Eager to improve his personal appearance for the sake of the band he’s fronting, Ryan finds a solution that involves dramatically changing how he looks. Now he just has to keep the weird parts of it secret from his friends and roommate.
As my eyes began to adjust to the dim moonlight sifting through the window behind me, the first thing I noticed was Ryan. He was directly in front of where I was standing, sitting with his legs up on my bed, back against the wall. Cool moonlight picked out bits and pieces of his enormous body, but I needed no moonlight to see his eyes. I could feel his brilliant blues staring deep into mine.
Stuie was sprawled on my roommate’s bed, drumsticks still in his hands. He was watching both of us with fascination, his eyes moving from Ryan to me and back.
Suddenly I could feel nothing, think nothing. My passion for Ryan flooded me, saturating every pore. I moved toward him, closing the distance between us, until I was standing in front of him. Even sitting down he still towered over me, but what struck me was wanting to be taken into those long arms and lose myself there. I licked my lips.
His eyes were still fixed on mine. I realized he was trembling. I put my hand up on his shoulder. My touch seemed to calm him a little. “Don’t be afraid,” I said.
He nodded. Simultaneously our heads moved together and we kissed.
His lips were so warm and luscious, his mouth so large and inviting, that I could have made love with him by doing no more than that. As we kissed, though, he drew me into his arms and pulled me up on the bed with him, my knees feeling his naked thighs through the demin of my jeans. Our heads were about level; my torso was pressed against the high, heavy, rockhard spheres on his chest. His long, massive arms folded around me, engulfing me. I was in heaven. He was kissing me with longing, with passion, with hunger, but he kept his kisses small so that my mouth could match them.
After a few moments of this I became aware of my cock, which had grown as a result of my onstage fantasies, pushing straight up and up as I imagined it pushing deeper and deeper into Ryan. Right now I could feel it pushing against the bottom of my left pec, pushing the muscle up a bit. Ryan must have felt it too, grinding against his pendulous pecs. Even as I became conscious of my cock I started to feel something pushing against my back.
“Holy shit,” I heard Stuie whisper.
I had forgotten he was there. I looked over at him, but he was looking at something behind me. I craned around to see. Ryan’s enormous cock had gotten hard—very, very hard. It was up to my shoulder blades and curved toward me, pushing on my back, shoving me foward as it throbbed. I looked back at Ryan, whose eyes were lit up. I kissed him again and then stood up on his legs and started to take off my clothes.
Like a flash I remembered the concert, what I had done. I thought about being naked and suddenly my clothes were gone.
Ryan immediately pulled my cock out from where it was wedged against my left pec and placed it in his hot, luscious mouth. Slowly he lowered his head and took more and more of my extra-long cock, his sexy eyes smiling up at me, his randy cock throbbing against my back. My cock felt so good inside him, it felt like it belonged there, like sheathed sword. And I knew he felt the same way. He ran big hands across my naked muscular body, and I ran my hands across his extra-broad shoulders, through his long silky hair, and as his hot mouth and broad tongue ministered to my entire cock, his muscular throat massaging the uppermost lengths of the shaft, I felt a wave of deepest pleasure.
But as enormously satisfying as that was, I had to feel what it was like to be in his ass. Slowly I pulled out, and he reluctantly lifted his head off of my cock.
I climbed off him and he slid down onto his back, his feet resting on the bureau at the end of the bed. I took those feet, which were as long as my forearm, and kissed them, then slid between his beautiful, muscular legs. They seemed to be radiating a luxurious warmth as I nestled between them. He was smiling at me across the length of his torso, his great bowling ball pecs partly obscuring him from me. His tremendous cock pressed thick and quivering between his pecs as if trying to fuck them.
I found his throbbing ass hole with a finger. It felt remarkably tight. I pressed the tip of my cock against it, felt the muscle part just enough to admit the head.
