A psychologist prepares himself to meet the subject whose response to the enhancement drug was so intense that just to be near him is to risk erotic overload… a man known only as Twenty-Five.
It’s really not fair, how sexy I am. I’m not boasting or exaggerating. I’m not overestimating my incredible sexiness, I can see it every day. Every minute. Every second. It’s in the way I make others feel, how they look at me, leer at me, lust after me. And I don’t blame them at all. Fuck, I wish I was looking at my own perfect ass right now.
I smiled hearing his voice again. The trepidation and the desire in it, seeing my name pop up on his screen. “Hello.” It was all I said. One word. But I heard him groan with sexual ecstasy through my phone’s tiny speaker. Even diluted by electronics and distance, the power of my voice was undeniable. “Can you come over?”
He groaned again. I think he came in his drawers. “I….”
“Alone?” He knew I could handle a dozen partners at the same time and satisfy every one of them, but when I concentrated myself on one person it was like traveling to Fuck planet in the Fuck galaxy on a fuck rocket fueled by fuck. I just can’t help myself, I’m insanely good at sex.
“I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
“And after that?”
“Do you want something to tide you over until then?”
This was so easy. I barely had to try anymore. I licked my lips, closed my eyes, pictured my own naked reflection, grabbed my huge cock in my talented hand, felt my cock swell and thicken and harden and surge with power, and said, slowly and deeply, “Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
He groaned again and I knew I made him come. He started breathing hard and was lost for words.
“See you soon,” I said, and hung up.
It’s not without its own challenges, this situation I find myself in. I can’t say I didn’t ask for it, because I did. I wanted this. I just didn’t know how powerful the results would be. No one else did either, apparently.
And now I had to be careful. Not too careful, thankfully, because my sex drive is now as strong as a tidal wave and as constant as breathing. I try to avoid mirrors because I even turn myself on. Looking down at my muscular body is enough to get my balls churning and my dick throbbing, but seeing my reflection can have the same effects on me as seeing me has on anyone else.
That’s why I’m careful. Getting out of the lab was relatively easy. Convincing the good doctor that I was no longer a danger to others and that I understood what my effect was, that wasn’t difficult. It helps that after having sex with me, people will do whatever I ask just for the chance that we could do it again.
I hope it feels as good for them as it does for me. It’s nearly uncontrollable, the volume of erotic bliss I experience when I’m with anyone else. It doesn’t even take that much effort. A stroke, a kiss, a touch, hell I think the right person could breathe on my exposed neck and make me come.
And I can come constantly, now. Or nearly constantly, anyway. It’s not like I’ve taken a test or something to see how often I can come and how much cum I can produce. But… it’s a lot. Plus it doesn’t take a lot of coaxing to get my balls pumping and my dick throbbing and a fat fountain of sticky, warm, delicious cum to fountain from my prick like a fucking… fountain.
Sorry, words were never my strong point. Plus, it’s like every word I utter now can make a dude hard and start leaking pre all over his dick. Which, obviously, makes me horny.
Hornier. If that’s even possible.
When I’m not coming I’m thinking about coming, and my balls are throbbing and swelling, and my dick is throbbing and swelling, and my ass is tingling and pulsing.
So I jerk off a lot. Because of the being careful thing. And because I have to. Otherwise it feels like I’ve got so much cum in my fat balls that they’re gonna burst.
I put my phone down and saw my arm. The insane muscularity of it. The soft curls of hair. The vascular rivers pulsing under my insanely silken skin. My dick pulsed and released a fresh delivery of pre, pumping a thick drool of the sex-scented honey that swelled into a small orb at the lips of my piss slit and grew into a thick, warm delivery cascading down the thick inches of cock I own. I pushed three fingers into the honey and lifted them to my mouth to taste the insane erotic flavor of my near constant delivery. It hit my tongue like lightning, a sizzling delivery of salty pre that somehow could plug directly into the pleasure centers of my brain and make my dick pump another thick drool almost instantly.
I needed sex. Jerking off was all well and good, and it partially relieved my constantly starving libido, but I needed to fuck someone. And I needed someone to fuck me. I needed a mouth on my cock and a cock in my ass and a tongue in my mouth and hands fucking everywhere, all over my glorious naked body. Nothing was off the table as far as pleasure was concerned. Tease me, lick me, kiss me, suck me, fuck me.
Ideally I would have invited over a whole platoon of men to service my needs, like I had done on the first day of escaping my captivity. I walked outside and stripped off that stupid cloak and immediately the first, like, dozen people I encountered were all over me. And I was all over them. I came a few times and stayed hard, like I do now, and they were batshit crazy with lust and a few of them passed out before I reigned myself in a bit so as not to drive them all crazy with my fuck power.
They were right to be cautious—to be afraid—of what I had become. Even I didn’t know the full extents of the power I now wielded when it came to sex and lust and erotic capacity.
Thing is? I can suppress it if I really want to, but I find that I don’t want to. It feels good. Better than good. It’s all I crave now. And when I suppress it, it’s kind of like a balloon that’s being constantly inflated without a release. More and more, bigger and bigger, this desire and lust and passion. I can feel it almost like a drug, but it’s both feeding me and demanding to be fed.
He wouldn’t be over for another hour, at least, although I had planted in his brain an insatiable need for what only I can give him, so it was more likely he’d find some excuse to get out of seeing his patient and whatever their insignificant problems were when compared to the overwhelming and undeniable sexual power I could deliver with one finger pressed against his nipple.
When all this started? I guess I was expecting, you know, more hard-ons. I was a college student in need of some funds and wasn’t having any trouble getting it up, but if someone wants to pay me a few hundred dollars to take some pills to try to increase my libido and “enhance my masculinity,” sign me up!
But in retrospect, what I thought being a man felt like, what I thought what it was, that was just the smallest iota of its true power. I was a hot, horny, muscled up boy back then, and now I’m more man than anyone has ever been. I sweat pure testosterone. I cum thick loads of the purest manifestation of masculine power the world has ever known. I swallow it when I come, so I know what it is, what it tastes like, how it feels inside you when you gulp down my torrent and allow it to swell inside you, working its way into your muscles and cock, making you so hot you’d swear you could fuck forever.
And still that’s just a whisper of the deep-throated shout of heavy duty dick power pulsing in my blood.
I love being a man, and everything that implies. I don’t like labels so I don’t call myself gay or bi or ‘curious,’ but I like having sex. With other people who also like having sex. It’s mutually beneficial and occasionally really hot.
Now it’s always hot. Which was what they promised. “Heightened arousal and amplified sexual pleasure.” I mean, who would say no to that? Even if I had known how heightened and amplified I’d end up being, I still would have done it.
What’s it feel like? Being the ultimate man? Maybe you think it’s all about domination, about stepping into a space and announcing your presence and demanding that everyone there is your bitch. Maybe you think it feels like power, like that feeling after a hard workout, that kind of singing in your muscles and your body is sweaty and hard and you feel so strong.
Well, sort of, but I know I’m the alpha in the room. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. When I’m there, no one else compares to me. No one. I don’t give a shit if you’ve been working out your whole life and developed a body bulging with muscle. I don’t care if you own a big cock, a thick, meaty, juicy shank of throbbing sex that you can hardly fit in your drawers. I don’t care how tall you are, or how big, or how strong or how much you fuck.
I am the alpha. I am the epitome of male glory and no one, fucking no one even comes close. I just… know it. It’s what I am.
Which isn’t to say that I have no regrets at all. Just walking around and inspiring sudden and undeniable orgasms from everyone else was kind of surprising, to say the least. Could I help it if I was so fucking sexy and beautiful that everyone I met came? So what if I can smile at someone and make them shudder with an orgasm so intense that their knees go weak and they fall to the floor in complete ecstasy?
I knew they would pitch a fit once that happened, so I had to pretend that it scared me. That I was ashamed of it. “Oh no! I’m so sorry I made you fucking explode with the most powerful fucking orgasm you’ve ever experienced and all I did was lick my lips! Oh no!”
The opposite was true, of course. It turned me on even more. Feeling all those people erupt with thick loads of hot cum felt as if I was being doused in fire. I could feel them getting aroused, and it drove my own arousal. I was feeding off it, and swallowing it down, and holding it inside me until I grew stronger still.
I’m not a monster, no matter what anyone thinks. I mean, yeah, once someone is with me they’re kind of like my slave. They’ll do anything I ask to get another taste. I’m like the ultimate drug, the ultimate euphoria, doing to someone’s pleasure centers what heroin can do, but accompanied with an awesome, overwhelming orgasm!
From my perspective, this is a win-win, right? I get whatever I want, they get the best fucking orgasm they’re ever going to get, and I can give it to them over and over and over and we both enjoy it. Hell, I bet I enjoy it more than they do, I just don’t go fucking crazy afterwards.
There is one little—or rather, big problem, and that’s my dick. It’s fucking enormous. And it keeps getting bigger and there’s not a lot of indication that it’s going to stop. Don’t get me wrong, they still beg for it. “Just a touch!” Or “Please let me lick it!” Or “I can’t believe how beautiful it is!”
Everything is fucking beautiful. It’s weird, kind of, how attractive I am, even to me. Like, what are the things about me—the way I look, the way I move, the way I speak, hell, even the way I just stand there—that make me so fucking gorgeous? Again, not being an egotistic asshole, here, it’s just a fact. A fact I can back up with dozens of actual people erupting with huge loads into their pants when all I do is look at them.
Fuck, I need to get off. I’m gonna go stand in front of the mirror admiring myself, sniff my pits, rub my hole, play with these fucking sensitive nips and empty my fat balls a few times. That always helps relieve the pressure, at least until the good doctor gets here. I owe him a lot for getting me the hell out of there.
I bet I could fuck myself now.
I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. Literally, I could not.
If you’ve been with him, you’ll understand. Hell, if you’ve merely seen him in person, you’d probably line up behind me to see what you could do for him. To honor him. To worship him. To be with him.
I still call him 25 because that’s what he calls himself. It’s as good as any other name, I guess. Plus it serves as a kind of password, keeping him secret until we can’t keep him secret anymore.
I didn’t have to sneak him out or anything. I mean, this was just a pharmaceuticals company, not some secret military lab buried in the side of a mountain in an abandoned missile silo. It was a regular building on a regular street of a lot of other buildings. I signed him out, I told them he was fine, that he was in fact perfect, and no one had anything to fear from him.
I think that’s true. At least, it is for now. He may be sexually irresistible and a walking mountain of thickly developed muscle with a cock as huge and thick as I’ve ever seen, but he’s curiously passive. Almost docile. Like he knows he doesn’t have to try to be the dominant man in the room, he doesn’t have to prove a god damned thing to anyone. He just… is.
When 25 fucked me, I admit I was scared initially. I mean, he’s huge. But I don’t know what he’s got in those balls of his but when he touched my hole with that slippery pole of his, drooling streams of warm, slick pre, it just felt good. Then it felt great. Then it felt amazing. Then I never wanted him to stop.
He grabbed my hips and used me like some fuck toy, pulling me back onto his massive shank of sex over and over until I started fucking him back. I wanted him as deep inside me as he could go. I’d never felt so… complete. So perfectly blissful. I’m surprised my moans of utter sexual fulfillment didn’t set off alarms. I’m also shocked I could pull off a straight face when we both walked out of that room after he’d pumped a few fat loads of cum inside me and my body was vibrating like a violin string that had been played by a virtuoso.
The moment he pulled himself out of me, I was his. I would have done anything for another thrust of that masterful prick. Another kiss from those soft, warm lips. Another stroke of his talented, strong hands along every inch of my flesh. It was more than sex, it was another level of fucking I never was possible.
He didn’t change me, exactly, but he knew—absolutely—that I was now his. Now and forever. No one else could possibly compare to the pleasure he delivered, the absolutely fulfillment of erotic perfection that pulsed and throbbed from every millimeter of his perfect male body.
I wasn’t even listening to whomever was talking in the meeting I attended as I looked down at my pad of paper and instead of notes, I was sketching a pretty good likeness of 25’s cock and balls. It’s like between my eyes and my ass, I had memorized every millimeter of his magical tool. The fat, drooling head, the long, thick, slightly curving shaft, its many gorgeous and powerful veins that pumped blood into its enormity to swell it larger and longer and thicker than any man’s cock had a right to be.
I realized my mouth was watering as I gazed at this facsimile of perfect masculine sex. My mind flashed back to those minutes we were together, me bent over grasping the table with my pants around my ankles as he thrust himself inside me, creating massive throbbing vibrations of pure erotic power that radiated out from his cock to every inch of my body. Fuck, even my fingertips were tingling with sex!
I pulled in a slow, calming breath and flipped the page over, trying to pull my concentration back to the meeting, but it was useless. I could feel the load he’d drained from my balls with his simple utterance of the word ‘fuck’ over the phone growing cold in my shorts. My cock was firm and my balls were swimming in cum, but I wanted more. I needed more.
I glanced at the clock again. Twenty minutes to go! Fuck, this is torture! I need his cock in me. I need to kiss his lips. I need to pull the fat, spongey head of his dick inside my mouth and suck him until he’s erupting with another awesome, thick load of cream down my throat.
I set my pen to the clean sheet of paper and started to sketch his mouth. The soft lips, the strong chin, his perfect smile, curved up on one corner because he was thinking how he was going to fuck me again. My dick throbbed and shoved against my zipper, coated in a massive delivery of cum that he had summoned from me with a word.
I glanced up at the room and no one was paying me any attention. My crotch, beneath the conference table, was tented with my hard-on and soaked in cum. I looked down and my dick throbbed. I wanted them to see! I wanted them to witness my masculine energy, and what 25 did to me! What was happening?
“Are you okay?” Someone spoke. The meeting was adjourned. My dick was now twitching and throbbing, aching to be near 25 again.
“I’m okay,” I said. I was suddenly flipping the pad of paper over to hide the drawing I’d made of 25’s mouth.
“You’re sweating,” they said.
I was. I was hot all over. Fucking in heat for him. For his touch. For his kiss. For his cock. “I’m… maybe I’m not feeling as well as I thought.”
“Maybe you should head home and take care of yourself.”
I was certainly going to take care of one important need, but I wasn’t headed home.
I texted 25 that I was on my way. He texted back a smiley face. I texted back that I was horny as fuck and that I’d knock three times and then come in, giving him time to hide so I could try preparing myself for being exposed to 25’s overwhelming… everything.
I knocked as I had indicated and turned the doorknob to his apartment, which was in a rather sad building in a rather sad neighborhood. I guess he needed the stipend that came with the lab test after all.
As I opened the door, three things assailed me immediately and dove straight to my dick. First, the room was rank with his scent. It was as if he had soaked his funk into sponges and applied it to the walls. The room was practically dripping testosterone.
Second, he was lying on his back on a weight bench naked, pumping what looked like a few hundred pounds of iron above his massive chest. His reps were slow but easy, like the weight wasn’t a burden at all. But even from this angle where I couldn’t see his face clearly, his body was beautiful. Thick cables of muscle lined his thighs. His fat cock, semi-form, was arching itself across his hip like a sausage, drooling pre onto the bench where it dripped to a puddle on the floor beneath him. His pecs were rising up as he worked out like moons coming over the horizon. His abs were finely cut and moving as he breathed.
Thirdly, he was making these very deep, very masculine grunts as he pumped the weight and I was immediately reminded of how he sounded when he fucked me. He wasn’t groaning, “oh, fuck yeah. Oh fuck you feel so good, baby. I could fuck you all night long.” But the grunts of power were the same.
He paused mid-pump as I entered, looking down his long body towards where I stood in his doorway, holding the bar above his chest easily.
“Hi,” 25 said. I almost forgot how the sound of his masculine voice could also cause such a dramatic sexual reaction to anyone hearing it, including me—and I was used to it!
“Fuck,” I said, overwhelmed all over again. “I thought you were going to hide.”
He shrugged and smiled, replacing the barbell in its holder above his head and then he sat up, and I swooned. His face! God, it was so beautiful. “Can’t hide all this gorgeousness forever, can I?” He allowed his arms to fall to his sides and then smiled as he looked down at himself. “Check it out, dude.” He closed his eyes and moaned, “Fuck yeah, feels so good.”
At first I didn’t know what he was referring to, and then I saw it. Rather, I saw them.
His pecs were slowly, very slowly, growing. It was subtle as hell, but growing more evident. I could see the stark bands of raw brawn multiplying. He was growing fresh, hard muscle before my eyes. Then he flexed his bigger pecs and made them dance for me.
“What the hell?”
He opened his eyes and looked up, running his big hands across the larger expanse of muscular globes mounted on his chest. “Yeah, it started today. At first I was all, no fucking way, that can’t be happening. But….” He grinned and leaned down, picking up two dumbbells into his hands and starting to perform flawless sets of biceps curls. He did only a dozen before hoisting the weights over his head and giving his triceps an equal workout before dropping the dumbbells to the floor.
Then he looked at me and lifted his arms and swelled all that beautiful, perfect muscle into softball-sized masses. He started to flex them, making his biceps grow hard and striated, but after each flex—they stayed larger. He was pumping his arms bigger just by flexing them. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
He dropped his arms to his sides and stood up, his massive cock flopping forward and hanging down his legs, the head now nearly to his knees. I think he was even taller than before, or at least taller than I remembered. Maybe it was just that the ceilings in his apartment were much shorter than the ones in the lab.
25 started out tall, but now he was towering over me, and I’m no slouch at 5’ 11’. He owned a flawlessly sculpted body of bulging muscle masses in absolutely unrivaled proportions. Even his now bigger chest and arms looked perfect on his body. I watched his pecs to see if he was still growing, but now that he was moving around I couldn’t discern that subtle increase of muscle mass.
He stepped forward, moving away from the sweat-covered bench, whose seat I longed to lick, and opened his thickly muscled arms to embrace me in a welcoming hug. It was like being surrounded by boulders covered in silk, and his erotic scent enflamed my libido like a drug.
He held me for a long time, and I didn’t want to separate, but eventually we did and I scanned his naked body, noticing new muscular development all over his frame. We had only been apart a day, but it looked like he’d gained ten or more pounds. “I don’t understand how you could possibly be growing like that….”
“Your disbelief doesn’t make it less true,” he pointed out logically, which just made him more attractive to me. “Oh! Also, there’s this.” He held his palm towards me and I looked at it curiously. “Sniff it,” he advised. I did. Something incredibly erotic entered my nostrils, something sexy and sensual, like a whiff of balls or leather. My dick throbbed and my own balls sizzled. “That’s my spit.”
He nodded and then smelled his hand. “I was jerking off earlier, no surprise there, I know. I mean, look at me. And I spat in my hand to, you know, lube up my grip like usual and then I caught a whiff of it, the spit on my hand, and it made me so fucking horny. So I was stroking my joint with one spit-slick grip while snorting the other hand like coke.” He grinned and lifted his arm, exposing his wet pit and the sodden curls of underarm hair in the deep, muscular chasm. “Same thing in there, only it’s harder for me to stick my nostrils in. Seems like it’s even stronger. Give it a snort, see for yourself. Oh! You might want to take your pants off first. It’ll make you fucking hard as a rock.”
Even before I pushed my nose into his sweaty arm pit, I could smell what he was describing. He was evidently now emitting a heady, erotic aroma so packed with raw carnal redolence that it was drilling itself through my nasal cavity directly into the pleasure centers of my brain. I could easily imagine myself sitting at home on my couch with a rag soaked in 25’s sweat and spit and jerking off for hours and hours.
25 still had his pit exposed and he moved his mouth towards it and stuck out his tongue, a long, wet, pink snake that danced and stretched until he was licking at the drops of sweat clinging to his fur. Then he was moaning a deep, guttural sound like a bear. “So fucking good,” he said, raising his hand to gather a wealth of his sweat onto his fingers and sucking it off. “So fucking good,” he repeated softly.
Then he looked at me and offered his sweaty fingers. “Suck it off, bro. I’ve never had Viagra but this shit works immediately and gets me hard as fucking steel.”
