going to stop you. Maybe show off your superpower and suck him off? Just a suggestion.”

“Would you?” Hoppy asked politely.

“Would I? Fuck yes, I would! Assuming my jaw can unhinge itself.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said. “The way Hoppy’s dick can vibrate? He’s got a few other tricks up his sleeve or whatever.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hoppy agreed, as if only now remembering our earlier fellatio. “Although I’m somewhat bigger now, of course.”

“Of course,” I agreed. Because he was.

I stood up and felt the cooling cum on my belly start to drip down my legs. “Well, you two have fun. Try not to break anything else. I’m going to take advantage of all the fresh towels and get cleaned up.”

Ned sat up and started crawling across the bed towards Hoppy as I left the bedroom and went into the shower room. I sort of wanted to watch this, too, because I’d never seen a man with the power of super cocksucking take on the biggest cock in the state and perhaps the country. As I turned on the water I could hear both men moaning epically and knew that Hoppy was in good hands—or mouth, as the case may be.

As I stood in the hot water pouring over my naked skin, I started contemplating Hoppy’s situation and just how big he was going to get. How tall was that tallest guy ever again? Eight feet? Nine feet? What would a nine-foot tall muscular Hoppy look like? How big was that cock going to get? And how was I—or anyone—expected to satisfy a man with a colossal cock, perpetually cum-filled balls and a seemingly unlimited libido?

I was standing in the shower with my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, when I felt a hand grab my ass and squeeze, and a finger rubbing my hole, and a mouth kissing my neck. Time had again seemed to just drain away. A huge muscular body pressed itself against my back, the furry pecs like two massive and firm pillows, and I could feel something thick and hard (still hard!) and hot pushing itself between my butt cheeks. “Hi, Hulkster” Hoppy whispered into my ear, his whisker-stubbled chin on my shoulder. His arms surrounded me and his right hand crawled down my body and found my dick, surrounding it and squeezing it tenderly.

“Hi, Hoppy,” I responded, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with me. His hand was so huge that he could hold my dick and balls in his palm. I knew he was probably strong enough to crush concrete into dust, but his ministrations with my equipment were tender and careful.

“I love you,” he said. And he kissed my neck again.

“I love you, too,” I answered.

Because I did.

And I knew now that I would do anything for him.

We managed to all lie in the broken bed, Hoppy, Ned and I. Hoppy impressed me in two ways; firstly, he managed to lift and move the huge California king-sized mattresses all by himself, and watching his back, shoulder, and arm muscles flex and bulge was an amazing experience. Secondly, he made the bed carefully and completely, using new sheets that Ned retrieved for us to replace the wet, cum-soaked ones. Watching this huge, muscular man so carefully and delicately make the bed kind of made me horny.

I mean, the dude was also naked, so that helped.

Once we settled in, Hoppy was in the middle, his huge frame dominating the mattress, his feet stretching off the end, cradling me in his arms. He felt hard as a rock, but his skin was silky and being held within his embrace made me feel safe and loved. It was unusual for me, being six-one and pretty big myself to feel overwhelmed by another man, but I was growing to really enjoy it. Probably Hoppy being so sweet and caring helped. He was an alpha male and could easily dominate any situation or person, but his demeanor remained the high school Hoppy I knew so long ago.

Ned was behind him, making little cooing sounds as he slept. I imagined that he was dreaming about being fucked by Bruce Banner who turned into the Hulk as he came, swelling with insane amounts of muscle as his veiny monster cock throbbed and pulsed.

I was dead tired but couldn’t sleep after the day’s many surprising turns. How could I have imagined what was in store for me when I entered this hotel room yesterday? How could anyone?

Hoppy’s arms tightened around me and he groaned deeply, like thunder. I wondered if he also had evolution-augmented dreams, and what they were like.

To be honest, another reason I wasn’t sleeping was that I wanted to watch Hoppy grow and evolve again, assuming that was going to happen. He explained that it wasn’t a nightly activity and, having already experience at least two rounds of development in the last 24 hours, the likelihood that we’d all wake up to a newer, bigger, more improved Hoppy wasn’t high.

As we settled into the bed together, Hoppy explained, “It’s more likely that any change that occur might be internal, or merely superficial.”

“Internal?” I asked.

“Well, to be blunt, today was the first time I’ve ever been fucked. Which, I think I made clear, I really enjoyed. Since joy, satisfaction, and gratification are all positive influences, and I experienced all three very… profoundly, it’s more probable that whatever my body experienced internally of a positive nature will be augmented or amplified.”

“Like… how?” Ned asked, genuinely interested. “Like, I didn’t get to fuck you so I don’t have any direct experience. But I can certainly verify that being fucked by you is also highly joyful, satisfying, and gratifying.”

“Well, having fucked him,” I told Ned, “I can’t even imagine how it could be better than it already is.”

“Better than the vibrating dick?” he asked incredulously. “Because the vibrating dick is prime.”

“Hoppy’s butt feels like fucking a very deep, very warm, very agreeable mouth that engulfs your whole prick, massaging and squeezing your cock and practically sucking the cum from your balls.”

“Honestly, it makes me wish I could fuck myself,” Hoppy reported. Maybe one day he could!

“What? Whoa. What?” Ned looked at Hoppy and said, “Why didn’t I get to fuck you?”

“How much time have you got?”

Ned was still making those soft whimpering sounds and Hoppy was growling like a hibernating bear when I got up to pee. The toilet was in a small room next to the giant shower, but the whole place still smelled strongly of Hoppy’s personal sex cologne. Just walking into the bathroom made my balls tingle and my cock throb. “Fuck,” I whispered, wondering if they’d have to fumigate the penthouse after we left just to try to extract that funky, sexy, deeply satisfying masculine tang that stung the nostrils and made your libido needle fly into the red zone. I needed to take a piss badly but now my dick was surging back to life whether I wanted it to or not, and I stood there hovering over the toilet with a fresh hard-on in my hand trying to point the damned thing downward, but it would not budge.

I heard movement behind me and Hoppy was there, a towering V-shaped shadow. “I felt you get up.”

“Trying to pee,” I explained softly.