Ryan reacted immediately—his entire body shuddered with pleasure. He moaned lightly. Slowly I slid my cock into his body. Never had I felt a hotter, tighter, sweeter ass. I was awash in ecstacy, my face flushed, my breath coming in pants. I pressed my cock deeper and deeper and deeper.
I slid my hands across his smooth incredible cock, something like four feet long and half a foot across, laying against his pecs like an excited lover. It was like a cock idol, and I wanted to worship it. I lifted it up—it was heavy and stiff as a tree-trunk—and pointed it toward Ryan’s mouth, only a couple inches away. He eagerly took the hint and began going down on himself as I stroked the pulsing base.
I was deep, deep inside him and was so into shoving my cock into that hot, tight, sweet ass. My balls were up against his ass, but it felt like I was pushing even deeper as I stroked my cock in a rhythm. I wouldn’t be able to hold on too long. My rhythm quickened. Ryan was watching me as he went down on himself, matching my strokes. We got faster and faster, pounding in rhythm, until suddenly, even as I felt a massive rush of heat surging through my entire body, Ryan moaned and began sucking himself at a fever pitch.
I wanted to feel what he was feeling, experience what he was experiencing, and suddenly I was. For a moment our sensations swirled together like two cyclones melting into one. I felt everything he was feeling—the thrill of that colossal body, of deep-throating your own tremendous cock, of having a startlingly long, superhard cock deep in your hot, tight ass, but most of all the passion that infused him, the long-contained passion he felt for me. It drove both of us over the edge. He drew up off his cock to kiss me madly, pulling me against him with his engulfing arms as we kneaded his cock between our torsos, my pole stretching inside him, and after a white-hot minute we both exploded. In the intensity of feeling each other’s orgasms we both nearly blacked out even as we both shot load after load, Ryan’s splashing on the cinderblock wall behind him. I slumped onto Ryan, still enfolded in his massive arms, my long cock still inside him, and felt as though I were melting into him. We lay that way for a long time.
What made me jerk suddenly bolt-upright was the sound of keys jiggling in the lock—my roommate! Of course—it was nearly 7 a.m. He always came back to the dorms at this time from his girlfriend’s digs off campus, to shower and get ready for the early-morning classes he’d been saddled with.
I stared at the door in the early-morning light. The knob was already turning. With barely a thought I imagined the dresser pressed against the door, and as I concentrated there it was. Even as the dresser shifted the door shoved against it. From outside I heard a muttered “Shit!”
“That you, Jerry?” I called. I glanced at Ryan and saw what I already knew—as much as he loved being a giant he was not ready to be discovered in this form. I nodded and smiled, and to my relief he smiled back. He trusted me.
“‘Course it’s me, hoser,” came the voice from the hallway. “What gives?”
“I think the door’s stuck. I’ll work on it from this side,” I said. I turned back to Ryan and slowly climbed off him, sliding my softening cock out of him a half foot at a time; I was startled to see how much I had made it grow inside him—by the time it was all out it was soft but still reached below my knees. I ignored it for a moment and took all of Ryan in with my eyes as he sat up, willing myself to be careful—it occurred to me that I could hurt Ryan if I did something wrong, and that nearly kept me from doing anything at all, Jerry or no Jerry.
But Ryan saw something in my eyes and smiled reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid,” he mouthed. Suddenly I realized how much he meant to me—and that had to make it impossible for me to hurt him. I concentrated, and for the first time, with all the passion subsided, I felt the raw energy of the earth itself flowing through my mind and body, and I drew on that energy, concentrating on bringing Ryan back to his former form.
—Only (as the alert reader might have guessed) I couldn’t bring myself to take him totally back to his original scrawniness, and the boy getting up off the bed and standing in front of me after a moment was a five-foot-eleven Ryan who was still proportionately as muscled as the nine-foot Ryan had been. I grinned wryly at him, and he grinned back, but we both knew it was too much of a shock to anyone who actually knew Ryan.