I did as he asked, as I would always do, and a sudden electric shock of sex erupted on my tongue. As I swallowed his sweat down my throat, that tingling sensation of intense erotic pleasure accompanied its trip inside me, branching out into my arms and hands and fingers, spreading through my belly and pelvis and loins until it sank its teeth into my cock and I was suddenly, almost painfully erect.
“So fucking good,” he said, smiling at me. Then he turned around, offering me a look at his perfect, arching ass and his widely tapered muscular back. “But all this shit, the aroma, the sexy spit, this always hard cock throbbing between my legs, these are all kind of nice, but it’s how I feel that’s really been altered.”
“Not sure I understand,” I replied honestly.
His back was still to me as he straightened, and his voice deepened. “It’s referred to as ‘male enhancement,’ this amazing drug of yours. And I signed up thinking it’d make me hornier, which obviously, and feel sexier, which ditto, and probably make my dick hard, not that I necessarily needed a harder one but now that I own it I couldn’t be happier with the result.” He turned around. He was heavily aroused, his fat, long cock arching up from his loins and throbbing hard, a thick drool of precum flowing from its mouth.
“But the enhancement part has also effected my emotions, and my ego, and my confidence.” He paused and smiled and then looked at me with his penetrating gaze. “I had a dream last night. It was very vivid, very lifelike. Have you had dreams like that? Difficult to separate from reality?” I nodded positively.
His smile softened even as his gaze hardened. “Do you know why the Alpha of a wolf pack is called that? It’s a commonly held belief that it is because that wolf is the most dominant, the one who will fight all the others for the right to be pack master. But that’s wrong. In fact, it’s nearly the opposite of the reason he is the Alpha.
“The Alpha gains his role not through fighting and contesting, but with fucking. He started his own pack. An alpha in the most literal sense. He separates from his old pack and starts a new one, because he can, or because he must. Making more of his pack by fucking more of his pack.
“You were in my dream. I was fucking you again, watching my cock shove in and out of your tight, pink ass hole. I could feel the strong vibrations of sexual bliss erupting along every inch of my colossus, feel my balls bulging with cum, feel my muscles tingle with the strength of new growth with every push inside you.
“Because with you, I was starting my pack. I was the Alpha, fucking you into my crew, my gang, my posse, my pack. And as I brought you in with each thrust of my hips and each groan of bliss rumbling in your throat and every throbbing, powerful sensation of pure masculine energy building inside me, poised to be shoved out of my prick in a thick, wet, gorgeous fountain of incandescent cream, I knew that you were only the first of many who would come to me, or be brought to me, or find me.
“And my pack would grow and grow, both in size and in power. Each of you would inherit my new enhanced male form, soaking it in from my sweat and my cum and my spit, slowly evolving your own forms to their most perfect shape, your bodies growing tall and wide and thick with gorgeous muscles, your cocks plumping thicker and inching forward to drape their massive shanks over your heavy balls fat with cum.”
He paused and held my gaze. I was trapped there, unable to move or to speak, looking at this man who was more than man, more than human, someone or something more beautiful and powerful and strong than anyone had ever been before.
“You are my first. More will come.”
“More will come,” I agreed.
“But for now….” His smile turned lascivious and he walked to me and tore the clothes from my body as if they were made of paper. “Your alpha needs to fuck.”
I told my friend the doctor that my pack would grow because the new members would come to me, or be brought to me, or find me, but I wasn’t talking on some weird metaphysical level or whatever. There was no, like, fuck magic involved. Although that seems cool. Fuck magic.
Anyway, alls I meant was that my new pack members couldn’t help but find me, because I was irresistible. I mean, hell, all I have to do is step outside on the sidewalk, fully clothed although I’m pretty much naked 24-7 these days because A, clothes don’t fit me anymore and B, I love being naked and showing my assets off.
I wonder if it makes a difference, whether I’m wearing clothes or not? I kind of want to do a test of some sort, like, me showing up in a suit, seeing what the reaction is, then me showing up in like jeans and a tight t-shirt or a tank top, my fat sensitive nips shoving against the cotton, see if the reaction is stronger or different, and then get some bondage gear, like some chaps and a harness and some leather armbands gripping these massive biceps with my big ol’ dick hanging out and these fat, cum-burdened balls slapping against my massively muscular thighs.
Fuck, I’m getting turned on just imagining seeing myself like that! I bet the good doctor would be willing to use his hard-earned cash to buy me whatever I wanted. Would that make me a whore? Charging for my time and my cock?
Fuck, I bet I could make a fucking mint in a weekend in Vegas. Show up on the Strip wearing like these tight fucking jeans hiked up my ass crack, the outline of the thick shank of my prick inching towards my hip, my enormous fucking pecs, coated in fur with these fat nips pointing at everyone to be sucked on. Take a few dudes back to my suite and have my way with all of them until I was satisfied, and then go out and do it all over again with a fresh batch of horny men because I am never, in fact, satisfied.
I do have more than a few monetary concerns now that I’m Fuckmaster Supreme, mostly having to do with my constant growing body, muscles, and cock.
For one thing, my little off campus one-bedroom apartment is feeling mighty cramped now that I’m nearing seven feet in height and weigh something like three-fifty. Those first big muscular growth spurts have slowed down a bit but they haven’t stopped. I guess the drug goes through some kind of activation period where everything happens really fast, and then it, like, settles in to a more sedate groove after the initial, you know, massive upgrade.
Then again I can’t really challenge my muscles anymore with the sad little weight set and worn out bench I have at home. I piled on every plate I can and now it just feels like nothing. I still like working out, even though it doesn’t feel like working out. I’m either gonna have to get some more plates for home or suck it up and go to the gym on campus. Probably cause a fucking riot when I show up, or a riot of fucking, or both.
Also I am constantly hungry. It’s less strenuous on me that the constant horniness, but it’s probably unsurprising that as my body continues its amazing growth and development, all these new muscles get hungry for protein. I can devour entire chickens and plateloads of veggies and pretty much anything I want to eat, no matter how bad it’s supposed to be for me, and it all gets turned into muscle. The more calories I consume, the faster it happens. I barely shit anything out anymore! It’s fucking weird!
Oh! Plus, like, my clothes. None of my old clothes fit anymore. Like, thank god for fucking Amazon, am I right? You can order fucking anything and it comes in like two days or something crazy. Right now I’m wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that I cut off at the knees three days ago and already they’re hugging my bubble butt like a second skin and you can make out my cock really obvious. Plus I’m wearing a jockstrap just to try to reign in the monster so it’s not, like, dangling out the hem of the sweats and drooling pre down my leg. Constant horniness is kinda messy, know what I mean?
Also the lab geniuses keep contacting me to pay them a visit so they can “check up on the progress of the project,” the project in question being little ol’ me. I’ve been putting them off because I know sure as shit they’re gonna have a freakout as massive as my big cock, which by the way now swells to an ungodly fourteen inches hard, while maintaining a not insubstantial nine inches soft—then again it’s rarely soft.
There are some other side effects I guess I hadn’t considered about becoming the sexiest man alive. Like, you probably are familiar with Morning Wood, or the propensity of one’s penis to maintain a state of arousal when first awakening.
Well, my Morning Wood is more like Morning Steel. And Noontime Iron. And Afternoon Hard as a Rock. I wake up with an erection so thick and hard and unyielding that I bet I could hammer nails into wood with it. It’s so big that turning over in bed is like having a third leg between my other two. And if I reach down and touch it, it feels hot and hard and starts, like, throbbing and vibrating and twitching like it’s gonna fucking explode or something—and then it does fucking explode all over my abs and chest and neck and chin and lips, pumping these thick ropes of hot cream about a dozen times as I gasp and groan and grab onto the sheets just to hang on and ride out the first incredible orgasm of the day.
Maybe having eight hours of downtime overnight builds up this massive reserve and I just can’t help it when my dick arches over my body and starts pumping fat fountains of cum as I hang on for dear life.
But, fuck, it feels so fucking good! The first cum of the day is amazing! And so far there’s no one there to help me out with it.
That’s probably the second big side effect of this situation, not that I’m complaining, but one partner just doesn’t cut it anymore. I fucking wear them out. But, I mean, I can’t logically spend all my time here calling up the good doctor and pulling up Tinder and, when I’ve gone through all those guys, Grindr, and when I’ve gone through all those guys, AdultFriendFinder.
25 keeps getting bigger and better, while I keep thinking there’s no way for that to happen, but it does!
He wasn’t wrong about building his pack, either. Whenever I turn up at his door I inevitably run into someone else leaving, and there’s this sort of… unspoken agreement between us when we meet. We both know why we’re there, we both know what he’s like and what he can do, we’re both now addicted to him and his constant source of sex and power and beauty and we’re both—all—devoted to doing anything he asks of us.
I think he was also right about another aspect of being in his world, which is I’m starting to realize my own enhancements, albeit very, very subtle when compared to his.
For one thing, my dick is constantly tingling. Not hard, exactly, but aroused. There’s no stimulation taking place, either physical or emotional. I’m just always horny. Maybe that’s more for his benefit than my own. And when I come, I come a lot. Used to be that the first time was a nice big load and then every time after that, assuming no cool down time, I could still get off but the loads would decrease with every delivery.
Not anymore! It’s like ten or twelve good pumps of amazing, thick fountains every damned time! I can feel it building towards explosion, getting bigger and bigger until I can’t hold it back and I groan and grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut and fucking come like Old Faithful, almost screaming with ecstasy as my cock and balls manage to delivery yet another huge explosion of warm, thick, sticky cream all over… everywhere!
I’ve also never really been what you might call a gym guy. I mean, I can recognize and appreciate a man’s body and the time they’ve devoted to it, but I used to have more cerebral goals in life. I kept in shape, jogged, wanted to look good naked, but suddenly I feel this sort of… drive. This… pressure to lift weights. Pump iron. A compulsion to keep upping my goals and adding more weight and looking at my gains in the mirror and standing there looking at myself naked as my cock starts throbbing and those constant tingles turn to major throbbing stimulation and suddenly there I am, knees slightly bent, biceps flexed to full power, admiring my reflection while I stroke my hard-on until I’m exploding all over the mirror!
As a psychiatrist, I’m not sure if this is healthy or not. Admiring oneself, loving oneself is certainly intrinsic to one’s mental well-being, but getting off on yourself to the point that you’re orgasming all over your own reflection seems a bit conceited.
Just… a bit.
But I can’t seem to help myself. This drive to better myself, to grow my muscles, to feel my clothes fit tighter and run my hands across these new bigger muscular bulges that make my dick throb and drool just feels… so good. So fucking good.
25 mentions that I look better, and his compliment makes me almost cum right there. Feeling his gaze move across my naked body as he drinks in the sight of me only makes me want to get bigger. And better. And I’m starting to believe him when he says that swallowing his cum and slurping his sweat and swapping spit with him in one of our long, passionate, amazing make-out sessions is…doing something.
Something I like.
Something I want more of.
I’m a porn actor so I thought I’d seen everything.
Huge cocks. Huge balls. Huge muscles. Tight asses. Some of the dudes I get to fuck or be fucked by are handsome enough to be models. Black guys, white guys, Latino guys, Asian guys, I like ’em all. I guess when you fuck enough guys you start developing an aversion to prejudice—to prejudging a guy based on his looks or whatever. I’ve had some of the best fucks from smaller guys. And fat guys. Really, you can never tell how good someone fucks just by looking at them. Sometimes you can. Some guys just look like they can fuck, and then it turns out that yeah, they can. But sometimes you spot some quiet, shy bloke in a bar and he’s giving you the eye and there’s something about how he’s checking you out that you can just tell that this guy—there’s something special happening. And then, wow.
I love fucking. I love fucking in front of a camera, or an audience. I love fucking one guy or lots of guys. I love fucking and I love getting fucked. I discovered pretty early on in life that I was good at it, too. That, like being musical or being able to write or playing a sport, fucking can be a natural talent you can train for and hone and practice until you get to stand up on the Olympic podium and be the best in the world at something.
Now, I’d never say I was the best fuck in the world or the best fucker or whatever. But I’m really good at it.
Like, really, really good.
And I’m also constantly horny. I’m horny right now, in case you wanted to fuck. And I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you good. I’m really excellent at fucking. I mean, I’m an expert! I fuck for a living.
I also fuck as a hobby. Also I fuck for fun, like a game or a sport. And I fuck when I’m bored, but more often I jerk off when I’m bored, just because it’s super handy and doesn’t require any kind of up-front prep work like conversation or figuring out if kissing is allowed.
I also fucking love kissing. Kissing is great.
If I have a problem, it’s that I’m kind of famous for fucking. You might have run across one of my pro gigs online, or seen one of my amateur stroke fests on Chaturbate. There are GIFs of me fucking on AdonisMale. Basically, you almost can’t not watch me fucking or getting fucked with only the most basic searches. As such, when I’m at the gym working out to make my glutes bigger or at a bar cruising the clientele or just walking down the sidewalk in some kind of slutty outfit (or, during Pride, wearing nothing at all), I’m constantly being approached to get fucked.
And, nine times out of ten, I’m up for it. Literally! Heh.
I’m proud of being a slut. Some people call me a whore since I’ll gladly take money for fucking, but I prefer to think of myself as a professional slut.
This is all a preamble to set up a recent experience I had that kind of blew my mind and blew my load in equal measure. So, I’m cruising around in a few sex apps—I tend to keep two or three open at once, just to widen my possible hook-ups—and then this one face pops up and he looks very handsome, which I like, and he has a funny bio, which I also like, because without a sense of humor sex can get pretty dull, but then I’m reading his stats and I’m all like, no fucking way.
Because this dude reports that he’s six-eight and weighs three hundred pounds and has a nine-inch dick and he doesn’t even have a name, just a number. 25.
I’m thinking what kind of total bullshit is this, who does he think he’s fooling? I actually—because I am something of an ass and enjoy trolling liars and calling them on their bullshit—I text this dude in the app and send him a pic of my dick, which is an actual nine-and-a-half inches when fully engaged, because porn star, and then he sends me a pic back and my eyes bulge out of my head like some fucking cartoon character because in this pic his cock is lying along this well-developed thigh, like Mr. Olympia level muscle, and it’s basically reaching towards his fucking knee!
Now, after my initial incredible lust fades I’m thinking, Photoshop. No way this is real. If this was real I’d have met him by now. Fuck, Id have fucked him by now, or insisted he fuck me. Cocks just don’t look like that when they’re that huge. Because his cock looked fucking perfect. Mouthwatering. His cock made my cock stand up and take notice.
So I had to call him on his bullshit. “Can you take it?” he texts me.
Can I take it? “I was fucking born to take it,” I text him, which obviously I accentuate with a sweaty peach emoji for good measure. So he invites me over to some dinky ass apartment near the campus downtown and now I’m like, seriously? You’re trying to tell me that man-sized cock lying on that bodybuilder leg belongs to some 20-year-old college dude?
But like I said, he had a handsome face and a funny profile and I was horny and he was ready so off I go, summoning a Lyft and racing across the city for a dubious piece of tail and possibly a fun story to tell on my next film set.
I don’t get nervous or whatever no matter what I’m walking into, because by now I’ve seen everything. Fetish videos and time spent with handsome dudes into Jesus Fuck knows what, and my dick and ass are ready to take on all comers.
So the car drops me off at this like building near the college campus, maybe it’s dorms but it looks a lot more like I imagine a prison looks, with these tiny windows all set out on the wall up to five stories filled up and, according to my imagination, with a buttload of horny, randy, well-hung college dudes all wanting me to suck and fuck their cocks, but today I’m focused on just one dude with what he thinks is a big ol’ hanging dick too big for a pro like me.
I like a challenge, though, and I’m actually kind of hoping this dude is outfitted with a piece of meat so big it’s gonna make me question my professionalism as a slut for hire. I’ve been with all the biggest dicks there are in the biz, and taken them all on with a grin and no gag reflex. Fuck, son, my ass had been used so often by gargantuan slabs of cock that I doubt anyone can fill me up anymore. I’m used to taking on two or three dicks at once, so even if this dude owns the biggest fucking prick on planet Earth, I’m pretty confident I can take it with ease.
So I climb the stairs to the fourth floor and there’s lotsa noise going on, dudes all hanging out in their rooms playing Call of Duty or Fortnite or whatever, other dudes smoking weed and sucking on beer bottles. I get a few glances as I pass by, because I wore my cut-off jeans that make my package stick out like I’ve stuffed three pairs of socks down there (I haven’t) and my ass is sticking out like a pair of beach balls too big for the trunk. Plus I’ve got on a half-shirt that barely hides my tits and shows off this six-pack I work on every fucking day, and there’s even a hint of pubes peeking up over the waistband of these Daisy Dukes.
I’m a slut, did I mention?
The dude said he was “up for anything” and in my book, ‘anything’ can encompass quite a lot of options. So I also brought my backpack filled with lots of toys to play with in case he needed some help or just wanted to have a butt plug in his back door vibrating against his prostate while I tongue and stroke and suck his nine-inches, assuming he wasn’t exaggerating.
As I approach his door this…feeling comes over me all the sudden. Like, it was so strong, so obvious, that I stopped dead in my tracks a few steps from his door because I feel, like, hot. In both ways. Physically hot and sexually hot. Like my skin is warm and my pits and my balls are sweaty and my mouth goes drive, and at the same time my dick starts just throbbing and growing like I was looking at an old Playgirl when the guys had hair all over and looked like porn stars in some prime 70s fuck flicks, with big porn ‘staches and big soft dicks smoking at me from those glossy pages. Not like these dudes now who shave every inch of their bodies and look all smooth and shit.
I’m talking I was feeling like a fucking man, capital M capital A capital N. It just washed over me and flooded my brain with lust and I was practically pumping my hips like I was some dog in heat, fucking anything that moved even if there wasn’t anything there.
This…feeling. This sensation. It gets stronger with every step I take approaching the door. Like teeth dragging along my hard on or some dude who knows what he’s doing getting hold of my nipples and going to fucking town. My asshole started tingling and my balls seized up and then sizzled like I had so much cum in ’em that if you breathed on ’em I’d pump a load of cream out of my throbbing dick head like a firehose.
Get what I’m saying here? I was fucking horned up!
I take a breath to try steadying myself and realize a drip of sweat is tickling its way down the crack of my ass and heating up my hole, almost like my body was already preparing to get fucked. I raised my hand to knock and even before my knuckled meet the wood I hear this voice from the other side say, “It’s open.”
And I mean, fuck me, that was a man’s voice. Deep and powerful. Even as soft as he said it, and even behind that door, it struck my cock and balls hard, made me suck in a breath and my nips started to tingle.
So I try to gather my few remaining shreds of chill and turn the handle with my sweaty hand and open the door.
And then I came in my little shorts, shooting a thick spray of cum out of my suddenly hard cock that dripped down my leg.
Can I tell you about this one dude who showed up?
So, he was cute and had a nice body and a huge dick which should have clued me in but it turns out he was like some famous porn star or whatever. Like, the kind of guy whose pic gets ripped off by other dudes insecure in their looks. And in my situation I can’t afford to be too picky. I mean, I basically need to line up a constant stream (heh) of dudes just to satisfy my libido. Fucking revolving door on my apartment lately. Place smells like cum and sweat and ass and balls. Haven’t managed to make my bed in a week, because as soon as the last guy leaves—walking funny because my dick just annihilated their hole—they pass the next guy in the hallway. Not gonna lie, it kind of turns me on to think of the glances being exchanged.
Then again, what doesn’t turn me on anymore?
Um, so, right, this guy turns up and when we were texting he was acting like I was the dude who should be honored to allow his cock in my butt, and then he gets a load of what I have to offer and he starts to realize that the two-week old profile pic I posted looks almost nothing like I do now. I mean, you can definitely tell we’re the same dude but now I’m like that dude went to a gym for a year and came back looking like if two pornstars had a baby and that baby grew up to own a 14-inch prick that stays hard all day long and has a face that any model would kill for and a body so strong and muscled and beautiful that even the most talented Greek sculptor would weep tears of infinite frustration that he could never match my face in his struggle to depict masculine perfection.