“Me, too. Wait, trying to?” He came up directly behind me. I could feel heat pouring off his huge naked body like a furnace.

I turned around to display my erection to him. “I walked in and took a whiff of the Hoppy juice in here and…” I gestured down at my cock, which was throbbing with thick beats.

“Hmm,” he said. “You could just urinate in the shower, if this is a question of direction.”

“Seems impractical, but all right.”

He took my place and pointed his thick nine-incher at the bowl and let loose with what sounded like a torrent, humming and sighing softly as he relieved himself. I went into the shower-room area and turned on a spigot, then stood there like some weird artwork fountaining a yellow stream of my own in a high arch.

Even after relieving myself, my hard-on refused to budge. Hoppy’s sex aroma had lodged itself in my nostrils and was humping my libido like a dog in heat. Wisps of steam were gathering as condensation on my skin and I closed my eyes and just let myself sink deeper inside the sensation of sex that Hoppy left behind him like exhaust from a rumbling Harley. He came up behind me again and asked, “How’s it going?”

“Still hard,” I reported.

“Funny,” he said, “so am I.”

I turned and looked down—although the head of his dick was nearly at eye level now—and, sure enough, there it was, that mammoth shank of thick, hard sex standing straight up and throbbing. “So I see,” I said.

“Was there… anything we could do about this?”

“You mean my hard-on and your hard-on?”

“Exactly.”

“You really are incorrigible.”

He licked his palm with that insanely long tongue of his and reached forward, wrapping his slick hand around my prick. “If you weren’t so sexy this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“So this is all my fault, said the man who pumps out pheromones like an orchid in a hothouse.”

“Technically, orchids don’t have pheromones,” he reported, moving his grip slowly up and down my cock. “Only animals. And some insects.”

“Not humans?”

He stroked me as he looked down at my cock. “It’s actually up for discussion. Humans value cleanliness and deodorants very highly. We tend to want to mask anything that smells… fragrant.” He squeezed me.

I went up on my toes. The room was growing increasingly foggy again. “Feels like a shame to me.”

Hoppy lifted his free arm, placing his hand behind his neck, and opening up his dark, sweaty pit towards me. His biceps bulged like a softball mounted on his arm. His thick, muscular lat spread out like a wing under his arm. His bright blue eyes twinkled in the darkness. “I think I smell nice, don’t you?”

“Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Who?”

The Graduate? Dustin Hoffman? Anne Bancroft? Your cultural knowledge is sorely lacking.” I sounded mad but really I was just trying not to come.

He moved closer. “Maybe you could teach me.” He pushed his regal, handsome node into his sweaty, furry pit and sucked in a thick scent of his earthy, sexy aroma. “Fuck,” he whispered, then he stuck out that long tongue and licked sweat from his hairy armpit.

He was turning himself on, which is one of my very favorite things to watch. Men who stroke their dicks and grunt and moan and rub their own holes and get very dirty playing with their own bodies. He was stroking me, sending shivers of erotic power through my loins and into my body while he licked and sniffed himself, his own prick throbbing hard and stiff. He moaned deeply, obviously growing more deeply aroused by the second.

I soaped up my palms and put both my hands around his thick erection and ran them down the length of his shaft. He pumped up a thick delivery of pre as if it had been waiting in his cock, and it poured down over my fingers like warm honey. He groaned again and licked more sweat onto his tongue, pulling the salty earthiness inside his mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed it, groaning some more.

“Feel good?” I asked softly. He nodded. “Are you holding back?” He nodded again. “Don’t,” I told him. “Let it all go. Feel how massive you are. Feel how powerful, how sexy, how fucking beautiful you are.”

He groaned, a deeply satisfying rumble, and a thick wave of heat struck me and nearly drove me to my knees. Holy fuck, he’d been holding all that back? We were in a god damned shower washing away everything and I could still feel and smell and sense his intense sexuality wash over my like a tsunami. A sex tsunami.

Teach him? Okay then. Time, I thought, for our next lesson.

“Did you enjoy throwing Ned onto the mattress?” He silently nodded, his face still pushed into his armpit. “What did you like about it?”

“I liked that he liked it,” he said softly. “I liked that I could do it for him.”

“But what about you?” I circled the head of his prick with my hand, polishing the spongey cap. “Did you enjoy feeling powerful? Strong? Muscular?” Another nod and groan. “Look at me.”

Hoppy’s deep blue eyes opened and his gaze met mine. “Take my hands.” He started to do so tenderly, and I corrected, “No. Take them. Take them by the wrist.” His hand was so large now that he could do it easily. “Pull them over my head. Pin me against the wall.”

“I like you stroking me,” he said.

“You might like this better.” He licked his lips and pulled my hands over my head, stretching my body out naked before him. Then he pushed me against the tiles, warmed by the shower and steam. “Take your other hand, and place it behind my neck.” He did so with some reluctance, perhaps unwilling to remove his hand from my prick. “Pull my face into your armpit.”

He began to do it, but I resisted, and he stopped. “I thought… .”

“Pull my face,” I instructed with a more forceful tone, “into your musky, sweaty, dirty armpit. Then tell me what to do.”

He sighed like someone resigned to doing something they didn’t fully understand. Then he started using his epic strength to pull my face into his deep, furry pit. I resisted as much as I could, but there was nothing I could do against his muscles.

When I relented at last, he said, “Lick me.”

A thrill of discovery went through both of us when I started to tenderly, carefully, passionately lick his wet fur, tasting his masculine tang on my tongue, sniffing the deep redolent stink of his musk, groaning with undisguised lust. “Yesssssss,” he hissed. “Now kiss me. I want to taste my sweat on your lips.”

Holy fuck, Hoppy! Looks like we discovered your filthy side!

I moved my face to his and suddenly found myself being lifted off the floor. Hoppy was dangling me by my arms against the wall using one hand! I mean, fuck! My cock sprang to full power and when he pushed his mouth against mine and forced his tongue inside, I felt a sizzle of pre and the warning signs of an imminent orgasm rattle my cock and balls.

He pushed his huge body against mine, pinning me to the wall. The hand that had been holding my face into his sweaty pit was now finding its way around my ass, and I wrapped one leg around his hip to allow him better access.

