“What are you saying?” Brad looked at Doctor Bartell in disbelief.
“Your body seems to be producing extra testosterone, and adrenaline. You said the first time it happened was when you first started lifting weights, right?”
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with it; with….this?” He motioned toward the large bulge in the crotch of his jeans.
Dr. Bartell removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “When you pushed your body too hard, you triggered a rare condition called Pubescent Hypertrophy.”
“Annnnnd, what does that mean?”
“Well, to put it simply, your penis and genitals grow at a more accelerated rate during puberty than those of an average teenager.”
“And what causes it?”
“It's a genetic defect. The subject's body develops extra glands for testosterone, and adrenaline. Overexertion of the normal production of these hormones triggers their use. I noticed you've gained a lot of mass since last I saw you…..”
“I've been hitting the weights.”
“That's another side effect. Accelerated muscle development.”
“So, what do I do?”
“Well, if you'd come to see me earlier, we could have fixed the problem with medication. As it is, all you can do now is work out less.”
“For how long…?”
“Until puberty has run its course.”
“When will that be do ya think?”
Dr. Bartell looked through his notes, “Uhhh, you're not going to like this….”
“Just tell me how long.”
“Well….judging from the rate of growth, and hormone levels…..until you're at least 21.”
Brad's mouth fell open in disbelief, “21….!?”
“That's about the size of it….err, I mean….”
Brad shot him a look, and Dr. Bartell instantly stopped talking. “Never mind, doc”, he grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door, “Ya know somethin', doc….?”
“Puberty is a bitch!”
“Yeah, right. A big hit. At least until they see what a freak I really am. No one's gonna want anything to do with this.” He grabbed his crotch, hefting it to drive the point home.
Uncle Harold had gotten custody of Brad when his parents died. Only by default. He was Brad's only living relative, and a homosexual. Rather than deal with putting another orphan through the system, Children and Youth had let Harold take custody after months of “making sure it was an appropriate home”. When Brad came out, it had been Harold who guided him through the choppy waters of being a gay teenager in today's society. But there was nothing Harold could do to help him now.
Brad peeked out of the shower room. Everyone else was gone. Wrapping a towel haphazardly around his waist, he hurried to his locker. This had become a daily ritual, and he only had about 5 minutes to dress and get to his next class.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a familiar voice behind him. “Hey, Brad….”
Brad grabbed the towel tightly as he turned, “Hi, Coach Weis….”
“I've been meaning to talk to you. I was disappointed to see that you didn't go out for the swim team this year. Mind if I ask why?”
Uhhh, because wearing a speedo in public had suddenly become a really bad idea, Brad thought. “Well, uhhhm, I thought I'd try Track and Field this year, Coach.”
“Well, that's a good idea. But I hardly see the problem. The schedules are totally compatible.”
Shit! “I don't know, Coach. The swim team just doesn't appeal to me as much this year.”
“Well, I wish you'd reconsider. I got a lot of promising talent with the new Freshman Class. But I still need swimmers with some experience.”
“Brad had managed to get his shirt on with one hand, and step into his underwear and jeans. Now he just needed to pull them up without dropping the towel. “I, uhhh…I'll think about it, Coach….” He struggled with the towel, and pulling his pants up without dropping it.
“Brad, what in the world are you trying to do….?!”
“Coach, I'm gonna be late, I gotta….”
Hopping on one foot, and trying to hold his pants up, Brad lost his grip on all of it. His jeans and underwear fell to the floor along with the towel. Brad stood naked from the waist down in front of Coach Weis. Stunned at his own nudity, he stood red-faced as the older man's eyes fell on his 8” soft member. The man's eyes were the size of silver dollars.
“Holy SHIT, boy….!!!!” His face reddened, and he grabbed the towel from the floor. He turned his head, and offered it, stammering an apology, “I….I'm sorry…here….”
Brad hurriedly pulled up his underwear and pants. He pulled on his shoes without tying them, and grabbed the towel as an afterthought. “I….I gotta go….!”
He grabbed his backpack from the locker, and ran out of the locker room with the coach calling after him as the bell rang, “I'm sorry, Brad…….”
Brad tugged downward on the tail of his t-shirt. He managed to tuck it into his jeans, but as soon as he straightened, it came untucked. He looked in the mirror, frowning at the narrow strip of smooth skin just above the waistband. The third set of rippled abs peeked from beneath the fabric line. This couldn't possibly be good.
It had only been a few weeks since he'd seen Dr. Bartell, and he hadn't lifted a day since. Still, he apparently had grown a few inches, and gained a few pounds. Where the shirt had been loose a few weeks ago, it now stretched across his shoulders and chest to reveal the small mounds of his developing pecs and delts.
“This sucks….!”, he spoke to his reflection. He lifted the shirt over his head, and heard the sound of fabric ripping as the seam on the left shoulder tore. Tossing the shirt into the hamper, he quickly selected another. The fit wasn't much more concealing, but at least he could tuck this one in.
“What else could go wrong today?”, he asked the mirror. His reflection only stared back at him.
“wow, how big do yo think it is….?”
“i don't know, but it looks really big….!”
He felt like a bug under a microscope. Being of above average grades, somewhat athletic, and just plain nice had kept him off the radar for most of his high school days. He wasn't popular by any means, but no one bothered him either. He'd been content to lull in social limbo. However, Mother Nature had different ideas. In the past two weeks, he'd caught more than one student staring at his package; boys and girls alike. Not to mention, he'd felt hands “casually” brush various parts of his anatomy in passing.
Brad felt a hand on his shoulder, and nearly jumped out of his skin as his train of thought was broken.
“Wha….?” He whirled. dropping his books.
“Whoa, dude! Didn't mean to yank you outta La-La Land.”
Standing before him was Sam Quentin, his best friend. Sammy had been his best friend since they'd met in sixth grade. He also happened to be Brad's biggest crush. Tall and lean with a body honed by a passion for swimming, he had muscles and curves in all the right places and just the right amounts. No one looked hotter in a speedo either. With a wild mop of dark curls, sapphire blue eyes, full lips that always smiled, and a cute little nose, he'd been the object of many of Brad's jerk-off sessions. He knew Brad was gay, and how he felt. Though at the same time, his own preference was unclear.
Brad bent to retrieve his books, “Sorry, Sam. I was just….”
“….Thinking'”, he finished for Brad. “Yeah, you do that a lot.” Sam smiled his usual crooked smile as he stooped to help Brad.
“Can't help it, Sammy. Lots on my mind.”
He hadn't told Sam about his recent “developments”. He didn't want Sam to start looking at him differently too. “Oh, ya know….everything.”
“Mm-hm. Good way to avoid the question. We still on for tonight?”
“Sure. Four-o'clock, Macbeth-Act II.”
Sam stood, holding a bundle of notes, “Coolness. I don't think I could handle Shakespeare without you.”
Brad stood, taking the notes, “Oh, by the way, Stanley's gonna be there. He and Uncle Harold are making Italian tonight.”
“Awesome! Can't wait.” He looked at Brad curiously for a moment. “Dude, you gettin' taller….?”
At 6’1”, Sam was tall. And, as luck would have it, his keen eyes had noticed the new difference in height.
Brad shook his head, “Nah, new shoes.”
Sam looked down at Brad's usual pair of beat up sneakers, “Riiiight. Good one. Anyway, I gotta get to class. See ya, man.”
Brad exhaled as Sam walked away with a casual wave. That was close. He took a moment to appreciate how cute Sam's butt was. He'd seen Sam in everything from a business suit to his birthday suit, but nothing quite compared to the sight of Sammy in a speedo.
