Dave’s new dorm roommate, Lance, is naked. Always, constantly, deliciously naked. He’s also, huge, hung, and constantly horny. But what really changes everything is the unexpected effect that Dave has on Lance—and what Lance does to Dave.
The first week at college was…interesting.
To say that Lance was something of a legend on campus was putting it mildly. Everyone, it seemed, knew about “the naked guy” (he was admittedly hard to miss as he roamed the campus) and just as he had mentioned, everybody seemed immediately “used to it.”
Perhaps it was because he was so handsome. It was, after all, nearly impossible to ignore him, whether you saw him in passing on campus or shared a classroom with him. On those rare occasions when a new instructor was unaware of Lance’s particular mode of dress or someone had reason to find fault in his presence, he would simply suggest that they “talk about it one-on-one” with his usual overwhelming charm. He would smile at them, touch their body, tilt his head in that way of his that was both incredibly endearing and fucking hot, and off they’d go.
After that, there’d be absolutely no problem. It wasn’t hard to guess what those conversations entailed.
For me, of course, as his roommate, ignoring him was an impossibility. He was always very friendly when we met on campus, greeting me with a strong, all-encompassing hug (and butt squeeze) or less often a kiss on my mouth when he was feeling particularly friendly. It wasn’t even unusual to see him wandering around naked sporting an erection, surprisingly, but he refrained from publicly stroking himself or doing anything more overtly sexual—at least when I saw him. Again, if anyone objected to the site of this completely naked, fully aroused man striding across campus with his backpack cloning to his wide, muscular back, no one said anything to stop him.
Of course, I didn’t want to ignore him. Lance was, as he had also mentioned, in a near-constant state of intense erotic arousal. It seemed as if his enormous and talented dick could get hard on demand—even if we had just completed another round of Lance’s energetic and athletic version of sex. He might grab me and pull me into some secluded space, a janitor’s closet or a handy bathroom, and peel my jeans open to gift me with one of his mind-bending blowjobs, or—given time—encourage me to bend him over and push my eager cock inside his velvet glove of an ass, that seemed designed to enclose my rigid meat in a warm, wet tunnel of perfect bliss that sent intense tingling eruptions of sex along its hungry shank.
I always came a huge load when I was with him, either in his mouth or his ass, and judging by his deep moans of utter contentment he seemed to find the same insane gratification that I did.
There was a constant stream of both men and women who came to be on the receiving end of Lance’s amorous attentions, but I was never given time to be jealous. Even if he had just completed a session with someone—ending with some screams or shouts of sexual fulfillment—he would still proposition me with a glance or a wink or some filthy enticements and rise to the occasion without a problem.
And then there was that…unusual muscular development that I’d witnessed.
It did not always occur, and I never asked or mentioned it to any of Lance’s other sexual partners—nor did they mention it to me. But it seemed to be happening more often the more we were together.
At first, I thought perhaps I was in some kind of sexual daze. Every time I was with Lance, it felt like I hadn’t been relieved of my pent-up wealth of cum for a year and I had been saving it all up in my balls just so I could deliver it in a mind-blowing explosion of sexual release into his talented and hungry mouth.
When I finally asked Lance about it as we were both lounging after our latest round of very satisfying sex, he just smiled brightly and shrugged, pushing his elegant fingers through his shaggy dark mane. “Yeah,” he replied, “sometimes that happens.” Lance was still absently stroking his dick, as he looked across the room at me.
“And you don’t find that…odd?”
Lance looked down at his naked body, overwhelmed with hard muscle and gifted with a monster cock. He had grown increasingly large and powerful in the weeks between our first meeting and today. The dense, defined muscle was packed onto his tall frame and bulging out in thick, hard mountains. “Does it bug you?” he asked, rubbing the cobblestones of his six-pack as his ever-ready prick, hard and throbbing, drooled a thick string of honey into the riverbed between those foothills.
I swallowed hard as I watched my roommate’s body prepare itself for sex again. Lance seemed to almost glow whenever this happened, looking supercharged and ultra sexy, like his arousal made him more beautiful or something. “I…don’t know.” I finally replied.
Lance looked up at me from his bed. “It doesn’t always happen.” He petted his prick with open ease; slow, long, leisurely strokes with almost delicate finesse. “To me, I mean. Only with rare guys. And then only sometimes with them.”
“Like with me.” My eyes were riveted to his cock. It was huge and I could practically feel it in my ass.
“Like with you,” he agreed and smiled. “But I can usually tell when a guy can do that.” He sat up and his abs tensed into harder bumps with deep crevasses. “You know that you’re the one who does it, right? I can’t make myself get bigger. Only you can do that.”
“But…it’s never happened before. No other guy I’ve ever been with got…bigger. After.”
“After sucking your dick.” He shrugged his thickly muscled shoulders again, the lobes of power flexing beneath his silken skin. “Then why worry about it? I like it, and I kind of think you like doing it.”
I had to admit that it was a turn-on every time it happened, and now when it didn’t I felt disappointment. “I guess,” I admitted.
Lance’s cock was approaching full mast. “You want to try again? See what happens?” He wrapped his hand around his prick and squeezed, making the helmet turn red and glossy as another fat drop of pre swelled from its mouth. “I’m feeling extra powerful right now.”
“What do you want to…?”
“Suck your cock, first.” His ocean-blue eyes settled on my crotch. “Slobber all over that thick joint and get you good and hard and ready to explode. Get your balls filled beyond capacity and swallow down one of your awesome heavy deliveries.” He raised his eyes as his hand traversed the mammoth globes of power mounted on his chest. “See if I can get…even bigger.” He smiled and it made my cock tingle. “Then bend you over and fuck your tight butt with my thicker, fatter, heavier cock.” He tilted his head and his eyebrows rose. “Do you think that sounds like fun?”
I thought that it did. Because, indeed, being fucked by Lance was only slightly less mind-blowing than having his lips wrapped around my cock as his muscles started to grow.
Lance stood up—taller, now, than when I had walked in on his naked beauty that first day—and lifted my chin so he could press his soft, warm lips to my mouth. I moved my hands over the naked muscular perfection of my beautiful and amorous roommate’s body and my cock was quickly growing stiff. Lance reached down and surrounded my hard-on with his smooth, warm hand.
“How do you do it?” I asked, finding it suddenly hard to breathe.
“Do what?” Lance asked. “Do this?” He clasped his strong grip around my prick and squeezed hard.
“How do you…make me cum so hard?”
“I keep telling you, Dave,” he said between passionate kisses, “I don’t do anything. You do it all.”
“Do you want to talk,” Lance asked, “or do you want to cum?”
That was no contest.
One place I never saw Lance was at the college gym. After hanging out with such a huge hunk of muscular beauty, I was inspired to pump my own body harder than I ever had before, and made it a part of my daily regimen to spend 90 minutes every morning working out and doing some cardio to trim off the fat and swell my muscles to try to match Lance’s impossible physique.
I even asked around with the others I saw on a regular basis during my heavier workouts if anyone ever saw Lance in there. I figured they already knew about “that naked guy on campus” and I was right, of course. Even those who had yet to lay eyes on him had heard about him, but no one could say that they ever saw him working out.
I decided to ask him about it one morning as I was throwing my stuff into my gym bag. “Nope,” he said, in his usual happy and friendly manner, “I used to, but it caused some problems so I stopped.”
I turned and looked at him. He was lounging his tall, lanky, beautiful bod on his bed. His dick was at half-mast (likely on its way to another full-blown hard-on) and he was rubbing it with the back of his hand. “Problems?” I asked.
He nodded and half-grinned. “Yeah, well, some of the others objected to me sitting my naked butt on the equipment,” he said, “plus there were some…unforeseen side effects to working out.”
I guess I could agree with the hygienic question of someone’s sweaty butt and balls resting against the vinyl seats—even if they were Lance’s, and even if they were perfect—but I had to ask about the side effects.
“I was getting really big, really fast,” he explained. Then he shrugged and his grin grew into one of his dick-hardening smiles. “Not that I have to worry about growing out of my wardrobe, but it probably would’ve raised some questions.”
“What do you mean? What sort of…?”
He stood up abruptly and kissed me deeply, sending throbs of sex at my cock and balls and making my ass twitch. “You better get your ass out of here before I strip you out of your togs and go to work on your cock,” he said, reaching down to squeeze my suddenly-swelling member. “Fuck, you make me horny, Dave. You make me hornier than anyone I ever met.”
“Thanks,” I said. “The feeling’s mutual.”
He kissed me again, passionately. “You sure you don’t want to hang out with me instead of…?”
It was a very tempting offer, but I was determined to somehow get big enough to make him proud of me. “I’m gonna hit the gym, dude,” I told him, pushing his naked perfection away. “Someone’s gotta give you a run for your money.”
“Fine,” he said, running his hand along my arm. “You come back here when you’re done, and I’ll give you another work-out.”
A couple of months after meeting Lance, and delivering countless heavy loads into his talented and gratifying mouth and ass, he was massive. Bodybuilder physique, and not an ounce of fat on his bones. He had so much muscle packed on his frame it sometimes looked like it was going to birth through his paper-thing skin.
Who knows how much cream I had pumped into his body? Being with him seemed to increase the amount I was able to shove from my balls with every delivery, but it looked like it was having an even greater effect than ever.
And we were now meeting for his…feedings…almost daily.
I could watch his muscle swell as he sucked on my hard, throbbing joint, stroking and teasing my pumps of hot cream with his talented hand and mouth, slobbering spit all over my heavy inches, and it was obvious to me that it was really happening.
He settled back, breathless and grinning up at me as I watched the valleys between his newly developed eight-pack abs deepen, and his ponderous pecs slowly swelled forward. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, seeming to sink into a sort of dreamlike state as his muscles swelled. His physical beauty was increasing in synch with his size, and looking at him there slowly breathing, slowly growing, I was nearly ready to blow another load.
“How big are you gonna get?” I asked, watching the new muscle fibers developing over his bulging biceps.
His grin grew into a wide smile and he sucked in a deep breath, making his huge chest swell outward and the bands of muscle stretch beneath his naked flesh. “Dunno,” he said. “I never met anyone who can do to me as much as you can.” He opened his eyes and looked down at his nude body. His own dick was jutting straight up from his loins and a thick, glistening gob of pre was drooling from its mouth. It was growing like the rest of him, and he sometimes would involuntarily shoot ropes of cum after feeding and growing.
He raised his arm and bent his elbow, shoving power into the fat ball of his biceps and we both watched the muscle grow fat and hard, pushing up under his skin and showing its tightly-packed collection of fibers. His vascularity was incredible, as his skin stretched to cover his constantly growing brawn. “Feels fucking amazing.”
“Doesn’t look so bad, either.”
He looked up at me and our eyes met. He reached his hand up and wrapped his strong fingers behind my neck, pulling me towards him and pressing his lips to mine, kissing me with passion and appreciation. His tongue pushed inside my mouth and my own passion flared. It amazed me how he could do this to me—suck my cock until my balls were drained, then kiss me like this until I could feel my cock swelling back to erection and my balls began to ache with their load.
He seemed to sense my heat growing, and he grinned as we kissed. “You got a double load for me?” he asked quietly, reaching down with his other hand to my now throbbing hard-on. He squeezed me hard and drove me to my toes.
He grinned. “You wanna fuck me?”
“Nothing feels as good as my dick in your ass, Lance.”
“Nothing?” He bent over and surrounded my cock with the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on me with evident hunger.
“Almost nothing,” I said. “But don’t get greedy. You look like you gained ten fucking pounds with my last load alone.”
He sucked on me and I could feel my renewing load tingle along the length of my cock. He wanted more. He always wanted more.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Holy fuck, I’m…I’m gonna come again.”
He placed his warm, strong hand on my belly and rubbed me like a lamp, wanting the genie of my magic cream to escape and make him grow again. How could I not oblige him?
I bucked my hips and squeezed my asshole and pushed another fat fountain into his mouth. I could hear him moan and suck and his tongue seemed to wrap itself around me and squeeze.
My breath grew short and he began to swell anew even with my first gush. I watched his shoulders begin to swell and I rested my hands on them, wanting to feel his muscles getting bigger and stronger as he sucked on my cock. His growth made my fingers stretch and a heat built in his muscles as they grew.
It was an amazing experience, feeling my lover growing more powerful as he hungrily swallowed every drop of my cream.
He took his mouth from my spurting prick and I coated his face in cream. He stood up slowly as I continued to pump my load, gasping with bliss at the sight of his naked perfection, and I splattered cum on his neck, and his chest, and his belly. He had grown several inches taller since we had met, and I was painting his massive frame, excited and turned on by his overwhelming beauty and power and size, coming hard and thick and lacquering his intense masculine beauty with fat splatters of cream.
I was still shoving this unending load out of my balls as he turned around and bent over, planting his feet wide and reaching around to spread his muscular cheeks, prying open his powerful buttocks and opening his tight pink rosebud to me. I could feel his heat rising from the heart of his desire, smell his strong sex sting my nostrils.
I took my cock in my hands and, still erupting, pushed myself inside his ass and began to fuck him with hard, full thrusts, shoving cream along the hard inches of my cock and erupting constantly as I fucked him. My cream lubed his tight, perfect chute and cascades of wild sexual bliss erupted along every millimeter of my fountaining meat, pumping more cream into his guts as he groaned like a bear and ground his ass against me, practically sucking me inside him as my eruptions increased in volume and power.
I did not question how this was happening, how he was doing this, how I could be pumping a river of cum inside him. I marveled as I watched his back begin to spread and pulse, as new muscle swelled upwards like mountains beneath his naked skin, and rivers of sweat glistened on his perfect body as he continued to grow under me.
“More,” I heard him moan, growling, groaning. “More,” he commanded.
Holy fuck, I came harder! I was exploding with cream as he grew, his talented and perfect ass sucking my cock like a mouth, pulling cream out of my aching balls to feed his muscles. It felt like my cock was swelling to fill up his growing body, lengthening itself to reach further inside him, swelling thicker to fit more tightly inside him.
I swooned and gulped in air as I continued to pump him full of my cum, feeling every thick fountain as it shot along my inches, surrounding my cock in wet heat.
I fucked him and watched him swelling with muscle for five or ten minutes, and my balls were finally drained and so was I. I pulled out and deflated, feeling incredibly tired and incredibly empty.
He stood up.
He was taller. And wider. And thicker. And more beautiful than ever. “How did you do that?” I asked. “That’s never happened before. Not with you. Not with anyone. It was like I couldn’t stop coming…and I didn’t want to.”
“I keep telling you, Dave.” His voice was deeper, more resonant, more masculine. “I’m not doing anything.” His cock was bigger, thicker, longer, drooling a long thread of gleaming pre-cum. His muscles were bulging like he’d just spent hours at the gym. Sweat glistened on his naked, perfect skin. “You are.”
Lance still showed up to all his classes, but he had become an incredible distraction to everyone, students and teachers alike. He was still The Naked Guy, sitting in his seat in the midst of the classroom, his long, thick cock dangling off the edge of his chair, his massive chest rising and falling as he breathed, his long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him.
He stopped shaving and his angular, chiseled features now sported a thick, dark beard and mustaches. His hair was still a shaggy mane atop his noble head, but now it hung past his shoulders and spread along his incredibly wide back. His broad, enormous chest was coated in a forest of manly fur, thick dark curls that spread like a carpet and allowed his fat, prominent nipples to poke through like kiss-fattened lips. A heavy bush of more dark curls crowned his massive dick and tried unsuccessfully to hide his fat balls. Strands of more beautiful hair lined his forearms and legs.
His effect on others was now as magnified as his strength and size. His libido had no problem keeping up with the near-constant demands on his sexual drive, and he was entertaining the guys and the girls who flocked to him like bees to honey with his usual friendly and accommodating demeanor.
But he saved up his most primal and passionate sex for us.
We were fucking every day, often multiple times, whether he’d been with two or two dozen other partners that day. When I appeared, he would politely excuse himself, or beg pardon from his partners and explain that he needed me. His power over them seemed absolute, and they would agree to his wishes without comment.
He never invited others to engage in our partnership. It was always just him and me, and I received his undivided and very energetic attention.
I had to start working out harder myself just for my own body to keep up with him. Sex was its own workout, but as he grew larger and more powerful our sexual escapades grew equally athletic and muscular. He never demanded anything from me or suggested I change something, and I knew what he wanted from me without words. When we were together I was his complete focus, with an intensity and passion that always overwhelmed and enthralled me.
My unusual ejaculatory abilities when I was with him continued to increase until I was nearly constantly coming from the moment I was out of my clothing and his hands were on my body. His merest touch now seemed to elicit the height of sexual bliss, and my cock would inflate to rock-hard erection and begin to fountain cream almost before he applied his lips to the head of my orgasmic shaft.
And of course he continued swelling with muscle, cock, and beauty. I did not think he could continue to grow but in the four months since I met him in our room, he was nearly a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier. Probably more.
In addition to my newfound ability to produce a flood of cum for him to consume or absorb to feed his growth, my dick actually had increased in size by a considerable amount, perhaps in direct response to the needs of my lover’s body.
Nothing else about me had physically altered, although I was seeing the direct benefits of my necessarily increased gym time as one would expect. But my gains were dramatically outpaced both by Lance’s incredible muscular development as well as the inches of length and girth that my horse cock was somehow magically developing.
Having a huge cock was both great and terrible. It was great because it made me feel more…self confident. I could feel it down there shoved inside my jeans like a heavy burden. It would throb and tingle along its thick inches whenever I saw Lance, and his smile could nearly cause me to spontaneously cream.
It was terrible because when I did start springing a stiffy when I was still in my clothes, it could be pretty painful as it inched its way in my crowded crotch and wanted its release from those denim confines.
When I did haul it out, it was quite a sight to see. I could tell that the guys in the gym showers were jealous of my meat, wagging like a thick limb from my groin. My balls were also bigger, undoubtedly due to my new talents concerning the fountain of cream I could pump out whenever Lance touched me.
And when we were together, he and I, there was no other sensation in the whole world that could compare to that bliss. We fit together like a hand in a glove when I fucked him, and his mouth on my pumping joint made my eyes roll up in their sockets and my toes to curl.
When Christmas break rolled around, I almost refused to go back home. The thought of being parted from my perfect lover for two weeks seemed unbearable.
“It will be good for us to have some time apart,” he told me, as he cradled me against his hard, massive chest and surrounded me in his powerful arms. I could feel the low rumble of his voice against my body and it made my dick throb and tingle.
“I’ll miss you.”
“I know you will,” he said, and then he whispered in my ear, “but I’ll miss you more.”
“You’ll miss this,” I said, reaching down toward my nearly foot-long prick and grabbing its thick shaft in my hand.
He laughed gently, his massive body shaking, and he kissed the top of my head. “No,” he chided, “I’ll miss you. I love you, Dave.”
“Then why do you want me to go?”
“I don’t want you to go, but I think you should go. I think some time apart will do us both some good.”
“Will you be lonely?” I asked it even though I knew he would not be. His social schedule was always full—except when I was around.
“Of course,” he said. “I only feel complete when I’m with you.” He squeezed my smaller body against his warm, naked, muscular frame. I could feel his mammoth prick swell against me, working its way between my ass cheeks.
“I have some time before I need to grab a cab to the airport.”
“How much time?” he asked.
I turned around in his embrace and pushed my mouth against his. I started exploding cream like a hydrant instantly.
If my friends and family back home noticed my accentuated appendage, no one mentioned it to me.
At least at first.