Sorry for the run-on sentence structure, and yeah, I’m boasting. Can you blame me?
He was butt naked. Or more accurately, cock naked. Because he was just standing there in that simple and somewhat sad looking little apartment with his head practically brushing the ceiling and it was kind of dark in there except for the early evening sun coming in through the window behind him so he was kind of in silhouette. But not so much in silhouette that it was abundantly and absolutely clear that not only was this dude not lying, or even boasting, but he may have been holding back on me!
First off, this dude, 25 or whatever, was fucking huge! Everywhere! Including that labeled nine-incher which on first impression I would have put at ten or eleven inches, because it looked huge even on this guy’s massive frame.
He said he was six-eight but he looked taller that even that. And then factor in that his shoulders were three feet wide narrowing down to an absurdly narrow waist and it was kind of amazing he didn’t just fall over from all that upper body mass.
Because also? Chest! Huge! Like, two massive round, perfect, gorgeous pectoral mountains coated in dark manly curls and capped with nipples like, actual, fucking, nipples. Like on a baby bottle! Like, fat chewable, amazing nipples my tongue wanted to lick. His arms hung to his side, and the combination of his biceps and triceps made it look like he had 28- or even 30-inch upper arms!
And it doesn’t stop there! Because I haven’t even mentioned his face yet, and even give the godly proportions of his body and the godly size of his cock, he owned a face that would make time stop in its tracks to just stare at it.
Handsome? Yes, but more than that. Like, I’m not sure I can even explain it, the effect that looking at his face had on me. If he was just handsome, if he was only gorgeous, I could look away from him and maintain my own semblance of sanity, but his face was just…perfect. The most beautiful face I have ever seen.
And then he smiled.
And I came again.
The sex was great, as one might expect when you get a professional porn actor and the world’s most perfectly enhanced man together, and afterwards he was mine like all the men I’ve been with, practically begging to stay overnight and I tell him I got, like, six other dudes in queue for today and maybe if he recovers sufficiently we’ll see what happens later and he’s got this look in his eyes I now recognize as being total devotion to me and my cock so I just smile and reach down and squeeze his hard-on (gotta admit that a guy who can get a hard-on that quick after coming has a name I’ll remember, whether it’s real or not) and tell him I’ll text him when I’m free.
Maybe I actually will. He was an excellent fuck.
But what I wanted to tell you was about this weird thing that happened when I was fucking him. Something I could feel coming—no pun intended—and couldn’t stop, and didn’t want to. It was like all the fucking we’d done, and we did a lot of fucking because apparently being a pornstar really helps with your stamina, I guess because you need to stay hard whether you’re on set fucking or not, but we fucked a whole lot for a long time and that, in itself, was unusual. Most guys, they’re overwhelmed or intimidated or something and they come really quickly.
I mean, I still get to fuck them and they still enjoy it, judging by their groans and repeatedly saying “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” but with this dude, the more I fucked him, the stronger this…feeling grew.
Can’t really explain it more than that. It was a new and unique sensation, something building inside me, growing bigger and stronger with every shove of my cock inside his ass. And then it grew to a crescendo, like reaching a pinnacle after a long climb or coming up for air after diving deeper than I ever have.
And then I pushed in all the way. I buried my cock in his ass, and his whole body tensed up and my whole body grew hot and started throbbing and vibrating and then I shot the load to end all loads inside his hole.
It fucking felt—and I’m not even exaggerating—like I was just letting go of something, that my dick was flooding his guts with a thick wave of cum that was emptying my balls all in one, long, heavy, constant dose. Like I was filling my balls with so much cum that once I started coming, I couldn’t stop.
It felt awesome, I’m not gonna lie. Like a super orgasm! Like an orgasm inside an orgasm! Like the best god damn feeling the world ever knew and it was all exploding inside him from my cock.
I kept coming and coming, not in spurts but in this long, unending jet and he was impaled on my dick and I was holding his ankles and buried to my balls, all fourteen inches inside him as I came and came and then I was finally done and I felt amazing. Not tapped out or tired or anything. In fact, I felt stronger and more energized than ever!
The dude was like a used condom on the end of my prick, though. For a minute I thought I broke him or something, like he was gonna black out. But then he smiled and sucked in several deep breaths and opened his eyes and just said, “Wow.”
That was all. “Wow.”
It felt nice inside his butt and I just stayed there for a few heartbeats, still feeling that sensation of power and strength and, like, dominance that was radiating out of me like I could see it, like I was glowing. Then I stepped away from him and extracted my glistening, throbbing, still iron-hard rod from his guts, the entire thick, veiny shaft and bulbous head coated in cum and dripping it to the carpet. I was still hard and horny, so I stroked myself after I let go of his legs, my incredible cock still delivering very agreeable vibrations of pure fuck power as my firm grip slid along its inches, testing its hardness and thickness, and looked down at him on his back on my rumpled sheets, his ass leaking a copious pool of cum even as his hole twitched and winked in an effort to keep my load inside him.
“Wow,” he said again. “That was fucking intense.”
Uh, ya think?
I’m gonna run out of both fuck apps and fuck app users pretty soon. And frankly, some guys fucking freak the fuck out when they turn up and get a load of me. And those that manage to retain a semblance of sanity in the face of perfect masculine beauty and a cock that never goes down and an ass so deep and warm and perfect, they practically nut all over my butt before they manage to even get their dick inside me.
Can I admit that I’m a tiny bit scared of what happens when I make myself public? Not, like, anyone can hide much anymore what with Twitter and Facebook and all these hook-ups advertising that they just had “the best fuck ever with the most handsome guy with the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” I had to turn off my own social networks because trying to manage all the friend requests and DMs was carving a big chunk of time out of my life when I could be using those hours fucking. Mean, even still, I’m just one guy.
Oh! Also, weirdly, I’m like reading voraciously and retaining everything I read! Hence the use of such high falootin’ words as ‘propensity’ and ‘voracious.’ Like, I don’t wanna become one of those people correcting everyone else’s grammar, but I’m biting my big, sexy tongue more than I ever used to.
Which, also, why should I care? But for some reason I do. It’s like my default position in life is now Polite Muscle Hunk. Like I’m overcompensating emotionally for my size and strength physically? Or maybe because I don’t have to try to be the biggest stud in the room. Maybe that’s an enhancement too for this modern world where being an asshole can get you elected, just being a nice guy with manners and a filthy mouth can get you pretty far.
I don’t remember much of what happened next. It was like I came twice and then suddenly I was naked and he was fucking my ass and kissing my lips and we never even cracked open my backpack of toys. Because I was his toy. I was going to do anything he wanted me to do.
And then there was the fucking, because lord above I have never been fucked like that. I mean, I’m a god damned porn star, you know? I’ve been well and truly fucked. I’ve been fucked hard and deep and fucked for hours.
But this was… something else. Something more. His skin felt like silk. His muscled felt like steel. His hands found every spot on my body that felt good, and then invented a few more new places to make me squeal with bliss and moan with lust. His mouth, his lips, his tongue, I mean, is there such a thing as a mouth artist? Because the things he did just with his mouth on my body—on my lips and nips and dick and hole and fucking everywhere—like, I would have been fully satisfied just if he used only his mouth,
But then there’s his cock and we enter an entirely new level of pleasure.
Now, I don’t know if you have experience being fucked by a really big cock or, like, one of those joke dildos that’s bigger than any man has a right to be, but it’s not exactly the most comfortable thing. As a porn star I’ve trained my ass to take on all comers, no problem. So I was expecting some more Big Dick Action which is where the dude with the dick has all the fun and I just need to grit my teeth, open my ass, and take it.
But this was…. He was…. His dick was…. Oh my fucking god.
And then something else happened. When he was fucking me. I mean, I am in fuck heaven. His dick in my ass was like, well, words fail me. Yes it was fucking, but it was so much more than that. So much bigger and better and more amazing and sexy.
And then he kept going.
And my body is like a pinball machine and he’s ringing all the bells and getting the high score and I’m giving him more balls to play with and there’s just not enough balls for him, he’s the god damned Pinball Wizard with his dick and then that…heat. Whatever it was. It’s starts building again. Like, everywhere.
Hotter and hotter.
And then I feel him blasting his load inside me and I want it all! I want to, like, gulp his cum with my ass or something. Like, I want to keep it all inside me, all his power and heat and fucking sexiness and he’s pushing it inside me, pumping it over and over and over, using my body like his fuck toy as he empties the world’s biggest cum dump inside me.
I didn’t want to leave him. I mean, on top of everything else, on top of being the best fuck I’ve ever experienced by about a million miles and the fact that he somehow came in my ass, like, a bucket of cum, gallons of cum, so much cum that he was still coming as he fucked me and the cum was pouring out of my ass and filling my guts and he still kept coming, I wanted to stay with him and be with him and do anything in the world, absolutely fucking anything for another minute in his presence.
Because you want to know the best part? Or maybe the worst part?
He was nice!
With that body and that cock and that face and that fuck… he was also a nice guy?
That’s just not fair.
You know that saying, “you only had one job?” Well, I’m that guy. At the company. Pharmaceuticals and drugs and shit. I just have one job and that’s maintaining records for all the volunteers we employ for various drug tests.
We do a lot of tests for some pretty serious things, and all those people are really good about doing the few little tasks we ask of them. You know, maintaining journals about how the drugs are affecting them, checking in and getting physicals to see how they’re progressing or not progressing, testing for unusual side effects. It’s important stuff.
But then there’s this one guy who won’t answer any of my messages. We use a web portal thing to maintain anonymity so I can’t call him or text him or anything, at least not directly. The web site contacts him when we request an update, but so far all I get is a big fat nothing. I’m practically begging him to report back so we have records of what’s going on, how the tests are going, yodda yodda yodda.
We don’t even have names to protect the test results, just numbers. And his number is starting to really annoy me.
25. That’s his case number. He’s in a test for a new male enhancement drug. No shit, these things aren’t as important as heart disease or cancer or shit like that, but they make the company a fuck ton of money so they’re pretty important. Consequently, I catch a lot more shit when the offices upstairs aren’t getting feedback on boner pills than I get for anything else. Totally true.
So my last resort is going out and seeing a volunteer in person if they aren’t responding any other way. It’s annoying as fuck because in the office I have everything I need to conduct tests on, like, growth numbers and, I’m not even fucking kidding, penis density. Like I have these calipers and I have to actually see if this guy’s dick is bigger or harder and record that shit.
And most of the guys I do this with are, um, how to put this delicately. Old as fuck? You know, old rich dudes who can’t get it up are a very rich environment for us, so most of the time the volunteers fit into that category and sizing up some wrinkled dude’s sad little cock isn’t what I imagined I’d be doing with my doctorate.
What makes it even more annoying is that, confidentially, I’d probably actually enjoy measuring 25’s dick density. I do all the volunteer pre-screening, too. We’re not a very big company, but we’re pretty well funded. Like I said, boner pills are big business. And this boner pill is supposed to be big shit, like it’s male enhancement but it goes farther and deeper into improving male, sort of, everything. Whatever that means. But we won’t know what that means without feedback!
Which is why we had to use younger than usual volunteers. The big brains upstairs weren’t sure after the rat and monkey tests how this stuff would work on human subjects. And for the most part there’s been no big shocks. One dude had accelerated heart rate, another dude started growing hair where he didn’t have hair before, but every other volunteer has been reporting back as asked except this 25 dude.
I mean, yeah, initially there was some weirdness about how the drug affected him. I didn’t see him personally since I don’t meet up with volunteers until after they’ve gotten their drug trials and been using them a while, but from what I hear he had an unusual initial reaction that worried some of the big brains. The notes on his file are kinda weird, to be sure. “Overt physical manifestation of accelerated enhancement.” “Unusual muscular development” “Recommend psych eval ASAP.” “May be a risk to the general public.” I mean, that sounds worrying for a boner pill, right?
I just need him to answer some questions! He’s really starting to piss me off.
I guess I need to allow the drug company to update my records. I’m not sure what they’ll do if I keep ignoring them. Probably stop paying me for volunteering. And frankly I need the money. Until or unless I start charging all these dudes for a fuck, I don’t really have another revenue source. I mean, I can’t really just show up at UPS where I’m a driver, knock on a few doors and start making all my customers explode cum in their pants, can I?
Or can I? Sounds kind of hot, actually.
And I can’t keep lying about being sick either. They’re liable to fire me any day now, and then how am I going to keep refilling my fridge to feed my ongoing growth?
Whomever is on the other end of these requests is starting to sound desperate. Maybe it’s this new streak of kindness I’m developing but I sort of feel bad for them, whoever they are. I mean, must be kind of a bummer to do nothing but read about people’s pains all day.
I imagine it’s not the most pleasant job in the world.
Maybe I should give them a treat?
Finally! That 25 dude answered my messages!
He’s still being really weird, asking if I can go to his place for the update instead of just coming back in and doing it like everyone else who’s not an asshole.
It makes me wonder if something has gone seriously wrong. Like, is he scared to go out in public? Maybe he has one of those hours-long boners except his is lasting for days and he’s embarrassed to wander around with a tent pitched in his shorts. And what was with that psych eval comment on his file? This drug is supposed to improve a guy’s confidence, make him feel all hot and amazing, but when you start fucking around with brain chemistry who knows what’ll happen? The brain is still a big mysterious organ that we don’t know much about. Did the company inadvertently turn something on it shouldn’t have? Improved some latent ability to the extent that it’s no longer latent, but intrinsic?
Whoa. Maybe this guy needs more help than I can give him? Wonder if I should contact that psychiatrist and see what the results were? The file includes his notes and it’s nothing unusual at all, said the worries were “overblown” and that Subject 25 shoes “no signs of being a danger to the public.”
But merely mentioning that there was a worry that this dude was dangerous should kinda raise some questions, shouldn’t it?
On the other hand, that’s all above my pay grade and if the big brains thought he was okay, that must have meant that he was okay.
And although it took him a while to reply, he was very apologetic about it. “Been busy” he said, “entertaining some guests.” Not sure what there is to do in this town, honestly. I know I haven’t been ‘entertained’ in quite a while.
Too long, if you ask me!
I wondered if I should get prepared for the interview, maybe put on some clothes or wash some of the cum off the walls. Then I thought, why bother? I’ll start tearing my way out of my clothes a few minutes after I manage to work this collection of hard muscle and thick cock into them, plus there’s always gonna be more cum.
Plus, I didn’t know anything at all about them. All my visitors thus far had been easily predictable—horny gay men. Horny men on their own are predictable enough, but horny gay men are even easier to categorize and please. This would be my first encounter with someone who wasn’t there for some choice ass and the biggest cock online. I decided to use this as my own test and they would be the volunteer who didn’t know what they were getting into.
I mean, why try to hide anything from them anyway? They said they needed to take measurements so they were going to see the goods sooner or later, so why not sooner. And if they were truly wondering about the side effects, well, I don’t think there’s more potent or obvious evidence than me standing before them in my birthday suit, now is there?
That’s a ton of evidence right off the bat. And by bat I mean my cock. Which is about as big as a bat.
I worked out a space in my busy fuck schedule for them, leaving some padding around the appointment in case things with a partner went a little longer than expected—not out of the ordinary—and did a little bit of tidying up so they had a place to sit down and opened up the windows to air out some of that thick, sensual fuck aroma that now seemed to integrate itself with everything I touched.
I actually did try to slip my dick into an XXL jockstrap, sort of folding it inside the sock when it was as soft as it can get, but then I looked at myself in the mirror and all the muscle and all that dick shoved inside a pouch too small to handle all that meat just made the horny monster start roaring and that jockstrap was being torn apart from the inside.
So much for avoiding the shock factor.
The place where 25 lived had an odd smell. Not unattractive like he was living next to a chemical plant, more like… more like someone had manufactured a room freshener that smelled like a locker room inside a used condom and was using it all over the building.
I heard a lot of moaning and groaning as I passed the apartments around his. It was the middle of the day or I swear what I heard was a lot of horny males all stroking themselves to explosion. And some of them weren’t alone, judging by the chorus of grunts and “fuck yeah”s coming from one apartment.
That smell, whatever it was, kept growing stronger until it was nearly making my eyes tear up and my nostrils sting, but even though it was hardly a scent one would call attractive, I found myself practically trying to gulp it inside my lungs. It felt good to smell it. Made me feel curiously aroused and made me almost swoon with its overt sensuality.
I knocked on his door and heard a voice on the other side.
And then my dick was exploding with cum.
“Mr… Twenty-five? I’m from… holy Christ on a bike!”
“And how are things at holy Christ on a bike?”
“I believe you’re here to…measure me?”
“Take some samples?”
“Ask some questions?”
“Do you want to sit down?”
“Maybe you should sit down.”
“You came in your pants. Take them off.”
“Take off your pants.”
“There you go. Feels better, doesn’t it? Having your cock out?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s okay. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t come. That’s a nice cock, by the way. Nice and thick. Mushroom head. Veiny. How it’s throbbing. Looks like you have another load building already. Nice. Are you going to come again now or can you hold on?”
“No need. It’s more or less expected. Here, let me help you out. No, look up here. At my face. That’s it. I find that some guys can manage longer if they’re not looking at my cock. No, look at my face. I know my cock is big and juicy looking, and believe me it feels good in your ass. Look up here. Good. Breathe? Oh yeah, that’s me, too. That stink. It’s the smell of pure masculine sex juice. Mmm, yeah. Like sniffing my big fat balls. Now, I’m going to say a word. Are your ears ringing? Sometimes that happens. Weird physical thing. Can you hear me? Good. I’m going to say a word and you’re going to come. I just wanted to prepare you as much as I could. You’ve already come once so this time should be easier, but not always. Not sure why, but some guys come really hard when I do this, and it’s 100% effective. Like Pavlov’s dog or something. You ready?”
“Just one word?
“Grab hold of your dick. It’s gonna start pumping all over the place.”
“Grab it. Hard.”
“Here we go. 3… 2… 1… Fuuuuuuuuuck.”
“I think it’s how I say it that really matters. Like, I can just say ‘fuck,’ and you’re fine, right? I mean, at least your cock isn’t jizzing up a storm. But if I really mean it, if I… add intention to the word, something happens. Want to feel it again?”
“Yes… and no.”
“Make up your mind.”
“I know, right? It’s pretty near unavoidable. Even works over the phone. I’m starting to think I can make a guy come by texting him…that word.”
“You keep apologizing for things you have no control over. It’s completely unnecessary.”
“25. I’m 25. And who might you be?”
“Uncommon name, but I like it.”
“No. Sorry. I mean, not… sorry? I mean, my name is Todd.”
“Not as interesting as Huge, but my name is a number so who am I to judge? Am I right?”
“You came. Twice.”
“No. I mean… to you!”
“Oh. This? The huge prick and the heavy balls and the massive muscles and a face I have been told would make a blind man come? I’d shrug but it might make the ceiling crack.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“And yet here it is, happening. I could pinch you if you like, though there’s a whole list of things I’d rather do. To you. With you.”
“How did you want to get started?”
“Did you want to measure things? I haven’t been measured lately so I’m kind of curious myself. I mean, one guy did volunteer to measure me. I guess it’s a fetish for some, how… big… everything is. Or in my case, how ludicrously huge. But he only got as far as my dick and passed out so…. But he’s fine. Gave him a cold shower, fed his throat my cock, sent him on his merry way!”
“Excellent. Should I just, like, stand here? And are you wanting a more relaxed measurement or fully, so to speak, engorged?”
“Um, big…gest? I guess? We need to qualify the extent of the developm….holy fuck!”
“You just… got bigger. A lot bigger! Everywhere!”
“Oh! No, this is just my muscles fully tensed. Everything, you know, pumped.”
“But, yeah, but, you just… flexed.”
“And got bigger.”
“I assume we’ll get to questions about curious side effects later? Or did you want to do that now? This is just how my body works now. When I want bigger muscle, I just flex. They’ll deflate eventually. About an hour usually, unless I’m fucking, and then I just stay big like this. Maybe it has to do with blood flow or something? You’re the doctor, here.”