This had only taken a couple seconds, but the thumping coming from the door—Jerry was throwing his whole weight into opening the “jammed” door, a curse accompanying each shove, and the dresser was starting to budge—told me I didn’t have much time. I concentrated again and Ryan’s muscles shrank to reasonable proportions; not as fabulous as before, but still hunky, and seeing him in this light I found him as sexy as I had before. I had no time to admire my lover’s body, however; I had to get rid of that dresser before Jerry realized the door was barricaded not jammed. I shifted the dresser back and even as I did so I realized we were still naked; and even as I was throwing jeans, sneakers, and flannel shirts onto both of us I realized the wall behind the head of my bed was drenched in cum. And even as I was concentrating on taking that away, the door was opening hard, and I realized as Jerry bowled into the room that I hadn’t done anything about the sizes of our cocks. Mine was not too thick, so it wasn’t obvious in the jeans I had drawn onto myself; but Ryan, standing next to me, looked like he was smuggling a two-foot kielbasa. Instead of making it smaller, though, I opted for making his jeans baggier. Ryan realized what I was doing and shoved me playfully, giving me a mock admonishing glare. I grinned unrepentantly even as Jerry picked himself up off the floor.
Jerry was a year behind me and a jock, to the point of almost always wearing sweats (usually only sweatpants, as he was now—he was very proud of his chiseled, heavy-muscled torso, and was miffed that I, though not a jock, put on muscle faster than he did, taking solace in his superior definition), being competitive about everything, drinking beer whenever possible (though amazingly he was still flat-stomached and a 32 waist), and trading dirty jokes with his buds. He was amiable enough, and I liked having him around, not least because he was certainly pleasant to look at. He was also smarter than he let on.
“Thanks for helping, dude,” he said pleasantly. He turned to Ryan and clapped him amiably on the shoulder. “Hey, Rye, you’re looking good,” he said, even as he did a double take on the shoulder he’d clapped. “Very good, in fact,” he added, stepping back to appraise Ryan more fully. I thought ruefully to myself, Of all the times for him not to be drunk… but I hastily tailed off that line of thought. I didn’t want to make someone else drunk just for my benefit!
“Thanks,” Ryan said, sitting down in the chair that went with my desk. “Brian’s really been helping me out at the gym.”
Jerry must have seen something moving in Ryan’s pant leg because he glanced sharply down at Ryan’s crotch. I almost regretted my moment of caprice but Jerry shook his head and sat down on the edge of his bed, crumpling a piece of paper under him. “What’s this?” he said, pulling the paper out from under his ass and reading it: “Guys, thanks for the show—fucking unbelievable! See you at breakfast, Stu.” He looked up at me and cocked his head. “Show?”
“C’mon, Jer, you know we had a show last night,” I said casually.
“Yeah, I heard you guys blew your wad on some weird-ass special effects,” he said, glancing at Ryan and then back at me.
“Yeah,” I said. “Listen, Ryan, we should catch up with Stuie.”
“Hang on, I’ll come with you,” Jerry said, standing up. “I gotta catch breakfast too.”
“Sure,” I said.
On the way over to the dining hall Ryan leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Why don’t you do something about Jerry?”
Jerry was only a foot away, walking with us, glancing at us and running a hand across his abs, which he normally did when he was puzzling out a homework problem. I tried something new: I concentrated on Ryan hearing my thought—Why? I think it’s kind of fun.
Ryan started momentarily, then looked carefully at me. I guess it is fun, I heard him thinking. But what if he figures out what’s going on?
Don’t worry, I thought. He won’t.
Stuie’s grin on seeing us walk into the dining hall subsided on seeing Jerry, but we grinned back anyway and collected around his table. “Hey, Stuie,” Jerry said. “Heard you had a really hot gig last night.”
Stuie, like an idiot, said, “What do you mean?—Oh, yeah, the concert. It went great, yeah.” Stuie glanced at me and Ryan. I had to grin at Stuie’s total lack of conspiratoriality—his was a refreshing naivete.