I felt a warm, fat digit rubbing my butt hole as we kissed and he held me, pinned me, against the tile. It was fruitless to struggle against his size and strength, and anyway I didn’t want to. What I wanted was for Hoppy to discover his own desires, his own carnal yearnings and lustful cravings.

His mouth was hungry for mine, he pushed that long tongue inside me and kissed me with a wildness I hadn’t seen before. His fingers were playing with my hole, rubbing and thrusting and exploring as I lifted my other leg to straddle his hips, feeling our hot, hard pricks rub against each other as he finger fucked me.

He released my hands from his grip—I was pinned there now by his magnificent muscular body pressed against me—and I wrapped them around him like my legs. The kiss was incredible. Then he pulled his mouth away and pushed that marvelous sweaty pit at my face again and I licked and kissed him there, tasting his deep funky tang and musky sharpness while he licked and kissed my neck.

I was overwhelmed and overpowered by him. He could do whatever he wanted with me and I was powerless to stop him. He was discovering new outlets for his limitless and formidable sex drive and I could feel his cock vibrating between us as his passion and lust grew.

“I want to fuck you,” he told me.

“Don’t ask permission,” I breathed huskily. “Tell me you’re going to fuck me.”

“I’m going to fuck you.” He kissed me hard and fast. His fingers pushed inside me. “I’m going to fuck you deep.”

“Fuck me,” I begged. “Fuck me deep.”

I was wrapped around his massive frame and he twisted around, carrying our wet, warm, lust-filled bodies back into the bedroom. He pushed me off him easily, and I flew across the room and landed on the bed next to Ned’s sleeping form.

He awoke with a start and asked, “What the hell?” Rubbing his eyes, he saw Hoppy’s tall shadow standing in the bathroom doorway surrounded with swirls of steam. Hoppy’s eyes looked feral and hungry, glittering like opals. Hoppy was stroking his throbbing monster with slow, steady caresses, his mighty chest rising and falling, glittering with water droplets gathered on his forest of dark curls. He looked like a grizzly who’d suddenly appeared in our room.

A very horny grizzly.

“Oh,” Ned said, “This is happening.”

“Fuck me,” I moaned.

Hoppy strode to the bed like a man on a mission. I’d unlocked something in him, that much was apparent. I could feel thick waves of sex throbbing from his muscular frame and then he was climbing onto the broken bed, crawling towards my naked body.

This was all Hoppy, I decided. No more guiding, no more instructions. Hoppy leaned down and started licking my hole, grabbing one ankle in each hand and pulling me open for his mouth. Ned, wide-eyed, climbed or fell off the bed and had started to stroke his own reawakened hard-on, watching in mute awe as this huge, handsome, named, sweaty, wet man started having his way with me.

I was squirming and moaning in ecstasy. Hoppy was groaning and slurping my butt and balls lustily. Ned was whimpering softly as he watched. Then Hoppy looked at Ned and instructed, “When I fuck him, you’re going to fuck me.”

“O… Okay,” Ned agreed sheepishly.

“But don’t come,” Hoppy warned.

Ned smiled. “This is a dream, right? I’m dreaming right now.”

Hoppy smiled at him. “Don’t. Come.”

“Jesus Fuck.”

Hoppy was now in charge. Fully in charge. I was already lost in a fog of his sex stink and that magic tongue painting my ass in spit. He prepared me for his massive, magic prick, slurping and groaning and sighing as he licked and fingered and rubbed me until I was shaking with desire.

Hoppy pulled his face from me butt and pushed my legs towards my body, bending me in half until my knees were on my chest and my hole was wide and ready for penetration. He sat up and drooled onto his monster, spreading the spit and pre all over his thick, veiny shaft and mushroom cap helmet. Then he kissed the drooling tip against me and started pushing himself into my well-prepared ass.

My god, I was in heaven. His dick started to throb and pulsate like a drum beat inside me. He was inching his way in, groaning like a grizzly in heat, and I felt the bed shift and realized somewhere in my foggy sex-induced stupor that Ned was standing behind Hoppy’s body, stroking himself and staring at Hoppy’s magic butt hole.

As Hoppy seated his vibrating cock inside me, Ned leaned in and started rimming Hoppy’s ass. Ned started making the kind of noises that someone who really loves eating an ass makes, moaning and slurping and saying filthy things about what he was planning to do to Hoppy’s hungry hole, but my brain was a fog of intense sexual bliss and all I could do was hold on tight for the ride.

Hoppy’s dick was buzzing and sliding in and out of my ass when something changed, and though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was I learned later than when Ned pushed his hard-on into Hoppy’s butt, and Ned was fucking Hoppy while Hoppy fucked me, I started feeling as though I was being double penetrated, distinctly feeling two cocks inside me. Or maybe Hoppy’s cock was so big it just felt like two pricks.

Hoppy leaned in hard, forcing my legs against my body and shoving my face into his furry chest, pointing his muscular butt into the air and opening his hungry hole up for Ned’s attention. Ned leaned in, fucking Hoppy with quick, rhythmic thrusts while Hoppy’s foot-long, inches thick cock was lodged deep inside me, rubbing against my prostate and vibrating with steady, constant pulses.

Ned was pivoting his hips and shoving with strong thrusts. “Aw, fuck,” he kept moaning. “Aw, fuck.” And then, “Gonna come.”

“Don’t come,” Hoppy instructed.

“Feels so good,” Ned groaned. “Gotta fucking come.”

“Don’t come,” Hoppy said. And then he did something, maybe his butt clamped down on Ned’s prick, maybe he started using that magic hole of his to stroke and massage and calm Ned’s prick down or something, but whatever he did made Ned sigh and fall across Hoppy’s wide, muscular back, breathing hard. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered. “Oh, fuck, so good.”

The rocking bed came to a rest with Hoppy’s vibrating dick in my ass making my prostate very happy and Ned’s thrusting having come to a rest as he coped with whatever Hoppy was doing to his prick.

Hoppy was in charge. We were both at his mercy. He was a top and a bottom and giving us both instructions we were more than happy to obey.