“Let me just get your… measure… Jesus Christ.”
“Your thigh. Your thigh is 36 inches! Your thigh is bigger than my waist!”
“Is it? Cool!”
“But if your chart is correct, that’s a twelve-inch increase! In less than a month!”
“If you think those twelves inches are impressive, wait’ll you see my dick! Oh, you have seen it. You’re staring at it right now, in fact.”
“Does it… get bigger, too?”
“Oh, for sure. I’m not fully erect, which is unusual for me. Let me just… unless you wanted to?”
“It’s a bit unprofessional.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“Okay, let me, can I… um….”
“Knock yourself out, Todd. It’s just my cock. My magnificent, unbelievable, totally awesome cock.”
“A little faster?”
“It’s so big.”
“Can you… hold on.”
“What. It’s just spit.”
“But it feels…weird. And smells…amazing!”
“Mmm, I like when you play with the head. Use your thumb to… right. Just like that. Keep… mmm. Mmm hmm.”
“Is that all spit or precum?”
“Probably both, but the pre’s gonna start flowing pretty thickly soo…. Ooh, there it goes. Fuuuuck yeah.”
“Sorry. You came again didn’t you?”
“Just keep going. I’m almost there.”
“Almost? It gets bigger than this? This feels hard as iron!”
“Fuck, you give a great handjob, Todd. How’s your blowjob?”
“No? You sure? You don’t want to push those lips against the soft, warm head of my dick, stick out your tongue and lick the syrup off it? Pull the thick, warm, stiff length of its veiny shaft down your throat and try to swallow me whole?”
“There’s so much pre! It’s like…flowing down your….”
“Sssh, Todd. Less talking, more stroking. We’re nearly there. Very, very close.”
“I’ve never… this is impossible. How the fuck is this possible?”
“Oh, there’s this new male enhancement drug! It’s pretty awesome, right?”
“But no other male volun… nobody else has… this is….”
“Oh! Shit! Um… Jesus. Jesus! Jesus!”
“So, pretty decent then?”
“Fourteen and a half inches!”
“Hmm. I thought I’d be bigger.”
“Your penis has gained… it’s twice its original length!”
“And I’m still growing.”
“I know! Totally weird. Who could have guessed?”
“No one! No one could have guessed!”
“Do you want to…?”
“Measure the rest? Of me?”
“Oh. Oh! I though you meant….”
“What did you think I meant?”
“You thought I meant fucking?”
“Oh, we can fuck later, don’t worry. I’m afraid that if we fuck now you’ll be so overwhelmed by pleasure and the absolute unfiltered access to perfect sex you won’t be much good for the rest of your interview.”
“After all, I did promise. I made extra room for you in my fuck schedule and everything.”
“Your fuck… your fuck schedule?”
“Well, I can’t very well line up men to fuck all day without a schedule, can I?”
“I’m… you put me in your fuck schedule?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? I’m naked aren’t I? Need any more clues?”
“I can’t… your dick… that cock…”
“Oh! If that’s what you’re worried about you can fuck me. It’s all good. And since your dick hasn’t gone down since you walked in the door, even after a couple of very copious and impressive loads, that’s really saying something about your stamina, Todd. I’m usually lucky if I can get a guy to stick around to lick the cum off my ass.”
“I know, right? How rude!”
“No, I mean… never mind. Arms up, please?”
“Fifty… five. No… seven. No, sixty! Sixty-two centimeters! Twenty-four and one-quarter inches!”
“Do my waist next. The last dude I fucked wanted to bet that my arms were bigger around than my waist. Should I suck it in or…?”
“Just leave it… normal? Whatever the fuck normal is for you.”
“Fucking… eight pack.”
“Nothing. Um, sorry, but your waist is eighty-one centimet… thirty-two inches. Exactly.”
“But if I do this.”
“Oh, um. No, now your arms are bigger.”
“Yeah, but I think this looks weird.”
“Yeah, like, ‘where did your internal organs go?’”
“Your muscle control is… incredible.”
“Right? Watch this.”
“Oh my god!”
“Pec dance! One, two, cha cha cha! Three, four, cha cha cha!”
“Oh. Em. Gee.”
“Four, see? Because there’s actually four muscles that….”
“Pectoralis major and pectoralis minor.”
“Check out the big brain on Brad!”
“Pulp Fiction, I know.”
“Right but where Jules meant it sarcastically, I mean it sincerely.”
“Arms up again, please?”
“Chest time? Chest time. Should I inhale or… never mind. You’re done.”
“178 centimeters. I should just skip telling you the centimeters right? Seventy inches.”
“That’s huge, uh, 25. I should keep calling you 25?”
“That’s who I am now. That other guy is gone.”
“You do… seem to be a completely different man.”
“Completely awesome, you mean!”
“Impressive to be sure. Does this… also deflate?”
“If you keep rubbing it like that it won’t. Why, is it bothering you?”
“Good distracting or bad distracting?”
“Are you always this…?”
“Yes. Even before the enhancements. Look, I like what I like and I like fucking and I like you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know we haven’t gotten there, yet.”
“We haven’t even taken weight and height, yet.”
“It’s a side effect. I just… know when someone is cool.”
“Like, someone you’d like as a friend.”
“Okay, a friend you want to fuck.”
“Is it more about the friend part or the fuck part?”
“Depends. Sometimes it’s both. Sometimes it’s one or the other.”
“And you can just… tell.”
“Uh huh. You never get gut feelings?”
“I get them all the time. Only about people. Okay, only about guys. So far. But I’ve only been fucking guys so maybe women too? I should test that.”
“And you’re okay with that? With everything?”
“You read the psychiatrist’s report.”
“I read all the reports.”
“I was freaked out at first. Who wouldn’t be? I went in expecting to get more frequent and stronger boners and… look at me.”
“I know. I can tell by your erection.”
“Your dick is twice as big! Your upper arm is bigger than your fucking waist! You have an eight-pack!”
“And your erection seems like it just won’t go down!”
“As I said, you give an excellent hand job.”
“It’s like a… baseball bat.”
“Or a… steel rod.”
“A warm, slick, throbbing steel rod.”
“The part I mentioned about rubbing it being the opposite of making it go down applies to stroking as well. Oh, and grasping. Also breathing on it. Which, by the way, keep doing that.”
“Still hot, though.”
“Okay, can you… step on this please? And I can get your weight.”
“I’m not sure. This thing goes up to 180 kilos. Around 400 pounds.”
“It’s registering that you weigh zero kilos.”
“That does seem wrong, doesn’t it?”
“Which means you weigh more than 400 pounds.”
“Should I exercise more? Try to lose the belly fat?”
“Side effect. I’m extremely funny now, too.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
“More than 400 pounds?”
“Again, you’re now more than twice as heavy as you were before the enhancement drug.”
“I think a lot of that is in my butt.”
“What? I can’t see it without a mirror.”
“It’s… perfect. That. Is a perfect ass.”
“Oh. Thanks! And you haven’t even been inside it, yet.”
“There’s still time.”
“Now who’s being forward?”
“Gotta get your height. Can you step over here near the chair. You’re a little tall for my reach.”
“Sure. Oops! Sorry. Got some precum on you.”
“What? I just wanted to clean you up a bit.”
“By licking my neck?”
“That’s where you needed cleaning. Honest.”
“Where you licked me. It… tingles.”
“Huh. That is weird.”
“What was I doing again?”
“Measuring me. My height to be specific.”
“Right, right. Sorry. Things got fuzzy there.”
“I felt kind of…”
“What was I doing?”
“You were going to fuck me.”
“I was going to fuck you.”
“You said you wanted to stick your hard cock in my tight hole and pump me until you force the cum out of my balls.’”
“I’m going to take your shirt off now.”
“My shirt off.”
“And then you’re going to fuck me.”
“And then I’m going to fuck you.”
“If you insist.”
I decided to go outside.
Sure, it was probably going to cut into my fuck schedule, but I was growing too big for my apartment and I thought some sunshine and warm breezes would do me good.
I admit that there was some trepidation involved. After all, I’m a seven-foot-tall man with the muscles of a very dedicated bodybuilder with unparalleled aesthetics, the face of a model, and the dick of a horse. My chest gets into the room an hour before the rest of me. I’ve been using the fridge and the stove as weights. My dick gets so hard I could probably hammer nails with it.
These aren’t the usual statistics for dudes, and then I had to add to that the fact that the only clothing I could wear that I hadn’t managed to rip into shreds was a stretchy pair of workout shorts and an XXXL t-shirt that I ripped the sleeves from just to fit over my biceps and triceps, and it was still so small that the bottom half of my tits were hanging out.
I looked up the local nudity laws online, both out of curiosity and out of necessity. I could still find clothes at this point, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that my male enhancements weren’t done enhancing me and at some point, ordinary clothes would become something of an impossibility.
The laws are kind of stupid, and also very specific. Women can’t show their tits but men can. Men can be naked from the waist down only if they’re not aroused, which one presumes to mean that you can be floppy all you want, but don’t spring a stiffy or Mr. Policeman will get involved. Since my own cock was now more erect than it wasn’t, and I was always, always, always and forever aroused that seemed to strongly suggest that a naked 25 was going to be more of a specialized sighting than someone you see every day.
Kind of a pity, right?
I was big everywhere. Huge, really. Not to mention the fact that my spit or sweat can send a man into a sexual frenzy, my dick is constantly drooling a rich flood of precum, and there’s a cloud of heavy duty pheromones drifting around my body like a fog bank in San Francisco Bay.
But I couldn’t stay in my apartment forever, could I? And didn’t I owe it to the world at large to expose myself to it? Whether it was ready for me or not.
It was a glorious day, for what it’s worth. I stepped outside of my building, which had become a kind of constant compartmentalized orgy since I guess my sex stink was now saturating everything around me, finding its way under doors or through cracks and air conditioning ducts to infiltrate every other apartment in my building. It’s not like I can help how I smell.
Consider; after a typical day on my fuck schedule, my skin was coated in cum and spit and sweat, my own and every other dude’s I’ve been with. It was soaking into my skin and my body was seemingly transforming it into an even stronger form, combining and condensing all that male essence into a concentrated aroma of purified masculine sex my sweat glands and tongue and cock and balls would expel back into the world, just to draw in more guys to fuck and be fucked by.
Male enhancement, indeed!
I could smell it as well, of course, and it had the same effect on me as it had on every other man in proximity. Maybe its constancy lessened the effects on me, judging by the effect it had on others. Unless because I was the one producing all this fuck juice that I was immune to it, or partially immune. Then again, I was in a state of near constant arousal as it was, so I didn’t really need a harder push in absolute lustful carnality. I was always already there.
It felt powerfully invigorating, that pulsing, throbbing sensation of continuous and unabating sexual stimulation. It was a physical sensation, but it was also emotional and psychological. I could feel it like a heartbeat from inside me, this hard, heavy thudding of primal energy being discharged like I was a sex battery and everyone around me needed my energy. And that energy was unlimited, robust, and ceaselessly growing stronger.
Emotionally, I felt exhilarated and deeply sexual, as you would imagine, but there were also currents of pure lust, happiness, gratification, and a sense of incredible power. Sexual power. Like I wanted to fuck everyone and I could do it. Take on a whole platoon of muscular army men stripped naked and then move on to a ship of seamen. Full of semen.
Psychologically I was balancing my ego and id, my senses of self importance and instinctive impulses, delicately. Like I said, I wanted to fuck everyone—primal—and I knew I could—ego. But the superego, the part where I’m the nice guy who cares about you, that one seemed to be in charge. He was willing to allow the other two plenty of room, for sure, because if we all had something in common it was a love of fucking, but when I started to lose control over one or the other—if my id started getting too rough or perverted with someone for their liking, or my ego started acting like an asshole and getting demanding or condescending—Super(ego)man was always there to ground me and keep me, I guess, human?
Like I said, and much to my surprise, the nice guy inside me always wins.
Now that I was outside, it was being carried on the wind, my super-powered fuck stink, dissipating like smoke in a sex club and moving around me in a whirlwind of raw carnality. To put it simply, I was the embodiment of sex walking. A personification of masculine lust. The pure essence of constant fucking. A randy, raunchy, sexy tornado. Of sex.
I felt pretty good and my dick was showing off, stretching itself long and swelling thicker in those shorts, making its size and ability more obvious with every step of my powerfully muscled legs. I was “within the legal limits” so long as my schlong obeyed the tight restrictions of its captivity and didn’t rip its way into the open. It was warm so I started sweating, and these fresh rivulets of raw wet sex were working their way between every thick muscle mound like rivers on a landscape of naked brawn.
That also meant my sex stink was rich and thick, pouring off my body like a screaming invitation to fuck.
So it surely wasn’t surprising that I was attracting a lot of attention, more than even my state of near nakedness could explain. There weren’t actually a lot of people around in my neighborhood, a kind of run-down (affordable) section of town. But those who were, to a person, regardless of their age or sex or whatever other categories one might want to place people into. I was the flower and they were the bees.
Not completely unexpected of course, but the fact that everyone, without exception, seemed to succumb to my charms. Looks aren’t everything, and some people don’t appreciate big muscles, and a dick as huge as mine is can be considered by some to be absurd, but if anyone had their qualms about approaching me as a sexual conquest, nothing seemed to stop them.
I admit I hadn’t anticipated how…powerful I was. How strongly my many male enhancements would work on everyone. I mean, who would? Who takes a boner pill and thinks, “now I’m completely irresistible and everyone is going to want to fuck me or get fucked by me.”
Well, maybe every dude does? Those drug commercials are pretty convincing.
Something came over me.
That’s my only excuse. Something—I don’t know what it was but there was this… smell? Or, wait, more like a… feeling. Or a sensation. Whatever it was, and maybe it was all three, it was overwhelming.
And it felt good. Like, really, really good.
I literally stopped in my tracks and my… um. My dick. Felt funny. In a good way. It was like… you know when you’re young and you, like, climb a pole or something, something rubs against you in a new and amazing and unexpected way and your… dick. Feels funny? In a good way?
It was like that. I hadn’t felt that in years, decades, but I instantly remembered that sensation, the first time my cock was ever stimulated in a sexual way. And started growing because if it. Swelling in my shorts as I rubbed and climbed and rubbed that pole.
I even told my friends, my guy friends, about it. And they tried it. And felt it, too. And we giggled about it.
I didn’t giggle this time, I kind of felt breathless. And hot. And my heart sped up in my chest. And my dick got very, very hard.
There was a definite odor. Kind of rank. Like… sweat? I guess? But like the kind of sweat on someone’s body that makes you want to push your nose into their sweaty pits and suck it all inside your chest. The kind of rank that makes you lick your lips with hunger and your palms go sweaty and your butt hole tingles.
Or is that just me? The butt hole thing?
Anyway, I smelled that scent, that stink, and I looked around trying to identify the source, because it smelled like they were standing right next to me. It was so powerful. So… essential. Like they hadn’t showered and they’d just come from working out and they smelled strong and virile. That’s it! Virile! It’s smelled like pure masculine virility!
And that’s when I saw him, and I knew instantly, immediately, that it was him! I mean, he looked like that stink smelled. Like… just like raw… carnality. And he walked like he knew how to fuck, know what I mean? How some guys walk like their balls are too big for their pants and their cock is too powerful to control? And then I looked down and realized, holy fuck, that is literally true with this man! This god! And then I found my legs carrying me towards him, straight at him, and I couldn’t stop myself.
I saw him first, cause I was walking towards him. Or he was walking towards me. Either way, it was pretty clear that he was a big dude, like, massive. Huge. Didn’t know how big from that distance but with every step towards each other, he just kept getting bigger.
Then I could make out his face and I’m pretty sure I gasped out loud, because he was beautiful. And I mean that. Beautiful. Some men are handsome, you know, rugged. But he was beautiful. Clearly a man, with that heavy brow and strong jaw and all those muscles! All those muscles! But his face was beautiful. It was actually hard to look away from him, especially when our eyes met and he smiled.
Then the smell kicked in. Maybe the winds were blowing a different direction and they shifted suddenly, because when it hit me it hit hard. Like… ever been in the south? Like, Alabama or Oklahoma? Tornado season? When it’s so hot and humid that walking outside is like putting on a wet woolen coat? Like walking from an air conditioned hotel lobby out into that thick, wet heat?
It was like that. Only it also had an odor to it, that wet heat slamming into me. Like I could taste it on my lips and lick it off with my tongue. This strong, sexual tang. Like something you wouldn’t necessarily recognize until it was slapping you in the face.
Like his huge cock.
Huge! Fucking! Cock!
I thought his muscles were big—and, no shit—they are—but that cock! I mean, after you’ve seen that cock how are you going to be satisfied with any other man’s cock? It was colossal! Stupendous! Godlike! It was the cock god owns, and if it’s not it should be.
So I stopped, then. And he keeps walking. And he’s huge, like I said, but even huger up close. And that voluptuous smell and that sticky wet heat surrounds us.
And I lost it.
He was already fucking someone when I saw him. Had this dude grabbing a light pole, bent over, pants around his ankles, and he was shoving this, like, baseball bat inside this smaller guy’s ass.
I say ‘smaller guy’ but we were all smaller compared to him. The dude he was fucking looked positively giddy, or dizzy. The big dude was holding him by his hips and slamming into him with hard, deep thrusts, burying his whole, thick cock inside. How that small guy was taking it and evidently enjoying it defied common sense.
The big dude had hauled his cock out of these, like, shorts. Really tight and clingy. Like, they were still holding onto his butt like a second skin, and the front was tucked under his cock and balls. His balls were as huge as his dick. Bull balls. Like he had baseballs for… balls. And his skin was glistening with sweat and there was like sweat clinging to the hair all over his massive pecs, glittering like diamonds in the sun as he fucked this other guy.
And at first I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Because obviously it’s not every day you see two people fucking on the street. And it’s not any day that it’s two dudes, and one dude looks like he just won Mr. Olympia, or actually like he walked onto the Mr. Olympia stage to show how tiny Mr. Olympia is in comparison. So, yeah, I started watching them.
Then suddenly, the big dude looks over and smiles and even waves at me! He’s fucking this guy in the ass with a cock that would make a horse feel inadequate and then he’s looking at me and waving. And then he’s waving me over! He’s like…beckoning me.
I’ll admit at first I felt scared. What did he want me for? He was already fucking a guy!
But then there was this smell. Kind of a stink. A really sweaty smell. Very… manly. And my dick started making all my decisions for me. Like I couldn’t resist. Like I was drawn into what was happening directly, like a fish on a hook.
I couldn’t stop myself. And I didn’t really want to.
In that moment, in that instant, all I wanted to do was fuck.
There were about a half-dozen guys with me after only a couple of minutes outside. I hardly got a block from my place when the first dude I encountered comes up, pulls my cock out of my drawers—which frankly I was happy about because it was starting to hurt being all cramped up in there—and drops his pants and bends over.
So, like, okay, I think I get what you want, if this is like some subtle clue, dropping trou and shoving your hole in my face. So I smiled, grabbed his hips, and started easing my way inside his ass.
He was fucking tight! I wondered if he’d even ever done this before! Not, like, just every ass can take me on, of course. I’m sporting a fuck hammer of tremendous proportions, a tool designed and built for pros, know what I mean? But he was practically begging for me to fuck him, so I drooled a long thread of spit on the head of my prick, spread it around with my palm, and kissed the tip against his pink pucker.
“You sure, bro?” I asked him. He kind of… shuddered when I spoke to him. Like he was a starving man seeing a plate of steak and potatoes or something.
“Puh… please. Please. Fuck me.”
“Okay, bro. Happy to oblige.”
I pushed the tip against him and he kind of sighed. Then his hole, like, opened up for me. Almost as soon as I pressed my spit-soaked cock head against his hole, it was like he was opening up to welcome me in. Never seen anything like it before. So in I go, pushing in a couple of thick inches, trying to be careful, you know, don’t want to rip him open or anything.