Jerry smiled and said, “Sure did. C’mon, guys, let’s get our trays.”
As we stood on line to get our “western omelets” Jerry drew up between me and Ryan. “So, guys, what’s going on?” he asked in a low voice to Ryan’s back.
That was fast, I heard Ryan think. I smiled and said innocently, “I think omelets today. Can you see, Ryan? Is it omelets?”
“It’s omelets all right,” Ryan affirmed.
“Cut the crap,” Jerry said patiently. “I want you to explain this,” he went on, patting Ryan’s broad shoulder in front of him.
“I did,” I said. “Rye finally broke through at the gym. Why, did you want a taste?”
“Ha, ha,” said Jerry, still with a disconcerting patience. “Then how come he didn’t look like that yesterday?”
“Sure he did.”
“Brian,” Jerry said quietly after a moment, as we moved slowly forward on line, “one thing you must have noticed about me—’cause I know it about myself—is that I’m obsessed with my body. That’s just the way I am. I notice other guys’ bods ‘cause I push myself to be better than everyone. This,” he said, patting Ryan’s back, “is not the same bod Ryan was wearing yesterday.”
All I could say was, “Sure it is.” I heard Ryan think to me, with more than a hint of irony, Jeez, what kind of a freak roommate do you live with?
“And,” Jerry continued, “even if that weren’t true, I’d like to know how come Ryan’s now taller than me, considering we’ve always been the same height.”
“C’mon, you’re nuts,” I said. “You’ve got to be five-nine or so, right?”
“So Rye’s always been five-eleven. Right, Rye?” I had believed this up until that moment, but of course I had seen Jerry and Ryan together and they were the same height, damn it.
Ryan thought to me, I’m five-nine, you dork. But aloud he said, “Right,” even as I blurted, “It’s the shoes.” Shit!
Jerry turned and grinned up at me, satisfied in his own mind that he wasn’t imagining everything after all. I supposed that up until that moment he hadn’t been sure. “So what is it, some kind of government experiment?”
In his eagerness he had forgotten his low voice, and I found that we were at the front of the line, with the dining hall tray-scooper (and our fellow students on line) looking right at us. I laughed it off to the scooper lady and the three of us took our trays in tense silence.
As we walked away I whispered, “All right, it’s an experiment. But you have to—”
“Get me into it.”
“Get me into it,” Jerry said simply. “That’ll shut me up.”
I exchanged glances with Ryan, who was biting his lip, no doubt wondering as I was whether this would be enough. I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay.”
So it was that Jerry, Ryan, and I found ourselves stealing across campus that night around three a.m., after most of the partiers had gone home. I had wanted to spend the day with Ryan, but it felt too strange with the Jerry situation unresolved—and I felt weird about using my “powers” lest someone else turn out to be paying too close attention. So we went to classes (which was just as well, since I had forgotten I had an exam that week in physics). That night Jerry clung to me like glue until three rolled around, so when Ryan showed up the three of us ended up watching a lot of old movies on my little TV. Jerry was excited and nervous, fidgeting in his chair, beads of sweat rolling down his perfectly rounded pecs and down his tight abs. He was wearing a jock under his sweats but I was fairly sure he had a constant hardon all night. I was relaxed, but Ryan glanced occasionally at me, thinking encouraging things at me like I hope you know what you’re doing. But despite the dampening presence of my roommate both of us were energized by each other’s presence, and even though Jerry “knew” we kept ourselves from getting aroused with increasing difficulty.
Finally the appointed time came and we headed for a lab in the med school I thought would be convincing as headquarters for a secret experiment. In between classes I had whipped up a “form” asking for his personal information, his goals for the experiment, and most important extracting a detailed confidentiality agreement. Jerry had already confided in me what he would ask for: the best bod on campus, not huge but perfectly built (which he wasn’t far from now), and two “big fat” cocks, his reasoning being that other guys might have bigger dicks no matter how big a cock he asked for, so to beat everyone he figured the only way was to have two.