I was holding on for dear life. This was overwhelming. Suddenly Hoppy was kissing me and fucking me, and Ned was kissing Hoppy’s neck and trying not to come. Hoppy growled and Ned whimpered and I groaned and it felt like something was building between us all, something powerful and profound and intense. Something beyond mere sex and fucking.

What had I unleashed in the shower? Hoppy was clearly relishing this utter domination of our desires and our bodies, his monster throbbing with insane intensity inside me and his butt caressing and stroking and sucking on Ned’s prick while we all seemed to float in some perfect space between coming and not coming, living on that edge of pure sexual release while we waited for Hoppy’s permission to achieve orgasmic bliss.

“We’re going to come together,” Hoppy instructed. “All at once.”

“Feels so good,” Ned moaned. “Don’t want it to end.”

“I can’t,” I managed to say, “I can’t hold on.”

“Almost there,” Hoppy whispered, and he kissed me. “Almost there.”

Where, I wondered? Almost where? This felt like nirvana. This was paradise. My whole body was being fucked, everything felt good. I could hardly withstand another second of it. Ned was whimpering and moaning, clearly in the throes of a state of bliss as intense as mine. Hoppy’s muscular body seemed to throb like his dick, as if his whole being was getting ready to come.

“Almost there,” he whispered softly.

The room was quiet. We were joined together like some weird, sexy aniMoze, dick to ass to dick to ass, an unbroken fuck chain teetering on the edge of pure euphoric ecstasy.

Hoppy put his lips next to my ear. “Here it comes,” he whispered.

A thrill of excitement was colored with a more subtle pang of fear as I registered Hoppy’s words in my head. I suspected what he meant and I was scared that his dick was about to swell so large that he was going to tear me open with it.

But I was excited as well, imagining the sensation of feeling him growing while he was fucking me.

We had settled into a coupling that felt natural and blissful, with his throbbing cock pushed all the way inside me. I could feel every thick inch of him, from the way he stretched my hole open to the insanely gorgeous vibrations against my prostate to the pumping warmth of his tide of pre that flowed inside my guts. It was like being penetrated by pure sex, like the most perfect fuck in the world.

But I also knew, somewhere in my head, that even Hoppy did not know what was going to happen. His body was going through these phases of improvement as he reached towards human perfection, whatever that was. He had unleashed within himself the potential to erase every limitation and imperfection the human body might be affected by. I had seen with my own eyes—twice in a single day—Hoppy becoming stronger, bigger, sexier, and more handsome in these awe-inspiring waves that accompanied his massive cock pumping thick streams of cum, the action of sexual orgasm triggering changes to his body, continually improving and expanding his strength, size, beauty, and capability.

He’d said sleep triggered the largest changes, and now he was undergoing a double-whammy, or maybe a triple-whammy! Sleep, then fucking, then being fucked, all at the same time!

“Here it comes,” he whispered. Then he groaned. Then I felt a torrent of cum flooding my guts. A vast and beautiful warmth was spreading inside me and Hoppy started fucking me again. Ned was shaken from his reverie and he was keening or shouting, fucking Hoppy’s ass and pumping his own thick load finally free from his overburdened balls.

Then I was coming, all of us coming together on the broken bed in the dark penthouse in a room clouded with steam from the still-going shower, our bodies coated in sweat and condensation, sliding across each other, lodged inside each other, fucking and coming all at once.

I could feel more than see Hoppy’s next evolution. The room was dark and quiet, other than the three of us moaning and keening and gasping for air as intense orgasmic spasms shook all of us together. It felt like Hoppy was pushing gallons of cum inside me, and judging from the sounds Ned was making he was experiencing a similar intense sexual release aided by Hoppy’s sucking ass, draining his balls whether he liked it or not.

Holy fuck, I couldn’t think or act or do much of anything except come and come hard. I was beyond control and I wrapped myself around Hoppy again and could feel him swelling in my embrace.

He was groaning actual words, which I found amazing. My brain could only take a backseat to the pleasure my body was experiencing, but Hoppy was groaning “Fuck yes, so good. Feels so fucking good,” in my ear. His words echoed my own feelings, but my tongue couldn’t form them.

This time his growth was happening in a slow, constant inflation. His muscles were swelling larger. His cock was growing longer and thicker. I could feel his chest expanding with power and his back bulging with a mountain range of muscular bulges. He was going to be fucking starving when this was done, probably requiring an entire barbecued cow and several bushels of vegetables to resupply his new growth.

Hoppy was groaning and sighing with obvious bliss as he swelled larger on top of me. I could feel his dick lengthen and swell as his massive cum release shot into me like a firehose. I knew that I was feeling overwhelmed with sex and passion and lust so I could only imagine what he was feeling. And was Ned even conscious anymore? As Hoppy’s growth continued, I could no longer hear Ned’s voice at all.

The growth was slow but continual. He was packing on new size and strength. I felt his body sliding across mine, our skin lubed with sweat and cum, as he grew taller. His chest was massive and my face was sliding into the deep cleft between the mountainous, furry globes of power. He lifted himself up, arching his back, groaning and stretching. I forced my eyes open against the intense pleasure of our mutual fuck to try to watch him growing.

Holy fuck. Holy motherfucking fuck.

His arms! The biceps looked like footballs. The triceps with massive horseshoes. His shoulders split and rose and split again, as if new muscle groups were forming. His chest was expanding both forward and wider, cables of raw brawn swelling up under the skin like magic.

He was stretching taller. I could see it happening. It was insane and insanely sexy.

He was still coming inside me, slowly pulling his mammoth cock out and then just as slowly sliding himself all the way back in. I could feel cum was pumping out of his prick in thick, heavy stream. I had no idea where it was all going. I wanted to hold it inside me like fuel, to feel this magical process of Hoppy’s growth as somehow also part of me.

Time sped by—probably only a few seconds but it seemed like minutes, as if time slowed down to allow me to watch it happening—as Hoppy grew, and then he shuddered and sighed and stopped coming and growing, his dick stopped vibrating, and he settled against me on the bed. It felt like he weighed a ton. A literal ton. If we were not on a soft mattress, I wondered if he might have accidentally squished me under his newly developed bulk.

“Mmmmm,” he moaned, and kissed me.

“Holy fuck,” I whispered aloud.