And then his ass sort of…swallowed me. I swear to fucking god that once I had gained entrance to his back door, it swung wide open and sucked my cock inside. Sh-loop!
Felt fucking awesome, to tell the truth. All warm and wet and tight. So I started fucking him, then, pumping my giant dick in and out and this dude is holding onto a lamppost for dear life because my cock is like half the length of his torso, you know? And I’m not, like, teasing him with a few inches or something, I’m fucking him balls deep, in and out, his butt making these slick, sucking sounds like he didn’t want me to leave.
So I’m going at it, you know, feeling pretty good and I feel these hands—fingers—on my nips. So, my nipples are really sensitive now, like crazy responsive, and these hands—I can tell they belong to a dude but that’s about all—these hands are twisting and plucking and teasing them without mercy, fucking going to town on my tits, and this, in turn, amps up my fucks because now my cock is practically going off like an alarm bell, like just throbbing intensely with these, like, have waves of pleasure.
So, you know, I groan and shit and my head goes back and then there’s another set of hand finding their way up my legs, stroking my skin, rubbing my muscles, up and down and down and up, and I’m think how great this feels and then more hands find my arms and my shoulders and my ass and now, like, a dozen hands are all over my big body, just feeling me up outside on the sidewalk a block from my apartment.
At this point those nipple hands start stripping the shirt from my upper body and some of the hands on my legs and ass are teaming up, trying to rip my shorts off. Not an easy duty by any means, that stretchy material doesn’t rip easily but they are determined.
So I am fucking this guy, spritzing showers of pre all over his butt and all over my pubes and balls while these other people are trying to strip me naked to get full access to everything I can offer.
I’m not gay. Well, not usually. But I wanted him to fuck me. It was all I could think of, all I could imagine. My brain sort of focused in on that singular goal and nothing else mattered.
Even seeing how big he was, how big his prick was, didn’t deter me from my goal. I mean, I’ve never even considered getting my butt fucked before! I’m kind of a vanilla guy, I like missionary and I like pussy. I think I’m pretty good at eating pussy too. But none of that entered my lizard brain. Everything else, every desire or need or lustful thought, all turned towards getting that dick into my ass.
I think he could tell what I was experiencing, or maybe it was the fact that even before I got to him I was unzipping my pants and frantically shoving them down my legs.
Weirdest thing is that I knew exactly what I was doing. It wasn’t like I lost control or was doing something against my will, I really, truly wanted this. Like I knew it would feel amazing, better than anything, better than any sex I ever had.
Not that I’m like some Romeo or something. I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I don’t fuck around as a rule. I don’t even watch porn!
But I wanted this huge, beautiful, sexy dude to shove his cock inside my ass and fuck me silly. And I knew he could do it, and I knew it would feel amazing.
He looked down at me—Jesus, this dude was huge!—and opened his soft, warm, beautiful lips and asked, “Wanna fuck?”
Swear to god, the word ‘fuck,’ when he said it, when it left those lips, it echoed and reverberated and practically knocked me over. It had some weird power. I know that sounds crazy but I could… feel it. Not just hear it but actually feel it, like it struck me in the chest and entered my body and branched out to my arms and legs and shoved inside my dick and filled up my balls and made my belly warm and my ears ring.
I said “Yes,” because it was the only thing I wanted. The only thing.
And then he pushed himself inside me and I was lost in a delirium of pure erotic bliss.
He was fucking that dude and the dude looked like he was drunk or high or something. Like he’s left his body behind and he was floating, and that big dude was just like shoving the biggest cock I have ever seen in my life in and out of this little dude’s ass like he was a toy or something. Like the big dude just made the small dude his Fleshlight and he grabbed his hips and the small dude was holding on for dear life as that huge, amazing, gorgeous cock slid in and out of him, glistening with spit and pre and ass juices.
Standing this close, watching them, that weird stink and heat were nearly unbearable. Like, overwhelming. I realized that it had to be coming off this giant dude’s body. Like he was sweating out sex or something, because now that it was filling my nostrils and and lungs, I realized what the smell was.
Pure sex. The smell of raw, unfiltered, 100% pure sex. Colognes and perfumes try to copy that scent but he was pumping it out like a smokestack, and it felt warm and wet and irresistible.
I reached around his wide back and found his nipples. Now, mine are pretty sensitive, so I hoped his were too. I fucking love watching a guy play with his own nipples. Guys like me, guys whose nipples are working models, we can get fucking hard as a rock and I’ve even known guys who could achieve orgasm just playing with their own nipples.
So I moved my hands across the unbelievable girth of his massive pecs, digging my fingers into the thick, soft carpet of manly fur that grew more lush and full as I neared the inches-deep cleavage, exploring all over those balloons of brawn until I found them, two prominent, absurdly large nips poking up through the fur.
And I latched on and started having fun with them. Rubbing my thumbs against them. Pinching them. Swirling my fingertips around and around and around the pencil eraser nubs until I head him groan and loll his head back in a familiar way and I knew what he was feeling, I knew he was one of the lucky ones like me, and then I felt this, like, surge of heat wash over me, like this sudden wave of raw sex or something, and my dick got rock hard and I started pumping a thick, warm load into my shorts.
I’m into legs. Some guys like arms, some guys like chests, some guys want a set of defined abs to flex and swell, but I like legs. And asses. They speak power. This guy’s legs shouted power. Every single muscle mass was keenly defined. As he fucked this other guy, I watched in desire and fascination as those muscles flexed and swelled, almost like a dance beneath his skin.
I put my hands against his legs and this thrill of erotic power seemed to pass through my arms and zero in on my cock and balls. Like he was storing up a kind of sexual power and once I touched him, he had to discharge it into me or something.
It felt real! I’m sure I was imagining its but I swear to fucking god that once I placed the palms of my hands against his flesh and muscles, some weird force or energy was thrust into me through that contact. I leaned in and kissed the back of his thighs. I licked his calves. I traced the separation between each one of his massive leg muscles with my fingers and moved my hands over that huge bubble butt, feeling it felt and tense and release with every thrust of his cock inside that other dude’s ass.
It was like he was passing the experience of fucking that smaller man into my body or something. Like I was fucking him, too, feeling the intense sensation of my cock being squeezed inside that ass, of the head being teased and rubbed, of my balls swelling with cum and growing heavier and heavier.
Like we were both fucking him, and I could feel a load of intense power, a huge load of thick, creamy, powerful cum, swelling larger and larger with every thrust.
I have to admit, being worshiped feels amazing!
All these hands all over my body, all these lips kissing me, all these fingers playing with my nipples and exploring my hole. I just kept fucking that one dude because it felt… right. Or something. Like this was what I was supposed to do, concentrate my fuck power on one guy and allow everyone else to do whatever they wanted to with me.
I started out feeling a little bad about being so big. So tall. Like, trying to kiss me was a bit challenging while I was fucking that dude’s amazing ass, but there were lots of lips willing to try.
I wanted to accommodate everyone’s desires and needs. I mean, sure, I was in charge, no doubt about that. I could feel this incredibly powerful sense of self, not ego exactly but like I was literally the center of attention but I was sending out these, like, spokes of power, male power, sex power, fuck power, into the people trying so hard to please me.
We were sharing something. I mean, sure, I was the focal point of all of it. But at the same time I felt like no matter how many people were involved in whatever we were doing on that hot sidewalk in the middle of nowhere, stripped naked in every sense, physically, sexually, emotionally, we were like one big fuck. Everything started to, like, flow. To swell and grow. And that these spokes or whatever that connected us were also growing stronger, and multiplying, and we were all fucking, and all getting fucked, and all having our holes probed and our nipples teased and our muscles rubbed and our skin stroked.
Like all of us were one, but we were also ourselves.
Almost, like, spiritual or something, you know?
Like, the most amazing fuck I ever experienced.
And something was coming. Something else. Something powerful.
Building and building, like the load in my balls, like the power in my muscles, like the size of my cock, like the pleasure I was feeling over every fucking inch of my naked body.
Building and building.
That fuck stink was overwhelming. It felt like I was being bathed in it. It was washing over my skin, hot and wet, sinking into my flesh and driving me bat shit.
I’d never been so horny in my life. Uncontrollably horny, like I could fuck a… like… army or something. Like I could walk into a bar and fuck everyone in there at the same time. Like I was made of cock.
I was losing control. I was losing my sense of who I was. I was just made of cock. Made of sex. Made of sweat and muscle and cum and fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking.
I had to come. I had to.
It felt so good. He felt so good. Inside me. Part of me. Completing me. I was made for this. It’s all I want to do.
I was close. I had that same feeling I had with the porn star dude, only stronger. Like, A LOT stronger. Overwhelming me. Becoming all that I was, all my power and strength swelling in my balls, making my dick swell and throb, making my muscles sing and bulge. It was gonna happen again. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to, and I fucking did NOT want to.
He swelled inside me. I could feel him growing bigger, inches longer, inches thicker, the biggest cock in the world was fucking my ass and I was drowning in sexual bliss, gritting my teeth to stop from screaming in extreme ecstasy. And then….
And then, something happened to me. Something changed. Something clicked. And I started coming, blasting a load thicker and stronger than anything I had ever managed before. I had basically been coming non-stop since getting enhanced back at that lab, but this was different. No, not different … better. More, more everything.
I was exploding with cum. Just blasting it out of my dick, emptying my heavy, swollen balls, pumping a gushing explosive load of hot, thick, creamy cum and I looked down and watched this dude’s clothes start to shrink.
That’s what it looked like at first. But then I released that his clothes weren’t shrinking, the dude was growing! I reached down and grabbed his shoulders and shoved myself inside him to the hilt of my exploding prick and felt, actually felt his muscles growing.
And I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to, but even if I did, I was caught in some kind of massive sensation of overwhelming, like, manliness. I felt strong, impossibly strong, and huge and powerful and I kept coming and coming and coming.
I could feel him start pumping his load inside me like a warm rush that washed over my whole body. I’d never experienced anything like that. I could feel him coming inside me, almost picture it in my head, the mouth of his massive cock fountaining a constant flood of cum and I drank it all up, not wanting to give up a drop of what he was delivering.
Then that heat, the sensation of sex spreading along my arms and legs and into my fingers and across my chest and around my asshole and balls and cock went up, and up, and up, and everything felt good, like being plunged into a warm bath, and then into a hot sauna, and the heat kept getting hotter and hotter and I heard something, rips or something, and my clothes were so fucking tight.
He was growing. Just slowly… growing. I could feel his shoulders swelling larger under my hands, literally feel the muscle swelling. Small tears appeared along the seams of his shirt and grew slowly wider as his body continued to grow.
I was still coming! How much cum did I have?!? This was insane and impossible! No way could I be doing this, no way was this actually happening.
But it was. I could see it. I could feel it. And after a few seconds, I felt like I was in control of it, that I wanted this, I wanted to make him bigger, push my power inside him, share my enhanced potential with him, so I just kept coming, just kept pushing, just kept making him grow.
I started coming. I couldn’t help it. It was like my body was overwhelmed with sex and power and strength and my cock, hard as steel, just started pushing a thick load from my own balls. And once I started, it was like a dam broke or something.
He came inside me and I came just as powerfully, I groaned with pleasure. I sighed with bliss. I reached back and found his massive, round ass and pulled him against me, wanting him to unload every drop inside me so this feeling, this sensation of masculine power and muscular growth and ultimate sexual release would keep on going and going and going.
I was still playing with the big dude’s nipples when this, like, massive wave of wet heat struck me, as if I had walked into a fucking sauna. But it wasn’t a sauna, it was him! The big dude! And I almost fainted from the intensity of the feeling.
Because it was just raw sex. It was the most potent and powerful sexual sensation I ever felt, and it erupted from him, from his skin and his muscles, and bathed me in a hot wet wind of pure, perfect, overwhelming sex.
The dude he was fucking started coming, too. I could hardly control myself. I felt hot and hard as a rock and suddenly I was coming too! Exploding! My fucking balls felt like they were being squeezed tightly to force all my cum out of my hard-on, and I was powerless to stop it.
Not that I would have if I could have. Fuck, it felt amazing!
Now, don’t ask me why and I’ve never even considered doing this before, but before I knew what I was doing I was prying his massive glutes apart, exposing his tight, pink, gorgeous butt hole, leaning in, and licking him. Literally licking his butt hole. Tasting his taint and his sweat and that intense, musky, masculine scent was so strong I nearly passed out.
But he tasted good. So I kept doing it.
It felt so good. Everything did. Being worshipped, hands all over my skin, feeling my muscles, my nipples being twisted and tongued, my hole being rimmed, my dick inside this dude’s tight ass exploding fat pumps of cum over and over and over.
It was like… it was perfect. Me fucking this dude, coming and coming and coming, feeling his body swelling with power, and then I was doing it too!
I had this… feeling. That I wanted to get bigger. Bigger than I already was. Bigger muscles. Bigger cock. Bigger ass. Bigger balls. I wanted to be able to make all these dudes worshipping me to understand what I was, what I could do with them, and for them, just like the dude I was fucking.
And in the same minute, almost in the same moment, I decide to get bigger. To grow stronger.
I looked down, smiling, as my chest began to swell forward. My pecs were growing. The muscle was swelling larger right before my eyes.
I closed my eyes and licked my lips and kept coming and growing and coming and growing.
Then there was someone licking my asshole! Someone rimming me, pulling my ass open and sticking a warm, wet tongue inside me and I really lost it, then. If I had any control over what was happening, I didn’t any more. I was in sexual overload, so fucking horny and aroused that it was more than I could take. I had to let it out, share it, make it real.
All the limits were gone.
His dick inside me! It was massive! It was growing. Going deeper, stretching me wider, still pumping cum inside me. His cock was like a baseball bat! Like a fucking telephone pole! But I loved it! I needed it! It felt like… I don’t even have the words! Power was being shoved inside me by his cock. Power and strength and sex! More and more and more! Fuck! Fuck!
The big dude—sorry, the even bigger dude was groaning like a bear. In my mouth, I felt his nipple getting bigger. Not like it was getting erect, it was literally getting bigger, the rubbery nub swelling between my lips, pushing inside my mouth, rubbing itself against my tongue.
Everything was getting bigger. His chest was pushing outwards towards me, its hugeness trying to stretch my grip wider. His entire muscular and massive body swelled even larger with muscle and grew taller and wider by the inch. It was happening slowly, but continually, like he was being inflated or something.
Was he, like, an alien maybe? Changing right there on the street, his body becoming even bigger and stronger, that strong smell of his masculine musk stinging my nostrils and making my balls buzz and my cock throb.
Was it seconds or minutes? Or hours? I lost track of everything, locked inside that warm, wet embrace of perfect and pure masculine energy, both draining me and energizing me.
Fuck it felt good. Growing. Making the other dude grow. That tongue in my ass. My dick in that ass. A mouth latched onto one of my nips, sucking and tonguing me and I felt like I was coming from my nipples, like it was joining in with the sensation of pumping cum up the fat inches of my monster cock. That same sensation of orgasmic bliss was now happening on my nipple.
Make that nipples! I looked down and my other nipple, the one not inside the hungry dude’s mouth, was shooting, like, milk! Or cum! It was amazing! Fuck! I was triple-coming now! Fuck~
Something warm and wet struck my face and I opened my eyes as I sucked his tit and a second splash occurred, this one inside my mouth! Something thick and warm and sweet was spraying against the back of my throat and I swallowed it greedily.
So sweet, so warm. Another gush joined the first. The milk from his massive nipples was spraying inside me and outside me, soaking my shirt and filling my gut.
I sucked harder. I wanted more.
Ah, fuck. No way I could ever go back to what I was before. This was all just too fucking good. Everything felt so fucking good. My dick was growing, my muscles too. I could feel it, like I was getting heavier and bigger and stronger, like my body was sucking sex straight out of the air and making it into muscle and cock and cum.
I wasn’t scared or worried or anything like that. I was growing. Getting bigger. Getting stronger. Getting sexier. How was it possible? I didn’t really care, I just wanted more. More and more and more.
I wondered what I looked like now. I wondered how tall I was, and how much I weighed. That poor little dude from the labs is gonna be so pissed. Only a day later and all his measurements are meaningless.
I was still coming, too! So much cum! It was splashing out of his ass and splattering against me, against my crotch and my legs, pooling around my feet on the ground. My tits were shooting milk or whatever it was all over the place, squirting fat fountains of it like I was being milked, like a fucking cow or something, and it was warm and smelled like I did, like whatever that strong, sexy, musky scent was that surrounded me like a fog bank of warm, pure sex.
And I was still coming!
Would I ever stop? Maybe I just needed to decide to stop. Or maybe I had to drag myself away from these men who were all worshiping my ass and my chest and my dick. Maybe it was all this pleasure and attention that was feeding my growth, making me stronger and bigger and even sexier than before.
If that was the case, I wasn’t going to make it stop.
| new dis, who phone?
When my jacket pocket buzzed during a meeting, signaling me that I had a new text message, I glanced at the number but didn’t recognize it so I didn’t bother looking further. Once the meeting was over, I forgot about it until lunch, when out of boredom I was looking at my phone again and there was that mystery message, a comical mangling of the usual meme, along with an accompanying photo.
If I didn’t recognize the number, I instantly recognized the face—or, part of a face—in the selfie.
It was 25’s smile and part of his regal, masculine nose. His full, kissable lips were surrounded with short whiskers, and I could see his thick, muscular neck and one of his shoulders, bulging with clearly defined lobes of brawn. He was holding the phone over his head, and the image was slightly blurry.
Beyond that partial face, there was—I guess you would have to say “a sea of men.”
They were all in various states of undress. Some of them were wet with perspiration. Some were looking into the camera with their own bright smiles, those who weren’t seemed preoccupied with 25’s body, kissing him, stroking him, one guy had his lips attached to one of 25’s large, pliable nipples mounted on his absurdly majestic and furry chest. There was at least a dozen other men in the image, and it was pretty evident that they were in a good, old-fashioned orgy.
I had to smile at his audacity. It was difficult to tell where he was, except that he wasn’t at home, which was unusual. Taking on all these men at once was, I guess, to be expected of a man as enhanced as he was. I knew firsthand how powerful and unyielding his libido could be, and it was only growing more powerful and demanding with each passing day.
I looked at the location data attached to the message and brought up Google Maps to see where all this sexual mayhem was taking place. Surprisingly—or perhaps not—he was at a gym. It was near his apartment and probably the one he usually frequented. But a cold rush of fear came over me when I realized that he was having an orgy in a public place with many, many men.
My body had been upgraded significantly owing to my time spent with 25 over the past days and weeks. I could hide it under my clothes, since my developments were more like refinements than enhancements. My muscles weren’t a lot larger, but they were more well developed, harder, and stronger. My balls were in a near-constant state of production, now, making an hourly visit to the men’s room more or less a requirement just to empty them.
And when I did so, my dick would swell so thick and long that it might as well be a third leg. Certainly nothing approaching 25’s gargantuan dimensions, but large enough now that I’d need to explain why the bulge in my shorts was now leading down my thigh towards my knee and looked like I was smuggling a salami to work.
Luckily, my facial upgrades were more subtle. The kind of thing only someone who looked at my face every day in a mirror would notice. My skin was clearer. My eyes were brighter. My chin was more prominent, and my brow was heavier. In essence, and like everything else, the masculine elements of my face were being turned up a notch.
Oh! And I had abs. Without even trying. My muscles weren’t swelling by the inch, like 25’s amazing and massive cables of raw brawn, almost like magic, but they were more defined and definitely stronger.
But always there in the back of my head was a little screaming voice warning me that I should tell someone what was happening with 25. It was my job, after all, to monitor our volunteers. But so far, only me and that somewhat frenzied young man in IT who was supposed to put in the vital statistic on all our lucky men were any wiser.
He and I shared a secret, and part of that was that he and I frequently met during those hourly ball-draining exercises for some mutually beneficial attention.
The dude can really suck a cock, is what I’m saying.