Suddenly, Brad became very aware that the front of his jeans was getting uncomfortably snug. He looked down to see it clearly through the denim, snaking slowly up toward his belt. For a moment, he panicked. Luckily, this time, the bathroom was only a few yards away. Entering the first stall, he looked down just as the head forced its way up past the braided leather. It continued up by three more inches, and stopped. He heaved a sigh of relief as he realized his fantasizing had merely brought on an erection.
The bell rang, and he quickly and painfully stuffed the throbbing monster back into his jeans. Despite multiple readjustments, he could do nothing to hide the large curve of his swollen member. He brightened, and untucked his shirt. He let it fall, and was pleased to see that the tail settled at just below hip level. It would have do. He just hoped no one was looking too hard.
Laying on his bed, he reached over to the drawer in his nightstand, taking out a bottle of lotion. Maybe doing it in private would help. Suddenly, he heard the front door open and shut. He laid on the bed, barely breathing as he waited for some indication of who it was.
Sam's voice echoed up from the bottom of the stairs, “Brad….? You home, buddy?”
'Awwww, fuck…..!', Brad thought….
Brad quickly tossed the lotion across the room where it landed with a surprisingly loud THUD. Crap! Well, at least it was out of sight. Sam's voice was more urgent at the sound of the bottle hitting the floor.
“Brad….? You here….?”
Brad grabbed a clean pair of undies and ran to the top of the stairs, leaning forward just enough that Sammy could see his face and nothing else. “I'm here, Sammy. You're early, I was just about to grab a shower.”
“Can I come up?”
Brad laughed uneasy, “Yeah, of course, sure. Just make yourself at home. I'll be done in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Uhhhm, you alright?”
Same came up the stairs, and Brad closed the bathroom door just in time. He yelled from within. “Yeah. Put some music on, if ya want.”
Luckily, the baggy shorts he'd slept in the night before were still laying on the bathroom floor. He leaned back against the door, looking down in dismay at his erect cock. “You know, you're getting to be a lot more trouble than you're worth,” he mumbled angrily at it.
The shower had taken more than a “few minutes”, stretching into a half hour as he jerked off for what seemed like an eternity. He wasn't even trying to hold back. It just seemed like his natural stamina had somehow increased by an incredible amount over night. Finally he came, and the force was unlike anything he'd ever felt. His knees went weak, and he braced himself between the wall and shower door as stream after stream of cum erupted from his dick. Getting out of the shower, he rejoyced silently as his cock began to go soft. As he pulled on the shorts, he was pleased to see the combination of tight briefs and loose shorts mostly hid his endowment.
Draping a large body towel over his shoulders to obscure his developing musculature, Brad walked back into his room. “Hey, Sammy.”
Sam looked up from the CD cover jacket he was reading. O-Zone's “Lumaiye” was playing on the stereo. “Hey, Brad. That was a long 'few minutes'.”
Brad shrugged, quickly walking to the dresser to find a suitable shirt. “I was a bit dirtier than I thought. Plus you know me, I take forever to do everything.”
Sam looked him over critically, “Have you been workin' out? You look….bigger.”
Brad pulled on a baggy shirt, “Nah, you're seein' things.” He discarded the towel, “Well, shall we get started?”
“Sure thing, man.” Sam opened his books and notebooks as Brad sighed in relief.
That was a close one.
“Geeze, Bradly, that's your fourth helping tonight. Didn't you eat at school today?”
Brad plopped a large helping of Penne Rigate on his plate and ladled a generous amount of alfredo sauce on top. “Yes, I did.”
“Yeah, you shoulda seen 'im wolf down four burgers today.”, Sam teased.
“Awww, let him eat, Harold”, Stanley said admonishingly. “He hardly ever eats at home, and he's a growing boy.”
Stanley was Harold's boyfriend of 7 years. He worked in the IT business, and raked in a heavy income. He was 35, a year younger than Harold, but didn't look a day over 20. He was tall, with a slender athletic build, sandy brown hair, and green eyes. For being over 30, Brad had to admit he was hot.
Harold looked at Brad, “That's true. More than you might think.”
Brad looked up from his meal suddenly, and discreetly nodded toward Sam, and shook his head no. It was too late.
“What's that supposed to mean….?”, Sam asked curiously.
Stanley looked at Brad, “Yeah, now that you mention it. He does look a little bigger lately. You hittin' a growth spurt, kiddo?”
God, if only they knew, Brad thought. “Maybe. My shoes're starting to pinch some.”
Harold took the opportunity to gently steer the conversation in a different direction. “Well then, it's time we get you some new ones. In fact, tomorrow's Saturday. Why don't we all go shopping. Sammy, you in….?”
Through the entire conversation, Sam had been quietly observing Brad, but he turned his attention back to everyone else upon Harold's inquiry. “Uhhhm, sure. I don't have any plans. Sounds like fun. Is it okay if I stay overnight?”
Before Brad or Harold could object, Stanley piped up. “Sure, Sammy. That way, we can all be ready and go at the same time.”
Brad and Harold exchanged looks. Brad shook his head no, but Harold only shrugged. The house rule was that once someone was invited, there was no disinviting them unless something dire came up. Brad only hoped nothing dire did come up.
After dinner, he'd given Sam a pair of gym shorts and a tank top to sleep in, and they accented his physique nicely. The tank top revealed his sinewy arms, and shoulders while the neckline displayed the crevice between his meaty pecs. The shorts clung nicely around his miniscule waist, and the fact that he preferred boxers showed in the form of a large bulge in the front of the shorts. And to make it all perfect, there wasn't a single hair on his entire body below the neck.
“What are you doing?”, Brad asked.
“Oh, just getting ready for bed”, he smiled mischieviously. He came over, sitting next to Brad. “Can I ask you something?”
Brad thought for a moment. There were a hundred things Sam could ask. He decided to risk it. “Sure. What do ya wanna to know?”
“Do you love me….?'
Brad was flabberghasted. “Sammy, what….?”
“Yes or no?”
“Well, I think you're hot as hell….”
Sam became stern, “I know that. That's not what I asked.”
“Don't avoid the question, Brad. Just tell me how you feel. Do you love me?”
Brad looked into Sam's deep blue eyes. There seemed to be a longing there. After a long moment, he answered quietly, “Yes.”
“Then….why don't you trust me?”
Brad's heart sank. He feigned ignorance. “What…what do you mean?”
Sam's expression was serious as he went on. “Brad, I love you too. I've loved you from the second I saw you. And I want to be with you….”
“Just listen. I was ready to commit to you, but something happened to you and I don't know what. You started acting weird right after your birthday. And now, it's like you're a different person.”
“Sammy, I trust you. I trust you with my life.”
“Then tell me what's going on. There's something going on in this house that only you and Harold know about. If we're going to be together, you have to trust me enough to tell me what it is.”
Brad's shoulders slumped. He opened his mouth to reply, but cut short as a tingling sensation began to spread through his crotch. The result was a small hiccupping noise as he suddenly looked downward.
He spoke breathlessly as an overwhelming feeling of pleasure consumed him. “It looks like…you're going to…find out….whether…I want you….to….or not….!”
Brad collapsed back onto the bed, unable to hold himself up under the feeling of ecstasy that engulfed him. He felt his boxer-briefs starting to fill.
Sam grew worried, “Brad…Brad, what's wrong….!?”
Brad managed to push his shorts down with his last bit of energy, “Just….watch….”
Sam sat back, and watched. He didn't notice anything at first, but before long, he saw that Brad's boxer-briefs were filling out. After his last growth spurt, Brad had been able to match Sam's 8 inch softie—something Sam hadn't known.
He was shocked. “Dude! When did you get that big….?”