“Is it over?” Ned’s voice sounded small and weak—and slightly relieved.

“Yes,” Hoppy acknowledged.

We were locked in our sexy tableau, worn out and deeply satisfied; me on my back on the bed with my knees against my chest, Hoppy on top of me with his fat cock shoved deep inside me, and Ned poised behind Hoppy’s hugeness grasping Hoppy’s hips with his own prick buried in Hoppy’s hole. My belly and chest—and therefore Hoppy’s belly and chest—were coated with my delivery of cream. Cum was oozing out of my hole around Hoppy’s thickness and trickling down my crack. Ned’s cum was dripping over Hoppy’s massive balls and mingling with Hoppy’s load on my butt.

The room, warm and wet from the shower and our shared energetic fucking, smelled like a sweaty ball sack. We were all coated in sweat and cum. The bed was sagging under the weight of the three grown men, one of whom was now even heavier than when he initially broke the fucking thing.

Ned pulled out first, whimpering as tingles of post-sex bliss radiated through his dick from Hoppy’s butt. Then Hoppy was withdrawing the monster from my well-used ass, sounding like someone slurping the dregs of a milkshake, slick and wet and creamy. He was growling and sighing and then he popped free and we all got our first look at what had been developing inside me, which was a fat, dangling, incredibly thick sausage coated in cum with a very full foreskin tightly covering the entire helmet.

Ned and Hoppy crawled off the mattress and stood at the foot of the bed, the differences in their heights and sizes almost too drastic to believe. Even in the darkness of the room, it was apparent that Hoppy was much larger in every way, towering over Ned’s smaller (average height) body by at least a foot and a half. Hoppy said he was 6-10 when I walked into the penthouse, and now he looked well over seven feet tall.

I just laid there in stunned silence and Ned was looking up at Hoppy’s face with his mouth agape and his unblinking eyes wide like saucers. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, but it sounded loud in the otherwise silent room.

The room was like a sauna. The heat of sex and the shower mingled in the air. I was warm and sticky and smelled like cum. My hole had to be gaping open from the assault of Hoppy’s mass. I was worn out, well and truly, and didn’t really want to move. Ned was in a state of shock, apparently, but his dick was, impossibly, starting to show signs of renewed interest as it plumped and throbbed while he stared with open lust at Hoppy.

My magnificent and unbelievable boyfriend offered his hand to me to help me off the bed. I must have looked like hell, or a well-used condom filled with his cum. I groaned with a mingling of satisfaction and utter fatigue. I felt like I’d been fucked by the entire U.S. Navy, or one of its submarines. “Turn on the light,” I asked.

He reached over to the nightstand and switched on the bedside lamp. I flinched at the brightness and then his face came into focus and I gasped. “Are you all right?” Hoppy asked, his voice a low, gorgeous bass that was almost musical.

A thrill of sexual attraction, a deep and powerful erotic lust, welled up inside me. “Oh my god, Hoppy.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You look… .”

He smiled and placed his warm hand against my forehead, brushing some of my sweaty hair away from my eyes. “So do you.”

“No, I mean, you look amazing.”

“He looks like a fucking Greek god,” Ned said, staring at him.

Hoppy straightened up and looked at Ned, giving me my first good look at the latest developments. His tall frame was just overwhelmed with power. Thick bulging muscle pushed up under his flawless skin everywhere, and every muscle was perfectly developed. He was an anatomy chart of male human perfection. His chest was made up of two incredible masses of gorgeous muscle, coated in that forest of dark fur. His nipples looked perfect, too, and I wanted to suck on them.

He had a very defined eight-pack on his belly, made of tight, perfectly formed muscles marching in alignment down his torso. The thick curls across his massive pectoral globes narrowed into a thick trail winding down the center of his abdominals and then thickening and widening on his groin like a dark crown over his cock.

And his cock! Oh my god, his cock! It was limp, now, and probably ten inches long and eight inches around. One thick vein traversed the top of the shaft and the head, big as a plum, dangled on the end surrounded by a tight, ample supply of foreskin I needed to stick my tongue inside. Heavy balls, big as tangerines, round and plump, hung dangling in his scrotum. When he moved, his cock swung like a pendulum, so ponderous and thick that it might as well have been an arm.

Powerful wedges of raw brawn lined his thighs, thick and brain-sizzlingly powerful. And every inch of his body was covered in skin that looked like silk, shiny and smooth.

But it was his face—even more than all the new size and muscle and dick—that was the hardest thing to fully take in.

Handsome didn’t even start to describe him. He was gorgeous. Beautiful. Literally stunning. If he walked into a room, the whole place would start to spontaneously cream their collective jeans, even the women. Cocks would inflate in record time. Balls would fill with pints of warm, sticky cum and those suddenly erect cocks would pump it all over the place like fountains.

He was crazy fine. I was sure—100% certain—that no man on the planet looked as good as Hoppy did now. He was almost literally insanely beautiful, with a strong angular jaw, a firm brow, a noble nose, and eyes so blue that you felt like the entire sky was held inside them. His chest fur was matted with cum, he was slick with sweat, he needed a shower pretty badly, and even considering all that, I wanted to fuck him again right now, and so did my dick.

I could not imagine how Hoppy could look any better than he did now. Then again, I had those same thoughts before we went to bed, and in the shower when he pressed me against the tile. The triple whammy had worked its miracle. Hoppy was a towering model of masculine perfection.

I whispered, “Whoa.”

I probably looked like I was having a heart attack or a stroke or something, because a concerned look came over Hoppy’s intensely beautiful features. His brow furrowed and his eyes widened and his soft, pillowy, kissable lips formed a little “O” that I wanted to stick my dick inside, knowing that it would slip down his throat like magic until he sucked all the cum currently pooling in my balls out of my wildly exploding cock.

“Go look in the mirror,” I told him.

“Yeah?”

“Dude,” I said, seriously.

“You should see the view from behind him,” Ned said, almost giddy. “This is fucking crazy insane unbelievable!”