It was hard to ignore, of course—I had previously owned an adequately-sized cock, but certainly nothing noteworthy. I could pretty much manage, even with a hard-on, to go about my day inconspicuously.
Now I had a fucking hose hanging from my groin, a tool that wasn’t only long but absurdly thick. Sure, it had temporarily calmed itself in the absence of Lance’s magical presence, but the bulge from an eight-inch tool that could swell another two inches in length when I was excited about someone (and I discovered that my excitement could still make itself known with head-spinning speed) was hard to ignore.
After a week of abstinence and my dick practically screaming at me for some release, I hooked up with an old Fuck Buddy just to provide a little peace from its near-constant reminder of its insatiable need. My balls felt like lead weights and my cock was pounding like a hammer when I texted my bud and suggested a rendezvous that we’d both enjoy.
His eyes practically bugged out of his head when he saw me. “When did you get so hot?” he asked, moving his hands over my more muscular physique, and then his fingers found my fat meat, rubbing and grabbing me through my jeans, and he added, “and hung?”
I shoved my lips against his and felt my desire rise to volcanic levels. I didn’t know how horny I was until I was finally allowed to let the beast roar, and he had hardly pushed his mouth over my meat before I was shooting my fat ropes of hot cream down his throat.
I had been wondering if I could now perform the same magic on others as I could with Lance. Would another man start to swell with power as he swallowed my magic potion? But I could see no evidence of that as my Fuck Buddy attempted to gulp down the heavy deliveries of cream my balls were pumping with increased force and magnitude.
He was doubtful at first about letting my bigger prick anywhere near his ass, but his desire for it finally outstripped his fear. He was grabbing me and stroking me and sucking on me with a kind of worshipfulness, and I let him. When at last he consented to let me inside, we fucked like dogs in heat and I was pushing myself in to the hilt, making his eyes tear and groans of pain and then pleasure rumble inside his chest. He was so fucking tight! But that was mostly because I was so fucking big. Hell, even Lance’s mammoth frame hugged my fat meat like a vise.
I must have used a whole bottle of lube just to force myself inside, but once I was well-seated and into a groove, I was shoving cum inside his guts with my usual plentiful volume. If my unusual ability to cum at a near-constant rate the entire time we fucked shocked or stunned him, he appeared to be enjoying it too much to question it.
I leaned over him as my hips thrust my huge meat in and out of his accommodating ass and forgot for a minute that this wasn’t Lance under me, and I got a bit rough with him. Lance could take whatever I threw at him, of course, and loved it. That dude was made of solid steel and liked when I grabbed his hair or bit into his shoulder, but Fuck Buddy wasn’t made of such stern stuff and he decided, afterwards, that we might not be the perfect fuck pair like we used to be.
So for the rest of my break, I was left with nothing but my own spit-slicked hand for partnership. Though it was gratifying to be able to get off with regularity, I found that jerking off wasn’t hitting the deep needs I was feeling for Lance’s body and cock.
I contemplated pulling out Grindr and seeing who was around, but there was no appeal for anonymous sex for me. Even just to appease my constantly throbbing monster cock. Hell, my Fuck Buddy and I were well-acquainted and used to be a perfect match, and now even his company could not compare. I only wanted Lance….who else could possibly meet his beauty, his power, and his magic?
By the end of my break, my longing for Lance was like a physical ache. I saw him in my dreams and awoke with my cock rock-hard and drooling for him. My balls had to be emptied on a regulate basis, and I would close my eyes in my childhood home bathroom and picture Lance in me head, smell his skin on my skin, see his gorgeous face and its beautiful smile and feel my prick swell with need. A few strokes and I was pumping fat ropes of cream into the sink and then into the bathtub when my load grew too copious for the drain.
Things got so bad for me in his absence that I had to break the silence and text him. I had agreed—reluctantly—that we would take this time off from each other and not call or text, but I literally could not help myself. My need for him, even just to see his words on my little phone screen, had become imperative.
i miss u
miss u 2
wish u were here
get some more
only want u
need some help?
feel my lips on yr cock?
whats it feel like
soft warm wet u can hear me moan
u like it when i moan
u like it when i bite
licking yr dick licking yr balls
dragging my teeth across your rock-hard dick
balls hurt? u need to get off? u need to get me bigger?
i swallow u all the way deep throat cuz i can take it all
grab yr fat balls & squeeze
i need all yr juice need to grow
need to get stronger bigger
bigger than any1
gonna fucking shoot until u cant hold more
sucking yr fat cock fingering yr tight hole
u need to cum
wont let u
u cant cum til i let u
no i can’t
yr balls hurt so much cum
gallons of cum yr gonna blow
u can cum now
I dropped my phone and exploded. I grabbed my fat cock and looked down as I shot a flood of white hot cream and nearly died with bliss.
Lance could make me explode with cream even when he wasn’t there. Just the thought of him drove my libido past the red line and my balls were pumping like the overburdened balloons that they had become. Even when I was taking a morning shower, it wasn’t uncommon to find my dick throbbing hotly against my belly and before I was through, I was shoving a white fountain from the foot-high tip, groaning with bliss.
The two weeks apart from him couldn’t pass fast enough for me.
My plane ride back was agony. I had to go to the toilet twice just to beat off and relieve the pent-up wealth of cum in my balls. All I could think of was Lance. All I could see was his smiling face, his massive pecs, his rock-hard abs, his thick drooling cock. My underwear was soaked with pre and I had to clean up gobs of spent cream I was shooting like a fountain.
I practically ran to my dorm room in anticipation of seeing Lance again. My need for him was now painful. Literally. My balls hurt with the cargo I had managed to save up for him, and my dick was practically tearing a hole in my jeans for escape. I could feel his mouth on the swollen head, his tight hot ass surrounding my thick shaft, the sensation of my explosion of cream erupting up the fat inches of my cock as I watched his body swelling with power.
He was waiting for me in almost the exact same pose as I had first encountered him months before, and the experience was shocking.
He was so much larger than he had been, and he’d been so muscular and beautiful to begin with. I could hardly remember that version of him compared with now.
He was leaning his perfect ass against the desk, again, with his insanely huge arms folded across his insanely huge chest. His beautiful, hyper-muscled body was now coated in that soft, warm fur, and his cock had gained several inches and was already standing at full attention as I walked through the door. His chest was bunched into massive cables of power, and his dick was coated in a thick glaze of his masculine honey.
My heart nearly stopped in my chest at the sight of his intense beauty. His eyes flashed with desire and he was breathing hard. Was his need as deep as mine was? Had our parting played on his mind and his emotions with the same depth of desire for me as I had for him? Did he realize how much I loved him?
How much I needed him?
“Hello,” he growled. His voice struck me like a blow and I was pulling my pants open and allowing my eager, hungry dick out before I knew what I was doing.
“I know,” he said. “So do I.”
“Come here.” I was shoving my pants off my body. He strode to me and ripped them off me as if they were made of paper, followed by my shirt. I was trying to kick off my shoes but he was already kneeling and stroking my hard-as-steel erection as if it was a beloved pet he hadn’t seen in years.
He leaned forward and buried his nose in my crotch to sniff my scent, no doubt a funky masculine musk after my ample equipment had been cramped up inside my tight jeans the entire flight and cab ride. My foot-high cock pulsed against his handsome face, his rough beard, his chiseled features.
His pink tongue emerged and he placed it against the thick base of my cock and licked me from root to tip, and then engulfed me with his mouth and I balled my hands into fists and ground my teeth tightly to stifle the scream of utter perfect bliss as my first explosion of cum erupted up my fat shaft like a blast from a cannon.
His throat swelled and his cheeks sunk in as he sucked and swallowed with equal hunger. It felt as if my first pump went on for minutes, my balls acting like the bulb of a turkey baster that had been squeezed tightly enough to empty their contents.
He was already swelling with new power. He reached around and pulled my cheeks apart roughly and pushed a thick finger into my asshole and nudged my prostate and was rewarded with another equally powerful delivery of muscle-building cream and his growth redoubled.
It was incredible. It was impossible. Did he know this would happen? Did he realize that being apart from him would make my cum even more powerful than before?
My god, I had never felt so good in my entire life. I was giving him everything, every drop, every seed of power that he needed and I watched his shoulders enlarge and widen and his chest swelling forward like two meaty balloons and his head was rising as his body grew bigger and bigger and bigger.
I shot load after load into his mouth and he swallowed so quickly that I wondered if he was sucking me dry. He groaned in utter bliss and I wondered if he felt as good as I did.
Bigger and bigger. And then his cock was tucking its head into the deep crevasse between his swelling pecs and the mouth opened and he began to explode with me, shoving ropes of cream against his neck over and over until his load was dripping in the heavy, dark carpet of his fur like pearls. I could feel his warm, wet delivery splash on my skin like lava.
We came together and he grew more powerful by the second, swelling with muscle and beauty as I delivered it to him in a thick stream.
When we finished our reunion and he stood before me, he was a god.
“Jesus,” I said, looking up at his handsome face. He smiled and tilted his head, licking his lips of the last remnants of my load.
Muscle was still bulging against his naked skin almost as if it was preparing to rip its way through. I could see every fiber of power and his growth was still happening.
He was breathing hard as he looked at me with utter desire and lust. His chest would swell with a breath and then remain there as he continued to fill with brawn. His arms were ludicrously large, maybe as wide as his head, with prominent biceps and triceps standing out with stark definition. Fat, finger-thick veins pulsed with blood, feeding his slowing growth.
I reached forward and set my fingers gently against Lance’s swollen belly, realizing he had swallowed so much of my cum that his stomach was distended. Now it was slowly receding, revealing his incredible eight-pack abs as his muscles consumed the power my cream somehow gave them.
He was hot to the touch, and hi skin was gleaming with a coat of sweat. He smelled like sex, as his own load draped across his massive chest, mingling with the thick carpet of man fur that now grew there. I dipped my fingers to some of his load and pulled it to my lips, sucking his salty seed inside my mouth. It seemed to burn and tingle, and as it touched my tongue my own ponderous cock twitched and throbbed and began to rise anew.
He was still growing, still breathing hard, still hot to the touch when he leaned his lips to mine and kissed me soundly. “Fuck,” he whispered against my mouth, “I missed you so much.”
I smiled and sighed. God, how I loved his voice. “I don’t think I can do that again,” I said.
“I bet you could,” he answered, squeezing my swelling erection in his huge grip.
I laughed softly. “No, I mean…being apart from you. It hurt.”
“I know what you mean,” he agreed.
“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again.”
He kissed me deeply as he squeezed my cock hard in his grip, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the tender, sensitive tips of the mouth and making my breath catch and my balls swell. “Then you won’t be,” he promised.
“Mmm hmm,” he groaned behind me.
“No, but…holy shit.”
“You sure you wouldn’t rather be doing something else?” Lance was standing behind me as we gazed into the mirrors mounted on the wall, and he started to grind his pelvis into me. I could feel the firm, fat shank of his mammoth prick distinctly. He was hot in every sense of the word, and getting him this far had been a challenge. I wasn’t about to stop, now.
But, holy shit! I knew the dude was big but big didn’t even begin to touch what he was. I was standing in front of him to get a better indication of our relative sizes. I was five-foot-eight and weighed around one-seventy-five. Pretty average, really, but my workouts over the past weeks and months were paying very apparent dividends. I was pretty fucking shredded, and I had a nice chest and well-defined arms. When I lifted my shirt, I now owned an obvious six-pack—and fuck, was that ever hard to achieve! I wasn’t neglecting my legs or my butt, either, working hard on squats and extensions so that there were lobes of muscle lining my thighs and I owned a not-too-shabby little bubble butt.
Lance stood behind me in his naked glory and his entire head was visible above my own. His shoulders stretched out so far that both his arms were exposed beside my own, and he’d planted his feet wide enough so that I could see the flair of his calves. The only part hidden was his absurdly narrow waist and that massive shank of sex he was now pressing against me.
I mean, I knew he was huge, but it’s kinda hard to tell when you’re fucking a dude just how huge he really is. And Lance was…fucking enormous.
I was frankly curious about the specifics involved in Lance’s fantastic development. How tall was he really, and how much did he weigh? More than that, how strong was he? If put to the test, how much could this giant mountain of pure muscle bench press? How much could one arm heft? How big did he get with a good pump put into his massive collection of perfect brawn?
At first he balked at my request, and it took a few more weeks of constant begging on my part before he even said maybe instead of no.
Perhaps he was waiting for just the right time—or the right size. We just kept right on having incredible sex, and he just kept right on growing. My balls were practically bursting with their load, and only my time with Lance seemed capable of easing my burden.
His growth cycles weren’t increasing in frequency. There were still some occasions when I was pumping my copious loads inside him and nothing happened—well, nothing except me having mind-blowing orgasm. Often under these circumstances he’d blow a massive load at the same time, almost as if his body couldn’t handle any more growth at the time and it had to expel all the magic juice I had for him.
When he did grow, the growth was now obvious and potent. He’d sit back, pulling himself off my still-erupting cock, and close his eyes and smile that fucking beautiful smile of his and I’d watch him swelling with power. The thick wedges of muscle lining his thighs would bulge upward as if inflating. His chest, like two globes, swelled forward and each hard mass would press against the other for space. His upper arms amplified with fat balls of brawn, and his back would flare wider and wider as his lats thickened and spread. Even the carpet of fur that now amassed on his frame seemed to grow thicker and more beautiful.
Then he’d open his eyes and lick his lips and groan like a bear.
He looked like a massive bodybuilder at this point, rather than the well-trained gymnast I’d met months ago. If I’d had the sense to take photos of him between that man and what he was now, I’m sure the differences would be insane. But having witnessed his development as it happened, it was often hard to remember what he had looked like before.
If he was any other dude, I would have been jealous if not angry at him. After all, compared to anyone else my own body would be looking pretty awesome itself! I’d been working out like a fucking animal at the weights for the same amount of months that I’d been shoving muscle onto his frame, but my gains followed a more normal maturation.
So I had finally succeeded in talking him into visiting the gym on campus. The only prerequisite was that he didn’t want there to be anyone else there. “Why?” I asked. The dude was obviously not shy, and what the fuck did he have to be self-conscious about?
But he was insistent, so we walked across the darkened campus early on a Sunday morning when the chances of anyone else wanting to use the equipment was slim-to-none.
I took his hand (even his fucking hand was huge, now!) and lead him over to the wall of mirrors where dudes checked their routine or checked their progress or, if they were gay like me, checked each other out on the sly. We stood side-by-side at first, and I told him to relax.
“I am relaxed,” he said, furrowing his brow.
It was fucking insane. No one looked like that. Dudes in pictures who looked like that were holding in their gut to get more definition in their abs. They had finished a punishing set of push-ups to work some size into their chest and arms.
But he was just standing there. And he looked perfect.
I looked puny next to him. Almost pathetic. Like I said, next to any other normal guy, I was more than decent. Squared-off pecs, a nice six-pack (when I tensed it up), even had a fat vein running over each biceps.
But, holy shit.
Then I moved to stand in front of his body to get a more accurate comparison and that’s where we were now, standing in the deserted gym in the middle of the night, him naked and me in my workout togs, looking at the reflection of us both.
His cock was throbbing against me as he slowly pistoned his hips. I swallowed drily and felt my balls sizzle and grow heavy. “If you don’t stop that I’m gonna shove so much cream out of my balls it’s gonna look like someone threw a gallon on pancake batter against the mirror.”
“I have a better use for a gallon of cream.” He moved his lips against the back of my neck and kissed me with loud sucking noises.
“We made a deal,” I said, curling my toes and fingers against my desire to turn around and let him do whatever he fucking wanted to with me. “We come here when the place is empty and I get to see just how big and strong you really are.”
“What does it matter?” he asked again. That was always Lance’s response to my pleading.
“Curiosity,” I replied.
He straightened and shrugged his mighty shoulders, rolling his eyes and mouthing ‘whatever.’
We walked over to the scales to measure how big he really was. He’d gained several inches since we met—in every direction—so we started with his height.
He stood on the scale and I lifted the stadiometer—the thing that measures height (I had to look that up on Google) until it rested on his head. His hair was thick and lustrous, long enough now that he tied it in a thong and it reached to the middle of his widely tapered back, and I pushed the rod against his skull and looked at the reading.
He was now exactly two meters high, or about six-feet, five-and-a-half-inches tall. He smiled and he told be he was “five-ten when you met me,” which meant that he had grown over an inch a month since then. That was…impossible.
But scales don’t lie.
Then I asked him how much he weighed when we met. He pursed his lips and shrugged again. “Dunno. How much do you weigh?” I told him, and he said, “Probably around one-eighty, one-eight-five.” I looked at his massive muscles now and my heavy cock twitched in my shorts. I could practically feel my balls inflating with cum. Jesus Fucking Christ, how much had he grown?
I shifted the two weights across the scale trying to estimate his new size and kept vastly underestimated it until I finally got the scales to balance and I leaned in to see how much my lover weighed now.
I had looked up how much a bodybuilder needed to weigh before qualifying for a class. A heavyweight bodybuilder weighs between 198 1/4 pounds up to 225 1/4 pounds. A super heavyweight is any man weighing more than that.
Before I tell you, I’ll note that when Arnold Schwarzenegger (who stands six-feet, two-inches tall) won Mr. Olympia seven times, his top off-season weight was 260 pounds.
Lance weighed 279 pounds exactly. And he did not look like this was his off-season weight. The dude was ripped to shreds. I could see every one of his muscles flex and stretch when he moved. His skin was paper-thin.
Now it was time to see how strong he was.
I brought my phone with me to search online and look-up the current world records for various weightlifting categories. I didn’t think that Lance would be able to approach those totals, since he hadn’t been working out and maybe bigger muscles didn’t necessarily mean stronger muscles.
I wanted him to warm up before we attempted the world record bench press. I wanted to see him shove more weight off his massive chest than any other man had ever done.
And that meant a single bench press of 1,102 pounds—a record no one else had surpassed in two years.
I walked him over to the dumbbell rack with my gaze locked on his awesome glutes as he strode across the floor. The dude had some incredible butt muscles, and it was hard to avoid watching them bob and swell as he walked naked.
I went to the middle of the rack but Lance went right towards the end, where the heaviest dumbbells were. Luckily, our college had a decent football program so we had a nicely outfitted gym. Lance reached down and pulled two 60-pound dumbbells into his grip and looked at me with a shrug.
The way his traps bunched up made my cock throb and my balls tingle again. I was definitely going to have a very wealthy pent-up supply of cream for him when this was all over.
He started pumping his biceps with almost comical ease—and this was his only his warm-up! He finished ten, twenty…thirty reps without slowing and I had to stop him. It was evident that this was no challenge to him, so we went over to biceps curl machine and loaded it up. Maybe 60 pounds in each hand was no contest, but what about four 45-pound plates?
This time his handsome face grimaced as he started bending his elbows. I watched his arms shake and his jaw tighten as he fought against 180 pounds using only his upper arms.
“Maybe we should start off light….”
“I…can do…this,” he groaned. Then he had the first curl completed. There was a fat vein caressing his biceps and I could see it pulse as the fibers of brawn pressed against his skin. He lowered the handles with a metallic crash, and began the second curl.
He again struggled, but his face was calmer and I think I saw him beginning to smile.
The third curl moved with a smoothness the first two lacked.
By the fifth curl, he had a smile on his face, and by the tenth one his cock was visibly lengthening and swelling. Clearly, he was enjoying this.
“Let’s move on,” I said, watching his cock growing with slight anxiousness.
Lance let the handles go with a resounding bang and stood up, rubbing his right upper arm with his free hand. “Feels good,” he reported. By the look of his prick, that was an understatement.