Brad could only moan as the feeling intensified. Sam watched in awe as Brad's member began to swell bigger. Still soft, it inflated like a balloon, filling his boxer-briefs rapidly. His balls became larger, pushing the crotch downward.
Sam watched, entirely turned on as Brad's cock and balls bulged with size. Longer and longer, thicker and thicker it grew; his balls growing first to the size of baseballs, then softballs. His briefs were stretching tighter and tighter as the size of Brad's meat increased. It looked as if someone had hooked an air hose up to his privates and turned it on full force. Sam realized that it had to be at least 12” by now, and it wasn't even hard!
Becoming clearly visible through the cotton, Sam watched as Brad's dick snaked around inside his underwear, looking for an exit. His balls were bulging up into the front now, pushing against his cock and he could plainly see that the fabric was stretching to contain the bulging mass beneath it.
As Sam watched, he could only wonder just how big it would get….
This was unbelieveable! Brad's privates were growing more massive by the second. His boxer-briefs were so over filled that the waistband was starting to pull away from his skin.
Sammy suddenly became aware of Brad's writhing, and moaning as his junk inflated. “Brad….hey, man, snap out of it….!”, he shook Brad.
“Huuuuuh….?”, was all he got in response.
“Dude, what the fuck is happening to you…!?”
Brad moaned breathlessly as his legs spread involuntarily to accomodate his ballooning scrotum. “Soooo….big….soooo good….!”
The massive lump in Brad's underwear began to mound up while his expanding balls bulged out into the legs of his boxer-briefs. His entire package was enormous. His cock was over a foot long now and his balls were the size of large grapefruits.
Sam moved upward, maneuvering Brad into a half upright position as he shook him. “Brad, you gotta tell me what's going on! When is it gonna stop growing….!?”
“Whaaaa….?” Brad looked dazed into Sam's eyes. Something wasn't right.
Sam looked down at the sound of straining cloth. The entire front of Brad's briefs was filled, and the head had managed to poke up over the waistband. With a great swelling, the entire mass stretched the fabric to its limits. Brad grunted as the tightness of his underwear became unbareable. Seams strained, stretched, and then errupted. The inner legs of his briefs ruptured, and Brad's entire set exploded from their cotton confines.
Sam watched awestruck as a massive python of flesh flopped forth from Brad's groin. It landed between his legs, resting on top of massive pulsing balls. It was becoming ludicrously overproportioned to Brad's body, and he knew it had to stop. “He looked down at Brad, smacking him; a bit harder than he'd intended. Brad came slightly out of his daze.
“Brad, man, how do I stop it? it's getting gigantic…..!”
Brad looked lost for a second, then heaved an answer, “You have…to make….me….cum….! It won't….stop….until….I do….”
If there was one thing he knew he could do, it was turn Brad on. However, the thought of Brad's dick getting hard while still growing was just plain frightening. He gulped, and looked down. it was slithering along the bed, now extending past his knees.
“I can't man! I'm afraid it's gonna rupture or something…!”
“As it…gets hard….it'll….stop….” His head lulled back and he was still.
Well, it was now or never. Sam lifted Brad's shirt over his head, discarding it to the floor. He knew just what to do. He began gently caressing Brad's chest. He kneeled over Brad's waist, and bent down. He began tenderly covering Brad's entire torso with kisses, tantalizing Brad's hard nipples with the tip of his tongue. He was amazed to see how defined Brad had become. No doubt somehow connected with this whole thing.
Brad began to squirm, and moan, and Sam felt something rub against his leg. Looking down, he saw that Brad's inflating member was getting hard. He repositioned to Brad's side for a better view as he worked, running his hands affectionately down over Brad's body. Mesmerized, he watched it thicken and lengthen. Starting at the base, it pumped full of blood, and began to raise from the bed. He could see that the unnatural growth had stopped, but the erection that was rapidly springing forth was even more alarming and arousing.
Longer and longer it grew, rising into the air as it stiffened. Thicker and thicker it grew, its girth quickly reaching and surpassing the size of a soda can. He watched as the mighty appendage extended, and rose. It was too heavy to stand straight up, but it tried none the less. It finally mast, standing proudly and defiantly. It was monstrous, nearly the length of Brad's leg. Sam closed a hand around its girth, finding that his fingers didn't touch.
He looked up at it with a mix of awe and fear. Finally, abandoning all reservation, he began running his tongue over its length. He knew he could never hope to take any of the beast in his mouth, but there were other way to make a guy cum. He ran both hands up and down the mighty shaft, working gently but furiously to make Brad cum.
After about 45 minutes, Sam felt he'd been working for hours when it started to throb. Brad suddenly sat upright, totally lucid, “Sammy, watch out….!”
With a mighty force, Brad's enormous erection exploded a massive stream of cum into the air. Sam ducked, missing the first shot only to get hit in the chest by the second. It was warm, and flowed forth in a great stream as Brad's back arched spasmodically. For a good five minutes, Brad came incessantly and uncontrollably while Sam attempted to avoid getting hit.
Finally, Brad collapsed back on the bed, his member slowly deflating. He lay on the bed, and Sam removed his shirt; climbing up to lay next to him. He looked at Brad, “How….? What….? I mean, what in the hell….?”
Brad placed a finger on Sam's lips, smiling weakly. “I can explain it to you later. Just know that I'm glad you were here to stop it.”
Some time later they lay with to each other, Brad in Sam's arms, Sam stroking Brad's chest and stomach gently. He noticed that the muscles of Brad's torso were more defined, and he felt bigger too. He looked down at Brad's cock which lay like a sleeping beast between his thicker legs. It was soft again, but noticeably longer than before the growth. He shuddered to think what might have happened if it had started growing while Brad was asleep. He heard Brad's light snoring, and the sound of the clothes washer going down the hall. He could only wonder what was going to happen next. He knew things were going to be very different for awhile. But how different he was unsure….
This was annoying. Brad shifted in his chair. It was getting worse. He'd just caught Tina Burkowitcz staring for the third time this period. After Friday night with Sam, his package had gotten big enough to show no matter what type of pants he wore. And people were starting to notice.
Sammy. He'd been very….intrigued by Brad's explanation.
“…So, you're telling me that you're….'developing' faster than the rest of us?”
“That's what I said.”
What's causing it?”
Well, Dr. Bartell says it's basically an excess of growth hormones during puberty.”
“Right, right, I got that. But….how? From what I've seen, no one else in your family has it. So what caused it to start?”
“Apparently, it's triggered when the body is pushed too hard during physical activities. Fitness, work, sports, whatever.”
“Oooooh, I get it. It happened when you were working out, right? Makes sense. Your dad never worked out, and your uncle only lifts to stay in shape. You were lifting to bulk up, and overdid it, right? Tried too much weight….?'
Sam's intuition caught him off guard. “How'd you know that?”
“C'mon, Brad. I know you. If there's one thing you want, it's not to be the skinny geeky kid. That's why you joined the swim team last year.”
“Well, Dr. Bartell says I have to lift as little as possible, if at all. And I did. But it keeps happening.”
Sam clapped a hand on Brad's shoulder. “Well, for what it's worth, I feel lucky. Not every queer gets to have a stud for a boyfriend in high school.”
Brad shot him a look. “I never wanted to be a stud, I just wanted to be built. Now I'm turning into a freak!”
Sam's demeanor took on a gentler tone at Brad's anger. “Okay, okay, Brad. I promise you, I'll be here for ya. Whatever I can do to help ya through this, I'll do.”
That had been Sam's promise, but he couldn't think of a thing Sam could do to help him.
The bell rang, and everyone in the room began to file out. As Brad gathered his books, Tina walked by and dropped a note discreetly on his desk with a wink. As he walked down the hall to his next class, he opened the paper and read it:
Call me sometime If you ever want to hang out.