Hoppy smiled and I nearly came. He shook his butt for Ned’s benefit and I heard him groan and sigh like a man watching the most perfect ass on Earth invite him in for coffee. He straightened up and walked into the bathroom which had very large, nearly wall-high full length mirrors facing each other, almost as if the hotel expected the most beautiful man in the world to want to watch himself from every angle. The bathroom light flicked on, illuminating the steaminess that was pouring out of the shower like fog rising off some indoor forest pond. I looked at Ned and he looked at me and his mouth formed his own ‘whoa’ and then he pointed at his dick like there was something wrong with it, but when I looked all I saw was another award-winning hard-on throbbing with insistent pulses.

“I know how you feel,” I agreed. If I hadn’t exploded cum all over myself a few minutes ago, I would have started doing it now.

Ned whispered to me as if he didn’t want to embarrass Hoppy, “His ass feels like a mouth.” I nodded. “No, dude. It. Feels. Like. A. Mouth. Sucking your dick. When you’re fucking him.”

“You don’t have to whisper, Ned. He knows.”

“How does he do that?”

I pulled in a long, deep breath and sighed it out. “Long story short, Hoppy is a genius bioengineer geneticist and he’s made some ongoing unique, unusual and, let’s agree, very agreeable alterations to his own DNA, the result of which is that during orgasms, because he is triggered by intense pleasure or gratification, he… grows. Bigger. Everywhere.”

“The fuck?” Ned looked towards the bathroom where the world’s most beautiful man was checking his latest developments out.

“The fuck,” I acknowledged.

We both heard Hoppy’s deep and sexy voice from the steamy room ask, “Is my butt too big? I think my butt’s too big.”

I answered, “I didn’t get a chance to measure it, but I think Ned would disagree with your assessment rather vehemently.”

“Your ass is fine, dude! Your ass is one prime piece of ass! I’d eat your ass for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and save some ass for a midnight snack!”

“Does that answer your question?”

Hoppy reappeared in the doorway, twisting his torso around to attempt to assess his butt like a dog chasing his own tail. Then he stopped and moved his hand over the prominent, muscular hump of his butt cheek, which, I had to admit, was one hell of a butt cheek. “Yes,” he said, adding, “Thank you, Ned. It’s difficult to judge one’s own buttocks.”

“You’re welcome, Clark.”

“Clark?”

“As in Kent,” Ned clarified, grinning. “I half expect you to leap giant buildings and stop locomotives any second now.”

I looked at Hoppy and noticed that for a man who looked like he did, he didn’t look very happy. “Something amiss?”

“This is getting out of hand,” he said. “How am I supposed to function normally if I keep growing? I’d estimate I’m nearly seven feet tall, now. Just getting in and out of cars is going to be difficult.”

“Buy a truck,” Ned suggested. His eyes were hungrily scanning every inch of Hoppy’s bigger, more muscular frame. He was slowly stroking his hard-on. “Dude, you look amazing. If I looked like you did, whether or not I could call an Uber would be pretty far down on my list of worries.”

“I think I know what’s really worrying the man,” I said, sitting up on the cum-soaked bed. “Hoppy is shy.”

Ned’s face registered disbelief. “That… that man is shy. The man we just three-wayed into a body that looks like it could dead lift Greenland and a cock that could be registered as a national monument and a butt capable of sucking my dick better than any dude ever sucked my dick… is shy.”

“I’m not shy,” Hoppy complained, “I’m just reserved.”

“Dude,” Ned said, putting a lot of meaning into that single word.

“He didn’t always look like that,” I volunteered. “I would imagine it takes some getting used to.”

“What did you used to look like?”

“Short,” Hoppy said. “Overweight. Lots of acne.”

“The hell you say!”

“He cleans up well,” I agreed.

Ned looked at each of us in turn, continually stroking his dick like he couldn’t help himself. “And you’re also… ?”

I held up my hands, “Oh, no, no, no, no. This is just plain old me. Six feet, two inches of slaving at the gym and avoiding eating carbs and running too many miles and getting $50 haircuts me.”

“And you guys have been a couple all this time?”

“No, we were friends in high school,” I explained. “We’re here for a reunion, but it turned into a lot more than that.”

“He loves me,” Hoppy said, looking at me with devotion.

“This is true,” I agreed. “Very much.”

“And I love him.”

“You dudes really know how to show up your high school classmates, I’ll say that for you.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Hoppy said. Just standing there talking normally pretending he didn’t look like a muscular, well-hung, beautiful-and-not-too-largely butted statue by Michelangelo portraying the perfect man. I’ve seen the statue of David in person and David looks like shit compared to Hoppy. “I wanted to see Hulkster again. I… wanted him to come be with me.”

Hoppy looked at me and his face looked worried, and in another moment I realized why.

“I told you I wanted to change your life, Hulkster. I want us to be together and… I want to offer you the change.”

“The change. Wait, the Change? The big dick, more muscles, cock-sucking ass change?”

He nodded. “The whole package. You and me. Together.”

“Whoa,” Ned said.

“Whoa,” I agreed.

“Yeah,” Hoppy announced.

Ned said, rather happily, “I don’t know if my vote counts, but I vote yes! Holy fuck, dude!”

“It’s crazy,” Hoppy said. “I know it’s crazy. We haven’t seen each other in years, or even spoken. I sprang all this on you out of the blue. You never would’ve even shown up here. But… it was my dream, it’s always been my dream. To be with you. Because I love you. I always loved you.”

“Holy shit,” Ned whispered. “This is like watching The Bachelor or something, except The Bachelor looks like naked Superman and instead of a rose he’s offering a dick that vibrates like a… vibrator.”

I laughed despite my surprise. But I wasn’t surprised. Not really. “I think I always loved you, too, Hoppy. But we were friends so I just never considered… and you want me to… ?”

Hoppy nodded. “I love you. I want to be with you. Together forever.”

“Moze,” Ned said curiously.

“Huh?” Hoppy and I both looked at the small sinewy man stroking his cock at the foot of the bed.

“He’s your Moze!”

“What’s a Moze?” I asked, not unsurprisingly I think.

“Sorry, sorry, go on, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

But Hoppy also asked, “What’s a Moze?”

“This is so random,” Ned said. “So, in high school? Which was only like a few years ago for me, not, like, decades or whatever…”

“Hey, now,” I cautioned him. “Some of us have feelings, you know.”