“Wanna try the leg press?” I suggested. “Let your upper body take a rest.”
“Awesome,” he said.
I knew that his legs were likely to be incredibly strong. They looked like they could press a fucking Mack truck, so I started heavy. I had 360 lbs. loaded—8 45-pound disks—when Lance said, “More.”
He nodded and smiled. His dick had calmed itself slightly but I could see a gleaming drop of pre already forming at the tip. After I loaded two more 45-pound disks on, I placed my towel on the bench and he positioned himself under the plate, pushing his bare feet against it and pulling his knees to his chest.
Again, the first push was a strain for him, but something told me he liked that part. He liked being tested. He liked the sensation of his muscles being challenged. His legs started ti shake and I couldn’t tell if the thing was even moving. I started forward to remove some plates when it finally budged.
It was harder for him this time. I was still thinking we needed to reduce the weight, but after five or six presses and a sheen of sweat had formed on his skin, the weights were moving more smoothly and picking up speed, and by the twelfth rep instead of being fatigued, it looked like it was growing increasingly easy for him.
He did twenty reps of 450 pounds. By the end, it looked like he was pushing feathers.
As he extracted himself from the machine, it was hard not to notice that Lance was completely aroused. His long, thick cock was standing straight up and throbbing hard. A glistening stream of pre was drooling from its mouth and the muscles of his legs stood out starkly with incredible vascularity across every inch.
He was also breathing hard, his cobblestone belly extending and his massive chest rising and falling. “What’s next?” he asked, now clearly eager to keep going.
What was he feeling—besides the obvious arousal? I’d seen this look in his eyes before. He wanted to attack me, to fuck me, overwhelming me until I was shoving my cock down his throat and pumping fat gluts of cream into his throbbing muscles.
It was time, I thought, for a shoulder workout. I was saving his pecs for the big contest, the world record, and I admit that I was excited to see what would happen. I loved Lance’s mighty chest. It suggested masculine power and virility more than any other of his ample attributes. The carpet of dark fur glistened with sweat and I could smell his funky male perfume as he passed me.
He threw my towel in place and sat down. I moved the pin all the way to the bottom and then loaded on the additional weights as well, overburdening the machine. My heart was beating hard, excited and aroused in equal measures. A fat pump of my own ample pre sizzled along the ponderous inches of my prick and stained my shorts.
Fuck, I was horny!
Lance exhibited the now-familiar pattern again. The first few pumps of the weight taxed his strength. I watched with fascination and desire as his delts swelled and stretched. Then, with growing ease and that handsome smile on his features, the strain decreased until he was shoving hundreds of pounds upward again and again, and I watched the round lobes of his shoulders swell and glisten.
His cock was red and shining. I longed to feel it in my ass. It would be hard as steel and hot as the sun. He’d push himself inside me and groan with pure bliss, and then I’d flip him over and plunge inside him and explode, pushing fat fountains of cream into his body and watching him grow even bigger.
But he wasn’t done yet.
“More,” he growled, breathing hard.
“What do you want to…?”
“Squats,” he said.
Fuck. The way he said it. He wanted to push that amazing ass of his until his whole body was screaming.
As he stood up, I could see that the muscles we’d trained so far were already larger than when he entered the gym. The muscles of his upper legs, his arms and his shoulders and upper back—they were all out-sized, forced to grow from the concentration of each exercise. And now he was going to perform a set of squats that was probably going to cause me to spontaneous ejaculation.
My cock was throbbing and stiff. I knew that if I took it out I’d started launching ropes of hot, sticky cum all over the fucking place. My balls would seize up and I’d be fountaining load after load of cream just looking at Lance, until he came over and attached his mouth to my unending flood and started sucking down my muscle milk as I watched his body grow even more massive than it was now.
The bar across his shoulders sagged with the weight he and I had placed on it. The muscles of his thighs stood out starkly and he sucked in a deep breath before he sank slowly to his haunches. His dick, red and shiny, stuck out before him and a thick string of clear honey drooled from the lips of his massive meat.
He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow and let out a low, deep, feral noise as he started his first rise, attempting to lift 800 pounds, nearly three times his own body weight.
This was obviously insane.
I was beginning to think Lance was going to finally fail at one of these attempts. That we had gone too far, pushed on by what he had done. Was he going to hurt himself? Was he going to tear his muscles apart trying to achieve the impossible?
Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed the weight upwards.
I had never seen anything like this. Sweat was pouring off his naked skin. The muscles all over his body were shaking and straining. His eyes were locked on mine and I was watching for any change in his confidence, any sign that he needed help.
I was about to intervene, to rush in and help him if I could (and I sort of doubted that), when I saw a change in his feature. His face calmed and his kissable lips quirked into a grin and I knew he had it.
I knew he was going to accomplish the impossible.
The latter half of his squat moved with a sudden smoothness and then he was standing there, his breath coming fast as he regained his feet and was smiling at me.
A smile that told me that my ass was going to be in trouble when we were alone.
Then he started a second squat, sinking with relative ease and pushing the weight back up.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Each subsequent squat became easier until, again, his body had somehow adjusted itself to allow him to do what he required of it.
After twelve squats of 800 pounds, he set the sagging iron bar in the rack and stood up straight. His cock was throbbing hard and I was almost sure he was going to cum right there on the gym floor. I’d never seen him so worked up before.
He was insanely aroused.
Maybe it didn’t help matters that the squats had made his muscular ass jut out like an invitation to fuck. I had never before seen such an amazing and prominent set of glutes, with thick hard arches and deep dimples. I wondered if I would even be capable of pushing my dick between those mountainous muscular buttocks.
But he wasn’t done yet. We still had a record to break.
We loaded up a bar over a weight bench, but I has to ask, “Do you know how dangerous this is?”
“You’ve seen what I’m capable of.”
“But this,” I said, gesturing at the set-up, “this is insane. You’re attempting the equipped world record but you’re unequipped. You’re fucking naked, dude.”
“What’s that mean?”
I took out my phone and showed him the article about powerlifting records. Heat was pouring off his body and his deep masculine funk was working on me like pheromones. “Unequipped means you’re not using any support. And usually even an unequipped attempt means you use wrist straps and a weight belt.” I looked up at him. “Stuff meant to keep your insides on your insides. Pressure against your strain like armor. You’re not even wearing a jockstrap!”
My cock twitched thinking about Lance wearing only a jockstrap for some reason.
“You should have a bench shirt and elbow wraps and…I mean, you’re naked!”
“I’m definitely naked,” he said. He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
“It’s super dangerous!”
He tilted his head down and looks serious. “I can do it.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re….”
“I,” he repeated slowly, folding his gargantuan arms across his gargantuan chest, “can do it.”
“Well,” I admitted, looking my roommate’s bulging beauty up and down, “you sure fucking look like you can do it.”
Lance just winked.
He clapped his hands together and I watched his upper arms explode with power. He laid his wide back down on the bench and pushed himself beneath the bar. His chest was huge, bulging up and thick as hell.
Just from his confidence, I had no doubt he could do it. Then I looked at the bar, sagging at both ends under the weight of more than half-a-ton of steel and I grew scared. Fuck, just hauling that weight over here and mounting it on the bar had got me winded. “Lance, maybe….”
But before I got more than two words out, he had gripped the bar and pushed it from its moorings.
He was holding over a thousand pounds above his chest using only his arms, which were shaking so hard I wondered if they were going to shatter. His face grimaced into a look of pain or intense concentration, I couldn’t tell which, and then he lowered the bar against his chest and rested half-a-ton of steel on his upper body.
His skin was red. Sweat was dripping off the bench. He started breathing hard, taking deep, quick breaths as he prepared for his world-record attempt.
No one had ever done this before. And Lance hadn’t even set foot inside a gym for months.
All at once his entire body tensed and he started shoving against the weight and gravity to defy logic and common sense, as he started trying to push the weight off his body. In the same moment, I grew intensely scared and sure that he wouldn’t be able to do this—but he wasn’t going to stop. He was going to hurt himself trying this stunt.
Suddenly, something possessed me. Some insane idea. Something crazy.
I pushed off my shorts and kicked them away, allowing my prick to swell to its full extents and throb to arousal. My balls ached and felt like they weighed a ton. A heavy delivery of pre-cum swelled from the lips of my cock and fell towards the floor. I moved to the bench and took his ankles in my hands. Heat rose from him as his unsuccessful attempt continued. Then I moved forward, separating his legs and moving my throbbing meat towards his wet, furry, hot fuck hole.
I started exploding with cream before I even reached him, nearly letting lose of his legs as the overwhelming sensation of orgasmic release hit me with both barrels. I had to lean over to position the head of my massive cock at his backdoor as I held his heavy legs aloft and he was groaning and huffing air, the weight of a car on his chest.
I kissed the tip of my prick against his asshole, shooting cum inside him and painting his insanely muscular butt with cream. I was cumming a steady stream, now, and finally with a hard shove I seated myself inside him, pumping every drop of my pent-up load inside his massive body.
His growth started immediately.
I stretched my head on my neck, gulping in air as my body grew incredibly hot. I was sinking deeply into a massive orgasm that was shaking my body as my cock delivered a seemingly endless supply of cum to Lance’s body. I heard—and felt—him growl and I looked down and watched his muscles begin to expand with new power.
The bar moved.
He was looking at me as I fucked him. His ocean-colored eyes were wild and ferocious.
I came even harder. I had never felt so good in my entire life as I delivered fat pumps of hot creamy cum inside his butt and fed his body all that it could take.
His arms and chest were swelling with muscle. Fat cables wound over each globe of his chest and his biceps and triceps bulged with superhuman growth.
The bar was inching its way upwards. His arms shook and I realized he was now supporting his own legs, holding himself open for me, and I began to run may hands along his legs to feel the muscle growing there, as well.
The bar was rising and so was Lance, because his glutes and the muscles of his back were swelling with growth.
He was halfway there. He was shoving against the half-ton of steel with every ounce of strength that he owned—and he was gaining more and more power with every passing second.
I started moving my hips, feeling his ass gripping the fat inches of my cock. I could feel my dick growing in unison to him, and the sensation of growth made me cum even harder.
Cum was gushing out of his ass, splashing hot and wet against me.
The bar was nearly fully extended.
I shoved myself home, plunging my meat all the way inside him and at the same moment, he straightened his arms and held over a ton of steel above his body.
Then he started cumming, too, blasting fat fountains of cream across his developing muscles. It splashed against him, running like rivers between each ballooning muscle head, splattering into the thick carpet of fur that coated his swelling pectorals.
He racked the bar with a resounding metallic clang, his hands still curled around it, as we came together.
And he grew.
And he grew.
And he grew.
In retrospect, Lance’s unusual wardrobe decision—or more accurately the decided lack thereof—proved providential and advantageous. Sure, you can go online and find clothes to fit even the largest male frame, and there are specialty stores for the “big & tall” that accommodate those of either stature, or both.
Lance was now in a rather extraordinary league of his own, and even if he were not averse to the wearing of clothes, anything he could possibly squeeze his body’s dimensions into would do very little to hide its new and rather outrageous contours.
Everything was bigger, and I do mean everything. As he had lain there on that weight bench with my dick pumping inside his ass, I watched his body swelling beyond even what I could have imagined possible.
The muscle swelled as if it were being inflated, and maybe they were and I was the one accomplishing the inflating. As much as Lance insisted that he wasn’t doing anything and all his unusual muscular development was my achievement, I couldn’t help but wonder why I had never had an effect like this—nor had anyone else as far as I knew—before meeting him.
The sensation of pumping a near-constant and seemingly unlimited stream of cum inside him had been accompanied by an equally powerful orgasmic eruption that shook me to the core of my being. It was like…well, I don’t even know what it was fucking like! You know how it feels when you finally reach that peak of sexual fulfillment and part of your soul takes hold of your cock when you cum, and your body gets hot and cold and your breath catches and your toes curl and you think you might die but you don’t?
That sensation—unless, I guess, you’re Sting—lasts between 5 and 20 seconds for the average American male. I wasn’t timing it as I stood there with my dick lodged inside Lance’s tight hole and his muscles were swelling and his own cock stretched and thickened into a tool of magnificence, but I would guess I probably experienced a 60 or 90 second orgasmic explosion during which my dick felt like it was streaming unending ropes of cream. Just pause and look at your watch and see how long a minute and a half orgasm actually lasts, and imagine yourself pumping a stream of cum the whole time.
It was...intense. To say the least.
My balls physically hurt afterwards, as you would imagine, and I was pretty certain I’d never manage to cum again.
I looked up that average orgasm length afterwards on Google, as well as the amount of sperm a guy like me should expect to be spurting from his little man, and that amount is one teaspoon.
One. Little. Teaspoon.
Dudes, I know when you blow your load you imagine that you’re flinging a metric fuck-ton of your baby-jam all over your partner of choice, but it’s about the same amount of sugar you probably put in your morning cup o’ joe.
How many teaspoons was I capable of producing, now? And how was that possible without me blowing a fucking gasket or something? Where was it all coming (heh) from?
Lance swelled with power after his world-record-breaking weightlifting success that only he and I would ever know happened. He was breathing hard, his skin flushed red, his muscles bulging and throbbing, fat veins of blood traversing his brawn, and I ran my hands along his legs and felt them swelling, too. He was gulping air into his lungs and his arms were out to the sides of his body as it continued to grow larger and larger.
I felt my unbelievable orgasmic explosion finally subsiding and I pulled myself free of the vice of his ass. He seemed unwilling to let me go, squeezing against my departure like a greedy child who wanted more candy, but I was out of juice and my balls hurt and my dick felt like it was on fucking fire.
I had to actually step back away from his hot, swollen body to manage myself from his butt. My dick was red and shiny with juice and covered in a thick network of veins. I moved my hands onto my cock, surrounding my meat in my grip and struggled against Lance’s desire to hold me inside him, physically pulling myself loose of him. I managed at last to withdraw my throbbing meat from his unyielding ass and was again awestruck by what had happened.
I was fucking humungous! My dick was…outrageous! As thick as my wrist and inches longer than it had been only minutes ago! It was standing straight out from my body and visibly throbbing with the beats of my heart. It felt now like it weighed about eighty pounds and as its weight was no longer supported inside Lance’s velvet vice, it sank quickly as it deflated and I watched the surface growing smoother and the head begin to dangle towards the floor.
Spunk was fucking everywhere. I’d need three or four more towels just to wipe up all the excess!
He groaned and it sent a shiver through me and, incredibly, made my dick throb and tingle with renewed lust. There was just no possible way I had a drop of cum left to give him, but my dick seemed to have other ideas.
I looked at him lying on the bench and he looked groggy or dazed. And why shouldn’t he be? It looked like he had just packed on a couple dozen extra pounds of muscle in the space of a few minutes! If I thought he looked big before, now he looked crazy huge! Mr. Olympia sized.
“Fuck,” he said with a low moan. It sounded like an order for sex and my cock started tingling again.
“You can say that again,” I replied. My dick was rapidly shrinking from its gargantuan extents and thankfully it looked like I was a grower not a shower. I mean, fuck yeah, I was a shower with a 7- or 8-inch monster, but at least I wasn’t going to have to haul around that crazy monstrosity in my jeans. It was drooling the remnants of my load, probably just shoving out whatever was left in its fat shank when it shrank.
“Did you get the number of that truck that hit me?” he asked, grinning that fucking beautiful grin of his. He looked like Samson or Hercules lying there, and his own fat prick was now as limp as mine, but his looked like it was determined to retain its new growth. It was a gorgeous fat length or perfect male sex, and I wanted very badly to lick it clean with my tongue.
He sat up and looked down at his bigger chest, moving his hand up to run his touch across the rippled surface of the globes mounted there. He fingers dug into the thick carpet of his furry chest and smeared his cum all over like lacquer. “Jesus, Dave,” he said. “What did you do to me?”
“I… You… Made you bigger, obviously.”
Lance looked up at me smiling, easing my trepidation. “Obviously.” He moved his hand off his chest to his opposite arm and tensed his bigger biceps into full-blown power. It was mind-bending, how big his arms were now. Bigger than any I’d ever seen. He was painting a gleaming trail of cum across his swollen muscles. It was fucking sexy as fuck. “Damn,” he said.
“You feel okay?”
He moved his legs off the bench and stood up. And then kept standing up. His body seemed to be…adjusting to its new larger extents. The veins were being subsumed by the intense cuts and striations of muscle everywhere, and his skin was glowing and sleek. He had initially looked absurdly vascular and his skin was almost non-existent, as if he were an anatomy chart of male muscle. But now he was exhibiting his more usual…physical beauty.
But he was indeed—and undeniably—bigger everywhere. “Damn,” he said again, looking down at me. “Come ‘ere.”
“Over there?” He nodded. “Where you are?”
“Right here.” He pointed to the floor at his feet.
I walked towards him, feeling the intense heat from his newly-developed body growing stronger with every step. He was nothing but a wall of muscle, a mountain of it, bulging out thickly from every inch of him. No one ever looked that big. I didn’t think anyone ever could.
But it looked…right. That was all I could think of looking at Lance. He didn’t look weird or outsized or dangerous. He looked…perfect.
I stood next to him and placed my hands against his chest. He closed his eyes as I touched him and groaned again, making my dick start to plump. I rubbed my thumbs against his fat nipples and he sucked in a sudden, harsh breath. “Feels nice,” he said.
“I can tell,” I replied, because I could. His fat dick was already swelling as I played with his sensitive rubbery nubs and ran the edges of my thumbnails over his tits. They were as large as the last knuckle my pinkie finger and growing hard as I entertained my desires.
He opened his eyes and licked his lips and bent his head down to mine, several inches below, and pressed his warm mouth to mine. The kiss was almost chaste, compared with how he usually attacked me, tender and loving, and he said, quietly, “thank you,” before kissing my lips again.
He was hot and he was hard, and, yes, that refers also to his dick and his libido, but as he pressed himself towards me and I felt his naked form against my much smaller body, heat was still emanating from him like some human oven, and his muscles were not only large, they were firm and nearly unyielding.
I tried to move my arms around his larger bulk and he moaned with desire, wrapping his own strong arms around me as well and squeezing me.
It was like being surrounded by velvet-covered rocks that moved. And he smelled so fucking good.
I could feel my dick throbbing and my balls tingling and my own desire climbing like a thermometer at the equator. Before things got too heated—again—i pulled my mouth from his (reluctantly) and told him, “Dudes are gonna start showing up to use the gym and I made kind of a mess.”
He turned his handsome head on his thick and muscular neck and looked down at the cold puddles of cum on the floor. “Oh,” he said, “yeah.”
“Probably should clean that up.”
He looked back at me. “Probably.”
“I’m not sure you should help me, though. I mean, every time you get some of me on you….”
“Not every time,” he said, rolling his eyes for added sarcastic effect.
I pushed myself from his embrace with some difficulty and regarded his new dimensions, raising a doubtful eyebrow regarding his protest. I looked him up and down, from the top of his shaggy mane of luscious curls across the impressive and vast mountains and valleys of brawn bulging on his torso to the fatter, longer shank of sex jutting from his groin to the, Jesus, size 14 feet at the other end of his body. “No,” I agreed, “not every time.”
He was smiling his beautiful smile again and shrugged his cantaloupe-sized delts. “Maybe you’re right.”
I pushed at his massive (and unyielding) chest and said, “I’ll see you back in the dorms. Can you just…put all the weights back? I kind of think someone walking in and seeing that,” I said, nodding towards the bar groaning with over 1,000 pounds of steel mounted on it, “might start asking questions.”