Another reason I was so hesitant to blow the whistle on this situation—apart from the fact that I would definitely be fired—was that I wanted to continue experiencing these enhancements. It felt good. Sex was great. My dick was like this heavy, sexy burden in my shorts, constantly throbbing and twitching with desire and need. And my new friend in research readily agreed.
I looked at the picture again and determined that I had to go check out what our friend the overly enhanced man was up to at that gym with all those sweaty men.
My hungry dick throbbed happily in response to this decision.
The gym was large, more like a warehouse than a gym. Nowadays you can find a gym in a strip mall, so this was definitely old school. I pulled in to the parking lot, noting that it was less than half full which made sense, this being the middle of the workweek and most dudes are either working out before or after work hours.
So these were probably the hardcore iron heads, the kind of dudes who spent several days a week and several hours every day perfecting their bodies and building their muscles. Instagram thirst traps and ego-driven meatheads who woke up, ate breakfast, worked out, ate lunch, worked out, ate dinner, and worked out again.
I absently put my hand on my six-pack and smiled, happy that I was going to continue growing my own muscle just by benefit of being in 25’s stable of constant dudes. I locked my Lexus and walked towards the building, trying hard not to worry about what I would find inside it.
Once I opened the front doors, though, all hope was lost.
There was that familiar scent—only it was much stronger than a mere scent. It was thick and redolent, a heavy sense of raw sex hanging in the air, more than a mere cologne of muscle and cum, it had an almost physical presence that coated my skin and enflamed my nostrils and made my already semi-hard prick start to swell in earnest. I had to gasp and nearly stumbled under the sudden, unexpected onslaught of 25’s intense funky musk. I was used to it by now, or so I thought. This was another level of pheromone and it was enflaming my arousal like a gasoline fire.
I paused to try to gather my senses, leaning against a wall to catch my breath and steady myself. 25 could certainly take care of himself, but I’m not sure he understands the ferocity of his sexual prowess. His body is an F1 racer, now, tuned to go very, very fast, and we lived in the middle of a rush hour freeway. We were all going 15 miles-per-hour while 25 had his engines revved into the red and burning rubber.
I looked around and all I saw were absurdly muscular male bodies. A meathead gym, then, populated with guys who eat, breathed, and thought about nothing except getting bigger, lifting more, training harder. And without exception, all these well-trained, brawny specimens of manhood were naked or as-good-as.
Uncharacteristically, and alarmingly, none of them were working out. They weren’t really doing anything I could readily see. The space was quiet other than the sound of grunts and groans and sighs, not unlike what one might hear listening to a porn video’s soundtrack minus the terrible electronic music and only punctuated by the sound of men having sex.
Not that they were dead, but they certainly looked worn out. Some were just lying on the rubber mats on the floor, breathing deep and smiling, often cupping their balls or calmly stroking and petting their dicks. Others leaned against walls or against each other. I knelt down next to one of them near me, a huge and well-developed Latino man with thick eyebrows and even thicker muscles. His eyes were closed and he was breathing slow. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fucking perfect,” he said, smiling without opening his eyes. “I can still feel it.”
If he was referring to the sensation of 25’s ample prick invading his ass, I could relate. It had been two days since I’d been with him and I could still feel it, too, or more accurately I could feel its absence, like a missing limb. Getting fucked by 25 was like feeling complete, like there was a part of you that had been missing and now you found it buried up your behind. Recovering after a match with 25 was like an amateur going up against an Olympic gold medalist.
He was smiling and caressing his own body, running his hands all over the bulging muscle that was pumped to capacity under his caramel-colored skin. Veins had popped up everywhere and even though he wasn’t currently erect, his cock was plump and thick and very happy looking, with a drop of pre gathering at its small mouth.
I got back to me feet and looked around at the naked sexual carnage that 25 had no doubt unleashed. I noted that none of the men looked at all in pain or even exhausted. No one was breathing hard from exertion or had a facial expression showing anything other than what one might call ecstasy.
“Feels so good,” the Latino Superman at my feet whispered as he moved his hand onto his thick cock and pleasured himself with slow, sensual strokes.
I looked at another man, with pale white skin and very pink nipples and a head of golden hair. He was, like the Latino, bulging with muscle everywhere on his body, thick wedges and cables of brawn that flexed and swelled with the slightest movement, showing the fibers of muscle under his paper-thin skin. He was rubbing his thumbs against those pink nipples and sighing with obvious bliss, twisting his head on his thickly muscled neck as the shocks of erotic sensation he was calling with his nipples made their way to his loins where a cock at least nine inches long and maybe just as thick was pulsing with dull, hard throbs and drooling a thick string of honey on his six-pack abs.
Another man, with skin so black it was almost blue, was situated on his back on a weight bench. He was stoking a very leg dick in his hands, using both to jerk himself off, groaning and cooing with pleasure. I watched him and felt my own dick pulsing in response to the overtly sexual nature of what I was watching, how every man in the gym was openly and unashamedly worshiping their own bodies, and sometimes someone else’s body. All accompanied by that strong, wet whiff of 25’s intense fuck scent and those rumbling groans and soft sighs of carnal lust.
I realized that these men—these bodies—were like breadcrumbs. As I followed the trail through the gym, the sensation of 25’s fuck scent and waves of sexual heat grew stronger and stronger, like walking towards a furnace. The trail was leading towards where I assumed the locker rom was at the back of the building, and getting closer I could hear running water and feel actual steam start to curl around me, adding wetness to 25’s warmth and skin-tingling sensual power.
There were more “bodies” in the locker room. A half dozen men who looked even larger than those outside. “Jesus,” I whispered, both from shock and from the intensity of arousal I was experiencing.
These were all disciples of 25. New members of his pack. There could be absolutely no denying it. These men had been… enhanced. Perhaps they owned muscles of that size before they ever encountered him, but there was no way that explained the way they looked, or the near perfection of their muscular development, the symmetry and size of every muscle.
And their faces weren’t just handsome, they were near superhuman in beauty. My dick sprang to action and wanted to rip its way out of my pants. I was breathless and aroused to an extent that I had never experienced before.
One of the men smiled when he saw me and licked his full lips. “He’s in there,” he said.
“What happened?” I managed to ask.
He shook his head and raised his arms and tensed his muscles into mind-boggling power. Fat, steel-hard muscle swelled up to ungodly size, the heads of his biceps rising into softballs of pure power and splitting into distinct mounds.
“So good,” he said. “So fucking good.”
Evidently, because at that moment he closed his eyes and came. A fat fountain of cum erupted from his foot-high hard-on and splattered all over his furry, massive pecs. It wasn’t the first time he came on his chest, and the fresh load added to the mess of sticky man cream already lacquered all over his torso, dripping from his fat nipples and clinging to the deep forest of dark curls that coated the two heavy globes of muscle pushing out inches from his chest.
“So good.” He came again.
It was the same with the other men in the locker room. They were simply erupting with cum, like geysers in Yosemite. A groan of intense pleasure would draw my attention and I’d watch as another gargantuan man’s gargantuan cock would swell and thicken and turn red and launch an unprovoked eruption of fresh, warm, thick cum. Then the man would sigh and smile and start to stroke himself again, or push his fingers into his own ass, or lean over and grope and kiss a companion whose massive and beautiful body just happened to be within reach.
I felt a sudden and very strong pulse of 25’s easily recognizable fuck scent wash over me, like a wave of pure sex emanating from the showers. My knees nearly buckled and the men gathered around me all sighed and groaned and came, and as I watched, blinking to clear my head of the overwhelming sense of erotic power coursing through me, I swear to fucking god they all started to grow.
It was very hot in there and very wet. The steam from the showers plus 25’s sex funk permeating the very air I was breathing made it sultry and sticky. Maybe my brain was on fire because my balls and dick certainly were, but as that wave of hot male power passed through us all, the effect it had on them was more intense than what I experienced, if their audible and physical reactions were any way to judge.
After it happened, after that overwhelming sexual throbbing sensation dimmed, they all sort of tensed up, like they were flexing their muscles and making their dicks jump and thicken and their bodies—their muscles—just got bigger.
It happened almost instantly, and maybe I wouldn’t have noticed in other circumstances, but because they were all naked and because I watched all their bodies undergo that weird bulging flex of muscle, it was clear that they had just grown bigger, more muscular, stronger, and more… masculine.
After it passed, they returned again to caressing themselves and each other, inundated in that all-encompassing sensation of masculine sexual energy that was overwhelming everything else. The place reeked of sweat and cum, like bathing in pure fuck juice.
I wobbled forward, unsteady on my feet, my own body feeling overwhelmed and energized in equal measure, my brain barely able to register anything except an incredible need to cum, to fuck, to be fucked, to worship all the massive muscular bodies around me, but I was drawn to something even more powerful that existed just beyond this room.
It was like trying to walk through a thick wall of hot fog. It made my mouth water and my balls tingle and my dick throb so hard I felt like it might explode. I was being coated in fuck scent, it clung to my skin and lips and sunk its fangs into my blood. Within that enclosed space where there weren’t even any windows to alleviate the awesome masculine power of 25’s fuck scent, there was also no escaping it. When I opened my mouth, it coated my tongue and infiltrated my lungs. I swallowed it inside me, feeling its power branching into my arms and legs. It saturated my clothes and skin. It was in the air and the steam and the floors and the walls. It was inescapable.
My head was filled with erotic visions. I could taste cum in my mouth. My lips were swollen after being kissed my its power. My dick was rock hard and my butt hole sizzled and tingled. My balls were swollen and packed tight in my shorts. I wanted to rip my clothes off my body and expose myself to its power, to bathe in it, shower in it, drown in it.
But my hands were shaking. I could hardly stand, let alone walk.
And I could feel it building again. After that… explosion of sex had washed over me, it was followed by a calm, like the tides rolling in. It was coming in waves, and the next one was on its way.
I reached down and rubbed my dick, clutching the swollen bulge and sighing with contentment. It felt hard and thick and very, very ready to explode. I rubbed and stroked it, and watched these lucky naked men with direct access to their own equipment also stroking and caressing their own massive erections, or someone else’s, or both.
But I needed to understand what was happening. I needed to witness whatever new phase of male enhancement that 25 was experiencing and sharing with all of us. So I stumbled forward against the tide of masculine power and sexual strength, feeling it pushing against me for dominance.
The next tide of male power was coming in. The heat and wetness and sense of awesome muscular strength started to swell, again. I was nearly there, at the epicenter of what was happening, knowing that 25 would be at the center of it all, sharing his still growing power of accelerated muscular development and enhanced male sexuality with every man within the circumference of his pulsing erotic sensation.
I heard a voice through the sound of running water and the heat and thick wetness of sex. “Y’all ready?” the voice asked. It was certainly 25 speaking, but now his voice was even deeper, more powerful, saturated with masculine capability and erotic need. It made me swoon and nearly fall to my knees.
The fuck scent was growing massive again. I could feel it start pushing against me, like a physical presence in the space. I heard that voice, his voice, sigh and groan and then it hit, hard, a tsunami of pure masculine strength and overwhelming sexual power. It felt almost as if it struck me, like walking into a wall, and then I did fall to the floor as the naked, beautiful men around me groaned and sighed and grunted in unison with their god, their skin coated in his pheromones, saturated with whatever he had become—was becoming.
And they bloomed with fresh, new muscle. Backs arched and cocks plumped and hardened, and fresh fountains of cum started to erupt everywhere. I pried my eyes open against the onslaught of masculine power and watched a man’s pecs swell like balloons. Another man’s prick lengthened by a full inch and thickened equally, its mouth spitting out a long, thick rope of pearlescent cream that splattered all over his furry six-pack. And another man threw out his arms as if welcoming the new wave of power and veins crawled along each thickly muscled limb and I watched his biceps and triceps and deltoids all swell larger.
How was it happening? What was 25 doing?
The wave subsided and they were all bigger, still. I watched some of them reach for large plastic containers and gulp the contents, realizing they were feeding themselves and each other from massive bottles of pure protein. The thick liquid drizzled from the corners of their mouths as they gulped the fuel inside their beautiful muscular bodies, passing the protein from man to man. Groans of pleasure and relief filled the locker room.
“Fuck, that was a big one,” 25’s deep and resounding voice announced.
There were murmurs of agreement and groans of pleasure. I pulled myself up and said, loudly, “25! 25! What’s happening?”
“Doc? That you?”
His voice entered my brain and caressed my libido. My dick jumped and throbbed. “Yeah. I can’t…”
“Dude, I’m so happy you’re here!” There was some commotion from inside the shower stalls and I heard him muttering, “Sorry, one sec. Sorry. Whoa, lookin’ good, dude. Yes, sorry, I gotta… Oops! Here, take some of mine.”
I was leaning against the lockers and… I felt him approaching. It was like that feeling of the wave of power but now it was constant. My heart started racing and my mouth went dry and I was clawing at my crotch to allow my cock out, because it was so hard and erect that it hurt.
Then someone touched my shoulder and I looked up.
And I came in my pants.
Like… a lot.
“This’ll help,” he said, as he pressed the tip of his huge, dripping cock to my lips.
I licked a drop of his warm cum from where he had smeared it across my lips. An insane and immediate hunger filled me, and I opened my mouth and he pushed himself inside. A sudden, thick gush of cum was forcing itself down my throat, and I started to suck his fat cock head with absolute lust and need as he pumped an ungodly amount of warm, sticky, delicious, intensely powerful cum inside me.
Dude, if I had any idea what was going to happen, or what was happening, probably I would have been more careful and shit.
I mean, like, who could have guessed, though? This was insane! And it was happening to me!
Okay, this may sound hard to believe but before all this went down? Me becoming Mr. Big Dick Bodybuilder Sex on Two Legs Leaking Fuck Juice that brings all the boys to the yard? I was Mr. Average. Or even Mr. Less Than Average. No shit, I was just some random dude like every other random dude. Nothing very special. I mean, I looked okay, got plenty of ass, some of it pretty prime too. When I got lucky, or the other dude was just horny enough to settle for me.
I worked out. Did my cardio. Tried to buy some nice clothes to look good on Tinder so I got some swipes, but I think if you saw me back then you’d lump me in right in the middle of things. I was the Goldilocks of dudes, not too hot and not too ugly. Kept in shape, stayed STD free, played things safe. The one thing I lacked was money.
College is fucking expensive! Hell, just living in a city is fucking expensive, so when I see this offer for subjects, or “candidates” as they called it, for some drug trial thing I figured why not? I fit the bill—male, healthy, sexually active, blah blah blah—so I walk in to that place all casual and not even thinking this is going to change my life.
But if I’m being truthful I knew something was up shortly after getting that first shot. It wasn’t much, just some clear liquid in a syringe, maybe a few drops or something. Nurse comes in, swabs my arm, jabs the needle, looks me in the eye and says “enjoy the ride,” which was weird but whatevs, right, and sends me on my way. Just gimme my check and I’m good.
Had to sign a bunch of documents, of course. NDAs and promises not to tell and monitor any unusual side effects, without actually telling me what “unusual” meant. But it was the next morning when I knew something was up so I go back in as instructed to get checked out, and that’s when the shit—or, I guess, the cum—hit the fan.
Whatever was happening to me started out slow but soon it was accelerating really fast, I’m talking rocket to the moon fast. I mean, I knew this was some new male enhancement jazz which was supposed to be better than anything already on the market, but I figured that just meant I’d get horny more often and get it up easier (not that I had any problems in that regard, I’m just saying) and maybe come more often or something.
Nobody told me my dick would start growing and my balls would swell up and my muscles would start to hurt like a motherfucker. The pain was pretty bad at first but they shot me up with something else they said would “ease the process” whatever that means, but hell if I didn’t start feeling better almost immediately.
But I could tell they were freaking the fuck out because all these people in white coats start showing up and they tell me I need to stay “under observation” while the “transition resolves” and then I was getting pretty worked up, like, what the fuck did they do to me?
Next morning—this is now two days after the first shot and one day after the second one—I start getting these weird, I guess, feelings? Like… like you know when you get high and the drugs hit and like this kind of wash of euphoria comes over you? Kind of giddy and loose and sexy, maybe? It was like that, except I was super lucid. Not high at all, I knew exactly what was happening and that I was developing this, like, new way of relating to people.
Number one, everyone was really super nice all the sudden. Wanting to please me and shit, and also being complimentary to an absurd degree. I didn’t realize that they were all flirting with me because it’s not something I experienced a lot of, but I also didn’t have a mirror handy to realize what was happening to my face.
I mean, I could just look down and see that my body was changing. And in some pretty dramatic ways! I guess I should have been more freaked out about it, but I like it! It was fun and it felt good. Maybe that second shot contributed to that? I’m not a doctor so what do I know?
Anyway, it was like anything I said or did, everyone just wanted to fuck me. Or me to fuck them. Fucking was a big part of whatever was going on, and not only did I understand that but I could start to tell exactly what I needed to do or say to be that person’s, like, perfect partner.
It helped that I was starting to look like some model or something. I mean, I look more or less the same as I did, only more… beautiful? I guess? Once I finally caught my reflection in a pane of glass I have to admit that even I wanted to fuck me. This shit they put inside me was some amazing wonder drug, whatever it was.
I also realized that what was happening to me was unique and unexpected. Like, they had no fucking clue what to do with me, and I just kept getting better looking, bigger cock, bigger muscles, and I felt… different. More, like, confident. More assured. More… everything.
I could tell they were scared and I started getting scared, too. Not for what was happening, because that was and still is awesome. Feels amazing, frankly, and I fucking love fucking and getting fucked and now that I can do it, like, all the time it’s pretty fucking great. But they weren’t letting me leave, or even go outside.
But were they protecting me, protecting themselves, or protecting everyone else? I mean, from my point of view everything was cool. So what if I was getting bigger and stronger and more handsome every day? It was like, every morning I’d wake up and I was better than the day before. My voice changed, my body—my skin—was more sensitive. I started jerking off, like, constantly because if I didn’t it was like my balls were on fire or something. They wanted to collect my cum and since I had so much of it, what did I care?
In retrospect, maybe they were right, though. Because now shit was getting truly weird, but I didn’t want to stop it. I couldn’t.
So, I guess those dudes unlocked something. The dudes outside who were, like, worshipping me. I’m not gonna lie, it felt amazing having all those hands and mouths and dicks rubbing up against me and making my nipples tingle and my balls swell and my cock throb. Also, that was one choice piece of ass I was plugged into. I mean, I don’t think I could’ve stopped fucking that dude if I wanted to, and I did not want to!
I started coming and couldn’t stop. It was like the dam burst or something, but it felt… right. Y’know? Like it was supposed to feel like that. Like all the stuff leading up to that moment—all the dudes I fucked, all the dudes who fucked me, the muscle growth and the height and whatever—like that was all in preparation for this. Like it was unavoidable. It was the… culmination of everything else.
This was me, a fully enhanced man. That shot I got in my butt a few weeks ago obviously changed me a lot more than anyone anticipated, unless, like, those eggheads in the lab actually meant this to happen?
Which seemed insane and incredible. And also unbelievable, except it was happening to me so it was kind of hard to doubt it, you know?
Anyway, I mention all that shit because I’m certain someone’s going to ask me what’s up with, you know, all the muscle and cock and ass and face and… smell. Like I know? I’m not a scientist or doctor or whatever. I’m just this dude who was lucky enough to own a body that apparently really, really likes being a dude and being around other dudes and mostly having sex with them while I keep growing bigger, stronger, sexier, and all-around more, like, amazing.
So, yeah, I’m having fun with all of this. Maybe I should be scared or whatever. Looking in the mirror and everyday I see a slightly different face who’s slightly better looking than yesterday, slightly taller, slightly wider, slightly bigger and then after days and weeks of this continual cycle of enhancement or improvement I now look like some CGI superhero as imagined by a gay dude who’s really into, like I said, muscle and cock and ass and face and smell.
Although the smell thing is a bit worrisome, if I’m being honest. I mean, my body growing ever more beautiful and stronger and taller and thicker with awesome muscle is one thing, but this fog of thick fuck juice I’m apparently leaking that drives men batshit with desire and lust and makes every dude I meet kind of like my slave? Yeah, that’s just a bit worrisome.