“Dude, I’m fucking with you. I’m totally into hot daddies.”

“You take that back right now, young man, or I am going to spank you!”

“I’d be into that, too. Anyway, there was this dude I liked—well, we were also best friends—named Moze. Moses Aloysius Gabriel Jackson, if you can believe it. Gorgeous, friendly, amazing singing voice, the dude was like… perfect. Like if you took Idris Elba and folded him into Pharrell and sprinkled some Taye Diggs all over the top. And I always kind of had a thing for him, but we were friends. Good friends. Best friends. Also he was like Mr. Perfect and shit, strict church-goer, straight A super-nerd, sang in the school choir, the dude everyone liked because he was just, like, nice, maybe because his dad was a cop. And I was like Mr. Hang Out Getting High in the Parking Lot, school is boring, let’s fuck off and play Call of Duty all night long dude. I mean, sure, we did some mutual stroking a time or two. Gave him a hand job once, which was… amazing. Dude owns a monster cock. Just massive. He came almost as much as you do, Hopster.” Hoppy smiled at the new nickname. “And I think about him all the time. Like, all the fucking time. But we never did anything about it, even though I got the impression that he wanted to, too.”

“Moze,” Hoppy said.

“You should look him up,” I added, taking Hoppy’s hand in mine and looking up at him. “Because happiness doesn’t come along as often as you think it will, and you don’t want to have to wait twenty years before you discover that it was there the whole time.”

Fat, heavy tears were forming in Hoppy’s blue eyes. “Twenty years is a long time to wait.”

“I… still have his number in my phone. I could never make myself delete it. Like a wish.”

“Or a dream,” Hoppy said. “Call him. Right now.”

“No one calls anyone anymore, Hoppy,” I explained. “You text.”

Ned was fishing his phone from his discarded pants. “Now? It’s like… fucking… three o’clock in the morning! I don’t even know if the number still works. Or where he is. Or if he’s like married or something.”

“One way to find out,” I said. “And don’t wait. Do it now. Let him know you were thinking about him. Let him know what he means to you.”

“That’s a lot to put in a text. Usually I just put ‘sup’.”

“Well, start there.” I squeezed Hoppy’s hand and he squeezed mine back.

“And then what? What do I say? I don’t have a reunion as an excuse or anything.”

“Start with ‘sup’ and see what he responds with, if anything. If you were best friends, you’ll be amazed at how quickly and easily you can pick it all back up again.”

“It might help if you look like me,” Hoppy suggested.

I looked at him and my heart was swelling. “Hoppy, I love you. You. The you you always were, which is still you regardless of the package you’re in.”

“Or the size of the package,” Ned added, unhelpfully.

“Same, Hulkster. You always looked amazing. But it wasn’t the way you looked that made me love you.”

“Jesus, if you two don’t shut up I’m gonna start crying, too.”

“We’re gonna get cleaned up.”

“And call room service,” Hoppy added.

“No! No, don’t call room service. I’ll take care of… all this. Room service will just make it all more confusing.”

“You’ll take care of the broken bed and the cum-soaked sheets and the general ‘it looks like this place was struck my a semen tsunami’-ness of it all?” I was doubtful of anyone’s ability to cope with this mess.

“I’m a man of many talents, one of which is hiding those things that one might want to hide. I strip naked and stick missile-sized dildos in my ass online. You think I can do that and keep a job at a swanky hotel?”

“Swanky?” I asked.

“Well, expensive then. The bed… you said you’d pay for that, and money solves a lot of problems. And I can shove the cummy sheets and towels in the laundry. Cummy sheets isn’t an unusual circumstance in a hotel, which shouldn’t surprise you. Even penthouse suites. Especially penthouse suites.” Ned, hard-on intact, pulled me off the mattress and shoved Hoppy and me into the bathroom. “You guys get cleaned up, have some naked fun, grow more muscle or whatever. I’ll handle this.”

“And what about Moze?” I asked over my shoulder.

“I’ll… also handle Moze. Whatever that means. And… thanks for the inspiration.”

We didn’t fuck in the shower while we got cleaned up, but we did make out like high schoolers on a field trip. Hoppy was so much taller than me now that it was kind of awkward, but his offer to give me the… what did he call it? The Change. That would solve that problem, though I assumed it might introduce a fuck-ton of others.

At the moment, holding him in my arms, kissing his lips, kissing his neck, kissing his nipples, feeling his slick body, his muscles, his fur, everything about him was turning me on, physically and emotionally. I didn’t want to think about what it meant to my lift give up everything and be with him. It was all I wanted right now. It felt like it would be all I ever wanted from now on.

We finally decided that all that soggy making out was going to turn us into prunes so we toweled each other off—and I admit that it took me an inordinate amount of time to towel off Hoppy’s incredible body and that prime shank of raw sex hanging from his loins and when we went back into the penthouse bedroom Ned proved to be a man of his word.

The place was immaculate, and—except for the broken bed which was now just a set of mattresses laying on the carpet sans bed frame—it somehow looked like none of the previous hours of copious copulating ever happened. Hoppy’s sex scent was still hanging in the air, but it was now mingling with the pleasant aroma of scented candles, and the cum and sweat somehow fused agreeably with the sandalwood and vetiver.

Ned was now clothed in his uniform, sitting in a chair and fervently typing on his phone, his young face lit up by both the screen and one of the brightest smiles I think I had ever seen. “I assume you contacted Moze,” I said, judging from his expression.

He looked up and his face was the very epitome of happiness. “Dude! You will not fucking believe this.”

“I’m standing next to a man who inflates with muscle, grows a bigger cock, and increases his already unbelievable beauty after almost anytime his balls unleash their unstoppable flood of warm, creamy cum up his foot-long,” I glanced down, “—excuse me, more than foot-long cock. Try me.”

“He watches me!”

“Like a stalker?”

“No, dude. Be serious.” It was sort of hard to take that advice literally. “Moze is also bbc4u2c!”

“You lost me.”

“He’s on Chaturbate and he watches me! He’s been watching me! He’s, like, a fan! Buys shit for me off my Amazon gift list, sends in hundreds of tokens. Never even told me!”

“And he works for the BBC?” Hoppy asked, confused.