“Plus,” he said, “it’s just polite.”
“Putting your stuff away when you’re done with it.”
For a constantly-naked, absurdly handsome, incredibly capable superman with a 10-inch prick, Lance was the very model of courteousness.
Of course everyone noticed that Lance was…incredibly large, suddenly. I could see it written on faces and reflected in saucer-sized eyes and dropped jaws. He would enter a room and all talking would cease and every eye turned towards this handsome naked colossus, well over six feet high and bulging with more muscle than your average comic book superhero. I’m pretty sure that more than one dick immediately inflated to full erection and started splooging and all the girls were sopping wet. My own dick was in overdrive even more than usual around him, and all he had to do was wink at me and I was fountaining ropes of hot cream.
Curiously, no one said anything to me or asked anything of him. He continued to attend classes, now barely fitting his broad, heavy, muscular bulk into the chairs. His cock and balls were monstrous and seemed to be chubbed into a constant state of near-arousal, and somehow he was looking even more handsome with that thick beard and those chiseled features and piercing sea-colored gaze.
Maybe it was like Harry Potter and they were all Muggles and Lance and I were magic-users. Muggles saw magic all the time in those books, but simply elected to ignore it.
Lance was overtly and observably magic, growing bigger, more powerful, and more beautiful almost on a daily basis, while I was packing sexual equipment so conspicuous and pornographic it defied explanation and I could cum almost constantly when we were together.
He decided we should take it easy for a while and I agreed with some reluctance. That meant that he could fuck me, but I couldn’t fuck him, and I could (attempt to) suck his prick but he shouldn’t suck mine. I was still cumming uncontrollably like a fountain but Lance wasn’t taking it inside his body, and I know I enjoyed the sensation of his massive meat shoving inside my little butt with something akin to insane bliss.
His cock was…well, it was its own kind of magic. Not as huge as mine (not that we took the time to measure when we could be fucking instead, but we did enjoy rubbing up against each other and I was obviously the larger of us at least in that one department) but thick and hot and the man had some butt muscles that could ram that thing home like a machine, and all I ever wanted was more.
So I’m a bossy bottom. Sue me.
He also seemed to curtail his other trysts, though I never asked that of him. Maybe he used to have sex with others because he worried about wearing me out, because the dude was constantly horned up. Luckily for him—and for me—my own libido had inflated to match his, and I was starting to wonder if I should join my boyfriend in his naked lifestyle just to relieve the painful pressure of trying to keep my massive meat cooped up when it was throbbing and bulging whenever I looked at him, or even thought about him.
And how was I supposed to stop thinking about a nearly seven-foot-tall mountain of naked muscle who wanted nothing more than to be having sex with me at all hours of the day and night? It was like having a plate of chocolate in front of you and told not to taste it.
Don’t get me wrong, we were getting our eight hours of shut-eye in, but from the minute we got back together in our room until one or the other of us suggested that it was time to retire to separate beds, i was sucking him or he was fucking me. I mean, it was almost literally non-stop, and if you think that kind of activity would get dull when you’re doing it every day for hours, let me tell that it’s anything but dull when your cock can constantly cum and your boyfriend has the energy, fortitude, and staying power of a rutting rhino.
We also talked, because as much as Lance loved sex, he also loved to just cuddle. And for those of you who hear the word cuddle and sneer, might I suggest you try cuddling with a musclebound stallion with the face of an angel and the capabilities of an expert sensualist? When Lance was kissing you, and stroking you, with his soft warm lips pressed to yours and his talented hands caressing every inch of your naked body, you’re going to change your opinion concerning “just cuddling” and fast!
For Lance—and for me under his tutelage and careful instruction—making love was exactly that. I felt like I was the most important person in the entire world to him. He made me feel safe and happy and content, and when we were into heavier activities he made me feel excited and thrilled and energized. He read me like some erotic book, and there were many, many more pages than I ever realized.
There was only one problem, though, and I tried not to let on how much my balls ached. It seemed like no matter how much I beat off in the shower or stroked a heavy load into the sink or the toilet or sucked myself dry (it’s amazing what you can accomplish when you own a foot-long cock and have some time to yourself) I could never fully relieve myself of the magic elixir that was turning my boyfriend into Superman.
Allow me to pause here for a moment and say a word about sucking your own dick. Now, I understand that for some men, this is the Nirvana of masturbatory pleasure. You imagine, as I did, that if stroking your stiffy with a palm full of spit, luxuriating in the sensations a hard cock can deliver, and obviously since you’re jerking your own meat you know exactly what feels good, then pulling your own cock inside your own mouth must be just the perfect expression of self-loving.
Those of you who, like me, have been able to accomplish this goal may attest the same realization that I had, which is to say that no matter how much you want to suck your own dick, that activity cannot possibly match the sensation of having an expert and enthusiastic cocksucker attending to your little guy.
Lance, it probably goes without saying, is both an expert and an enthusiast when it came to sucking me off. Even that first day when he went down on me, literally, almost without preamble and applied his ample talents to my joint, I knew that here was a man who fucking loved sucking cock.
You can tell when someone loves it from the sounds they make, those pauses when they pull their mouth off your meat, gasping and licking their lips, gazing with reverence and hunger at your dick like it was the last meal they’re ever going to get.
And it’s not just the mouth action, right? It’s tongue and hands and fingers and occasional teeth all working in some magical combination that you, yourself, cannot hope to match.
When I started trying to pull my cockhead to my lips, it was more athletic event than sexual escapade. It was a physical trial of sorts, easing my long, fat dick nearer and nearer towards my face. And I needn’t remind you that my cock presents an additional challenge at it throbs there above your face due to my overabundant supply of sexual fluid that become more copious the more excited I become.
So as I neared my goal, my excitement in attaining the taste of my own cock on my own tongue—the “winning” of that goal as well as the sexual anticipation—made me spurt and drool from the mouth of my monster with growing volume, and try as I might to capture my own spurts and flows in my mouth, more often than not as I spasmed and jerked in that weird doubled-over position, I was cumming in my eyes or up my nose or drooling a steady stream of pre all over my face like warm honey.
Some guys like that. I’ve been with a few, edging myself to the point of wild insanity before pointing my throbbing meat at a guy’s joy-filled expression of anticipation and shoving my hot load all over him, but it’s not my personal cup of tea. Also, have you ever had cum up your nose? Fun, it is not.
When at last I mastered this talent and could, with relative ease, throw my legs over my head and point my cock unerringly at my open mouth and push myself inside myself, I then had to either pump my legs to fuck my mouth or jerk my head up and down to perform self-fellatio and neither of those activities, my friend, is very comfortable or gratifying.
No, I advise you to go out and find or hire someone who is not only good at sucking a cock, but enjoys it with the gusto and fervor of a dog with his last, you should excuse the expression, bone.
Of the many sexual activities that Lance and I enjoyed together, I may have missed the overwhelming joy of his mouth around my spurting cock more than I was willing to admit.
The dude could really, really suck dick.
He was often so engaged in this singular pursuit that I might wonder if he realized that my cock was attached to a person. But them he would swallow me and suck me and raise his sea-colored eyes to mine and I could see in them the absolute worship the dude had for my cock and the absolutely love he had for me, too. And then I’d find myself exploding even harder down his throat, gasping for air from the onslaught of absolute pleasure.
So obviously, after some weeks of our mutually-agreed-upon sexual limitations had passed, I was feeling a bit…antsy.
I was lounging in his arms, my ass throbbing after a particularly athletic fuck-fest, my constantly-drooling dick still drooling warm cream on my belly as I made leisurely little circles in the pool of cum, and I asked him, “How big do you think you’ll get?”
He made his meat bulge against me, a hard hot fat length of cock inflating and pressing into my back reminding me of the size of him (as if I needed that), “Did I hurt you?”
“You never hurt me, or you hurt me the way I like being hurt,” I responded. I gathered some cum on my fingers and sucked it inside my mouth. I made so much of it that I was accustomed to doing this frequently, just to keep it from being everywhere. I probably swallowed more of my cum than Lance did by this point, and I loved the taste of it—and his as well. My sucking sounds made him groan longingly and his heavy muscular arms squeezed me slightly. “No, I mean, this.” I lifted my head and butted against his pectoral globe, indicating his muscular bulk.
He flexed his chest into hard power and lifted my head with the solid globe of hard meat. “How big do you want me to get?”
The question sent chills through me. I felt a thrill of excitement, like the thrill I had experienced watching him that morning in the gym. Watching him grow—and knowing that I was the one causing it to happen—there was almost nothing more exciting than that! Plugging my cock into his ass and opening my spigot fully and just…letting myself go, pumping everything I could inside him and pushing his muscles beyond human capacity….
I mean, fuuuuuuuck. My cock jerked and a heavy stream of cum shot out, splattering against my chest and neck. My whole cock sent hard shocks of sexual bliss through my body just imagining those moments.
“I see,” he said, chuckling softly.
I turned over on his body to face him. He was a pile of boulders I was climbing across, and I rubbed my spurting cock against his, slowly grinding my hips against him. I was lubing the space between our skin with ropes of warm cream. “I want you as big as you want to become. As powerful, as beautiful, as muscular as you can dream of being. That morning, when you…when I was watching you growing, cumming inside you, fucking you as you swelled bigger and bigger. I…I never felt anything like that.”
“So I’m not too big?”
I kissed his mouth and spurted fat fountains of cum from my massive cock. “You will never be too big for me.”
He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed each other for a long time. “You wanna fuck me?” he asked at last.
It felt like my dick exploded.
He kissed me again and pushed my body off his. Strings of warm cum connected our naked forms together and I was pumping fat fountains all over his muscles before he physically lifted me up and surrounded my spurting cock head with his mouth.
I had forgotten what the sensation of Lance sucking my prick was like, the intensity of his desire and the overwhelming nature of his need. I felt immediately fulfilled and finally complete as we connected again. He swallowed my entire cock down his throat, surrounding my hot meat with slick warmth and constricted against me, like his throat was his ass and I was fucking him.
I gasped and swooned and started really pumping then! Not the dribbles and spurts of cum I had become accustomed to but really letting my engines rev into the red and gushing with the throttle wide open.
I put my hands on his wide, bulging shoulders to balance myself against the feeling that I was going to pass out from the sudden but not unexpected influx of pure overwhelming sexual bliss and waited for his growth to begin again.
My load was huge and unstoppable, pouring into his body now that he allowed it, and he gulped and swallowed with eager enthusiasm. He was a Hoover attached to my hose, and I could not push cum inside him fast enough.
At first I could not sense anything happening to him. Maybe this was one of those times when nothing would happen, but that seemed weird and impossible since he had not allowed me to feed him my cock in weeks. I had no idea how or why what happened between was happening but it seemed to me that after neglecting his need for so long, his body would be hungry to swell with fresh muscle.
He pushed me off him, shoving my hips away from his face and my cock popped out of his mouth, still erupting its huge load, and he threw himself around on the bed, nearly sending me flying, and shoved his ass in my face.
Fuck, he was hot! The smell of him, of his intense need and overwhelming sexual desire rose like a gorgeous perfume that stung my senses and nearly made my eyes water. It was like a fog of pure fuck rose from his hole and pulled me towards him, and I grabbed my throbbing, spurting, rock-hard dick in both hands, pointed the exploding mouth at his ass and shoved myself home.
He groaned with pure pleasure, an animal, feral sound that shook me and started bucking against me, making me fuck his ass rather than waiting for me to start.
He needed this as much as I did—maybe even more! Fuck, I knew how much I ached for this, but now it seemed that my own neglected desire was a flickering light before the shining, overheated sun of Lance’s absolute need to be fucked by my magic monster prick.
My eyes rolled up in their sockets and my body shook and all I could do was stand there as he shifted and bucked before me, fucking his ass against my massive cock as my uncontrollable eruption of hot cum filled him up inside.
Oh my God, his ass. His wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous and amazing ass. How had I forgotten this feeling, my cock inside his wet warmth, surrounded by perfection, stroking every inch of my hard meat with a million tiny fingers that sent violent, nearly uncontrolled spasms of pure, raw sex along my whole magnificent prick. I felt hot and hard again, and like I was swelling with new inches and pumping literal ropes of cum inside him.
My balls were hot and swollen and unstoppable. I took his narrow hips in my hands and started to fuck him as he fucked me, and the sensation of pure sex redoubled.
How could I even stand this bliss? How was I not driven crazy from pleasure? No man on Earth could withstand this perfect heavenly sustained sensation of absolute physical ecstasy.
“Fuck me,” he growled, he begged, he ordered, he pleaded, shoving the bulging muscled mounds of his perfect ass at me, surrounding my meat with his velvet vise. “Fuck me hard!”
It was a shout from God. It was a command to be obeyed. It was an undeniable and uncontrollable requirement.
Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me bigger. Fuck me with power and might and beauty unmatched.
Fuck this god of sex and perfection.
Make me grow!
“It must have been the combination of things,” I said, sitting atop Lance’s rock-hard member and feeling him pushing his meat deeply inside me. He wasn’t necessarily fucking me, I guess, if we’re being technical. His cock was lodged inside my ass and I was sitting on his groin, just enjoying the perception of feeling filled up with his hard heat. He would occasionally flex his dick as if to remind me (and as if I needed reminding) that he was still inside me, and I’d realize the unique sensation of having inches of erect cock connecting me so intimately to his body, almost as if we were one person.
He’d remain hard inside me, occasionally shifting his hips and allowing me to enjoy the sensation of his massive prick sliding along my tight chute, sending thrills of sensual bliss all through my body, and then he’d seat himself inside again and move his hands across my naked torso, caressing my chest and belly, playing with my nipples, groaning his pleasure as he groped and fondled me.
My foot-high cock, throbbing with hard, dull pulses of bliss, would release another thick flow of warm cream to cascade down its vein-covered sides and gather in my pubic bush and coat my balls and his rippled belly. He might lean forward and place his full, warm lips to my fount and suck at my unending flow, moaning with desire and looking up at my face as I fed him. He might wrap his giant paw around my fat meat and stroke up my length and gather a pool of cum in his hand and lick it clean, then re-apply his spit-soaked skin against me and tempt another flood from the mouth of my mammoth meat.
He shrugged, unconcerned as usual and simply loving our time together. “I’m not worried,” he reported. “It’s not like I’m not already big enough.”
I realized that I was more interested in seeing him continue to develop than he was. I wanted to know how big I could make him, as if his growth was my accomplishment, and a failure to make him grow was my defeat.
But I could hardly argue with his assessment, could I? He had continued to grow as I fucked him or he sucked me, but it was nowhere near the pace that it was that day in the gym. Perhaps his growth was back to ‘normal’ levels, and he was now so large that his gains as a percentage were more difficult to see.
When he grew, I could still feel that strange, erotic heat build everywhere on his body, and he would close his eyes when it hit him and groan with pleasure and his dick would inflate to erect to full glory and pump fat gouts of cum, reacting in erotic bliss to his further muscular development. It was easier to note his continued growth when we weren’t horizontal, as his head continued to rise farther above my own and his shoulders and lats increased their spread.
Everything was growing ever larger and all of it at the same pace. His cock was now nearing my own size owing solely to his overall increased dimensions, as if his body was required to retain its perfectly balanced aspects so that no part of him was out of proportion with any other part.
I could have been measuring him and keeping records of what was happening, but he didn’t want me to. He refused to return to the gym to surpass his previous lifting records, but he said he wasn’t afraid of growing. “I just want to be with you,” he would say in his deeper, more sonorous tones, and then he’d smile that god damned beautiful smile and my cock would inflate and start pumping fresh streams of cum.
There was really only one problem that we needed to deal with, and that was our shared college advisor, Mr. Sanderson. While everyone else seemed content—or at least seemed unconcerned—with Lance’s insane muscular development and height increases that were occurring over the course of weeks or even days, Mr. Sanderson insisted that Lance “see a doctor” in case his “metabolism was out of whack” and these “unusual growth patterns” were symptoms of something worse.
I mean, Jesus, all you had to do was look at him to see he was the healthiest fucking dude on campus! Obviously, Lance failed to mention that it was my frequent cum injections that were prompting his growth, and I failed to mention that my dick was a mammoth appendage that could cum literal buckets with the slightest motivation on Lance’s part, and that it could inflate from its limp nine-inch size to something akin to a baseball bat when provoked.
I mean, why further worry the dude?
But Lance was nothing if not polite and accommodating, so he agreed to see a nurse in the college Med Center just to check things out.
I’m not exactly sure what occurred behind the closed doors of the exam room, but I have a suspicion that Lance walked in there with his naked self all pumped-up and horny as a dog in heat and gave the nurse a rather intense and thorough education concerning the art of love-making. I was somewhat in awe that anyone besides me could accommodate his size and strength, but the look on his face when he exited the medical center (naked, of course) spoke volumes about what had occurred inside.
“Everything okay?” I asked, standing up from the bench where I had been awaiting his re-emergence, and adjusting my meat at the sight of my handsome lover. Fuck he made my cock hard!
He grinned and half up his two thumbs and said, “Everything’s perfect.” Then he looked down at my over-burdened crotch and the thick length of prick bulging like a salami in my jeans and added, “Let’s go fuck.”
How could I say no to such a polite request?
We were approaching Spring Break and I started to wonder how we would be spending those two weeks—apart like at Christmas, or together at some hedonistic getaway. I mean, every hour I spent with him was more or less a hedonistic getaway, underlined with copious (some might say superabundant) sex and punctuated with long, leisurely cuddling sessions.
We were walking through campus between classes, him in his naked muscular perfection with his 10-inch meat swinging like a pendulum beneath his thick black pubic bush, me in my usual jeans, t-shirt and hoodie with my prominent meat shoved sideways in the packed crotch of my pants. It was a warm, late-winter day and the sun was high in the sky. His presence next to me was like a moving wall, hard and broad and powerful. The cool wind picks up his masculine scent and it surrounded me like perfume, a musky earthy smell like sex and sweat. “Remember what happened last time?” he asked me, his soft voice as resonant as boulders rolling down a mountain.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, as I recall your cock went into overdrive after two weeks spent apart and when we finally got back together you made me grow two sizes that day.”
“Just like the Grinch’s heart!” I said, and he rumbled a laugh. I loved making him laugh, even if it was an easy goal. I looked over—and up—at him. “Are you saying that’s something to be avoided or something to be aimed for?”
He shrugged and tilted his shaggy head. He had not cut his mane in weeks and it was now a dense cascade of gorgeous dark curls reaching nearly to his perfect, jutting ass. I insisted that he keep his beard trimmed and he insisted that I be the one to do it, if I was “going to be that adamant,” and I had learned how to style his thick facial hair into a beautiful full beard that accentuated his intense masculine visage. “I’m just calling attention to that fact.” He paused in his quick stride, owing to his longer legs, and lifted his arms, bulging his collection of insane brawn into deeply-defined balls and wedges and cables of muscle. It pushed up against his sun-kissed, golden-brown skin to reveal the insane cuts and fibers his brawn displayed. “Do you want more of this?” he asked, knowing my answer as my cock began to painfully shove itself sideways, quickly expanding in size and lust for him.
I may even have whimpered.
He just chuckled that he could do that to me so easily and set his hand on my shoulder. “I want whatever you want,” he said, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The sensation of the soft warmth of his mouth along with the roughness of his heavy beard made my cock pulse and I felt a strong tingle as my balls delivered a throb of pre along its fat inches.
“I kind of…”
“I kind of want to see how others react to you.”