Across the bottom of the note was her phone number in big red numbers. Apparently, she either didn't know or didn't care that he was gay. He'd heard rumors that she liked to fuck any guy with a big dick. The numbers he'd heard were close to twenty, but he assumed it to be an exaggeration. Either way, it didn't matter.
He'd put a full length mirror on his closet door when he got his weight set so he could admire his progress, and he looked into it now. He looked at the lump in the front of his jeans and how much room it not occupied. He frowned. Is this what girls and gay men really wanted? Well, maybe. He turned sideways, and saw how the front of his jeans curved out when he smoothed the sides back. He had to admit, it looked kinda sexy.
He took off his glasses. Maybe he was cute in a dorky kind of way. His eyes were a warm brown that rarely showed from behind his glasses. His golden-brown hair was thick and shiny. It needed a cut and a comb, but it was nice. The sudden shift in hormones had eaten away all the baby fat from his face to reveal decent bone structure beneath. Okay. Maybe he wasn't a total troll.
He removed his shirt, baring his hairless torso. That was one thing he'd considered a blessing. He'd never found hairy men visually appealing, and was glad that he had been blessed with the “smooth” genes. He ran his hand down over his chest and abs, noting the movement of muscle beneath the skin. He'd developed just enough that not an ounce of bone showed through the skin any more. It looked kinda nice.
To his utter astonishment, he felt his cock start to stiffen. His erection grew quickly, and he watched as it began to lengthen. One inch, two inches, three inches, four inches, five inches, growing in girth as it pushed upward. The head was swollen, visible through the denim as it crept upward toward his belt line. He had never actually watched his cock get hard, but at its current size, it did look pretty cool to see. It pushed against his belt for a few moments, and finally popped up over, coming to just under his navel. Had he just turned himself on….!? Brad couldn't believe what had just happened. That wasn't like him.
Shooing the thought away, he undid his belt buckle and pants, letting them fall to his ankles. As they fell below his hips, hic erect manhood immediately sprang outward, effortlessly pushing the waistband of his boxer-briefs away from his body. Now that, he thought to himself, was pretty cool. He pushed his underwear off, and sat on the bed, resting an elbow on one knee. He gripped his throbbing member, noticing that he couldn't get his hand entirely around it any more. He began to think of Sam as he jerked his meat. Sam was the hottest guy he knew, or had ever seen. Even the big buff guys at school couldn't hold a candle to Sammy when it cam to sheer sexiness.
He imagined Sam jerking him off again; this time for fun. The thought sent him spiraling into his fantasy world where only he and Sammy existed. Minute after minute went by as he imagined himself making love to the man of his dreams over and over again. Finally, he felt the pressure of imminent release rising. He looked at the clock. 5:05 it read. His stamina was still increasing, too. Suddenly, without warning, he shot. A thick stream of cum erupted from the head of his dick, and splattered on the mirror across from him. He convulsed, and it came again with more force. Falling back on the bed as a third orgasm rocked his body, another stream shot into the air, and stuck to the ceiling. It continued for about 7 minutes until he was finally spent.
He rose from the bed weakly, looking for a towel. As he stood, his cock suddenly bobbed on its own. A tingling feeling filled his cock and balls. he knew this feeling, but it was different somehow. As he looked down in alarm, he saw that his still erect rod was beginning to extend. He watched as it grew further. One inch, two inches, three inches, then stopped. It now stood defiantly at 13 inches straight out from his body. he looked in the mirror. Cumming had made it grow. Now what the fuck was he going to do….?
Sam walked down the hall, looking for Brad. He wasn't as easy to spot these days. He'd become used to looking for someone of shorter stature, staring at their feet as they walked. Nowadays, Brad stood even with most any other guy in height, and he was often looking about nervously for what he called “eye-ballers”. eye-ballers were the people Brad felt were watching him, certain he was becoming a freak. What it really was was people were taking notice of what Sam had known all along.
Why couldn't Brad see how freakin' hot he was? Those warm brown eyes masked with glasses; thick, lustrous hair that looked good even in the morning; and a spectacular little swimmer's bod he kept hidden under baggy clothes. Even before “the change”, he'd been the kindest, sweetest, most adorable guy Sam had ever known. Innocent and pure to the very soul, he'd been Sam's wet dream since the day they'd met. And now…..well, he was getting even hotter! Ah, there he was; looking nervous as always.
“Hey, man. Where ya been all morning?” Okay, why's he carrying a gym bag today….?
“Uhhh, hi, Sammy.”
Uh-oh, something happened. “What's up? Ya seem more nervous than usual. And what's with the gym bag?”
“Something weird happened….”
“Weirder than…ya know….?” Sam nodded down toward Brad's nether region.
Brad moved his gym bag to the side to reveal a large protrusion in the front of his cargo pants.
“Holy shit, Brad….”
Brad waved his hands, “Shhh…!”, Brad whispered. “C'mon, this is serious. it's getting outta hand….!”
Brad fixed Sam with a look, “Sammy, c'mon.”
“Okay, okay. What happened?”
Brad moved in closer, speaking low as if divulging top secret info. “I was jerkin' off yesterday, right….?”
“ANd everything is normal. Well, as normal as possible…”
“And, after I came, it grew more!”
Oh, God, this is too much to bear. The thought of him wankin' it is hot enough. But the thought of his erection gettin' bigger….
“Really? Geeze, what in the hell were you thinkin' about….!?”
“Uhhh, I don't remember. But it really scared me.”
“Well, is everything still….alright?”
“okay, tell ya what. I'll come over tonight and we can…I don't know, figure somethin' out. Okay?”
Big hug. Wow, public affection. He's getting less and less shy. Not that I mind.
“See ya in third period, Sammy.”
“Okay, Brad. Just remember, stay calm.” That seemed to make him feel better. Now, if I can only get to class without anyone noticing my growth spurt….
“Don't call me that, Mark.”
Markus Trianno, one of the hottest guys in school. Also notoriously gay.Sam had to admit, he had it in all the right places….and he knew it. He was tall, and worked out a lot. Smoldering Italian good looks, a bod that makes boys and girls alike drool, and a huge basket that he showed off in second-skin jeans. He made a killing with an amateur modeling gig. He'd been hitting on Sam all year, and he was nice enough. But Sam only had eyes for Brad.
Markus pouted his full, already-pouty lips. “Oh, why not? I thought we were friends.”
“We are, but no one except my parents calls me 'Sammy'.”
“And Bradly”, Markus corrected.
Smartass! “What do you want, Markus?”
“I was wondering if you could help me out with a date.”
“Markus, I told you, I'm not interested. You're sweet and all, but….”
“Oh, not with you.”
“Who with, then….?”
Markus favored Sam with a smile that must surely melt other little femme-boys at his feet before going on. “With Bradly. You're his best friend, right….?”
Oh no, he did not just… “Why Brad?”
“Lets just say I'm….curious.”
Markus put a tone in the last word that suggested many things, but Sam knew immediately what he meant. He'd noticed what everyone had. Brad was getting hotter by the day. Not to mention Brad had to have close to the biggest dick in school now; a fact more and more people were noticing, to Brad's increasing chagrin. “Well Markus, I would, if I thought he'd be interested.”
The look on Markus' face was priceless. “If he were interested….!? Why wouldn't he be? Look at me, I'm more than he could handle!”
Sam's reply was smooth, “Actually, I think it would be the other way around.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, Markus. Just forget it. You're hot as hell, yeah. But Brad wouldn't be interested because he's not all about looks and body like you.”
Markus looked insulted. “I'm not all about looks and body! And at least he'd gain some popularity points if he went out with me!”