I mean, to be clear, I try not to take advantage of that shit. I’m kind of certain that if I asked one of my new sex pals to, like, I dunno, go… jump off a cliff naked they’d probably do it just to please me. So I’m glad I have that other dude inside me making sure I’m not an asshole.
Thing is I like that dude, the nice guy inside me. Maybe he was always there and maybe I’m just a nice guy at heart, but I think that along with the physical upgrades I also got that dude just to, you know, try to keep me human. Decent. Caring. While I’m also being sexy as fuck and producing enough cum to fill a reservoir.
Also I’m no longer sure where this will stop. Every day I think I’m about as sexy as a guy can get. Then I wake up and I’m even sexier! I know that sounds kind of gross and definitely egotistic but it’s just a fact. Like, does this mountain have a peak, or do I just keep climbing and getting bigger and better every fucking day? I wouldn’t exactly complain about that, I mean, who would? But it makes me wonder what I’ll look like—be like—in a month. Or a year. Or ten years.
How fucking sexy can one man get?
Like I said, the dam broke, both metaphorically in the case of my enhancements and literally in the case of my balls, and I was actually, really, honestly helping those dudes grow. And more than that, I was making me grow!
I mean, I had been growing, obviously, but that was like this slow process. But now I could see me growing, and more than that, I could make it happen! Like, I could look down at myself and kind of… wish? I guess? What would you call it when you pull something impossible into reality and watch it happen just as you imagined it? I looked down at my chest and thought my pecs should get bigger, and then they did!
It felt weird at first. Like this intense tingling and throbbing, which I guess is how muscles feel when they’re instantly getting bigger. Not that there’s anyone I could ask since, far as I know, I’m the only dude around that can make myself grow. Unless someone else also took this stuff and is also secretly being an awesome sex god with a cock as big as a house and a body strong enough to bend steel and a face that would stop traffic and then make the traffic spontaneously start orgasming.
On the one hand, this is totally not my fault. I mean, I know this is potentially dangerous and possibly world-altering—a dude who can alter his own body and make himself grow bigger and more powerful just by, like, wishing for it or something like that—and believe me I know how utterly weird this all is. But on the other hand, it’s so fucking awesome!
I mean, from my admittedly elevated point of view.
So, he showed up like I knew he would, my friend the therapist, who worships me, and he was all kind of freaked out by all the dudes I’d already given some of my, what? Help? I guess? And probably I smelled absolutely overwhelming. I mean, that was part of the reason for the shower. It was becoming so strong, whatever it is, that sex stink my body makes now, that it was kind of driving dudes crazy.
With lust! Not, like, actually crazy. I mean, no one was drooling and tearing their hair out or anything, but what they were doing was more like non-stop fucking. And sucking. And pretty much anything a naked dude can do, they were doing that. Both to me and with me, but also each other.
And then there was the growth, or I suppose ‘male enhancement’ is more appropriate for the circumstances. Lots of them looked pretty good already, this being a gym and all. But then I walked in and all hell broke lose. Hell, in this case, being like an orgy of sex and physical development.
I watched it happen and honestly? It felt good. Amazing, even. Watching the effect I had on every guy I encountered. And it—I—was 100% effective. No one, no man, was the same as he was after I met them. And it didn’t even seem to take direct contact or anything, just being around me was changing them for the better.
Now, I say ‘for the better’ because outwardly, that’s what it looked like to me. Sure, what makes a man handsome or attractive is of course debatable and someone else could argue that a bigger, taller, more muscular, more hirsute man with a bigger dick that’s nearly always hard and balls as large as lemons plump with a copious load of cum ready to pump it out up that thick, veiny, beautiful cock may not necessarily be ‘better.’ But speaking personally, every man I encountered after the initial, uh, upgrade to my own capabilities was definitely ‘better.’
And like I said, so far I’m 100% effective!
But when a dude sucked my dick, or really just got some of my cum on them, the effect was intensified. Sucking my dick is, like, the most intense apparently. Swallowing a load makes the changes start happening really fast and makes them really evident. Like a direct injection of pure male enhancement. Getting cum on their skin works a bit, but once a guy swallows it the changed come fast and furious, to quote a movie series I particularly enjoy.
Like, this one dude? He was kind of skinny. Not, like, weak or anything, and everyone is skinny compared to me of course. But he very clearly wanted to suck my dick, and I say that because he walked over and started sucking my dick.
Now, to be fair, I own a very suckable dick. Long and thick and it just slides on down a guy’s throat like it was built for that, and maybe it was? I’m not exactly sure, but it seems like that’s its main purpose now. It’s even bent in a way that when I push the head into a mouth the rest of the thing just slides on in and then I start pumping cum like a… cum pump.
Honestly, it doesn’t even take any kind of extra stimulation! It’s like I’m now in a constant state of stimulation, like completely horned up and fucking randy as a virgin in a brothel. A brothel filled with handsome, big-decked, muscular men who all want to fuck me. Or suck me. Or be fucked by me.
Oh! Also I just know what a dude—or several—wants. Their desire is kind of being broadcast and if they want this perfect ass, I know it. If they want this perfect cock, I know it. And, like that dude, if they want to wrap their lips around my dick head and suck me down their throat and start blowing my huge monster like a baby on a nipple, I know that too.
So this dude swallows my cock and I start pumping out a thick delivery of cream and he’s moaning and grabbing my ass and digging his fingers in, fucking my warm, wet asshole with his talented and hungry digits and I’m fucking coming non-stop and I can see and feel him growing almost immediately.
My hands are on his shoulders and his skin gets all warm and I can feel the muscles start to press against my hands, his growth forcing my fingers to get wider as I feel his body growing taller, too, rising up as he grows thicker and harder with more muscle and I just keep pushing more cum inside him and the cum keeps feeding his growth and he keeps sucking and I keep coming and before I know it I’m grabbing onto a fucking bodybuilder who only a few minutes ago looked more like Tom Daley than Tom Paris.
So I guess it takes something out of a guy to be forced to grow so big so fast and after a few minutes of me feeding him my growth enhancing semen he’s worn out and basically falls off my dick—which is still pumping out a constant stream of cum by the way—so I kind of pet him on his head and let him recover and move on to the next guy.
And the next guy.
And the next guy.
And at the same time I’m also getting bigger, stronger, and I have to assume even better looking. The enhancements keep piling up and I keep handing them out like candy on Halloween. I mean, why keep it all to myself, especially if it seems like I have an unending supply of it?
Oh, I started drinking a fuck ton of supplements because I was starting to feel worn out myself. I guess there’s only so much enhancing a guy can give before he needs to replenish himself. Luckily I was at a gym and there was a huge stock of protein supplements and like creatine and amino acids and basically all the junk a man’s body needs if his goal is to build muscle as fast as possible.
Which was what I was doing, only I was also doing it to lots of other male bodies at the same time.
After gulping down a dozen or so extra-large bottles of that junk which, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried it but it tastes like shit, my body was recovering and I was fit and happy and pumping cum like a fucking fountain in Central Park. I was ready for another round of helping some other dudes get enhanced as well so I decided to call my pal the therapist.
The phone looked ludicrously small in my hand and using it with these big sausage fingers was kind of comical, but I managed it somehow. I even use one of those extra large phones but I guess I’ll have to switch to an iPad or something. I’m not complaining! I just didn’t stop to consider how much the world isn’t designed for someone like me.
I decided to take a selfie with some of my new pals so I stood up and wandered out to the gym floor and they started gathering around me like drones to their queen bee, hungry for more of what I had to give them in abundance. They were hungry and lustful and a little bit drunk or high, kind of logy and slow but maybe that’s just from their bodies still adjusting. Funny I never felt like that, I just feel, you know, fucking horny as fuck all the time.
So I lift up the little phone in my big hand and take a pic—kind of a multi-dick pic—and I couldn’t really get all of me in it along with all of them, but whatever. I just wanted to send him an invite, because I’m kind of growing attached to the little dude and I wanted to, you know, make the little dude bigger.
I knew he’d find me one way or another, and when he did I was gonna shove my big cock all the way down his throat and feed him until he was as big as me.
I knew without too much personal reflection that if I wanted to keep enjoying 25’s attention and all the fringe benefits that came along with that attention that I was going to have to lie pretty convincingly at work. I mean, it’s not like my job is super important in the bigger picture. All I do is interview the test subjects post-test and take some measurements and so forth, all in the name of record keeping so the FDA and the CDC don’t get bent out of shape about new drugs and their potential side effects.
25’s side effects were too huge to ignore—both literally and figuratively—and it wasn’t hard to deduce that if I registered his actual physical measurements and all the other side effects he was undergoing, like the whole he can fuck endlessly without ever tiring and pump cum from his massive balls in a seemingly unending stream and had gained over a hundred pounds of powerful muscle all built onto his steadily growing frame in perfect, jaw-dropping, mouth-watering perfection so that pretty much anyone he encountered fell in lust with him on the spot, not to mention a voice dripping with masculine power and the insane funky sex stink he was pumping out like a badly tuned diesel engine, wafting his incredibly potent pheromones in a thick invisible fog of pure desire and amping up my libido past the red line whenever I was within a couple dozen feel of his always naked and perfect body.
But what I was really trying to protect was myself, of course. With every visit I made to his sex lair—passing two or three other dudes on their way out with those familiar looks of absolute lust and 1000% fulfilled pleasure—we all had another thing in common that none of us said out loud but that each of us recognized with long, lingering looks at each others’ fantastically sexy bodies.
We were growing, too. Growing muscle, growing dick, growing taller and thicker and stronger and sexier with every visit. He’d do whatever it is he wanted with us, because I lived only to service his needs now, and in return each of us was growing closer to his perfection.
Not that I was anywhere near his level of male enhancement, having only benefitted from the effects his body was now producing rather than the direct benefits he was constantly enjoying as the recipient of the actual drug, but I was growing so fast now that my clothes couldn’t keep up, and neither could my clothing allowance.
So when I was summoned into one of the exec suites by not my boss, and not my boss’s boss, but my boss’s boss’s boss for a “one on one,” I sort of knew what I was in for.
I just had no idea what my boss’s boss’s boss was in for.
Probably I should have realized that along with the other physical benefits which were growing painfully obvious to see, after all no average guy puts on 25 pounds of muscle and grows four inches taller in the space of a few weeks, no matter how hard he’s working out at the local gym. Add to that the fact that my facial structure and appearance was changing in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that my cock—also four inches longer—was now in a near constant state of obvious excitement inside my tighter trousers (since my ass was now more like two huge beach balls of thick, firm muscle built for shoving my always-hard prick into the nearest available butt hole). And that I think I was also starting to pump out enhanced masculine pheromones that made me smell like someone rubbed their sweaty balls all over a locker room and then made me dive headfirst into that soup of pure male sex. I mean, with how I looked now, how my muscles were developing as if someone was inflating them from an air pump, my male model face and gymnast becoming bodybuilder frame, someone was bound to notice.
It wasn’t just me, though. In fact, I saw one dude at the facility—I think he was a psych dude or someone from medical judging by his too-tight white lab coat—who was so jacked and pumping out so much sex juice that he looked like he’d Hulked out at some point and just decided to stay that way, and when we caught each other’s gazes a look of knowing and jealousy and desire crossed between us like lightning bolts across the room. I mean, that dude had to be fucking 25, or getting fucked by 25, or more likely both, on a daily basis.
Anyway, I get this email about this meeting about some “abnormalities in my reports” and I knew exactly what this was about, because after becoming close to 25 and understanding that no one else would ever be able to compare to him from this point forward, I was altering his results to look more “normal,” except someone must have taken notice and reported it up the chain. Either that or my tight-fitting clothes and bigger everywhere body wasn’t quite as inconspicuous as I was thinking.
As I entered the room, there was just one dude in there, thank god, and even though I tore open a sleeve when I turned the doorknob to close the door—fucking biceps getting bigger again—I tried to remain cool and calm in the face of the oncoming storm.
I mean, was it my fault if these dudes invented a male enhancement drug so powerful that it was turning one lucky guy into a towering muscular representation of sex on two legs? Two very powerful eggs? Attached to an ass so gorgeous you just want to stare at it and worship it all day before shoving your face between his massive muscular mounds and lick his perfect pucker until he allows you to push your steel-hard cock inside him and once more experience the exquisite perfection of fucking the most perfect ass on the planet?
I pushed my hair out of my eyes—even my hair was growing faster now, not to mention feeling silky and soft and shining like fiber optic cable—and looked at him and he literally gasped when he looked at me.
Maybe it was the combination of things at work. My pheromones in that small, enclosed room, his sudden horniness, my constant and overwhelming horniness, and the fact that most of the other men I’d encountered so far were more like me—one of 25’s stable of constant lovers—instead of some random boss man who had no idea what he was in for.
But whatever the circumstances the next thing that happened surprised the shit out of me when it probably shouldn’t have if I’d been paying more attention to all the men I’d passed on the way here who had stopped dead in their tracks as I passed and found their own pricks suddenly hot and throbbing and swelling towards the hardest, thickest erection they’d ever experienced while their balls tingled and pulsed and began filling with more cum than they’d ever produced before.
“Hello,” I said, offering my hand. “I’m Todd.”
He was just sitting there staring at me, his jaw hanging open, his eyes round, his breathing short and shallow. And I found myself enjoying the effect I was obviously having on this guy. A feeling of… power. Of control. Of… domination. If this is what 25 was feeling all the time, I know I wanted more of it. “Take off your shirt,” I said, though I can’t exactly explain why I said it.
Was it a test? Probably. Did I think about it before I said it? Not at all. It was what I wanted from him. So I told him to do it. I smiled as I watched his fingers, trembling slightly, rise to the buttons of his shirt and start to remove it. His unblinking eyes were staring at my face, my lips, my jawline, my nose, my own eyes, and it was clear that the man was in lust with me, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Now, this was the first time this ever happened to me. I mean, I’d been fucking and getting fucked by 25 for a couple of weeks on a nearly daily basis because I had to, and I wanted to, and I needed to, so I hadn’t considered what someone else might do when they were exposed to me. I was lucky to realize maybe 20% of the enhancements that 25 was manifesting, though I hadn’t been measuring my own growth rate because I wasn’t a test subject, was I? But I knew I was getting bigger—a lot bigger—on a nearly daily basis. You don’t swell with a couple dozen pounds of raw muscle, or feel your cock growing thicker and longer by inches, in the course of a few days and not notice, know what I mean?
He had his shirt off and he had what’s colloquially referred to as a “dad bod.” Most of the dudes at the facility did, now that I was paying more attention to every guy I encountered since I was in a state of constant horniness and my eyes were scanning the faces, butts, crotches, and assorted body parts of every dude I saw. He was wearing a white crewneck T under his dress shirt, which he’d carelessly tossed aside. Sweat stains darkened his pits and I could see his small, pointed nipples pushing against the white cotton. For some reason, even that made my dick pulse.
“Take off your T-shirt, too.”
He did it without hesitation. Every command that he obeyed made my cock throb and my hear beat faster. The sensation of dominating this man was growing stronger like my muscles and my dick.
“Come over here.”
He stood up, causing the chair legs to scream against the tile floor, and circled around the small table in the conference room, his unblinking eyes never leaving my face. I was perhaps six inches taller than he was, and massively more muscled. It felt like I was swelling with power and strength as he approached, like my body was responding to being obeyed by growing even more masculine and dominant.
“Suck my dick,” I said. And, sure, that might seem like a sudden escalation to our meeting but it was what I wanted from him. It was pretty much what I wanted from anyone, now.
Except 25, of course, for whom I would do anything he asked rather than the other way around.
He dropped to his knees, I could see that he was going bald on the back of his head and that now that I paid more attention, he had some very soft looking lips that were going to feel amazing caressing the plump head of my cock, kissing and sucking on me because he couldn’t help himself.
He started undoing my belt and unzipping my fly, pulling the crotch of my pants open so forcefully that I nearly lost my balance. Fuck, this dude wanted me more than I wanted him to want me! My shorts were already damp with pre-cum and a strong, potent swell of my male pheromones rose from my loins. I sucked it in like a gorgeous perfume, turning myself on even more strongly, and watched his nostrils flare as the dank tang of my sex stink assaulted his senses.
“Take it out.”
He pulled at the elastic on my shorts and yanked them down, exposing my thick, curly pubic bush glazed with strings of more pre, since I was now drooling it from the small mouth of my prick in a constant drizzle. He pushed his hand inside my bulge and grabbed the thick, warm shaft of my cock, squeezing me pretty firmly before wrestling my eight fat inches free. My dick swelled with size now that it was free and slapped itself across his face, leaving a wet trail of honey across his cheek and lips.
He licked it off and moaned, though I wasn’t sure if it was because of the taste of me or the size of me. He was no longer staring at my beautiful face because he’d suddenly found something much more beautiful which would easily sate the sudden hunger he had for me ever since I told him what I wanted from him.
Was he even gay? It didn’t matter, of course. I realized he had no choice in the matter. No one would. One look—one glance—at my massive, throbbing, drooling meat made him hunger for something he probably never experienced before, namely the sensation of pulling my thick, lengthy prick inside his warm, wet mouth and trying to suck the cum out of my balls. Not to mention my growing sense of confidence and a certain boldness around my sexual prowess and my ability to please anyone I was with.
“Suck it,” I said, almost so softly that it was like a whisper. My dick was now rock hard and pointing itself at his mouth, almost as if it had a mind and desires of its own. He pushed his tongue out tentatively, perhaps because there was still something within him fighting back for control. But as he pressed the tip of his tongue to the top of my cock, lapping at the steady drizzle of honey I was releasing as my heat and need increased exponentially, an equally soft moan of absolute pleasure was released from his throat and I knew that he was mine, just like I was 25’s.
He pushed his mouth over my cock with a suddenness and need that surprised me, bringing up his hands to grasp my cock in his grip and stroking, squeezing, and rubbing my pre- and spit-coated cock as he began to try to swallow me.
He choked a bit, but who wouldn’t? My cock was huge, and unyielding. It was so hard now that I could probably hammer nails with it, and his eagerness and desire to please me was overwhelming all other considerations, including the discomfort of a gag reflex trying to compensate for sucking a salami down his throat.
To be honest he wasn’t very good. I assumed this was his first time trying to suck a cock, and here I was presenting him with an Olympic-level man’s prick of outstanding dimensions and inflexible hardness. And I could have started coming inside him as quickly as his lips touched me, but I wanted to enjoy this, and that meant allowing my load to build and build and build until I couldn’t hold back anymore and could experience an orgasm so powerful that I’d have to bite my fist to keep from screaming in absolute gratification.
I put my large hand behind his head and started fucking his mouth, moving my slim hips and flexing my massive muscular ass slightly as he tried valiantly to satisfy my unquenchable thirst for sex with his somewhat awkward and virginal attempt to blow me.
In a way, that made it hotter for me. There’s no way he would’ve done this on his own, but all I had to do was ask him and here he was, my boss’s boss’s boss, on his knees before me, gagging on my cock. I was delirious with power, even though I knew that right now there was literally nothing he wanted more than to please me.
My balls started to feel heavy and I knew I was generating an award-level amount of warm, sticky cream. Some of that was his doing, just to give him some credit, but I mean my balls were always on overdrive now anyway. Frankly I could have walked in here, pulled out my cock, stroked myself a few times and unloaded thick ropes of cum all over his face and chest without even trying if I wanted to.
“That feels good,” I said, and he looked up at me with tears in his eyes, probably from trying not to gag, or maybe because I’d made him so happy with my faint praise for his efforts. “You’re doing good, baby.” I grabbed his thinning hair and squeezed while pushing my nine inches all the way down his throat and slapping his chin with my pendulous balls.
He whimpered, because his mouth was full, and I felt his teeth rake my cock, not that they could make a dent in its incredible density. My balls were screaming for release, understandable since it had been at least an hour since I last came in the men’s toilet stall, painting the inside of the bowl with fat jets of cum, almost as if I was pissing it.