I gestured vaguely around us. “Everyone here is sort of used to seeing you.” Even as I said it I realized the absurdity of that statement. Who could get used to seeing a naked seven-foot-high colossus striding along with a pennant of dark, luscious hair streaming behind his muscular ass like a flag of victory? I mean, the man’s 8-pack abs needed a new word to express how defined they were. “I kind of want to see the reaction of strangers to you.”
“Would that turn you on?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.
“Fucking everything turns me on about you,” I replied. “But…yeah. I think it would.”
“Okay,” he said, not even considering the request. “Where do you want to go?”
It was my duty to locate a suitable location for springing my naked boner-inducing boyfriend on an unsuspecting world, and it was a surprisingly difficult assignment.
Prolonged exposure to his constantly naked presence made me think we could go anywhere, but nudity laws are weird. He could parade himself about in the altogether around campus and the city because there were no laws prohibiting it. There were “decency” laws, but they were about actions and not about someone just, you know, being naked.
Once you started looking at beach communities, where one might assume that the difference between being naked and not—which sometimes only concerned what amounted do a banana hammock or a string and two circles of material just big enough to hid a woman’s (though not, of course, a man’s) nipples—is pretty slim, there were suddenly all sorts of naked prohibitions.
There were the occasional and mostly unofficial nude beaches, but that’s not what I wanted. I wanted a situation more or less like the one we were already in, but with a new audience not used to seeing Lance’s face, body, muscles, and cock parading about in the open air with all the unashamed pride that he could muster.
And he had a lot to be proud about.
We also had a limited budget and it had to be within driving distance, since no airline I was aware of would allow Lance to board sans pants (or even a shirt) and he refused, flatly, to wear any clothing. “Why should I cover myself up to avoid offending someone else’s definition of impropriety? That’s their hang-up, not mine.”
“Yes, right, only it makes it hard…”
“Heh, you said ‘hard,’” he observed, and he squeezed my cock with his usual open habit of doing pretty much whatever he wanted wherever he was.
I batted his hand away and continued, “It just makes it harder to find somewhere to go.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“Am I really?” I observed dryly.
“Let’s just go and have fun! Don’t worry so much about someone else’s problems. I never do.”
I couldn’t argue with that. After all, Lance was the type of dude who’s pull open my pants and go down on my plumping hard-on in the middle of the library. He walks around naked, and frequently erect. What the fuck did he care if someone else was offended?
Another problem I hadn’t counted on was fitting his bulk into the seat of a car. I finally had to rent a huge pick-up truck at a premium and we tossed our bags in the back and set off.
It was almost impossible to keep my eyes on the road, and more than once Lance reached over, undid my belt, pulled open my jeans, tugged out my prick, stroked me to erection and sucked my cock as we sped down the interstate, me pumping cum down his throat as I tried not to crash our truck into a guardrail.
I’m pretty sure we provided quite an interesting show to more than one long-haul trucker as he bobbed his shaggy head on my fountaining dick, groaning and sucking with equal fervor.
It’s not…impossible to dive a truck while a dude sucks your cock. It’s a challenge, I’ll admit that, but with practice (and I got a lot of practice) it’s a surprisingly satisfying way to pass the empty miles between fill-ups.
When we reached our destination, it was time to see exactly how we were going to be greeted by the locals. I’d found a cheap motel a couple of blocks from the beach where the majority of our Spring Break would be spent among all the other horny, drunken, eager college students and as I pulled in to the parking lot (and pulled out of Lance’s mouth) it was nightfall.
We grabbed our duffels from the back of the truck and headed towards the motel office to check in and get our room key. I was used to walking around with my naked boyfriend, but I still felt my heartbeat quicken in anticipation of how we’d be greeted by the front desk.
I opened the door for Lance and let him pass through first, ducking his head slightly as he squeezed his muscled bulk i through the doorway.
Once I circled around in front of him, I saw a young man sitting behind a large sheet of glass with eyes like saucers staring directly at Lance’s cock and balls. Lance merely stood there smiling, his arms at his sides, breathing quietly, enjoying the dude’s unabashed shock.
I approached his and waved my hand before his face, saying “Hello?” a couple of times before he snapped out of whatever reverie he was in and he flicked his gaze in my direction.
“Reservation for David Jenkins,” I reported. trying to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Guh,” he said.
“We’ll need two keys,” I said, “obviously.”
“David Jenkins. I have a reservation for the week. Seven days, seven nights.”
“Staying with me. Also for the week. Also seven days, seven nights.”
“I don’t think he can do that.”
“Do what?” Lance asked, stepping up to the window. His dick was even with the edge of the counter, and nearly working its way through the small open slot at the window’s lower edge.
“He’s naked,” the dude reported to me.
I turned and looked at Lance and feigned shock. “Holy shit,” I said calmly, “so he is.” I pulled out my credit card, nudged Lance’s heavy dick aside, and slid the card through the slot. “Just the one room,” I said.
“We’re gonna fuck a lot,” Lance added, “so we only need one bed.”
“What he said,” I agreed.
“Lots of fucking,” I repeated. “And actually I’m kind of horny right now, so if we could hurry this along? I’d really like to get my cock in his ass as soon as possible.”
“His cock,” Lance said, moving his hand onto by overburdened crotch, “my ass. In that order.”
“Yes,” Lance said, “it is, when he does it.” He looked suddenly concerned and asked, “It’s not illegal if he fucks me, is it? We don’t want to break any laws, so we, Dave?”
“Well, none that matter, anyway,” I said. The dude still hadn’t made a move to swipe my card, so I asked, “is there a problem?”
“He’s naked,” the dude repeated.
Lance planted his hands on his hips, framing his cock, and asked, “And…?”
“Look at it this way…Sam,” I said, reading his name off his name tag, “the sooner you get us checked in, the sooner you can stop trying to deal with the naked dude in the lobby. Make sense?”
Sam was just staring at Lance’s prick, again.
“I’m not gonna get any less nude if you keep staring at it,” Lance reported. He shifted his hips to and fro slightly to cause his massive meat to sway playfully.
As if in a dream, Sam took my card, swiped it, reached up to grab a key, slid them both back through to me, and said, “Room 12. Across the lot. Near the ice machine.”
“Two keys?” I asked.
“That’s okay,” Lance answered brightly. “I don’t have any pockets anyway.”
“Well, that was fun,” I observed as we walked across the parking lot towards our room.
“I’m used to it,” Lance said, glancing back at the office, “but he’ll be okay.”
“I’m sure he will,” I agreed. I was also sure he was already back in the employee restroom stroking out a loud with Lance’s face and body burned into his imagination. I reached over and rested my hand on his bare buttock as we walked, feeling his muscles stretch and bulge. “I suppose you get reactions like that a lot.”
He shrugged, and hung his heavy, and heavily-muscled, arm across my shoulders. “Sure. At first almost everyone is like that, but after a while they get used to it. Everybody does.”
He’d said those exact same words to me when we met, and I’m sure my reaction wasn’t so different from Sam’s. And now…I was used to it. I even preferred it.
I glanced down, my eyes attracted by something, and realized he was growing erect as we strode across the asphalt, his majestic prick swelling and rising, its long neck stretching and bulging as the head emerged from its tight cowl of foreskin.
He saw me watching him growing visibly aroused, his hardening prick wagging in front of him like a dousing rod, and he asked, “if you didn’t want that reaction, why did you start groping my butt?”
I grabbed as much of his hard, muscular ass as I could, working my fingers into the deep, warm, sweaty separation between his muscular globes and touched the tender heat of his hole. “Who said I didn’t want that reaction?”
It was our first night of vacation and I wanted to go out. Not that I was a party boy or anything, but I wanted to dance and I wanted to show off my naked boyfriend. There were three likely candidates for our opening night; the first was the self-proclaimed “official gay bar” of the town, called Rock Bottom, the second was either a motorcycle bar or a leather bar or both, called Cyclotron, and the third was a hot spot that lots of college kids of all persuasions visited with the unfortunate name of Freddy Toad’s, which I assumed was a cheap knockoff of Señor Frog’s.
We fucked each other for a good, long time but were rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the room door. We elected at first to ignore it (after all, I was pushed deep inside him, thrusting like a dude trying to knock a hole in the wall with his dick, Lance flat on his back on the rickety bed with his dick shoving fountains of cream in wild arcs and me standing on the ratty carpet with his ankles in my grip, pulling him wide open to fit me inside as I pumped him full of cum) but the visitor was rather insistent, so I yelled, “Hold your fucking horses!” and I extracted my spurting monster from his well-used ass and continued coming all over Lance’s butt and belly and chest until I could calm my jets and stop pumping cream out of my balls.
I walked to the door, my over-foot-long super-fat cock still at full power, drooling strings of cum as Lance sat up on the bed, his body overheated and thick with muscle, and I opened the door.
I’m not sure the cop standing outside could have looked more astonished than he was. He may not have been surprised that there were two dudes fucking behind that closed door (neither Lance nor I were particularly muted in our enthusiasm at that stage, vocalizing quite a variety of entreaties and reactions to our mutual pleasure) but seeing me open the door in my naked state with a dick bigger than any he had likely ever encountered, coated in a sheen of sweat and my own not-unimpressive muscular frame shredded and bulging, with the equally-nude monster of brawn lying on the bed behind me with his own dick only slightly smaller than my own tucking its throbbing head into the deep crevasse that was created by the largest set of pectoral globes this side of a Mr. Olympia stage.
“Well?” I asked, my dick deflating and my hair a sweaty mess on my head, “Can I help you?”
“I…was told that….” He rose up slightly on his toes to gaze over my shoulders at the naked man on the bed. “I need to inform you that you can’t…he can’t…no one is allowed…”
“Are you trying to convey that there are some laws regarding nudity in your city and that perhaps my friend here should consider covering certain regions of his anatomy before we venture again out into the general public?”
“The…yeah,” he said.
I had to admit that the cop was kind of cute, if he lost about twenty pounds and got a decent haircut. He was probably ten years older than Lance or I, and by the sudden swelling in his pants he was at least vaguely interested by what had greeted him. Additionally, the room probably reeked of sex.
“Actually,” I said, folding my arms across my chest and leaning my body against the door frame while Lance climbed off the bed and came to stand next to me, a towering mass of muscle that may have been growing larger as he stood there, “there are no laws that prohibit public nudity on your books.” The cop opened his mouth to speak, a trickle of sweat on his brow, but I interrupted him. “You’re about to quote your law regarding nude sunbathing and lewd behavior, so I should point out to you that neither one of us—me or this handsome naked man you’re checking out—is sunbathing. And lewd behavior is described specifically as engaging in sexual activities in a public place, public masturbation, urinating in public, or voyeurism. So if we’re being strictly legal here, officer, you’re the one whose actions border on lewd behavior, judging only by the looks you’re giving my boyfriend.”
Lance said, “Yeah,” and folded his arms across his massive chest, too. I think he was enjoying this.
“I’m not sure….”
“Well, I am,” I said. “I was very careful to research the local laws concerning public nudity, and there are none. Nada. Zilch. My friend is allowed to wander around stark naked if he wants to. So am I, for that matter. So are you.”
“I believe that we are currently inside a private space and are allowed to do whatever we want to with each other. The fact that I have…” I looked down, and frowned. “Had…a hard-on and my friend’s rather impressive body is coated with cum is also perfectly legal.”
“Yeah,” Lance said again, and I noted a distinct note of pride in his voice.
“Well…just…be careful, sirs. If I get another complaint I’ll have to….”
“If you get another complaint about my friend’s lack of clothing, I shall sue your city government, and I assure I’ll win, and the amount awarded is likely to be something close to ten times your annual salary.” His mouth was hanging open and his was blinking. “Are we done, here? My friend and I still have some fucking to do before we go out for the evening.” He still had nothing to say and stood there in stunned silence. “Excellent. Thank you for your service and for protecting the public, and I’m sure you have better things to do with your time than hassling a couple of law-abiding visitors to your fair metropolis. Have a good evening, officer!”
He stood there with a hard-on in his pants and his jaw agape.
“Unless you wanted to come inside and join us, of course.” I shifted my gaze down to his groin and added, “I’m sure Lance and I can figure out a few things to do to relieve you of that burden.”
“I…good night,” he said, and he turned abruptly on his heel and I closed the door.
“Now,” I said, reaching down to stroke Lance’s thick cock with one hand and tickling his nipple with the fingernail of my other one, “where were we?”
Rock Bottom was, it must be said, rather sad. Gay bars, by and large, were disappearing as we gays were now allowed to get married and adopt kids and behave in a thoroughly not-gay manner. Lance was technically bi, or maybe more like omnisexual, but I elected to include him in my exclusive and fabulous tribe for this trip.
He insisted on going there first, and he was unusually animated and excited about it. Lance took most things in stride, which I guess was only natural when you’re maybe the world’s most beautiful full-time nudist. I’d grown used to his broad and ready acceptance of people and situations as if everything that had been going on—him gaining pounds of muscle and inches in height and the strength to benchpress a small sedan, me growing a constantly-fountaining baseball bat from my loins—were normal. But he had lots of questions about gay bars that I didn’t have answers for, so we set off from our sex-wrecked room as the sun was setting, but still shining brightly.
Obviously we drew attention as we walked calmly along the sidewalks the few blocks it took to get to the bar nearer the beach. It was already technically Spring Break so there were plenty of nubile young giggling things in barely-there bikinis, but since this was America and not France, the dudes wore board shorts or square-cuts instead of Speedos.
I was wearing loose cargo shorts, flip-flops and a tank top. I elected to go commando and eschew underwear tonight, and I was enjoying the feeling of the wind kissing the length of my prick hanging loosely inside my shorts.
Lance wore nothing. Not even his backpack.
A group of shirtless guys passed by on the opposite side. They looked swole, and one of them held up his thumbs and shouted “Dude! Way to go!”
“This might be easier than I thought,” I said.
“What?” Lance acted as if the shouts were for someone else.
“You being naked.”
He glanced across the street and returned the thugs up. “Everyone seems really friendly,” he observed. “I hope they want to fuck.”
I’m sure my face took on a very dubious look as I watched the uber-straight boys with their aesthetically worked-out bodies wander away. ‘They do,’ I thought, ‘only not with us.’
“Ugh,” I said, entering the very dark environs with my naked boyfriend in tow. “This is pathetic.”
I gestured at the mostly empty barstools and the clientele of, it must be said, men several years past their sell-by date. “I was hoping to have some fun,” I said, “but this place is dead.” I listened to the jazz vocalist piping over the speakers. “Literally.”
Lance shrugged his mighty shoulders and smiled his bright, beautiful smile. “Fun’s what you make it, Dave,” he said, and he strode purposely forward toward the bar.
The lack of conversation inside became apparent as soon as my eyesight adjusted to the darkness. Every man—and it was only men—had turned toward us, or more specifically toward Lance, and looked either shocked, surprised, or giddy.
He was a huge mountain of naked masculine perfection. Maybe they thought they were dreaming or something, but Lance just walked up to the bartender, an admittedly handsome man in his 40s or 50s who had once been a muscular beast but had gone a bit soft, and he said, “Hey!”
“Huh-hey,” he responded mutely.
Lance shoved his hand forward and said, “I’m Lance!”
“I’m naked,” the bartender answered.
“No,” Lance corrected, leaning closer, “I’m the naked one. You’re the bartender.” He bent his arm on the bar and flexed his mind-bending biceps to full bloom. He was fucking flirting with the dude, mercilessly.
Lance licked his lips slowly. “What’s your name?”
“Ted. Sorry. Teddy! I’m Teddy.”
“And this is my friend Dave. Dave, this is Teddy.”
“Naked,” Teddy said, offering his hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” I responded.
“Sorry,” Teddy said, shifting his undivided attention back towards Lance and his biceps, “you’re naked, right?”
“Totally,” Lance acknowledged.
“He’s pretty fucking hot,” I agreed. “Could I get a beer, Teddy?”
“Foamy thing? Served cold? Comes in a mug?”
“Beer! Sure, I…sure.” He pulled a mug from behind the bar and stuck it under the tap, doing it all while never taking his eyes off my naked boyfriend. Then he set it in front of Lance, who scooted it along the bar to me.
I wasn’t sure if I was amused at or jealous of the attention that Lance was receiving. I mean, I was a decent looking guy and I’d be willing to bet that if I’d walked in here alone, I’d be the one garnering all this manly attention. But how was I supposed to compete with my lover’s overwhelming—and naked—perfection? “This your place, Teddy?” I asked.
Teddy nodded and wrinkled his brow. “Sorry but…you’re naked right?”
“Uh huh,” Lance responded, smiling.
“Don’t worry,” Lance reported, “You’ll get used to it. Everybody does.”
Teddy leaned over the bar to get a better look. Lance straighten to give him the full Monty and Teddy gazed down Lance’s body before his eyes rested upon my roommate’s massive and fully-exposed meat. “Holy fuck.”
“Thanks, Teddy,” Lance said simply. “You wanna suck it?”
“Yeah, Teddy. Did you want to suck my cock? Or I could suck yours.”
“I’d take him up on it,” I advised the bartender. “He’s really good at it.”
“Right…right now?” Lance nodded. “Right here?”
“Wherever,” Lance answered. “But we’re both here right now, so….?” He reached down and surrounded his heavy meat in his grip, running his hand along the inches of his shank and rubbing the tip of his dick with the pad of his thumb. “Dave and I were fucking for a while, so my ass is kind of spent, otherwise I’d be happy for you to fuck me.”
Teddy looked at me. “You?”
I shrugged. “There’s more to me than meets the eye,” I reported. “I’m just not as good at advertising.”
“You like to fuck or get fucked, Teddy?”
“Nice. And what are you feeling like at the moment?”
“I…sure…I’d like to suck your dick.”
Lance walked to the end of the bar and lifted the service passthrough, going behind and walking his fine ass towards where Teddy, dumbfounded, stood planted. “It’s pretty big,” Lance admitted, slowly stroking himself, “but if you start out soft I don’t think your jaw’ll hurt so much by the end.”
“When I cum.”
“He cums a lot,” I reported, “so I hope you like swallowing.”
Teddy nodded blankly in the affirmative and dropped to his knees, eye-to-cock with Lance. He lifted Lance’s heavy prick towards his lips and kissed the tip softly, and then he stuck out his tongue and started licking Lance from stem to stern.
“Teddy giving that young man a blow job?” I looked over into the face of an older black man with salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache. He was dressed rather nicely, I thought, in a navy blue blazer and grey slacks.
“Yep,” I acknowledged.
“Teddy’s okay at giving head,” the man said.
He nodded. “Oh yeah. Not as good as me, though. Me, I love sucking dick.” He pointed at his throat. “No gag reflex.”
“Ben,” he said, offering his hand as he gazed over the bar at Teddy’s on-going manipulations.
“Dave,” I offered, “and that’s…”
“Lance,” Lance said, offering his free hand to Ben, since his other was cupped behind Teddy’s head at the moment.
“He do this a lot?” Ben asked, still watching the action behind the bar.
I sipped my beer. “What’s a lot?”
Ben shrugged his small shoulders. He looked like he was in his 60s. “Dunno. More’n once a week?”
I shook my head as I gulped my beer. “No, we’re in town for Spring Break, so this is kind of a vacation.”
“And he wants to spend it getting his dick sucked?”
“Among other things.”
“Smart man,” Ben concluded. “What about you?”
Lance said, “You should suck his dick, Ben. Dave has an amazing dick.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “You a cocksucker or…?”