“Big black cock,” Ned clarified for us oldsters. “For you to see. Big black cock for you to see. Like, I know him! Or, I guess, I re-know him.”

“Small world,” I observed wisely.

Ned was talking very fast, his excitement clear to see. “I should’ve known! Dude is hilarious, just like Moze. Because he is Moze, of course. We’ve done privates and he never even offered c2c.” We probably looked as confused as we were, so Ned offered more education in the ways of online sex. “Cam to cam. We would watch each other get off. He still lives here, too! And, get this, the dude owns a fucking gym! Dude’s a fucking massive bodybuilder! I mean, holy fuck, look!”

He held out his phone screen to us. Evidently, Ned and Moze had been sharing more than texts. It was a picture of a dark-skinned torso from the neck to the groin taken in a mirror. And, as Ned so eloquently put it, the dude was totally a fucking massive bodybuilder. With, I probably don’t need to add, a big black cock.

“Impressive,” Hoppy observed.

“No face?” I asked, automatically. I always insisted on seeing faces when setting up a fuck session. Dudes have a habit of faking their profile shots, or hadn’t you noticed?

Ned sucked a breath in through his lips. “Oh. My dude.” He twisted the phone back around, flicked his fingers across the screen a few times, and turned it to face us again.

Ned’s earlier description more or less hit the nail on the head. Moze had Idris’s smile and scruff, Pharrell Williams’s bedroom eyes and high cheekbones, and Taye’s dark complexion and overall beauty. He had a collection of wild, uncontrolled dreads on his head and tied into a long, thick tail hanging down his back, and his ears and nipples were pierced. Not to mention a body that would make The Rock wonder why he’d been wasting his time all these years. Not huge with muscular bulk but very clearly designed to present the epitome of muscular aesthetic beauty. And holy shit, what a chest! Moze must have his own apartment on the benchpress where he just stays for weeks on end, like a timeshare. “Wow,” I said. “So… he’s sending you naked shots of his body which I assume means he’s also slightly interested?”

“He wants to meet up,” Ned said nervously.

“But that’s a good thing, right?”

“Like… now.”

“Sound like he’s anxious to see you.”

Ned blushed. “He… was waiting for me to come online tonight. Said he was sitting there in front of his computer with his cock in his hand wondering where I was.”

“You’re nervous,” Hoppy observed. Ned nodded.

I said, “I still don’t see a problem. He knows exactly what you look like. He watched you and your large red dildo online. He sends you gifts and likes watching you masturbate or chaturbate or whatever. Feels like a perfect match to me.”

Hoppy added softly, and with a note of disappointment, “His chest looks bigger than mine.”

“Goals,” I said, rubbing his soft, rubbery nipple with my thumb.

“Invite him up,” Hoppy said. “I’d like to meet him, talk about muscle development and diet, find out how he managed to get so big.” I was still rubbing his nipple because it was funny to watch him trying to be logical while I was making his dick throb.

“I’ve a strong feeling he might have some questions for you, too, Superman,” I added, drolly. “I’d imagine he might be juicing.”

“No! I said the same thing. ‘Must be drinking ‘roid cocktails to have a body that big.’ He told me he’s all natural, said steroids make your balls shrink and could cause him to grow a gut, which wold ‘ruin the symmetry of my torso.’ He’s all about aesthetics. Dedication. Dude works out six days a week.”

“You still haven’t explained the problem.”

Ned looked at us, “When he sees you dudes, how am I supposed to compare? I mean, Hoppy is literally—literally—the perfect man. And you look like someone put a set of definitions of masculine comeliness into a computer and you popped out, with your stupid muscles and that stupid face and those stupid eyes.”

“You’re being silly,” I said. “He already knows what you look like, and besides, it isn’t about that. You guys have a history, and he gets off on watching you get off. I’d put down a pretty big wager that no matter what we looked like, Moze’s gonna walk in that door and his eyes are never going to leave your face. Except to look at your dick. And then suck your dick. In his mouth.” Ned’s phone pinged. “He seems anxious.”

He looked down at his phone. “He’s so fucking hot.”

“So are you,” Hoppy offered. “Ned, we haven’t known each other for very long, but I… kind of have a knack for judging people. When you’re shy and small and overweight, you can tell what someone is like by how they treat you. I may no longer be small, or overweight, but… you’re a sweet man. You’re nice and thoughtful and you can clean a room like magic. You’re a good person.”

“Who gets off on fucking himself on camera, which I count as an important and positive attribute, if that matters,” I added.

Hoppy nodded. “Being open minded is important.”

“And open assed.” Hoppy growled at me. “I’m just trying to inject a little levity in the situation.” I wrapped my arm around Hoppy’s waist and he put his arm across my shoulders. “Look, Ned, these are a weird and awkward circumstances. You’re feeling weird and awkward. But… don’t pass up this opportunity to correct something you’re going to otherwise regret for the rest of your life. And, if nothing else, you’ll finally get to c2c with bbc4u2c! Win-win!”

Ned laughed and the tension broke. He lifted the phone, typed in a few clicks, and waited for a response. The phone pinged back almost immediately and that same bright smile lit his features again. “Oh my god.” He looked up. “He’s coming here.”

I looked at Hoppy. “See if he can bring some some of his extra-extra large clothes. One of us has outgrown our wardrobe. Again.”

Hoppy grimaced. “It’s not entirely my fault, you know. You were the one fucking me,” he said to Ned. “And you were the one I was fucking. I think we can all share the blame.”

“Blame, huh? More like credit if you ask me.”

“Exactly,” Ned agreed.

“Do we have any snacks to set out? Maybe some cheese and crackers?” I looked at Ned. “Do you think Moze likes brie? I worry that he’s watching his boyish figure and maybe just some fruit would be better.”

Hoppy looked at me curiously. “What are you talking about?”

“Company’s coming! I’m just trying to be a good hostess!”

“Room service ends at two,” Ned informed me.

“Just as well. Something tells me that Moze is more interested in eating your ass.”

“As long as I get to suck that dick.”

“Whatever you say, suck_boy_prime.”

Ned pursed his lips and blew me a kiss. “That’s Mister suck_boy_prime, to you.”

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