But he’d been such a good submissive, I wanted to reward him. I didn’t know if my cream would have the same effect as 25’s did on me, but I figured the more I gave him the more the possible effects would be.
“Mmm,” I moaned, closing my eyes and rubbing his head. “Feels so good.” I looked down at him and smiled and he whimpered again, clearly enraptured. “You want my cum, baby? You want to swallow every drop?” He nodded but kept sucking. “Grab my ass, baby. Tease my hole with your fingers.”
I was going to give him so much cum he was going to be feel like he was drowning. And as he sucked my cock with such devotion, and began to dig his fingers into my tight, pink hole—an act I was almost certain he had never even considered before, let alone have any actual experience fingering a hole, which I must say he did okay considering—I knew suddenly and without a doubt how my secrets and lies and liaisons with 25 could continue.
It was so simple, and it wasn’t something 25 ever told me, or asked of me, probably because he didn’t want to be a secret. The more men he was with, the more sex and lust and devotion and loyalty he drew to himself, the more powerful he became. For him, it was all about growing his stable of lovers, providing a constant stream of raw, naked, sweaty, cum-flooded sex to his ever enhancing body, face, cock, muscles, and ass.
But I didn’t need that. I needed something else to help 25 grow his legion of male lovers, who would then pass his seed to others, who would then bring even more to him.
I looked down at his eyes, gazing up at me for approval and attention, and said, “You’re not going to tell anyone about this, or about my report, or that anything unusual is occurring with any patient. Okay?” He nodded while he sucked me. His fingers were gaining some talent inside me, as he pushed more and more in my ass. “Because if you ever do that, we can’t be together ever again. Do you understand? If you mention this, or me, or 25, you can’t suck my dick, or fuck my ass, or look at my face as I fuck you.”
He nodded in absolute agreement.
I used to love doing porn, and I used to think that nothing else could satisfy me like getting off in public. But that was before I became 25’s willing fuck toy, and before my body started changing in ways both awesome and impossible.
Everyone noticed, of course. I mean, there was hours of me naked all over the internet doing things solo or with another dude or a group of dudes, all of us fucking and sucking and kind of faking it until the next paycheck. Let’s admit it, porn isn’t real sex even when you’re pushing your hard cock inside someone else’s tight ass while a cameraman shoves his deck between your legs to get up close and personal.
But ever since me and 25 became a thing, porn wasn’t enough for me. Plus my body was changing in ways no one could have predicted, but everyone enjoyed.
Bigger muscles? Check! Bigger dick? Check! Bigger cum loads? Double-check! My face seemed to be changing, too, becoming more, I dunno, masculine? Powerful? Aggressive? Certainly I felt like I was handsomer, but I’m probably not the best judge of that since I was turning myself on a long time ago. Maybe that’s just part of being a porn star. I like looking at myself and watching myself, particularly I love watching myself fuck.
I’m great at fucking, but lately “great” doesn’t seem like a great enough description. Awesome, maybe? Amazing? Stunning, astounding, astonishing, mind-boggling, take your pick.
Because I’m not only fucking non-stop, with a hard-on that won’t quit and fat, thick, sloppy loads of cum pumping out of my fat balls and shooting out of my massive prick with almost stupid ease. It’s almost like I can cum on command, and then do it again.
Oh! Also it’s not just my fellow actors who are getting the benefits of my improved sexual powers and near limitless stamina, the crew joins in, and the director, and pretty much every set I’m on turns into an orgy of Biblical proportions. With me at the center of it all fucking and getting fucked and coming over and over and over. It’s pretty breathtaking, if I say so myself.
I imagine that if I were in some other occupation besides getting buck naked and sticking my cock into asses for the cameras all these changes might cause some problems, and some questions.
Questions like, so, how did you put on twenty pounds of muscle in a month? Why is your dick two inches longer and thicker than a Coke bottle? How is it your ass seems able to accommodate the biggest, fattest dicks around and just keep going? And why the fuck do you now possess some male runway model’s face and you’re growing hair in places you used to be bare?
My chest is sprouting fur like a bear. If I don’t shave every day—sometimes twice a day—my new chiseled jawline gains a sexy shadow of a beard that looks a week old. The hair on my head is now at my shoulders and growing fuller, thicker, and softer every day. It’s…weird. A good kind of weird, but weird nonetheless.
I mean, I knew 25 had something odd happening to him because if my own dimensions and appearance were changing over the course of days, he seemed to be getting better looking, bigger, sexier, stronger, and more arousing with every passing minute. Like he might let me fuck him and between the time I pushed myself inside that perfect ass the time I started pumping thick ropes of cum out of my own massive meat, the dude looked like he had gained muscle, dick, and ass all at once. I mean, that’s not possible, is it?
But my own journey was weird enough. No way I wasn’t going to share all my goodies with the guys! For one thing, I almost had to! My balls were swelling with cum persistently, so much so that if I wasn’t emptying them on a regular basis—let’s say five times a day—they’d start to ache. And my cock’s deflation levels were also crazy. I could frankly get hard and swell to full power in a matter of seconds, now. And believe me, when you’re a porn star that is a really handy talent.
Are things getting out of hand? That depends on your definition of “in hand.” Like my cock always wanted to be. In my hand. Get it? Sorry, my brain may not be at full power when all the blood in my body is constantly rushing into my cock to keep it at full mast.
I was already big to begin with (porn star!) but things are starting to get a bit uncomfortable. A nine-inch hard-on that grows two more inches and stays firm nearly 24/7 can be both distracting and inconvenient. I mean, sure, I can get food delivered and answer the door in the altogether (and fuck the delivery guys because when they see me their mouths drop open and they’re pulling their own clothes off before the door is even closed) but I do need to go outside to get to and from shoots, or grab a carton of eggs (protein!) and some chicken breasts, or just, you know, go for a walk and grab some rays.
And there’s my dick, all eight-inches soft (as if it ever gets soft) and eleven-inches hard of it. Try squeezing a salami into your jeans and see how comfortable it is.
Not that I want it smaller! God, no! I want it bigger! As big as it can get, and judging from 25’s size I have a ways to go, yet.
Just thinking about him makes me need him. Want him. Desire him. Almost like there’s an invisible tether between us and he’s tugging it all the time. I know he doesn’t really need me, because he’s got an unending parade of handsome, horny, big-dicked dudes servicing his needs at every hour, and the more the merrier, right?
But I need him. Like, physically need him. Like when he’s not around he’s all I think about.
Well, except when I’m getting my own cock serviced or fucking away at a series of amazing, and willing, asses myself.
“What’s your secret?” they ask me. I just smile and lick my lips and grab my cock and wag it at them and their questions disappear like smoke in the wind. Who gives a fuck how I got this way when I can fuck you delirious for hours and then when you’re worn out, I go fuck someone else.
And though I’ve always considered myself versatile and I enjoy a nice cock-induced prostate massage like the next randy slut, lately I have this…need…to fuck. To spread my seed when they spread their ass. To push myself in deep and really plow them until my over-burdened balls can’t hold another drop and I can unload all my rich, warm, sticky, salty cream inside them and hear them moan and groan in utter delight. Almost makes me wish I could fuck myself to feel what it’s like!
Not that I haven’t tried, of course. But it’s just not the same, is it, those of you also lucky enough to own a prick so long you can shove it in your own ass? I mean, sucking myself off has its attractions, and squirting my load down my throat and swallowing all that rich, thick cream feels great. Almost like I have to have it or something. Like I feel better after swallowing a load. But it’s not the same as…dominating someone else. Making them take every inch, and hearing them whimper and moan before the incredible pleasure of me inside them takes over and then there’s nothing else they’d rather do than be my bitch.
Like, this one dude? So, I order a pizza and this is going to sound like some bad porn flick—believe me I know—but swear to god it was so fucking hot.
I’m hungry, like I’m always hungry lately, feeding this growing muscular body takes a lot of food I guess, and it doesn’t seem to matter what I eat it all turns into muscle. And cock. And ass. Anyway, I wanted pizza so I order an XL with everything from the local parlor, which makes a great pie, by the way. I ain’t skimping on myself. So 45 minutes later, ring ring on my doorbell and I peep the cam and there’s this young dude, Latin guy, probably 19 or 20, big dark eyes, broad nose, and a gap in his teeth as he announces, “Pizza.”
Man, my libido, which was already in overdrive from edging for an hour on the couch and lapping up the streams of pre my cock drools while I watched some of my own fuck vids (have I mentioned how great my ass looks on camera?), and I see this dude and I’m thinking, oh yeah, I’m gonna fuck his ass into next Tuesday. Or something like that. Like I said, when the blood is pumping my prick to its full extents my brain goes bye-bye and all I am is a fuck machine with no off switch.
So I answer the door—naked, naturally, with my throbbing stiffy standing up thick and proud—and I smile at this dude, slightly shorter than me, in a backwards baseball cap and a loose Dodgers shirt (no accounting for taste, I guess) and watch as he gets a whiff of me, his nostrils flare, his eyes dilate, he licks his lips as his eyes drop down and get a load of my fuck monster still drooling thick drizzles of honey, and I know I have him.
“How much?” I ask, all nonchalant as shit. Like I have a wallet somewhere on my naked personage.
His mouth opens but nothing comes out. Instead, the dude practically jumps on me and attaches his lips to mine and reaches down to grab my dick like it’s a fucking baseball bat and he’s kissing and stroking and caressing my ass with his other hand and the fucking pizza is on the fucking carpet but my hunger has very quickly shifted away from food towards more carnal needs.
He kept kissing me as he’s pressing me back inside my apartment and trying frantically to undress himself. I’m basically laughing between kisses and he looks fucking hot with his coffee and cream skin and his thick, warm lips and when he finally rips his shirt off—like, literally rips it off—he has a nice, lean, muscular body more like a natural athlete would have then someone like me who hangs out at the gym when I’m not just growing muscle by the pound from sucking 25’s dick.
I’m talking flat belly, nice pecs but not huge (like mine), smooth skin, no abs to speak of but he’s just all lean, prime meat. And I can already feel his cock stretching to try and match mine. Good luck with that, dude.
So I decide to help him and I’m pulling his button-fly jeans open and try shoving them of his narrow hips but they won’t budge and then I see why when he has to manage his pants around the amazing thick bulk of this dude’s bubble butt to end all bubble butts. I’m talking twin beach balls mounted on his backside, round and thick and full. Fucking hell, if I thought my dick was hard before just seeing this dude from behind has me feeling myself stretch and thicken and harden to new, bigger, better dick dimensions. Like, is this guy’s phat ass making my cock grow, because it sure feels like it?!
All the sudden I realize that the reason this handsome smooth lean athletic dude is trying to rip his way out of his clothes is because I have somehow lucked into the city’s hungriest bottom, a man with an ass built to be fucked by a man with a cock as big as mine, owned by a fucking porn star who knows how to fuck!
The heat between us swells like a volcano eruption as he drops to his knees and starts worshipping my cock better almost than anyone has ever done it. I just cup my hands behind my neck, making my baseball biceps bunch and swell, and look down as he sucks and kisses and stroked and spits all over my meat, getting me so hard I feel like I have 12 pounds of steel strapped to my loins.
In other words, the dude was good.
He’s moaning and groaning and working my meat and staring at my cock like a man who found his god. He was whispering something between oral sessions and I had to close my eyes to hear him. “Fuck me,” he kept saying. Whispering it to my erection as if it had a mind of its own, and maybe it does now. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”
Well, no one has to ask me twice.
Admittedly, my place was a fucking mess—fucking in both senses. It was a fucking mess because there were discarded clothes everywhere and the bed sheets were hardly hanging on to the mattress and it smelled like cum and sweat and balls, and it was a fucking mess because I was spending so much time fucking I didn’t have time to clean up the mess. Of course that didn’t matter to this dude, who was oblivious now to everything but my cock and his needs, which were luckily the same thing.
I grab on to those twice beach balls mounted on his backside and use them like handles, swinging him around with my new strength and muscles and throwing him face-first onto my bed, with him landing with his ass in the air as if god intended this. My dick the god, I mean.
My mouth is watering looking at this dude’s prime ass. Jesus, how many squats had he performed to build this edifice to ass? Smooth, round, ripe and ready. He actually wags himself at me as if I needed further invitation.
Me being me, I basically shove my cock in to the hilt and impale him on my massive meat. He shrieks and whimpers and I don’t know if he feels good or bad and I don’t really care. All’s I know is my balls are ready to burst with my load, my dick is so hard it hurts, and I’ve never felt an ass a warm, welcoming, and perfect as his.
I mean, 25 is always the exception to any rule, but this dude came in at a close second.
I started fucking him and his whimpers turned into moans. He started whispering again, his prayer, his litany, to my magic and massive cock. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.” Like he was lost in a waking dream of perfect bliss as I professionally fucked his ass, driving deeper that anyone had ever gone, and filling his tight hole with so much pre that it was squirting out against my loins like a sex glaze, dripping warm honey down my inner thighs and making my cock slide in and out with increasing speed.
As I’m fucking him, I can feel this…sensation. It’s very subtle at first, like…like a scent you can’t quite place or a sound from far away, but it’s a feeling. Inside me. In my ass and groin, mainly, like a pressure, but it starts to spread outward and grow stronger and stronger.
I’m fucking him now with my eyes closed, just shoving my drooling dick in and out, drilling this man’s ass as this sensation keeps getting more pronounced. Minutes go by and I’m having this like out-of-body experience or something, like I know I’m standing in my bedroom in my cheap L.A. apartment fucking a random pizza delivery dude with one of the most perfect asses in the known universe, but at the same time all my senses, all my emotions, everything starts to zero in on that other sensation of…like, heat. Power. Pressure. Something growing. Swelling. Becoming.
I fuck and fuck and fuck, unable to even think about stopping. My balls are on fire. My cock feels like it’s throbbing bigger with every beat of my heart, like everything inside me is tied together towards the goal of whatever this feeling is. Like perfect sex, perfect bliss, licking my brain and fucking my ass. In and out. In and out. Bigger. Bigger and bigger.
I can’t stop it now if I wanted to, and I don’t want to. It feels like the prelude to the biggest fucking orgasm I’ve ever had. Like a gallon of cum is sizzling along the fat inches of my prick, and my balls are inflating like balloons, and my muscles are throbbing and tingling and becoming swollen with strength and power.
And he just keeps saying in his rough whisper, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”
I don’t want this to end but I need it to end. It’s like edging myself to the very, very top of something new, and when I release it all hell is going to break loose, like whatever happens next, no one is in control of it, and it’s without limits or form until I let it go.
I fuck him so good. I fuck him better than anyone’s ever been fucked before.
And then I erupt.
And I can feel it happening, feel myself changing, growing, developing, evolving. I mean, I don’t know what the fuck is happening except I know it feels fucking amazing and my whole body—my bones and muscles and skin—feels electric. Empowered. Explosive.
It’s more than fucking, now. It feels better. Bigger. Like my whole body is a cock and all those sensations that travel along its thick veiny inches are spreading outwards, radiating along my thighs and belly and ass, moving into my limbs and torso, making my shoulders and neck and face and hands and feet all sizzle with that special incredible orgasmic pleasure that builds and builds and I’m coming inside this gorgeous perfect ass, I’m exploding with cum, not pumping it or thrusting it but just fucking erupting cum like some cum volcano, and I feel that sensation of coming everywhere, in every cell of skin and every follicle of hair.
I’m lost to it, this super orgasm, unable to think or feel anything but this, sinking into some blinding darkness or brightness, all-encompassing, made entirely of fuck.
I don’t know what happened then because it was just this…incredible pleasure. And, like, “pleasure” doesn’t even touch what it felt like. Or bliss, either. I mean, look in a thesaurus and gather all the words for ecstasy and cram them all together into my body and that might approximate the feeling. Drowning in gorgeous, perfect paradise.
Hen I finally come out of it—hen my cock stops shooting ropes of cum and my balls are empty and I start to come back to this world from Fuckworld—I look down at myself and fuck me, do I look amazing! Obviously I can’t see my face or my butt, but what I do see is…something beyond perfect.
Massive pecs dusted in soft, warm curls of fur. A fucking 8-pack of perfectly forms abs. My cock is still lodged inside that fat ass and as I pull free of his grasp, inch after inch after wet, warm, massive inch of prick makes its new size known. And when, with an audible pop, I pull myself free of pizza boy a flood of cum pours out of him and my dick thwacks my new 8-pack and flings cum everywhere, all the way to my lips where I lick it off and moan because it tastes like pure sex. Whatever sex tastes like, my cum tastes like that. My eyes roll back in they sockets and I swallow it eagerly and want more of whatever it is my balls are making. I wrap my hand around my massive dick and slide it up to the head, feeling intense throbs of fuck power, gathering the gooey creamy spunk into my hand and lapping it off my palm with my tongue, swallowing it like a thirsty man in a desert who just found am oasis made of cum.
Jesus, what the fuck is happening?
I hear a sound and it’s pizza boy and he’s moaning and writhing on my mattress and I watch his body changing, too. Not as dramatic as mine, but there’s certainly something happening as his back muscles slightly swell under his smooth skin and his massive ass slightly grows even larger (for my even larger dick?) and I reach down and caress that perfect ass and he groans like a bear in heat.
“You’re mine,” I say, because it’s true. His head nods against my mattress and his ass twitches.
“Fuck me,” he whispers.
You don’t have to ask me twice.
REPORT ON SERUM Z-38-F
Exec Eyes Only
Conversation recorded 19 May, 2:34pm
“What does this mean for the project?”
“I presume we have to shut it down immediately.”
“And the volunteers?”
“I mean, I don’t know! Who authorized the viral implementation in the first place?”
“That’s not my responsibility. I’m sure someone understood the ramifications of splicing in the viral load and did the necessary….”
“Regardless of the intent or adhering to rules, the facts are undeniable. Once this thing interacts with the bloodstream of someone with this specific DNA nucleotide, it starts to quickly germinate and alter those strands, which then….”
“Which then propagates into the entire genome of the effected individual. I read the same report you did.”
“But there’s something else.”
“Of course it’s viral! They made it viral!”
“It’s logically sound, using a viral load to more quickly introduce the enhancements.”
“But it becomes transmissible.”
“I see that.”
“And starts to mutate to avoid…”
“Skip to the end for me. What’s that look like?”
“Hell if I know! Hell if anyone knows! This should never have made it to human testing! It’s a disaster waiting to happen!”
“Worst case scenario?”
“We’ve already seen some fallout with Subject 25. That’s how we know this is a problem.”
“Enhancements are working as intended, but their degree is off the charts. Much, much more intense than any model forecasted.”
“So, muscle, libido, semen production…?”
“Everything is working according to original estimates as far as what is effected, but it’s the extent of those effects that are compromised, as well as certain unforeseen side effects that….”
“Side effects are expected. It’s why we test on humans.”
“But these side effects are…incredible! Unpredictable! And they’re as transmissible as the intended effects are. Here, this is his chart. And his follow-up.”
“Well, this looks very promising! Muscular development, semen production, skin elasticity, bone density, everything looks amazing. Far above our forecasts and models.”
“It’s too amazing! It’s…super human! And the follow-up looks to have been tampered with.”
“Who’s this…I can’t read the name.”
“He performed the follow-up in person. He’s disappeared.”
“What does that mean?”
“He isn’t answering his phone or emails. He hasn’t shown up for work in two weeks. Effectively, he’s disappeared.”
“And Subject 25?”
“Same. No contact. No updates. In fact, it looks like someone attempted to erase his files from the system entirely. Most likely the same man who did the follow-up, or perhaps the doctor from human resources who released him in the first place—who also happens to now be missing.”
“What do we do?”
“Put a fucking lid on it is what we do! How are the other subjects holding up?”
“None of them have that nucleotide pairing. It’s very rare. It’s an anomaly it happened at all, but I suppose it’s good that we found it now instead of later.”
“When the drug was out in the public.”
“Exactly. Who knows how much harm it would have caused?”
“All right. Shut it down.”
“And Subject 25?”
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