I nodded. “He’s my boyfrined. That,” I said, nodding at Lance’s ample appendage, “gives me lots of practice.” I pointed at my own throat. “No gag reflex.”
He laughed gently. “Did I hear right? Earlier?”
“You fuck him?” I nodded again, sucking the beer through the foamy head. “Damn, son, that’s impressive.”
“He’s the only guy who fits.”
“What’s that mean?”
I pivoted on the bar stool and tugged up the hem of my shorts, revealing the bulbous head of my monster prick that was already edging closer to my knee. “Gifted,” I said, rubbing the mushroom with my thumb and causing it to weep a drizzle of pre. Teddy was making wet slurping sounds behind the bar and Lance was groaning like a bear. The familiar sound of his pleasure made my libido fire up and my cock started swelling with need.
“Fuck me,” Ben said, sounding impressed. He reached forward and took my dick in his cool, dry hand, caressing me gently. “This cobra get any angrier?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, already feeling my load building. “You’d be amazed.”
He grabbed me more firmly, stroking my fat shaft and making the helmet bulge. “Would I?”
I smiled and nodded.
Ben couldn’t compare to Lance’s eager and worshipful mouth, but the man had probably sucked on hundreds of cocks over the years and true to his word, he could take all of me on. I severely tested his “no gag reflex” claim once I was back at full power and swollen to wrist-thickness again, but it only seemed to heighten his desire to suck every inch of my meat inside him.
I warned him that I always delivered a heavy load and that I was close, but he only nodded and kept his mouth clamped onto my prick as I released my flood and started pumping cream like a fucking cow.
He gagged, but who wouldn’t? No one could expect the load I was able to flood inside someone’s guts, except Lance of course.
I wondered, again, if my load would change him. Why only Lance and no one else? I watched for signs of his body changing, that weird heat that Lance would give off, or that funky smell like sex and sweat, or his clothes getting tighter on his old body.
He was old, but he sure didn’t seem frail. And though I’d never considered being with an older guy before, I had to give him something for his experience and fortitude. Plus the dude managed to swallow quite a bit of my delivery before he had to pull his mouth off my spurting beast and watch bug-eyed as I came and came and came before some other old dude grabbed on and pushed his mouth over my magic prick.
Between Lance and me, we got head from every dude in Rock Bottom that night. I got passed around like a fucking doobie, with every guy in there taking his turn sucking me off as I came non-stop to the amazement and encouragement of the dozen or so clients. Lance was obviously very popular in his own right. At one point he had five guys all servicing him at once; one swallowing his dick whole, one pushing his face between Lance’s muscled butt cheeks and slurping at his hot hole, two more licking and nibbling on his fat nipples hanging off the end of those humungous pectoral globes, and a final dude kissing his mouth with sloppy eagerness. Hands fucking everywhere, caressing all that massive muscular perfection bulging from every inch of his towering frame, all the old priests of manhood worshipping at the most perfect alter ever created. He must have fucked every dude in there on the pool table and letting this one kinda fat dude fuck his ass for some reason, but the guy was enthusiastic and totally into it, and Lance seemed to enjoy it.
By the time we left a couple of hours later I had to admit, Lance was right again.
Fun’s what you make it.
It was nearly nine o’clock by the time we headed out. I was pretty sure I had been drained dry by all the attention, but Lance looks as ready as ever to throw himself on the bed, spread his muscular legs, open up his tight pink pucker and invite me inside. “Who was that guy near the end? The fat guy who fucked you?”
Lance smiled in remembrance. “That was Cam. Cameron.” Then he corrected himself again. “Dr. Cameron McKenzie. Very smart. Very sweet. English professor at the community college. Shakespeare scholar.” He looked over to me. “Why do you ask?”
“He’s the only guy who fucked you.”
“Yes,” Lance confirmed.
“I was just curious.”
“I noticed him watching. He was the only man in the room not waiting in line to be with you or me. Kind of stood out for not standing out, I guess. So I went over to ask him. Cam was shy at first…”
“Or maybe he was intimidated.”
“Huh. Hadn’t thought of that.” Lance wouldn’t have. It was one of the main reasons I loved him. “Anyway, he confessed to me that it had been a long time since he felt like he could fuck someone. ‘Be with someone,’ was how he put it, and I asked, ‘you mean fuck someone?’ and he nodded. It was kind of attractive, actually, how shy he seemed. Cam said he’d been in love for a long time with a man and it ended badly, and he lost his desire for sex. He felt ashamed and abandoned, which seemed so sad to me. He couldn’t get an erection around other guys, he said. Plus then he’d gained a lot of weight and felt unattractive and depressed. I mean, he’s still sexy, obviously. Really beautiful, intense eyes. Full lips. He smelled good, too. ‘My brain gets in the way of my libido,’ is how he put it.”
Lance’s voice was thoughtful and caring as he told me about Cam. I wondered if I would’ve noticed him in the back of the bar, and realized I probably would’ve just ignored him.
“He was obviously very smart, and very funny. But his self esteem was at an all-time low. Only jerks off to porn, lately, he admitted. I thought that he just needed some confidence, to know someone found him attractive and wanted to be with him. I thought he needed a challenge, too, not a shoulder to cry on.”
“Oh.” We walked on a little ways and I had to ask, “And you found a challenge that allowed him to solve his problem, obviously.”
“May I ask how you did that?”
He quickly rounded on me, blocking my path, a naked wall of pure sex and muscle, moving with preternatural reflexes, and took my shoulders in his hands roughly. Using very little strength he pushed me down an alleyway.
Lance moved me against a darkened storefront and placed his warm hand onto my crotch.
“I put my hand on his dick, like this, and pressed myself against his body, like this.” He squeezed me gently. “And leaned in close to his face, like this, with my lips next to his ear and my breath on his neck, like this.” I could smell his raw scent strongly, like a dog in heat. “And I told him, quite softly, so only he could hear, ‘If you get hard right now, with me, you can fuck me as deeply, and as roughly, and as hard, and as long as you want to.’”
I couldn’t move. Lance’s muscular body had me pinned against the wall. He shoved his hand inside my shorts and grabbed my meat, I felt his rough palm keenly against the tightening skin of my inflating prick. He was pulling and tugging on me to position my dick so the mouth pointed upward, to allow my monstrous cock to grow to its full extents, all the while keeping his lips to my ear, his bearded cheek against my tender, smoothly shaven one, whispering filthy promises.
“‘You have never in your entire life fucked an ass as tight, as muscular, as hot, as deep as mine. You’ve never felt anything surround your cock with the power and need of my ass. You can ride me all night long, and I’ll never get tired, I’ll never stop.
But only if you get hard.
I was hard as steel. My dick was poking half its length above my waistband leaking pre as Lance began to kiss my mouth and stroke the exposed inches of my meat. The alley was dark and smelled rank, but the feeling of the huge hard muscles pressing me helplessly against the wall, the passionate kisses pressing against my lips, and Lance’s rough grip sliding up and down my cock, milking thick warm honey from my balls, had me ready to blow a fat load.
“Gonna…gonna cum,” I gasped between kisses. “Gotta cum fucking now. Gonna…fucking…explode.”
Lance shoved one hand against my chest and pinned me against the wall. Whether he knew I was enjoying his manhandling or he was enjoying it or both I couldn’t know and didn’t care. His head shot down and he plunged his mouth over the whole head of my prick and I blasted fat fountains of cum down his throat.
“My balls…” I gasped.
He undid my shorts with his other hand, ripping them, and they fell around my ankles. He was sucking and moaning with audible pleasure as he cupped my aching balls with his free hand, groping and caressing my egg-sized nuts, milking my cream up the heavy meat of my monster prick.
I started cumming even harder, the sensation of my stream of hot cream traveling up my cock growing intense and fervent. I was grabbing his shoulders to hang onto something as a huge orgasmic wave overtook me, an inundating flood of pure sex that nearly made me black out.
He was growing. I could feel it. His delts were inflating under my grip, spreading my fingers apart.
With one hand coaxing the cum from my balls and the other slowly stroking my slick, hard shaft, Lance pulled on the mouth of my spurting fountain, swallowing everything I had to give him.
I felt so good, it hurt. I wanted to stop cumming as much as I wanted to keep cumming. I could only feel Lance’s growing muscles, it was too dark in the alley to see them swelling. I felt his fingers on my balls loosen and his middle finger was rubbing my taint and moving closer to my hole.
I lifted one leg slightly to allow him access. I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted him sucking me and caressing my balls and fucking my ass with his thick, manly fingers all at the same time.
His hand was so huge! His other bear paw kept me pinned to the wall and he worked his way to my butt hole with that probing digit and pushed into me, a welcome intrusion I pushed back against out of reflex, and I felt him laugh on my gushing prick, as if to tell me I had no say in the matter.
It felt like the last time, in the gym, him on the bench, me inside him, watching him grow. “Gotta fuck you,” I huffed, breathless with desire, “gotta fuck you right now.”
He pulled his mouth off my spouting cock and released me from his grip against the wall. I nearly collapsed to my knees but my desire to fuck his perfect ass overwhelmed any other drive my body or my brain had at that moment.
My cock was like an unmoored crane shooting cum like a fountain. Lance threw himself to all-fours and wanted me to do him like a dog, like two dogs in heat, fucking in an alley.
I moved between his legs and shoved them apart with my knees. I felt in the darkness for his tight hot hole. He was warm and wet, maybe with sweat, maybe with Cameron’s cum. He wanted me inside so he opened himself and I found his gaping invitation, fitting three fingers in him, finding him so wet and lifted those fingers to my nostrils and sucked in a deep, glorious breath of his manly stink. I guided the pumping mouth of my mammoth prick to his hole and pushed hard to get inside his perfect paradise.
I leaned over him, pumping my hips and shooting thick streams of cum. I reached my hands across his wide back and could feel the bulging masses moving beneath his skin. He arched his back and howled like a dog or a wolf, and I slapped his ass resoundingly and started fucking his ass hard and deep.
It felt like an instinct I could not withstand, like an urge that could not be denied. I connected to him like before, plug to socket, feeding him power. And more power. And more.
And he took it all.
“We need a bigger bed.”
I wanted to make a grand entrance into the motel office, swinging open the door with aplomb wearing only my boxers, being all righteous and gay marriage and shit, but the door was already open and the dude behind that glass partition saw me coming across the parking lot before I could get all dramatic.
“You have the standard queen,” he said.
“Yeah….well, you’ve seen my boyfriend. Does he look like the standard queen to you?”
I saw the corner of his mouth curl up and the corners of his eyes wrinkle. “No,” he answered.
I was all in a state and wanted to make a scene, but he wasn’t making it easy. I had planned on walking over here stark naked to prove a point, but I still couldn’t bring myself to mimic Lance’s unfettered nudity. Turns out that wearing something to cover up my junk was a hard habit to break. Even if I had some of the most impressive junk east of the Mississippi. Oh, fuck that, let’s throw in west of the Mississippi as well.
“I can put you in a double room,” he offered, as the other side of his mouth joined the smile.
“Don’t tell me, it has….”
“Two standard queens. And, no, your boyfriend did not appear to be standard by any measure.” I didn’t noticed his accent before. Slightly Southern, but he was either trying to hide it or trying to rid himself of it. “Ain’t…haven’t seen you fellas out and about today.”
“We had a kind of a…long night. Lance is worn out.” It wasn’t unusual for him to need some heavy hours of deep sleep after I’d pumped him full of muscle. And he was pretty extremely pumped this morning.
“I wouldn’t think there was much that could wear that boy out. Congratulations?”
Was he flirting with me? My gaydar is terrible and he hadn’t come off as particularly gay, whatever that means. But he was situated behind that glass and the last time we met he was kind of dumbstruck. But now I could swear he was checking out my bod and my package. “Why’d you call the cops on us?” I asked, still determined to be angry about something.
“Didn’t,” he answered. “Manager did. I mean, I had to tell him that there’s a naked dude in Number 12. This ain’t much of a job, but it’s steady and it’s quiet.”
“Oh. Heh. Sorry, I thought you….”
“I don’t give a damn if you’re naked or you’re painted blue or you have three legs.” He glanced down at my third leg for a second. “I mean….”
“I think I know what you mean.”
We looked at each other for a few heartbeats, and I realized my dick was starting to show its own signs of interest in our man here. He was whip thin, wearing an Oxford shirt too big for his frame and black glasses on his narrow face. He had a prominent nose, and I don’t think he had dragged a comb through his hair in, like, ever. Strawberry blond and sticking out every which way. His eyes behind those glasses were blue and…that was all I could see of him. But damn if my cock wasn’t starting to pulse and tingle.
“I…guess we’ll take the standard double.”
He nodded once and climbed off his stool to fetch another room key. Then he went to the back of the small room he was in and disappeared for a second. I heard someone coming in behind me, half-expecting it to be Lance (making my cock surge with expectation) when I heard him say, “I gotta make sure it’s made-up okay. Towels and stuff.”
I turned around and his polite smile faded into shock because my dick was starting its amazing journey from noticeably large to insanely humongous, tenting the front of my boxers and trying to poke its way through the fly.
I covered myself out of habit and he swallowed dryly. “I uh….”
I blushed. I blushed! I hadn’t blushed in fucking ever! But I cleared my throat and decided the best course of action was to pretend my cock wasn’t just now deciding that it needed to surge into action and show itself off for a stranger.
“This way,” he said, turning and heading across the lot.
I walked behind him, and his comment about a third leg was becoming too comically real. It didn’t help matters that his butt was distractingly well-packed into his jeans.
“What do you do in there all day?” I asked, hoping the conversation would distract me and my prick.
“Huh?” he said, turning his head slightly. He had very full lips. They looked very soft. My cock grew another inch.
“You said you liked a quiet job, so….”
He nodded. Oh, hell, don’t make him cute and smart at the same time! My boxers were running out of room and I looked ridiculous, now, with this giant thing sticking straight out of my groin and my shorts hugging my ass like a second skin. My fucking dick was so big it was pulling the waistband away from my body, and it wasn’t even done growing, yet.
We got to the door of Room 2, and he pushed the key into the lock with some difficulty. “It gets sticky,” he said.
I knew the feeling.
He managed the lock and pushed the door open and walked inside. I heard him say, “Well, fuck,” quietly, which I assume meant that the room wasn’t ready and that he hadn’t meant me to hear him. “Look, sorry, I’ll make sure….”
He had stopped talking and I think I knew why. My dick just didn’t want to be cooped up any longer and the dripping head had worked its way through the fly on my boxers. Now several inches of my hot, hard meat was thrust fully into view and I was growing bigger, longer, and thicker with every beat of my heart. My dick was slowly rising, throbbing with visible bounces, and the mouth was drooling a thick string of honey.
I sort of smirked or frowned or something and shrugged. “Mind of its own,” I said helplessly.
“Jesus,” he said, looking at the monster I owned.
I don’t think I had mentioned that I had grown even bigger last night when Lance and I had that filthy fuck session in the alleyway, did I?
Well, I did.
“Uh…” I said.
He simply could not take his eyes off of it as it continued to develop towards its ultimate size. His mouth—with those soft pillowy lips—was slightly open and he seemed mesmerized or in shock or something. I mean, yeah, I owned what was probably the largest prick in the country, but the least he could do was help me distract him from it as it swelled, and the veins wrapped it in a network of hot blood, and the head bloomed like a flower, weeping a stream of warm honey that began to coat its long, long, long neck with sex-scented lube.
“Uh…” I said again. I think my thing was so huge now that it drained the blood from my brain and made it hard to think about anything but the constant, hard, heavy, demanding pulses of pure masculine sex throbbing through every inch of its massive, hungry meat.
“Can I…?” His eyes flickered to meet my gaze as I stood in the doorway with a 14-inch high, wrist-thick monster cock visibly pounding in time to my heartbeat. I could literally bend my head down, grab its shaft, stick out my tongue and lick its tip.
I was more or less at his mercy. I just nodded and he motioned me inside the room and closed the door behind me.
There was no practical or logical thing he was going to be able to do with me. I could probably kill him if I tried shoving myself all the way inside him, like I could with Lance, and his jaw would need to dislodge to fit his mouth all the way around me.
But I had not counted on the perseverance of a dude in love with a huge cock.
His mesmerization gave way to worship. Maybe I wasn’t even in the room anymore, just him and my cock, and he started to stroke and kiss and lick my inches with care and reverence. My brain was kind of…not there anymore. Just him and my prick, and what he was doing was driving me crazy.
Lance was…kind of a wild man. Our sex was physical and rough, he was a huge dude and liked using his muscles—and I liked him using his muscles—even though I was typically on top and shoving myself inside him. He liked being in charge, and mostly I liked letting him think he was in charge, and there was something exciting about being thrown around like that.
This dude, Sam, was gentle and careful, as if he was encountering a wild animal he was afraid to spook. He was making these…low cooing sounds, like I would make sometimes when I eat something especially delicious. He was stroking me, rubbing me against his cheek, licking my entire length, sucking the pre from my slit, gazing at me as he breathed with almost ragged breaths, placing his tongue against my hot, hard, veiny surface and just…holding it there, eyes closed, making low moaning sounds.
The man obviously liked cock is what I’m saying.
He said, “Oh my god,” a lot too, though he didn’t strike me as particularly religious.
Meanwhile, my balls were inflating with cream and starting to feel like bowling balls attached to the base of my prick. I was balling my hands into fists so tightly I think my fingernails were digging divots into my palms. My toes curled and my jaw was clenched because this dude had no idea what he was in for when I finally came, and I was gonna start painting the walls any second.
“Gonna cum,” I managed to growl.
“Uh huh,” he agreed, driving me closer and closer to that goal with his lips and his tongue and his hands.
“Gonna…gonna cum,” I repeated, warningly.
“Yeah.” Lick. Kiss. Suck. Stroke. Liiiiiiick. Stroke stroke stroke. Suck. Kiss.
“Gotta fucking cum,” I announced, as if he knew what those three words meant in my vocabulary.
See, ‘gonna cum’ was for when I was just, like, normally horny. Like, I’m gonna cum like you probably are gonna cum, right? Spurt, pause, spurt, pause, spurt spurt spurt. Done. I mean, let’s be honest, your spurt versus my spurt is kind of like comparing an eyedropper to Niagara Falls. I get a fucking load in my nuts that I have to push up over a foot of prick and eject with the force of a hydrant or I’m stuck with blue balls, get where I’m cumming from?
When I say ‘gotta fucking cum,’ though, I. Have. Got. To. Fucking. Cum.
You probably ought to stand back and enjoy the show, because my cannon is about to perform the 1812 Overture with full fireworks and maybe even a horse or two on stage.
I’m just gonna say this about what happened next; it was probably a good thing that room hadn’t been made up yet, because after I was done they needed to burn those sheets and that carpet and the wallpaper because those are the kind of cum stains that show up on black light. I Pollocked that place, and Sam, too.
Luckily, Sam fucking loved getting plastered with cum. Fucking loved it!
I started with a nice, long, fat, sticky rope that blasted out of my cock and hit the ceiling, spreading like an upside-down puddle that gathered into a pool of cream that started raining back down on us.
My second blast made the first one look like a practice shot, as I gasped in air and tensed my ass and shot a stream so thick and ample that I wondered if I was gonna just empty my balls in one go.
But I wasn’t.
I wasn’t even close, yet.
Sam sat back on his haunches with his hands grasping my dick as I exploded thick fountains of cream and he opened his mouth and close his eyes and took a hot shower in my copious load.
I came and came. I think if Lance had been there, I would’ve shoved his growth into overdrive again, just hours after I had already managed to do that.