Sam's face reddened with anger. “Okay, now you're just being obnoxious. Ya wanna know the truth? Brad wouldn't date you because you're not his type. Besides, he's spoken for!”
Markus snorted, “Oh right, by whom….?”
Sam was infuriated by Markus' ignorance as he shouted one word, “ME….!”
He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily as he felt his meat swelling inside his cargos. He hadn't had a growth spurt since the night Sam had stayed over, but he didn't want to take any chances. He only hoped what happened yesterday was a one time thing. He looked down. The increased length and girth of his cock, combined with being straight as an arrow, had made it extremely powerful.
With morbid fascination, he stood watching as the head began to show through the sturdy fabric. He'd cinched his belt extra tight this morning, just in case, and it was a good thing he did. As the head came to his belt line, it stopped extending upward, and the shaft began to bow outward. Even through the added restraint of two extra pairs of boxer-briefs, the mighty appendage forced the front of his pants to tent in an outward curve.
It occured to him that this should feel painful, but he was surprised to discover that it barely registered. Each beat of his heart forced more blood into his penis, exerting more and more force on his pants. To Brad's horror, he found that it actually felt….good. Like a caged beast, the head was pushing upward against his belt with more force as the shaft pushed the front of his pants out to the point that he could feel them pulling snug against his butt. The door to the restroom swung open, and Brad panicked as he heard footsteps.
In walked Markus Trianno. looking around as if expecting to find something or someone. Upon seeing Brad, he only smiled as he looked down to the front of Brad's pants. “Hey. Need some help with that….?”
Brad was speechless, looking like a deer in the headlights. He began to stammer until the sound of straining fabric filled the air. He looked down in horror once again as Markus' grin broadened. With a massive burst, the zipper of his cargo pants split open. A massive lump of throbbing red cotton forced its way out from the cloth casm. The lump pushed insistently further and further out as the red tore away to blue. The blue quickly peeled away to gray, which stretched to great length in a feeble effort to contain Brad's rod.
With a satisfying tear, the last layer gave out. With an exit and no restraint, the head of Brad's cock dislodged from underneath his belt and flopped out of his open zipper. It stuck straight out from his body at 15”, bobbing like a fishing pole that had a bite. Markus moved forward still smiling as Brad could only watch, paralyzed with fear….
Brad looked at Markus with an expression of horror, then down at his rod which had just freed itself rather dramatically.
Markus took a step forward, a lecherous tone in his voice, “So, it's true! Who'd have guessed little Bradly was packin'….?”
Brad took a cautious step backward, “What do you want….?”
Markus snorted derisively. “I saw you run in here in a hurry. You've been doing that a lot lately. Wondered what you were….up to.”
Brad kept inching backward. “You…you've been spying on me….?”, he stammered.
Markus waved a hand, “Oh, 'spying' is such an ugly word. Call it 'curious observation'.”
“What do you want?”
“There've been some interesting rumors going around about you, Bradly. Seems you're all the talk with the girls lately. I just wanted to see if the rumors were true.”
Brad was disgusted. First the incident with Coach Weis, then Tina hitting on him, and now Markus stalking him. He'd always thought Markus was hot, but he never gave Brad the time of day. Sammy had told him that Markus wasn't worth his time. Now he knew why.
Brad tried bravado, “Well now you know. You can leave me alone now.”
Markus' expression was one of mock hurt, “Bradly, I'm hurt. I thought you wanted me….”
Brad felt his back come into contact with the wall, and he swore to himself. There was only one way out of the bathroom, and Markus was blocking it.
“Not any more. I'm taken.”
With that, Markus burst into hysterical laughter. “Yeah, so I heard. You and Sammy, what a cute couple. I wondered what it was about a little fag like you that interested him.”
Brad stood his ground. He was prepared to fight his way out, even though he knew Markus was a great deal stronger. He may be gay, but he practiced martial arts, and could probably bench Brad's weight. Brad stood his ground.
“I'm leaving….” Fear had rendered his erection null and void, but it was still long and thick; swinging wildly as he tried to walk fearlessly past his captor. Markus moved with the speed of a striking rattlesnake.
Markus put a hand on Brad's chest, and shoved him backwards into the wall. “I'm not done with you yet….!”
Brad tripped over his discarded gym bag, and fell to the floor in a heap. As he hit the tiled floor, he resigned himself to his fate…whatever it may be. He'd tried.
Markus shouted down at Brad. “Who the fuck do you think you are, trying to walk away from me like that!? What, I'm not good enough for you any more? You think you're hot shit 'cause everyone knows you're hung now….!?”
Brad was half dazed from his collision with the floor as he mumbled, and tears trickled down his cheeks, “No…it's not like that….”
Suddenly, Markus expression returned to its lustful state. “Oh, I get it. You want me to earn it, right….?”
“What the fuck are you talkin' about?”
“I never gave you a second glance before, so now you want me to give you what you want. Well, I'm not above giving to get….”
Markus stood, and turned his back to Brad. He wore the common fashion; a silken crimson leisure shirt with a red tribal design over a black fit t-shirt. He looked over his shoulder at Brad sitting slumped on the floor.
“I know what you wanna see….”
As Brad could only watch in utter confusion, Markus began to slowly slide the over shirt down over his broad shoulders. “Markus….what're you doing….?”
Markus smiled over his shoulder at Brad, “I'm giving you what you want.”
Suddenly, everything fell into place. He'd often had daydreams in class about watching Markus strip. And though he hadn't told even Sam about it, Markus seemed to know exactly what was in his head.
Markus straightened his arms at his sides, and allowed the over shirt to fall. “This what you want, Bradly….?'
Brad tried not to watch, but his affinity for a nicely sculpted male body got the better of him. The shirt wasn't a tee at all, rather it was a sleeveless muscle shirt. Markus' back was wide, tapering to what had to be a mere 29 or 30 inch waist. His lats formed two great wings on either side, and every muscle showed through the oddly iridescent fabric.
Markus hit a lat spread, and Brad watched as the shirt formed a multitude of stretch wrikles under the strain. “I work hard on my body, Bradly. Don't you want this….?”
“N…no”, Brad lied.
Markus grinned wider, “No….? Hmmmm, maybe this….”
He turned his profile to Bradly, doing a side-bicep flex. Markus' bare deltoid seemd to explode from the armhole of the shirt, each head almost painfully visible beneath the smooth dark skin. A softball-sized mound burst from Markus' upper arm as the thick, sinewy strands of muscle in his forearm rippled to steely life.
“This is what a real man's arm looks like, Bradly”, Markus intoned. “Not those little swimmer's arms like Sammy. I know this is what you want….”
Brad's ire was roused at the insult to Sam's physique, but he couldn't take his eyes off Markus' display.
Markus walked forward, crouching in front of Brad. “Ready for more….?”
“No, please don't…” Brad pleaded half-heartedly.
“Don't what? This….?” With one fluid motion, Markus drew the muscle shirt over his head, and tossed it behind him.
Brad tried to look away again, but Markus was so close now that he could feel the heat of his body. The temptation was too great, and he slowly turned to look at Markus' bared torso.
Markus leered in triumph, “Yeah, that's a good boy….”
Brad could only mouth the word, “Whoah….!”
If Markus' back was exquisite, then his front was immacualte. His pecs jutted out a good 2 or 3 inches from his chest. Rounded and plump, each was tipped by a dark dime-sized nipple. His abs were a cobbled eight-pack. Brick-like and rippled, they were perfectly symmetrical. His obliques peeked in from either side making a natural arrow with his abs that seemed to point toward the large bulge in the nether-region of Markus' jeans. The entire thing was wrapped in the smooth flawless cover of Markus' dark Italian skin. Brad realized to his chagrin that his cock was starting to stiffen again. It grew faster than ever before, and he felt the head suddenly come into contact with Markus' rippling stomach.