I opened the locked doors that led us deep into the dark, echoing bio labs and picked the largest one. The lights went on with a shudder, and Jerry looked around, blinking. His eyes fixed on the large black examination table, complete with heavy duty straps, that dominated the room (and which hadn’t been there ten minutes ago). Lying atop it was the clipboard with the form and a pen.
A southern male voice spoke, sounding as if it was coming through an invisible P.A. high overhead. “Fill in the form, young man,” it drawled, “then undress.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. I winked at him and he thought at me, Nice touch. Then he stepped closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. I heard him think, Can we wrap this up quickly? I’ve been aching to make love to you again all fucking day.
I glanced down to see Ryan’s cock swelling like a life raft in his baggy pants, shoving rapidly down the leg. This prompted an immediate response in kind from me. The P.A. voice suddenly drawled, “Quickly, kid. We don’t have the room secure for very long.”
Jerry was scribbling rapidly on the form. “Gimme a second!” he exclaimed breathlessly. Sweat was trickling down his sculpted pecs.
“You sure about this, Jer?” I said, noting his nerves and thinking we might get off scot-free. Even as still-scribbling Jerry responded with surprising vehemence “I’m sure!” Ryan moved behind me and began running his hands across my back. A shiver ran through my body and my cock, just pushing out of the leg of my jeans, throbbed with excitement.
“Okay, I’m ready!” Jerry said to the ceiling, setting down the clipboard as he kicked off his shoes and stripped off the sweats to reveal legs as carefully sculpted as his torso. “Lie down,” said the P.A. voice, sounding slightly hasty and a bit less Southern than before. I had planned to use anesthetic equipment to put him under, in case he was still suspicious, but I didn’t want to move away from Ryan and in any event I couldn’t walk till I was free of the jeans. So I just had the P.A. voice say, “Count backwards from ten.”
Jerry looked around with a frown but began “10… 9…” I willed him asleep before he got to eight.
The next instant Ryan and I were enfolded in each other’s arms, pressing our naked bodies together, our repressed passion bursting forth as we hungrily kissed, our arms wrapped tightly around each other, our super-hard cocks, freed from their bonds, expanding and quivering in the cool air of the lab.
That night I let my imagination run free for a while, our passion casting aside inhibitions, and the excitement and raw lust of our flowing, morphing, intertwining passion is impossible to describe. As we kissed we grew together, expanding like human erections, until we were both about twelve feet high and so tremendously muscled that I stretched us up to a lither sixteen feet, as high as we could go in that room. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, and he did the same around me, so that we were bobbing in midair, our pulsing, redhot, intoxicating bodies intertwined, our cocks throbbing and pulsing between our stretched torsos, and we were still kissing feverishly. Only I was finding I couldn’t get enough of Ryan and found myself wrapping more and more arms and legs around him, until I realized I had a dozen thickly muscled arms folded around him and half a dozen legs, and some of the arms were long enough to wrap all the way around him and still have the hands stroke my back. Ryan found it so blindingly hot to be wrapped up inside my many arms that he nearly lost it then; but he held out, and moaned with pleasure as he discovered extra arms and legs of his own, which he wrapped tightly around me, saving four hands to minister to our powerful cocks. Our bodies twisted and contorted a we floated intertwined, and soon we were twisted in such a delightful way that I could fuck him even as we kissed, our many hands running all over each other’s impossible bodies and the colossal flesh-covered rock rising from Ryan’s loins as I pushed my extra-long boner inch by inch into Ryan’s hot, sweet, tight ass. Despite the pleasure of all we had been doing, being inside him was sublime, and as I pushed it all the way in I knew I couldn’t last long. I enlarged my own mouth and quickly went down on Ryan’s outstanding cock even as I pounded his ass, and he gasped and moaned as I took more and more of his tremendous cock. It felt almost as good as being inside him—deep, deep inside him—to have his massive cock throbbing in my throat. We floated there, poised on the edge, for I don’t know how long, a perfect moment; then in a sudden rush we exploded, shooting huge amounts of white-hot cum into each other, our bodies surging, melting together, overcome with bliss.