Oh, yeah! Did I forget to mention the reason why we needed a bigger bed?
Because we now had a much bigger Lance.
But I’ll come back to him.
For now I was relating that time I came so much in a hotel room that “painted with cum” would not be an overstatement.
Sam was whispering “Oh my god” a lot as my cock kept on pumping fat deliveries of cum that sprayed the room and coated his hands and dripped off my balls like warm honey. I was probably lost in my orgasmic bliss as it was happening, so there wasn’t much I could do to stop it. I think Sam probably tried to put his mouth on my fountain to swallow the wealth of cum I was shoving free, but there was so much of it (and he didn’t have Lance’s superhuman hunger) that he gave up going to the source and merely sucked the excess of his fingers and hands.
And there was a lot of excess.
When I managed to stop cumming—in other words, when I finally ran out of cum—the room was not going to be usable by anyone that day, and possibly that week. Sam looked like someone had dipped him in yogurt and my cock and balls felt like someone had squeezed them in a vice, or inside Lance’s ass.
I was breathing hard and coated in sweat. It had lasted probably a couple of minutes, but it felt like I had been ejaculating for an hour.
“Oh my god,” said Sam.
I was still breathing hard, and my dick was finally subsiding, but I managed to say, “Sorry,” even as I was laughing at the whole fucking mess.
I had lately been with Lance so much that I forgot what I can do given free reign and nowhere to put my load. How was my body producing this much cum!
Sam stood up, dripping with cum, his overlarge shirt now clinging to his lanky frame. “That was….”
“Amazing! Oh my god, that was insane! Epic! Awesome!”
I raised a dubious eyebrow and asked, “Really?”
“I’ve never…nobody ever….” He reached down and grabbed my dick and stroked me.
Already, a renewed throb of sex rang through me and I touched his hand and said, “Careful. That thing has a hair trigger.”
“Oh my god,” he said, opening his hand to let my weight simply lay there in his palm. He rubbed his thumb over the top of my shank and I swelled. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah, um, so…can I help you clean up? Or something?”
“I think I came,” he reported.
“You think you came?”
“I mean…without any…without anything touching me, I came. Oh my god.”
“Oh. Sorry? I guess?”
“Oh my god.” He was now actively rubbing my dick with his thumb as he held my fat shaft in his warm, sticky palm. It felt very good, and my balls were tingling and my cock was starting to lengthen again.
“I mean, that’s great? And all? But I think maybe we better cool it before I fill this place up with cum and the walls blow out.”
“Oh my god.”
“You say that a lot.”
“Huh?” He finally looked up from my meat and met my gaze. His glasses hung with thick dollops of cum and I took them off so I could see his eyes. My dick pulsed again because they were so blue and bright. I could see the dark circles his large nipples pressing against his wet shirt, and he had a swimmer’s build under there, sleek and smooth.
“Should we clean this up?”
“The cleaning staff’ll do it.”
“They’ve seen worse,” he reported, but before I could start imagining what that might mean, he suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.
I was right. They were very soft and very pillowy.
We both took a shower in Room 2 and threw our clothes in a dumpster, walking as naked as Lance back to Room 12, where I presumed my recently-grown boyfriend was still sleeping off the latest round of muscular development as was his custom. I suppose it took a lot out of a body to grow muscle and bone and cock to that extent in the space of a few minutes, because he often would more or less pass out after growing.
And last night he’d grown maybe bigger and faster than ever.
I opened the unlocked door and looked in on Lance, whose body still laid sprawled face-down on the sole bed. His arms and legs extended beyond the edges of the standard queen, and there was no room for much else now. His back was a topographical map of muscular mountains over-layed with that dark luscious mane of soft curls, with a Christmas tree lower back made of two hard columns leading down to the most amazing round, thickly muscled butt humps the world had ever seen. Lance truly put the maximus in his gluteus.
His legs were equally staggering in size and development, and his feet were huge. Size 16? I couldn’t even guess. His head rested on one bent arm, which made the biceps and triceps stick out sharply, and his other was hanging off the edge of the bed.
He was snoring. Like a bear.
“Oh my god,” Sam said softly.
“Don’t worry,” I said in a normal tone, “you won’t wake him up.”
“I knew he was big but…oh. My. God.”
“Yeah, um, so, is there maybe another double standard we could have? As you can see one bed isn’t quite…enough.”
“How big is he?”
“Not entirely sure, to be honest. Must be over seven feet tall? I’d guess? And, um, five feet wide? Ish?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t measured him in weeks, and last night’s growth was a staggering surprise. “Um, did you want to borrow some clothes? Sorry again about….”
“Don’t even mention it. It was my pleasure. Absolutely. But, yeah, I gotta get back to the front desk, in case…oh my god, that dude is huge!” His southern accent became more pronounced when he was excited.
“Well, yes, exactly, so if you could find us something a little…bigger?”
“Yeah, lemme get the key to Room 4.” He looked down at his naked body. “And, um, I guess I could use some pants and a shirt, if that’s okay.”
“Here,” I said, handing him my bag, “take whatever you want. I think I might be joining my friend’s simple wardrobe choice from now on.”
Sam looked at me, passing a discerning eye up and down my gym-trained body and the fat shank of impressive meat jutting forward over two egg-sized nuts in a tight scrotal sack and said, “I doubt anyone would object.”
“Don’t start, dude. You saw what happens when someone gets my motors running.”
“You just came a few pints of heavy cream, Mr. Jenkins, I kind of doubt you’ve got any more in you.”
“It’s just Dave, Sam. And you might be surprised what I can do when put to the test.”
He looked with reverent adoration at my cock, now at rest and at its less-than-Olympian dimensions and blew a breath out between those soft, kissable lips. “I ain’t never seen a cock as beautiful as yours, Dave.”
“Seen a lot of cocks, have you?”
“More’n my fair share, probably. Straight boys don’t give a damn whose sucking their stick when the sucker knows what he’s doing.”
And that certainly described Sam. “When we get re-situated and sleeping beauty awakens, feel free to drop by. I’m sure Lance would be more than happy to give you a new challenge.”
He looked at the recumbent figure of my boyfriend, and particularly at his mammoth and gorgeous butt, and asked, “Does he…like rim jobs?”
“I don’t think ‘like’ is an adequate word to describe how Lance feels about someone tonguing his hole. And take it from someone well-acquainted with the practice, the rewards are also more than adequate.”
Sam moaned appreciably and handed me the key to the other room. “If you need anything—and I mean fucking anything at all—please allow me to service your every need.”
“On behalf of both of us, let me say that I look forward to seeing how well you can accomplish the goals we set. Based solely on your first test,” I said, running my hand down the fat, warm shank of my prick, “I think we may have repeated need for your services.”
He smiled and winked. “My very great pleasure, Mr. Jenkins.” Sam paused looking at the handsome naked man sleeping silently on the bed. His thickly muscled back rose and fell as he breathed. He had one long leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee, so that one could view his muscular rump both bunched up like a solid ball and stretched forth with a deep divot along the side that created a rising mountain of brawn. “Do you think he’d mind if I…?” Then he looked at me. “Would you mind if I…?”
“You want to know what it feels like lying atop my boyfriend?”
“You want to know what it feels like lying atop my boyfriend?”
“I mean…I don’t want to…do anything.”
I had some doubts about that. Not that I didn’t believe him, but having been on top of my boyfriend’s muscular and perfect body, I knew how difficult it was going to be for him not to just start spontaneously pumping ropes of cum from his balls just feeling the sensation of his warm skin. So I smiled, and said, “I don’t think Lance would mind even if you did, but knock yourself out. I just don’t know exactly what he’ll do if you wake him up. He tends to be very…amorous after a nap.”
Sam smiled and almost giggled at the thought. “I’ll be careful,” he said.
The bed was already sagging under the increased weight of my boyfriend’s recently muscle-swollen body, but it still creaked with complaint when Sam set his knee on it and carefully, slowly, and cautiously climbed on top.
Lance moaned and moved slightly, adjusting his leg and turning his face in the other direction, and Sam acted like he was trying to approach a lion in the African scrub, freezing in place. “He’s not that sensitive,” I said.
Sam whispered, “He’s so warm. I can feel heat rising off him and I’m not even touching him.”
I nodded. “It gets better. Feel his skin.” Sam hovered his hand over Lance’s butt. “Don’t be shy. He’s certainly not.”
He lowered his palm against Lance’s ass and moved his palm across the firm hump of butt muscle. “Oh my god,” he said, predictably. Then he set his second hand on the other buttock and started to slowly and carefully caress my boyfriend’s ass. “Oh my god,” he repeated, “he feels like…it’s so smooth and warm and…” Sam’s dick started to move, swelling as he experienced the intense sensual pleasure of Lance’s paper-thin skin covering all his muscle. He reached forward and moved his hands all over Lance’s back (leaning his dick against the tight crevasse of Lance’s ass in the process), then he pulled them back towards that amazing ass again and started to caress his butt mounds with obvious worship.
Lance moaned, in a manner that I was very accustomed to. I assume that his own dick was responding in kind to Sam’s gentle, careful caressing of his ass.
“Pull his cheeks apart,” I advised. “Pull him open and play with his hole.”
“Trust me,” I said.
Sam took a slow, deep breath and placed his hands on the edge of Lance’s deep valley, and pressed both thumbs down the crevasse. “Oh my god,” Sam said again.
“Yep,” I agreed.
Lance groaned, a deep and satisfied sound from his massive chest, and he repositioned his legs to allow whatever sensation he was experiencing in his dreams to accelerate toward its goal. “Should I…?”
“Rub him, right there.”
Sam closed his eyes and raised his chin, looking like he was experiencing something like nirvana as his thumbs reached down and touched the hot, wet softness of Lance’s amiable asshole.
I watched the tendons of his forearms move as he carefully, slowly, rubbed Lance’s warm, tender, talented fuck hole with the pads of his thumbs.
“That’s a hell of a way to say ‘good morning.’” I looked up and Lance’s eyes were open but he wasn’t looking at me. Obviously he thought I was the one knocking at his backdoor.
Sam looked like he’d just seen a ghost at the sound of Lance’s deep, sonorous voice, but I laid my hand on his shoulder and whispered very quietly, “Keep going.”
Sam’s face looked pained and scared, but I nodded encouragement. This was getting me hot, too, watching someone so small and fragile leaning against Lance’s massive frame and tickling his butt. Sam swallowed drily and continued doing what he was doing.
“Mmm,” Lance moaned. “Deeper.”
Sam looked askance but I mouthed, ‘you heard him’ and gestured for him to continue.
Sam was evidently performing to my boyfriend’s satisfaction. I watched his shoulders bunch up into an incredible display of power and he buried his face in the pillow and groaned again.
He stretched his bent leg straight and spread himself open for “my” ass play, making the kind of pleasurable sounds that always drilled directly into my libido. My cock started to throb and stretch and my balls were tingling.
Sam was looking downward, between Lance’s cheeks, and he licked his lips. I knew what was coming next, though I hardly believed it was happening.
Sam gripped Lance’s muscular cheeks and pulled them apart, and then he dipped his narrow face between my boyfriend’s thick buttocks and I could hear him lapping at Lance’s hole.
Lance’s entire body literally shuddered. He hugged the pillow hard and the muscles along his arms swelled with deep cuts and massive cables. He made a kind of whimper, or whine, his normally deep vocal tones reaching high into a new register.
I thought, wow, I’ve never made him make that sound before.
I was stroking myself as I watched what was obviously an expert rimmer going to town on my boyfriend’s ass. The sounds of Sam’s juicy and eager buffet paired with Lance’s little coos and whimpers of what I could only judge as overwhelming joy made my cock swell upwards at record speed.
Lance reached back and placed his bear paw on Sam’s head and pulled him in closer, looking like he wanted the lanky young office clerk to climb inside him to increase the pleasure he was already feeling. His little squirms of bliss along with the tiny squeaks and lingering moans escaping his throat were making me both jealous (not that Sam was doing that to my boyfriend, but that Sam wasn’t doing that to me) and incredibly horny.
Sam’s moved one of his hands over Lance’s rump and pushed beneath him, obviously wanting to get a grip on Lance’s cock and heighten his pleasure. Lance, who’s not an idiot, raised his hips off the mattress and allowed Sam’s hand to slip under his pelvis. That also caused Lance’s butt to rise up and shove itself more fully at the target of its current pleasure, and my powerful boyfriend opened his ass up fully to Sam’s attention.
I knew when Sam had his hand on Lance’s mammoth prick because they both groaned with audible pleasure at the same time.
I was now in possession of one of my gold medal hard-ons, and I was pumping a steady stream of pre that slicked my grip with warm honey. Hard eruptions of sexual bliss were finding their way into the core of my body and I was heating up with need. Someone’s ass was going to be on the receiving end of a mind-blowing cum explosion.
“Awwww, fuck,” Lance groaned.
Sam came up for air, his lips and chin coated in spit and ass juice, and he was smiling very large.
“Oh my god,” he said.
And then Lance pressed up on an elbow and turned around. He looked at Sam, and then he looked at me, and then he looked at Sam and he said, “Hi.”
“Hello,” Sam responded.
His eyebrows arched and he smiled at him. “Well?”
“Don’t you have a job to finish?” He wiggled his muscular ass at him, then raised it up and backed it into Sam’s face.
“Oh my god.”
Lance shifted his sea-green gaze to me. “And then you’re gonna fuck me, right?”
I was stroking my thick cock and lost in a fog of lust and could only nod.
“Good, because my ass is going to be in definite need of a good, hard, deep fucking. Right Sam?”
“Oh. My. God.”
Lance provided his ass in the most convenient pose possible for Sam to get in there with everything he had. The muscular method with which Sam was kneading Lance’s ass flesh, the sounds of hunger and desire and pleasure he was making, and the way he could eat out Sam’s ass while simultaneously stroking his hard-on with such seeming ease suggested that Sam’s expertise in this area knew no bounds. How long was that dude’s tongue, anyway? It appeared that he could lick Lance’s ball sack, taint, and hole at the same time!
Lance, on his knees with his majestic ass jutting backwards, his wet slick hole dripping with spit, was twisting the rubbery nubs of his tits and I could tell that he was in some realm of delight that we only reached occasionally, and maybe it was good to have Sam around for the week.
Not that I ever tired of fucking or being fucked by my huge, handsome boyfriend, but different people had different talents, and fuck knows I wasn’t going to let Lance have all of Sam’s undivided attention. And maybe he could teach me a few tricks, though it appeared that the major source of his talents was simply his love of ass.
And Lance had a lot of ass.
It was during this process of the smaller man eating out the larger man that something unexpected happened—Sam set his own legs apart and opened his butt towards me, sending a clear signal that the man wanted me to somehow fit my mammoth meat inside his narrow frame.
I couldn’t even imagine that such a thing was possible. My cock at full power, like it was now, is an almost frightening tool. Thick, long, hard, and covered with veins, it looks like an extra arm attached between my legs, mounted over a pair of balls as big as plums. Did he really intend for me to shove this monster inside him and start fucking his entire body as he attempted to dig his tongue inside my boyfriend’s ass?
He knew exactly how big I was. He’d manhandled my meat with his expert touch and saw me plaster a room with my load. Hell, the dude had practically taken a shower in cum as I exploded all over him. He knew what I could do, and did he actually want me to do it?
He shook his little butt at me, which I took as an undisguised invitation, and who was I to deny him his wish?
I was leaking copiously so I spread the warm honey of my drooling pre-cum all over my hot meaty prick until it glistened like glass. The head was a fat mushroom and the shaft was throbbing hard as I touched the tip towards his hole and wondered how in fuck I was gonna manage this without ripping him in two.
Then I started to push myself inside.
To say that it was a tight fit at first is like saying I was trying to ram a Space Shuttle rocket inside a keyhole. I can’t imagine how that dude wasn’t positively screaming as I moved myself inside, but if you’re the proud owner of a big one, you know that after the initial entry—getting past that first tightness and the other dude’s automatic reaction to something big trying to get inside him—the rest is just cream.
And cream is exactly what I started doing once I began sliding my hard meat inside his warm, tight chute. My balls were positively on fire and I could feel my explosion erupt along every inch of my cock as I started coming almost immediately, pumping my supply of hot cream like fucking Old Faithful.
Once I started, I couldn’t stop. There’d be enough to go around, of course, so I didn’t even bother to think about Lance’s hole and how much bigger I might be able to grow him. By this point if I didn’t start emptying my balls I was afraid they were going to burst like over-inflated balloons.
Sam wasn’t prepared for me. I mean, let’s face it, who could’ve been? Even if I had told him what his butt was in for with me plugged in, he would’ve thought it a worthless boast instead of a warning. “I cum a fucking river,” i might have said, but then he’d only smile or shrug or say something equally boastful like “I can fucking take any load you can give me.”
Only, obviously, unlike my giant muscular pal, he couldn’t.
Once I was uncapped, I was squirting a hot flood and shoving it out of his ass with every thrust of my hips. It splattered out of his ass against me and was running down my legs, and I kept on cumming.
I wish I had a video of that scene. I mean, can you imagine what we looked like? Three naked dudes in this seedy little motel room decorated like some bad American Apparel ad. One giant bodybuilder-looking dude on his knees on the bed with his joint in his grip being eaten out by a second naked dude with a wiry frame and his head shoved between the first giant dude’s butt cheeks, while a third naked dude build like some Olympic gymnast and outfitted with a cock fit for a stallion was slowly pumping his meat inside the second little dude’s ass and seemingly exploding a load of cream more suitable for a cow’s fucking udder than pumping out of his cock.
And all of us dudes gasping and groaning and cooing and moaning as we all received exactly what we wanted.
My doubts about Sam’s ability to take me were soon erased, and my head still sort of reels around the memory—both of the appearance and the sensation—of my huge meat sliding in and out of his tight little butt. It seemed like a magic trick at the time, watching my huge prick disappearing inside him inch by inch as his ass swallowed it all up, and then I’d start to pull myself out and watch all that slick, glistening, pink, veiny meat reappear before I shifted my hips and plunged back inside of his tight, hot butt, pumping ropes of warm cream the entire time.
It felt like my cock and his ass were made to fit. Was it some magical trick, my overestimation of my cock, or my underestimation of his ass? Whatever it was, it felt amazing and I could not stop coming for anything.
Then, suddenly, Lance was back. The Lance I knew so well, the muscular beast who could ask anything of me and my dick and I’d do it without hesitation or thought. It felt like the room suddenly got smaller, or he got bigger, because even though I was fucking the tightest and most talented little butt I had ever met, he needed me now and he let us both know it. “Gotta get fucked,” he groaned, his deep voice both needful and demanding. “Gotta get fucking fucked right fucking now.”
Had any ass in the history of asses been as well-prepared as his ass was for me? Sam had spent minutes prepping his hole for some major meat, and I was pushing out thick streams of cum from my swollen balls up my rock-hard massive prick—and just the sound of his voice, and those words, felt like my balls caught fire all over again and I needed to give him every drop I could.
I slowly pulled out of Sam’s butt and my dick was an explosive fountain. I wasn’t even pumping spurts of cum anymore, I was just constantly cumming like by cock was attached to a faucet and spraying cream like a hose. Fuck, it felt amazing and overwhelming and I had to get inside my beautiful massive muscular boyfriend right fucking now!
I practically shoved Sam off the bed to get my cock inside Lance and once we were connected, some sort of nuclear explosion of sex happened and I was nearly overcome with the sheer unfiltered bliss that was emanating from my dick and throbbing into my whole body, making me gasp and groan with savage ecstasy.