Markus looked down, “Well, seems you like what you see.”
“No, it's…Sammy. I want Sammy….!” He knew it sounded desperate, but he was helpless against Markus' raw sex appeal.
Markus kneeled over Brad's thighs, allowing Brad's enlarged member to rest against his stomach. At the feel of Markus' washboard abs and warm skin, Brad was dismayed to feel his overgrown cock buck and throb. “Your cock says you want me…”, Markus cooed in a velvety tone.
Brad could no longer resist, and raised a hand tentatively toward Markus' body.
Markus smiled at the gesture. “Go ahead. You can touch”, he said coyly.
Brad's hands instantly went to Markus' chest, feeling the firm mounds of muscle beneath warm skin. He gasped suddenly as he felt Markus gently grasp his dick. He moaned, the heightened sensitivity to touch his cock had gained making itself plainly clear in his mind. He groped Markus more fervently as Markus began to gently stroke his cock. Markus moved in, enjoying the feel of Brad's soft hands.
“I had no idea you were so passionate”, he cooed. He began to nuzzle Brad just below the ear, and felt Brad's posture relax. He smiled. 'As good as mine', Markus thought to himself.
Lost in lust and passion, neither one heard the bathroom door open. With a loud exclamation, Markus was suddenly lifted off Brad, and hurled into the opposite wall. He hit hard, the muscles in his back making a solid THUD as he collided with the ceramic tiled barrier. He slid to the floor, dazed and in a great deal of pain. He looked up to see who his assailant was.
“GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!!!!“, Sam shouted.
Sam's voice had snapped Brad out of his daze, and he looked up in a panic, “Sammy….!?”
Sam turned to Brad, an expression of pure concern etched into his face. “Brad, did he hurt you….!?”
Brad didn't know how to answer that, only stuttering, “Wh..What….!?”
Sam looked him over for a few seconds to make sure he hadn't been bound or restrained in any way. He quickly scooped Brad into his arms, and stood. Markus' head finally cleared, and he had the distinct impression that his physical well being was in danger as he found himself looking up at Sam.
“What….What're you going to do….?”
Sam glared down at him for a few moments, “I'll deal with you later, motherfucker….!” He knelt, and grabbed Markus' over shirt from the floor, draping it over Brad's exposed rod.
“Hey, that's mine, dickhead!”, Markus protested.
Sam kicked his legs out from underneath him as he tried to get up. “Too bad, asshole, I'm takin' it. You might get it back!”
As Markus lay on the floor in a heap, Sam exited with Brad in his arms….
Brad stood in the shower. He turned around, allowing the stream from the showerhead to wash directly over his face as if it could wash away the feelings that churned inside him. No such luck. He rinsed one last time, and turned off the water.
Sam sat on the bed in Brad's room as Brad came in wearing a pair of teal boxer-briefs. Brad's stride had an odd gait, still unused to the size of his dick and the way it felt between his leg when he walked around. He stood in the doorway, watching Sam study. He didn't deserve a guy like Sam. Not after he'd almost cheated with Markus Trianno.
Sam looked up, and a bright smile illuminated his face and the room. “Hey, cutie, how was your shower? Feel better?”
Sammy had actually taken to staying over at Brad's quite a bit. His own parents disapproved of his choice of lifestyles, and didn't seem to care if Sam was there or not.
“A little”, Brad said.
Sam frowned, “Something wrong?”
It had been a week since Markus had tried to seduce him, and he still didn't feel any less guilty about almost giving in. “Sammy, can we talk?”
Sam looked serious, and closed his text books. “Sure, Brad. This about Markus?”
Sweet, wonderful Sammy; always knew him so well. “Yeah.”
“Okay then, lets talk.”
Brad sat down on the bed next to Sam. “Sammy, I don't completely understand what's going on with my body, but it's starting to get bad.”
Sam playfully put a hand on Brad's swollen chest. “Oh, I don't know if it's necessarily a 'bad' thing.”
Brad looked down at his torso for a moment. He'd gained more mass, and his muscles now stood out with noticeable definition. He'd grown an inch or two more too, standing exactly eye level with Sam. But none of it compared to his overly developed rod.
He gently pushed Sam's hand away. “I mean it, Sam. And it's getting to me.”
“Well what do you mean, exactly?”
“A lot of things. I think about guys and sex all the time. I never know when I'm gonna get an erection, or if it might rip through the front of my pants in front of everyone! And when I'm turned on, I can't seem to control myself any more.”
Sam smiled with a shrug. “Brad, that's mostly all part of puberty. Well, for a gay kid anyway. You just have a few more….'gifts'.”
“And what about the control thing?”
Sam leaned back on his elbows, “Well, I'm not sure. You're gonna have to be more detailed.”
Brad closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before going on. “You know most of what happened with Markus, and it's all a little fuzzy after a certain point…”
“Okay, go on….”
“But one thing I remember is wanting it. When he was sitting on top of me with his shirt off, I wanted him. And I was completely willing to give him what he wanted to have him, even if it meant betraying you.”
“So, you're afraid what's goin' on with your body chemistry is going to make you cheat on me….?”
Sam began to laugh. “Brad, that's ridiculous!”
Brad stammered, caught off guard by Sam's reaction, “Wha…what?”
Sam sobered, “Brad, Markus wanted you. He just asked me earlier that day to fix him up with you. He's a slut and a cock whore. He goes after any cute guy with a big dick….”
“You mean, you knew what was going on….!?”
“Yeah. I was looking for you to warn you about him when I found you in the bathroom.”
“Yep. So don't worry, you don't have any 'magical' allure that's drawing people to you. Well, at least nothing beyond your normal charm and great personality.”
“Wait, I don't understand”, Brad said with confusion on his face.
Sam put a hand on either of Brad's shoulders. “Okay, Brad, I'm gonna give it to ya straight, okay….?'
Brad nodded, “Okay…”
“You're one of the cutest guys in school, and I'm not the only one that thinks so. What you've noticed lately? People checking you out? Staring at you? That's been going on all along.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The only reason no one's made a move is because they all know I've had the hots for you since we met. That, and I'd kick their asses if they did. The only reason you haven't seen it is because you were too busy bein' down on yourself.”
“You…you don't know what you're talking about….!”
“Yes I do. The girls don't bother because they all know you're gay. But you're really popular amongst the queers. And now that you're changing, everyone's taking notice even more. Markus has had a crush on you since you two were in sixth grade, though he'd never admit it.”
“Are you serious….?”
“Yes! I can only imagine how fuckin' horny it made him when things started to really get noticeable! He probably couldn't take it any more, so he tried that little stunt last week. Too bad for him.”
Brad's mind was reeling. Could Sam really be right? Had he just convinced himself that he was undesirable? Was it all just some mental block he'd developed? He looked into the mirror on his closet door. He saw the reflection of a slender young athlete.
Messy wet, sandy brown hair drooped into his blue eyes which shown brightly without his glasses. His chest was definitely bigger than before, and his abs now formed a beautifully symmetrical eight-pack. His arms and legs were long and sinewy. Although not huge, a near complete lack of body fat made everything stand out in bold relief. In the mirror, Sam's reflection came into view as he slid his arms around Brad's waist.
He rested his chin on Brad's shoulder and smiled as he stroked one hand up and down over Brad's chest and stomach. “And just think, you're only gonna get even hotter”, he murmured into Brad's ear.
Brad couldn't believe what he saw in the mirror. Goosebumps tingled to life along his arms at the feel of Sam's soft caress. Sam nuzzled him gently behind the ear, and he closed his eyes. He allowed his neck to relax and his head lolled back as Sam's kisses traveled down over his shoulder.