I think we both blacked out—anyway, I came to a moment later, and we were still in the same position, wonderfully intertwined with my still-hard cock inside his ass and his still in my throat. Ryan looked overcome with sated passion, his eyes closed, his many hands slowly stroking my back. I sighed and said, “I need to see to Jerry.” He nodded, and I slowly went about restoring our normal forms, until we were standing in front of each other almost back to normal, even reducing our cocks to manageable size—but I kept us both with four arms until the last. “I love how this feels,” Ryan said, running each hand across the opposite arm.
“I love how it looks,” I said, my eyes drinking in how the extra arms hanging off broad, lithely muscled shoulders suited Ryan. My own arms felt so good with bulky biceps of the back arms pressing against bulky triceps of the front arms, I wondered if I could get rid of them.
Ryan seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Maybe no one will notice,” he said with a crooked grin.
“I doubt it,” Jerry said suddenly.
We both whirled round to see Jerry sitting up, staring at us in awe, his dick hard against his flat abs.
For a long minute we stared at each other, Jerry’s cock twitching against his belly. Then Jerry jumped off the table and walked over to us. “So it was you all along,” he said, still in awe. “How do you do it?”
I decided to level with him. “I don’t know,” I said. “I just—” (I concentrated and Jerry was soon sporting two big, fat, succulent cocks, both very hard and curving slightly back toward his abs) “—do it.”
He looked down at the two cocks, slowly took one in each hand, and closed his eyes for a moment. I was just thinking we were going to be off the hook when he opened his eyes and said, “Thank you. But I don’t think this is going to be all. Not now.”
I nodded. I moved closer, until I was standing inches from him. He was breathing hard. “What’s your fantasy, Jer?”
He looked up into my eyes and swallowed hard. Would he be too shy to reveal his secret fantasy? Even if he was it would only postpone the inevitable. Ryan had moved behind him, and he seemed to feel the heat radiating from that sexy body.
That seemed to decide him. He took a deep breath and said, “Twins.”
I blinked at him. “Twins?”
“You know, twins. I want to be like this, but with twins.” He was obviously feeling the raw sexual energy of standing between us; his hands were slowly stroking his two fat cocks.
“What kind of twins?” Ryan breathed.
Jerry bit the bullet. “Twins of me. I want to be like this, but with twins of me.” He held his breath as he looked up at me. I realized he really wanted this—he was deeply attracted to his own body. He was always caressing himself, checking himself in the mirror, gazing at his own bod. I suddenly knew he’d always wanted to make love to himself and had never thought it possible until now.
I laughed aloud, relieved. That would most definitely satisfy him—and would not require any explanation other than a family reunion. “You’ve got it!” I said. I was so happy I bent down and kissed him, which he eagerly returned. Then I drew myself back and he realized he was kissing his clone—identical in every respect, including the two big delicious cocks and significantly enhanced but still beautifully sculpted muscles I had given him during our kiss. He ecstatically embraced himself, kissing so hungrily it was impossible to watch without a surge of passion. But I had one more task, and as I brought in the other twin behind him Jerry moaned loudly with ecstasy.
The three Jerrys went at it with wild abandon at first, then with slow sensuality, and I realized as they built back to a feverish frenzy that I was losing track of which one was the original. I guessed it didn’t matter. I caught Ryan’s eye and we shared a smile. At any rate, I was looking forward to resting my newfound abilities for a while and spending some quality time with the man of my dreams.
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Zach is surprised to get a Thanksgiving dinner invite from his reclusive great uncle Derek, but a trip to Maine with his friends sounds better than cooking. As it turns out, more awaits them in the strange old oceanside house than a few platefuls of turkey and cranberry sauce.