Sam was probably still in the room but he no longer mattered. It was just me, and my cock, and Lance, and his ass, as I was dialed up into the red and flooding him with cum.
Lance planted his hands on the mattress and pushed his butt up against my pelvis and started to slowly rock, fucking my cock as I fucked his ass. Stars and sparks appeared in my vision and my balls throbbed and tingled and my body felt energized and massively horny.
I felt him growing again. I could feel the sensation of his intense sexual heat and massive muscular power increasing like a fist around my cock, tightening its grip and sucking the cream from my balls.
“Fuck yeah,” Lance groaned, moaning with perfect divine rapture as his muscles swelled and his cock lengthened and his whole body grew more perfect and beautiful.
Sam said, “No.”
“No?” I asked.
“No,” he repeated. “You do not want to go to Freddy’s Toad.”
“But it’s supposed to be a lot of fun.”
“Whatever the opposite of ‘a lot of fun’ is,” he said, “Freddy’s Toad is that.”
“Cyclotron?” I asked, referring to the leather bar I had also planned on visiting.
“Sure,” he said, “if you want to get beaten up by a bunch of long-haired tattooed homophobes stuck somewhere in the 50’s who think a glance is a come-on.”
Glancing over, I looked at Lance’s magnificent body, packed with muscle and seven feet high, and I had a hard time imagining that dude getting beaten up by anyone, let alone a group of refugees from the 60’s with a leather fetish. My beautiful boyfriend’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Why are you two talking when we could be fucking?”
Lance could always focus us on what was really important.
Sam, when he wasn’t sitting behind his lonely motel counter reading or writing or, one supposes, fantasizing about being back in our room with us having naked sports time with me and my huge, handsome boyfriend, was having naked sports time with me and my huge, handsome boyfriend.
He fit in well—after I took the time to explain that, yes, sometimes Lance grows bigger and more muscular and more beautiful and, yes, when that happens sometimes when I pull my dick out of my boyfriend’s perfectly fuckable ass I discover that it’s grown bigger, too, and yes, it’s not your imagination I can cum something like gallons of cream from my fat balls and then turn around and do it again. He asked the same question that I always asked, and Lance gave him the same explanation he always gave me: “I’m not doing anything, you are.”
Sam tried to explain my effect on him when I tried explaining my effect on Lance. “I can feel you coming,” he said.
“Well of course you can feel me cumming! I’m usually cumming in your ass.”
He clicked his tongue and said, “No...I mean...when you’re near me I can feel you. Like...like you’re made of sex or something. You know that feeling you get when you see someone who really cranks your ‘nads? Some amazing-looking dude and your cock tingles and your balls buzz and you feel this, like, heat come over you all at once.” I nodded, because of course I did. “You have that effect, but I don’t even need to see you. It’s like you’re broadcasting sex on some powerful, silent wavelength and I knew when you’re around because...I can feel you.” He looked down at my giant length of thick cock and licked his lips. “And fuck you feel good.”
So far, these…unusual but incredibly agreeable effects did not seem to involve Sam’s body in any observable fashion, unless the fact that his ass seemed able to accommodate my length and girth with equal facility to my boyfriend’s, but he attributed that to, as he put it, “lots of practice.”
My head would then fill with images of him practicing with a dildo the size of Montana (mine was currently only Massachusetts-sized or something slightly more practical, if one considered the size of Montana) and I would feel my cock growing eager and hungry to be shoved back inside his very cooperative fuck chute.
We were at a pause in our daily labors and Lance had now left us alone and was attempting to use the shower (“attempting” is an apt phrase, because he was so large now that he barely fit himself inside the stall, and we could hear booms and bangs on the walls as he maneuvered his bulk around to clean every part of his massive musculature) while we discussed leaving these four walls and the broken beds behind for a few hours.
“Where would you suggest, then?”
I sat up and tried looking offended. “I beg your pardon?”
He just laughed and rolled his eyes. “It’s an underground club. Moves around a lot, because of its…unsavory nature.”
“I’d never have guessed that from the name,” I offered. He rolled his eyes again.
We were both naked. My dick, which had lately enjoyed so much attention offered by my two companions, was (as usual) firm and tingling. I always seemed to be on the edge of exploding, and I enjoyed the feeling immensely. My cock was now like some finely-tuned instrument designed to fuck and cum, delivering these hard, constant throbs of orgasmic sex to my entire body when I wasn’t shoving it inside someone else’s butt, and according to both Lance and Sam nothing and nobody else felt as good to them as me when I was fucking them. “It’s like having heaven plugged directly into my head,” Sam put it, rather poetically. Lance was a bit more direct, and said that my cock delivering its load in his ass was “the greatest fucking feeling in the whole fucking world.”
Did I worry what would happen with this constantly-throbbing mega-meat when we got back to college and I had to try dealing with ownership of the biggest and most easily aroused prick in the world?
Sort of. But I chose not to worry about that and just enjoy what it could do, which was offer me endless and mind-blowing orgasms and apparently drive the object of its attention bat-shit crazy with sexual pleasure. I mean, what’s wrong with that?
I could feel myself throb and swell with eager anticipation as Sam explained the details of this club he intended to show us.
“Anything goes,” he said.
“Anything?” My eyebrow rose in doubt. There’s a lot of anything in anything goes.
“Anything. Everything! You can do whatever you want to, with whomever you want to, assuming of course that you and he both want to.”
My dick throbbed hard. “Anything.”
He nodded vigorously. “I’ve done some absolutely filthy things there. With some absolutely gorgeous men. It’s like if you took all your most pornographic fantasies and rolled them all up into a big fat veiny super-cock and then coated the cock in lube and stuck it in your butt.”
“I thought you were a writer.”
His eyes flickered at my crotch. “I take inspiration where I find it.”
I looked down at my fat, butt-hungry prick and saw his point. As my boyfriend continued to swell, so did I—just in that one area. It was huge, it was fat, and it was incredibly sensitive. Frankly if someone attractive just breathed on me now I would probably start pumping cream at his face.
“So what you’re saying is that we’d fit in perfectly.”
“What I’m saying is that if you and Lance walked into Motherfucker, I think the entire planet would probably feel the group orgasm.”
Motherfucker was, for its current incarnation, housed in an abandoned warehouse set somewhat outside the beach town’s environs. This meant that Lance got to be his own naked parade for several blocks (I suggested maybe we take the truck but Lance insisted he wanted to “get some sun”) while the head of my prick dangled near my knee and poked out of my shorts, its entire length getting constantly rubbed by the material. I was leaking pre like a snail trail along the sidewalk, and Sam swore he could “smell my fuck scent” like perfume on the wind.
Lance was…well, to say that Lance was huge would be the ultimate understatement. We had been more less constantly in a state of sexual congress over the past several days, he and I and Sam, and though I had not managed to shove a giant dose of growth cream inside him, I think he was just constantly growing bigger and stronger on an hourly basis. Just in more subtle ways.
Or maybe it was just that I was more used to seeing his body in a horizontal position and now that he was vertical again, and I was walking next to him, his overall bulk and height and muscular development was overwhelming to me. I could…feel him as he walked, as if he was a kind of planet made of muscle with his own gravitational pull, only his gravity was made of sexual attraction and masculine power, and its pull was absolute.
Naked, as usual, he moved with an athletic grace that belied his size and immensity. Even after showering, I swear I could smell his masculine muskiness with the same strength that Sam said he could smell mine. It was like a fog of pure male fuck, a scent that made my heart race and my fat cock throb along its entire length. I wanted to stick my nose into his hairy butt crack and lap it all up like some sexual honey.
Muscle stuck out from his frame in giant balls and cables and wedges. His definition was insane, as was his aesthetic beauty. Each muscle, even though he had not been training them to harmonious size and balance at a gym, was perfect. Watching him move, I could see each muscle swell and stretch and flex beneath his skin. I could practically see the individual muscle fibers that collecting into fat cables that bulged and twisted with even his slightest movement.
Who knows how strong he had become? When he had broken world record lifts in the college gym, he was probably a hundred pounds lighter than he was now. I couldn’t even begin to estimate his strength. His enormous chest looked capable of bench pressing a fucking train, and his arms were thick enough to bend steel beams a foot thick. The sidewalk practically cracked with each stride of his monumental body, and the cock that swung between his two mind-blowing thighs was as gorgeous and perfect and huge as the rest of him.
No wonder I had a near-constant hard-on when I was around him! The dude was living, breathing, throbbing, fuck-scented, naked sex on two enormously powerful legs.
Lance, as usual, treated everything that was happening to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He walked in naked glory down the sidewalk, even occasionally waving at the gawkers who simply could not believe what they were seeing. He’d raise an arm swollen with fat balls and cables of raw muscle and smile that dick-hardening smile of his and greet some dude as if this sort of thing happens every day. Because, sure, when don’t you see a seven-foot-high, three-foot-wide naked dude coated with a beautiful forest of dark fur and swollen with muscle walking along the sidewalk with his massive length of cock wagging like a pendulum?
Lance was now head-and-shoulders taller than me, and I was slightly taller than Sam. Sam looked the most normal of us, because he was. Lance was a naked muscle-bound bear-god, I had a cock that could choke, well, anybody with its plum-sized head dangling below the leg of my shorts, and Sam just looked like Sam, all lanky limbs and tight butt and toothy smile.
The sun was setting when we reached the location. It was quiet and looked deserted, and Sam said, “We’re early. Things don’t really get cranking until midnight.”
“Well,” said Lance, with a dangerous gleam in his sea-green eyes, “let’s get this party started.”
We walked up to what we assumed was the entrance and Sam knocked on the door. It opened slightly and Sam asked, “What’s up, Motherfucker?”
“We ain’t ready yet,” the shadows replied.
Sam stepped back to allow the sight of Lance’s naked perfection to grace the guard’s eyeline. “You sure about that?” he asked.
“Hi!” said Lance, moving his hand down to his fat shank of sex, grabbing himself by his thick shaft and pointing his huge cock head towards the door. “Wanna fuck?”
That line always seems to work for him. Weird, huh?
Needless to say, Motherfucker opened early that Thursday evening.
Stepping inside, every eye turned towards us as we made our way inside the cavernous space. It may have been because there was sunlight from outside spilling into the darkness, or it may have been because Lance’s bulk acted like an eclipse and made that sudden brightness turn just as suddenly dark.
Whatever the reason (and I have to suspect that at least some of the reason was that a seven-foot-tall naked bodybuilder with a 10-inch shank of wrist-thick sex meat had entered) we were quite suddenly the center of attention.
Luckily, that’s exactly where Lance was most comfortable being.
My eyes were still adjusting to the darkness when I heard Lance’s deep, powerful baritone say, “Hi,” brightly. Looking over, his dick was already inflating, throbbing and swelling and rising, and I could feel that weird and distinctly sexual heat pouring off his huge butt-naked body. It was making my own monster start to roar, and I was getting harder and bigger so quickly that I was starting to feel the pain of being caged up inside my shorts. I was struggling to get myself free, unzipping and trying to pull my foot-long and growing prick into the open when he asked, “Who wants to fuck?”
Apparently, the answer was ‘everybody.’
Lance is a huge dude, but he was nearly bowled over by the sudden onslaught of young dudes literally running at him. I was being grabbed and sucked and kissed and poked and manhandled and I started pumping jizz all over the fucking place like an uncapped hose. I don’t even remember disrobing but I got naked pretty fast.
I kind of lost track of the other two for a while, to be honest. When you’re the focus of that much intent lust and you find your dick being so fervently and constantly cared for, with dozens of mouths and butts and hands all over the thing as you’re practically cumming constantly, I dare you to be able to focus on what’s happening to someone else, let alone form a cogent question like “who is fucking my boyfriend right now?”
I knew Lance could handle himself, of course, and frankly I can’t think of a single thing someone else could do to him that he wouldn’t find the sexual angle in. The dude was a fucking brick house with a steel rod for a cock and muscles powerful enough to literally shove a ton of iron off his chest, along a libido so strong that he can literally have sex for hours at a time—if not for days—and still be ready for more, so it kind of boggles my mind to try to think of something some other dude or dudes could do to him or with him that he didn’t want to have happen.
When he asks you if you wanna fuck, you better believe he’s ready to do just that.
Me, I could handle myself, too, but I gotta admit that when my dick starts fountaining its unending load, my brain kind of goes south and all I’m feeling or thinking about is how great it all feels. You can fucking rake your teeth up every inch of my cock and it’s just gonna make me cum even harder. And there were dudes kissing my mouth and twisting my nips and licking my ass and sucking the exploding plum of my prick and all I could do was try to keep breathing as I was taken along for another deeply orgasmic ride. I guess that my...whatever power that Sam mentioned, my sex-throbs or whatever, probably contributed to this sudden sexual explosion that engulfed the three of us. I couldn’t say for sure, because I guess I was the one making it happen.
Sam, I hoped, was somewhere in that mix. The dude had a talented ass that could take whatever Lance and I had thrown at him, and lord knows the dude liked to lap at a butt like a starving man facing his first meal in months.
As night fell, the place started filling up with new dudes and I became something like a feast for them, as the old guard fell by the wayside and new lips and asses and hands took over. How many dudes did I fill with cum? How many asses did I fuck? How many mouths did I kiss and how many dicks did I suck?
I can’t even estimate. Dozens, for sure.
Somewhere in there, I could feel…that feeling. The one that told me, with increasing clarity of purpose, that I was building up one hell of a bodybuilding blast for Lance’s magic muscles and all I needed to do was plug myself in and watch him grow. It felt as if all this sex, all this fucking and sucking, all this kissing and cumming, were only opening up the throttle on my engine instead of using up all the gas. As if my body now hungered for sex, devoured the sensation of my unending orgasms like fuel for the fire that I would eventually unleash inside Lance’s perfect ass and watch and feel his body swelling with power and sex.
Something had changed, or maybe I was just finally aware of what was happening with me and my magic balls and my monster dick. Fucking Lance was always amazing, but I rarely managed to push him into bigger territory all on my own. I had to have this, the energy of sex, or the unbroken sensation of horniness, or something. After that morning in the gym with me stoking the fires as I watched his strength on display. After that night in the bar being serviced by an endless supply of randy old dudes wanting nothing more than to get off, or to get me off. And now this evening, too.
Was there a connection I had missed? A reason for what was happening?
I realized I was not growing more tired and spent as the night of a thousand orgies progressed—I was getting more powerful. I was…absorbing all this masculine sexual energy, pulling it inside me like a sponge and building up a reserve of powerful muscle juice. Even as my dick was unleashing torrents of hot cream, my balls were storing up whatever it was that I needed to help Lance get bigger, and with every minute of time spent with this parade of sexual energy focused on my body, I was charging my batteries for a huge discharge of the fuel that fed Lance’s continuing development.
Finally, after hours of endless sex, I knew I could hold back no longer. I knew that I was going to explode if I tried to soak any more masculine power inside me, where it grew hot and hard and thick and pushed into my balls, turning into a thick hot cream filled with masculine energy, the ultimate gift of power for my huge, perfect lover. I was so charged up it hurt, like a throbbing pain and an overwhelming fire and a feeling of weight and tugging at my cock and balls.
Mouth on my cock, sucking my load. Cock in my ass, pumping me with cum. Lips on my mouth, tongue pushing inside, balls on fire, prick exploding.
Hands grabbing me, pulling me, embracing me. Lips at my ear, whiskers on my cheek. Soft deep voice in my head. “Are you ready, baby?”
“Are you ready to give it all to me?”
“Are you ready to watch me grow?”
I opened my eyes. Lance kissed me with utter passion, pressing his mighty body against mine, every muscle coated in sweat, the smell of sex surrounding us.
“Are you ready, baby?”
“Gotta fucking cum…”
“Fuck me, baby.”
“Fuck me hard. Harder than you ever fucked me before.”
“Make me grow.”
I could feel his heat, his need, his power. He slapped his great, huge frame onto his back and opened his legs wide, showing me that familiar pink pucker that was so happy to welcome me inside. He held his ankles in his paws and spread himself open to me, his musk like a wave of heat that swept over me, washing my skin in his sexual power.
His tight hole was wet with spit and cum and lube, amply prepared for the fat length of cock I was going to feed it. His legs were lined with thick wedges of muscle and his cock, a hot shank of thick sex, reached up his body and drooled warm honey into the deep crevasse between his massive pectoral globes.
My balls ached with their load. I’d been coming constantly for hours, probably, but saving up this just for him. My magic muscle-making cum, super-powered and swollen with strength. “Gotta fucking cum,” I whispered.
I pushed the head of my monster at his hole. He groaned and opened for my hugeness, using the massive control he had over every super-powered muscle packed onto his giant frame. A kiss of wet heat like his hungry mouth and tongue encased my rock-hard prick and I shoved myself inside.
I exploded. White hot lava was erupting up my cock and flooding him with power.
I started slowly fucking his ass, feeling him grip me like a vice and start to suck every drop I had for him from my balls.
I leaned over him and pushed my lips against his and we kissed. We were coated in sweat and slippery, his heavy forest of dark fur glistening like silk. His long, talented tongue shoved inside my mouth and his hands were on my head, holding my mouth against his and I started cumming harder, still, my shout of absolute bliss stifled by our kiss.
I could feel him swelling, feel his chest inflate and press against me, feel his cock stretching longer, growing thicker, feel the sexual heat from his naked body envelope and caress me.
I came even harder.
A flood of hot cum squeezed from my over-burdened balls, every drop screaming with muscle and sex and beauty, flooding his guts and making him grow.
“Make me grow.”
Yes. This is all I wanted, now. Make him grow.
I looked at his face, looked into his eyes, watching him growing more handsome, more beautiful, more perfect as I shoved my hot load inside him and made him grow.
His mouth was open and he was gasping in air. His green gaze was lost in some mutual orgasmic perfection and he sank into that sensation of muscular development, his strength swelling in time with his body. He was in total bliss, accepting my gift and growing more powerful with every heartbeat.
He was swelling with muscle under me, his ass tightening around my steel-clad cock as I grew longer inside him, thicker and harder like a perfect cannon shooting my cum inside his swelling muscles. I could feel that sensation of perfect eruption as I delivered my copious load and my whole thick prick was throbbing with intense sexual power.
His eyes opened and he smiled at me. “I can feel it,” he said. “Give it all to me. I want it all.”
I leaned back, looking down at him, watching his body swelling with power, and pushed myself in to the hilt. I exploded, gasping and shouting, lost to pure bliss and orgasmic ecstasy, crying out with rapture as I gave Lance all that I had to give him and watched his muscles swell bigger.
I was lost in some kind of perfect sexual haze, it was like heroin and it was shooting directly into my brain. I came and came, like I’d never come again, shooting a thick, hot, potent stream inside Lance as he swelled and stretched and grew.
I looked at him and he looked at me. What did I even look like, my monster shoved all the way inside him as I exploded cum like a hydrant? I felt that I was unaware of anything but him and me, this connection, and me shoving an endless stream of cum inside him as my balls blazed and my cock swelled. I was lost inside that endless orgasmic perfection and saw his mouth open and smiling as his pectoral masses rose and split and his eight-pack deepened and his arms swelled up like balloons.
Stars began to sparkle in my darkening vision. A tingling sensation was creeping up my arms from my fingers, a sort of numbness like warmth creeping over my skin.
Everything. Take everything. Take it all.
I felt a hand on the back of my neck, being pulled forward, the warmth of his body growing deeper, the smell of his sexy musk enveloping my senses, lips against mine, arms surrounding me, his hard body pressed against mine as it swelled bigger and bigger.
“Thank you,” he said.