His voice was soft, “Oh, Sammy….that feels so good….”
Sam's voice was husky, “So….lean back and let me show you how it's done….”
Brad leaned back into Sam's body. Sam had removed his shirt, and Brad felt the warm caress of Sam's smooth skin against his own. Sam's torso was thick and ripped from his passion for swimming, and Brad reveled in the feel of muscle against his back. As Sam's hands wandered downward, Brad felt the swelling mass of Sam's erection pushing insistently harder against his lower back. Sam was hung, but no longer the bigger of the two as Sam was about to find out.
Sam looked down with a smile, marveling at the sheer size of Brad's cock as it ballooned. Brad now packed about 9” soft, but that was only the beginning. That nine inches swiftly stiffened, filling and stretching the teal cotton of the boxer-briefs as it pushed straight out from his groin. It began to lengthen, growing longer and longer, and longer. 10 inches, 11 inches, 12 inches, 13, 14, 15, growing thicker with every inch. Brad began to squirm as his briefs began to strain, trying to contain the mighty appendage. Brad's member bucked and throbbed wildly against its fabric prison as it continued to swell, 16 inches, 17….
Finally, with a loud rip, Brad's dick freed itself. Straightening, it swung upward to slap against his stomach with the sudden release of pressure. Sam admired its beauty. Eighteen inches of manhood, 6” around at least, meaty, and straight as an arrow. Brad smiled as he looked down. It really was impressive.
Sam caressed Brad's member, causing it to throb vigorously, and making Brad squirm against him with a loud gasp. “Well, I can see it's gotten even more sensitive.”
Suddenly, Brad sat bolt upright as a tingling sensation filled his privates. “Oh no….!” They both looked down as Brad's erect cock began to slowly grow longer.
“Holy shit!”, Sam exclaimed.
“Brad looked at him and only smiled, “I wondered what would happen if I got a hard-on then had a growth spurt….”
Sam watched with a smile as it continued to grow; 19 inches, 20 inches, 21 inches, “Well, I guess we're gonna find out just how much I can take….!
Sam yawned, and placed his gymbag in his locker. Brad had kept him up late the past few nights. Ever since their discussion about Brad's perception of himself, he'd become increasingly affectionate at home. It was as if something had been unleashed within Brad, and he made love with a fiery passion that consumed them both. He was an animal in bed, and last night had taken the cake with five times before Brad reached exhaustion. But things at school still hadn't changed.
As Sam pulled his school-issued, bright blue speedo up over his thighs, he looked around for Brad. Late as always. Sam walked through the locker room to the showers where the door to the indoor pool was. He opened the door, and slung his towel over his shoulder. As he walked past the other guys, he ignored the stares he got. He was used to it. Years of swimming, combined with a good set of equipment and a smooth bod, made him a dazzling sight in a speedo. Most of the boys envied or desired him. But no one made him feel more appreciated, more wanted than Brad did. He just wished he could make Brad feel the same.
Coach Weis blew his whistle to quiet everyone. “Okay, guys, listen up. Today's an easy lesson. We're doing the back stroke and breast stroke.”
Everyone groaned. The jocks, fit as they were, weren't built for this kind of sport. However, Sam loved it. The door from the shower room creaked open, and everyone looked to see Brad walk in. he was wearing an oversized t-shirt and an enormous towel wrapped around his waist. As he walked, Sam noted an odd wobble to his stride.
With his head down, Brad handed a slip of paper to Coach Weis. “Here, it's a late pass from the hall monitor.”
The coach eyed him suspiciously, “Glad you could join us, Brad. We're doing back stroke and breast stroke today. And unless you plan on taking a non-participation today, lose the shirt and towel.”
Suddenly, it hit Sam that this was Brad's first swimming session since the changes had started. He held his breath in anticipation.
Slowly, Brad grasped the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, and hanging it on a nearby safety rail. As he moved, the ripple of muscles throughout his back only emphasized the increased width of his upper torso in stark contrast to his miniscule waist. Tauntingly, some of the other guys started to whistle.
“Knock it off, ladies!”, Weis snapped. “Now the towel, Brad, we don't have all day. And turn around, for pity's sake! We're all guys here, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Brad's shoulders slumped, and a nearly inaudible sigh escaped him as he removed the towel and hung it next to the shirt. Slowly, uncertainly, Brad turned around. A gasp suddenly swept through the other guys, and Sam smiled tightly to himself. Yeah, boys, get a load of that!
At some point today, Brad must have endured another growth spurt. A big one! His neck was nearly as thick as his head, and sloped down to meet a high pair of traps. His delts were beautifully defined, each head visible. His pecs jutted out at least an inch and a half now, and his eight-pack looked to be symmetrically etched in granite also having increased in breadth. His formerly long, lithe arms were now swollen thick with bulky muscle and starting to show signs of intricate veining. As Sam moved his eyes downward, he understood the reason for Brad's odd stride. His quads now showed individually with solid definition, curving outward from his narrow hips and flowing gracefully into the subtle diamond shape of his calves. But the main attraction was the bright blue speedo. The front bulged out mouth-wateringly, stretched packed, and filled to almost overflowing by Brad's enormous endowment. So much so that the waistband was pulled down to reveal a bit of the lowest pair of his eight-pack.
Sam looked over the other guys to see that not one among them seemed to be able to settle their gaze on any one part of Brad's anatomy. As the silence continued, Brad tried futilely to cover himself which only succeeded in causing his pecs and arms to ripple and flex.
“What're you all staring at….!?”, Brad yelled as his face reddened.
Pete, one of the school's lesser football players, spoke up. “Holy crap, Brad, you been workin' out….!?”
Brad's face grew a deeper red, “Yeah, a little….”
One of the soccer players spoke next, “A 'little'? Dude, your quads're bigger'n mine!”
Brad was about to say something when the coach blew his whistle again. “Okay, ladies, you can trade workout tips later. For now, everyone in the pool. Twenty laps to warm up.”
All through the class, Sam watched. Brad had been a top notch swimmer before, but now he moved with a speed and grace that left even Sam in his wake. Of course, some of it had to do with the fact that everyone kept watching Brad for a peek at his incredible bod. Sam could only smile.
Afterward, in the shower room, Sam stood next to Brad. Every time Brad dared to glance around, other eyes flitted away quickly. Finally, Brad's eyes met with Pete's, and Pete looked away too late. He looked over to Sam questioningly who only smiled and winked as he continued to wash himself.
As Brad and Sam came out of the showers, Coach Weis was waiting for them.
“Um, Brad, can I talk to you in my office?”
“Uh, okay”, Brad said uncertainly.
Sam gave him a discreet pat on the butt as he went past, “I'll wait for you in the hall.”
Brad followed the coach into his office, shutting the door behind himself as Weis sat down behind his desk. “Am I in trouble? If this is about me being late again, I promise….”
Weis waved a hand dismissively, “No, no, nothing's wrong. At least, not really.”
Brad shrugged, causing his pecs to bounce slightly, “Then what….?”
“First, I'd like to apologize for what happened a few weeks ago. I feel terrible.”
Brad looked away timidly, recalling accidentally exposing himself to Coach Weis. “It's okay. I was just embarrassed. No big deal.”
The coach shook his head and chuckled, “Right, no big deal. I can see that puberty has been quite….'generous', shall we say? However, I can foresee an obscenity problem.”
Brad turned red with discomfort, “Yes, sir. I can't help it.” he motioned toward his overly taxed speedo, “This is my suit from last year.”
“I understand, Brad.” He opened the lowest drawer in his desk to retrieve a cellophane-wrapped package, and tossed it to Brad. “Try that on. It's the size we give to our 'larger' Senior Varsity swimmers. You can use my bathroom over there.” He pointed to a door on Brad's right.
Brad nodded, and did as he was told. After a few minutes, he emerged in the larger swim apparel. The waistband wasn't as snug any more, but everything else was still just as tight. “Umm, I don't think it's gonna work, Coach.”
The coach looked him over thoughtfully for a few moments until his expression brightened. “I have an idea, try'em on at the same time.”
Again, Brad did as he was told. He stood before Weis with a hopeful expression, “Well? What do you think?”
Coach looked him over again. The double layer of spandex could do nothing to hide the size of Brad's enormous proportions, but at least it obscured it a bit. “That should do the trick, Brad. I know it's not comfortable….bein' so big and all. But it'll have to do until I can get you a special suit.”
“Thanks, Coach.” he turned to leave, but paused a moment before exiting the office. “Ummm, Coach….?”
“Just out of curiosity, what size exactly do the 'bigger' Senior Varsity swimmers wear….?”
Coach Weis' expression was bemused, “Young adult men's 2-X-L, Brad….”
Brad gave Sam a dark glance. “I don't think it was a stockpile. He said there could be an obscenity problem. He probably keeps a few on hand just in case.”
Sam couldn't help but chuckle, “Yeah, in case some of his students suddenly become total studs….”
Brad shoved Sam playfully. “Cut it out, Sammy. It's not funny….!”
Sam looked Brad over appreciatively. He'd definitely gotten bigger all over. Despite the looseness of it, the shirt draped over the breadth of his chest and shoulders now, showcasing them beautifully. The denim of his jeans lovingly hugged every curve and bulge with little or no slack, from the roundness of his butt to the meaty bulge of his overdeveloped package. He hadn't put his glasses back on yet, and his soft blue eyes glimmered from beneath his still damp bangs.
“Kinda puts it in perspective, though, huh? You're bigger hung than most of the Varsity swimmers.”
Brad nodded, “Yeah, I guess.”
“So, when did you have the growth spurt today?”
Brad heaved a sigh of frustration, “Just before gym class. It's why I was late. I actually tore my shirt.”
Sammy looked at him wide eyed, “Oh my god, really….?”
Brad pulled the tattered garment from his gymbag for Sam to look at. It wasn't in shreds like he'd been expecting. But the seams were torn at the shoulders and a split had started at the collar and worked its way down half the length of it. It now looked to small to fit Brad's muscled torso comfortably.
“Are…are you okay?”
Brad nodded, “Mm-hm. I started carrying bigger shirts and sweatpants in my bag a few weeks ago. Just in case.”
“Well, after today, there's no hiding it.”
Brad's tone was glum, “Don't remind me.”
“Brad! Brad….dude, wait up….!”
Brad and Sam turned to see the source of the shouting. It was Pete, the football player from gym class jogging to catch up. “Dudes, you guys walk really fast…..”
Brad looked him over as he caught his breath. “Uh, 'Peter', right….?”
“Yeah, man. But just 'Pete'.” He looked at Sam, “Annnnd, you're 'Sam', right?”
Sam nodded brightly, “That's me.”
Brad was bewildered. “Okay….'Pete'. What can I do for you?”
Pete's eyes flitted over Brad's form momentarily from head to toe before going on. “Listen, dude. I know we never talked before. And I heard you ain't crazy about the football players….”
“Well, I'm havin' a party at my place Friday night after the game.”
Oh this ought to be good, Sam thought.
Brad shook his head uncertainly as he tried to grasp why Pete was telling him. “And, you want me to….what? Help you pass a test or something so your parents let you have it….?”
Pete's mouth fell open, and Sam tried not to laugh out loud at his expression.
Pete shook his head, “Nah, man, that's not it….never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Pete walked past Brad, attempting to mask his disappointment behind uncaring, but Brad could tell he'd said something wrong. “Pete, wait. Really, what do you want to ask?”
Pete turned to face him, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to look cool. “Well…I wanted to know if ya'd like to come to my party?”
Now it was Brad's turn to be shocked. Despite being one of the lesser football players, Pete was one of the most popular guys in school. Pete lifted weights for football like all the other players, but he also worked out to look good and every inch of his physique showed his hard work and discipline. His body, combined with his strikingly handsome face, and a boyishly charming personality had shot him to instant popularity with everyone. He was also known for throwing killer parties that were by personal invite only.
Brad's mouth moved, but nothing came out as he tried to fathom this sudden turn of events. Finally, his voice settled on one word as Sam elbowed him in the ribs, “Oh….”
Pete looked from Brad to Sam to decipher what that meant. “I mean, if ya want to, dude….”
Brad had to consider. “Uh….that's really nice of you….Pete, but….”
Pete spoke hurriedly, sensing rejection, “Dude, really, it'd be a blast…..”
Brad continued, “….But, I already have plans for Friday”, he looked at Sam, “We have plans.”
“Oh, that's cool. He can come too….!”
Brad searched for a way out, deciding on honesty, “Really, Pete, that's nice of you. But parties aren't really my thing.”
Pete's hopeful expression sank into disappointment. “Oh, okay,” he said dejectedly. He produced a slip of paper and handed it to Brad. “Well, there's my cell number. I mean, if ya should change your mind.”
Brad put it in his pocket, “Ummm, okay. I'll, uh, think about it.”
Pete's expression brightened, and his hopeful smile could have lit the entire school. “Really? Sweet! Just gimme a call by Thursday if you're gonna come, 'kay?”
Brad nodded assuredly with mock enthusiasm, “Will do, Pete.”
Pete turned and jogged away. shouting back over his shoulder, “Hope to see ya there, dudes….!”
Brad looked at Pete's retreating back, and then to Sam. “What in the Hell was that all about?”
Sam, unable to contain himself, burst out laughing. “Oh god, that was hilarious….!”
Brad watched with a bewildered expression, “What's so funny….?”
Sam sobered enough to speak, “Oh, one of the hottest, most popular guys in school invites you to an 'invitation only' party, and you don't know why….?” He doubled over laughing once more.
“No. I don't know why!”, Brad said plaintively. “I'd sure appreciate it if you'd let me in on the joke.”
Sam stood, and cleared his throat chuckling a few more times before explaining. “Brad, he's into you. He was flirting with you, and you turned him down flat.”
Brad looked in the direction Pete had gone with astonishment, “No friggin' way….!”
“But….he's a jock….”
“And he's straight….”
“Apparently not entirely, Brad.”
Brad hesitated for a moment to formulate a response. “But, even if he's bi-, why would he invite me?”
Sam was sarcastic, “Hmm, lets see. He just spent an entire gym class seeing you in a little bright blue speedo. Hmm, lets see. You: cute, sweet, shy, boy-next-door-type guy, with a killer bod, and an enormous cock….gee, wonder why….”
Brad was still unbelieving, “Okay, okay. Say you're right. Even if he is bi-, wouldn't he know I'm taken?”
Sam shrugged, “Either he doesn't know we're together, or he doesn't think I'm competition. Ya gotta admit it. Ya think he's hot. I think he's hot.”
Brad avoided answering, instead opting for resolution, “Well….I'm still not going.”
“Hey! He invited me too, ya know. Don't I have a say in it?”, asked Sam teasingly..
They continued walking as the bell rang and joined the flow of other students through the hallways. “No”, Brad answered sourly
“By the way”, Sam added, “How do you know parties aren't your thing? You've never been to one. We should go. Could be fun.”
Brad looked at Sam's bemused face, “Like I told Pete: 'I'll think about it'.”
Sam nodded, “Okay. So…..what're our big plans Friday night….?'
“Shut up!”, Brad said, annoyed…..