Barry bent down to take a drink from the drinking fountain outside the chemistry room, and realized that even this simple act reminded him of Will. He extended his tongue to catch the stream of water and thought to himself, Damn, my tongue seems longer—did Will do that? Or am I imagining it? His wavy, long, blond hair seemed to be growing fast too, falling off his shoulders into the basin of the fountain, though he wasn't sure about that either. His too-small shirt rode up his back as he bent over—he knew Will had done that. Will had admitted to Barry that he'd been unable to resist testing out his newfound mental ability to grow organic matter on Barry's already heavy muscles, and now in spite of having slacked off at the school gym all summer he was easily the best-muscled boy in school, with nice, broad shoulders, broad lats, and bowling- ball pecs that challenged, and often defeated, the shirts he'd worn comfortably all last year.
But most of all he felt his two rock-hard, extra-wide cocks push hard against his flat steel abs (under the school letter jacket he always wore now). He'd had the rock-hard, extra-wide part all year, his teenboy hormones having blown up his cock and kept it that way all day, every day for months now, no matter how often he jerked off. But last week he'd found out about Will, and suddenly—as if Will had uncovered Barry's secret fantasy—his friend had almost accidentally sent him home with two big permanent boners throbbing under his jacket instead of one.
Even as these thoughts went through his head he heard a saucy voice behind him. “Damn, you do look good from the back,” Will's voice said softly. “But even better from the front.”
Barry started violently, splashing his face in the fountain. He turned and rounded on Will, who was eyeing him with a crooked grin. “For Pete's sake, someone is going to hear you say something like that one of these days,” Barry whispered, but his anger died as he looked into Will's glinting green eyes. He wasn't sure which Will it was, and he guessed it really didn't matter. It was like there was one Will with two bodies. They shared their memories somehow, and Barry thought that even Will didn't know which of his two beautiful bodies was the original, and which one he had created out of his own bod during a night sometime last month, a night which Barry had only had described to him, but which lived vividly in his waking and sleeping mind. He thought of that night for a mere moment—Will waking up from a half-sleep with two long, lithe, muscled, hung bodies, thick arms and legs intertwined, lips and tongues meeting for the first time—and almost instantly a great deal of precum surged from his quivering, bonehard cocks, wetting the already damp spots on his hidden shirt. He forced his mind back to the present.
Will was watching him with a smile on his lips and greedy lust in his eyes. He's said nothing, but Barry thought he must have guessed what had just happened; anyway his eyes kept glancing down at the lower half of Barry's jacket, which only the two of them knew concealed two leaking boners. “Don't worry,” he said gaily, but still in a soft voice that didn't carry. “Nobody heard.” Barry glanced quickly around, and sure enough, no one was around: Passing period was almost over so the bell was about to ring, and since there were no lockers here the only traffic was a few stray students hurrying to their classes. “Anyway, I have news,” Will went on. “We're moving out.”
“Really? That's great! No more worrying about hiding … things … from your Dad,” Barry said. Will's widowed father was a high-ranking airline navigator and so was usually over the Pacific, but he was due to come home soon, and though Barry had helped Will plan out how to hide two Wills from his Dad, they'd both agreed it would be both tiresome and risky.
“Yeah, I spoke to him on the phone last night,” Will said, stepping a foot closer, so that they were inches apart. Barry's senses were overwhelmed. Spots swam before his eyes. He ached to close the gap and thrust his tongue into Will's hot mouth and grind Will's one tremendous cock between his two hardons. “He promised ages ago I could move out when I was sure I was ready,” Will was saying, his hot breath on Barry's smooth cheek, “and last night I told him I was ready. He said he'd help with the rent till I got a job.”
“That's great,” Barry breathed, his heart pounding. His swollen cocks felt like they were growing, jostling each other, as if they were trying to get even harder—was he imagining it?
Suddenly the bell rang, and they stared at each other as if woken from a dream—then, grinning, they dove into the chemistry room for their last class of the day.
Halfway though the class, while Mr. Warren was looking up something, Will wrote a tiny note in the margin of his notebook and showed it to Barry: I can't wait to kiss you. Barry flushed, then suddenly his eyes widened. He stuck his tongue just a tiny way out of his mouth and looked at Will inquiringly. Will nodded with a wicked grin, then calmly turned his eyes front. Barry sat back in amazement. He'd been right! Will had done something to Barry's tongue. He wasn't sure what—it wasn't actually bigger, because he could talk normally and it felt quite normal and comfortable in his mouth—but somehow he knew that if he wanted to he could extend it quite a ways … into Will's hot mouth, for example. The thought turned him on tremendously, as he was sure Will had known it would, and he had to take a great shuddering breath.
Mr. Warren glanced up suddenly. “Mr. Pike, are you all right?” he said.
“Oh, yes sir,” Barry said, startled. The teacher nodded and went back to his searching. Barry glanced at Will, who was obviously trying not to laugh, and smiled at him. At any rate Barry was glad of the interruption: Otherwise he might have come, hard, right then and there.
Other students trickled on to the bus, and the two boys barely noticed the glances and stares of the other young men and women, at the sight of the two sexiest guys in school in one place, having over the summer become inseparable best friends. Some of the guys seemed reluctant to sit down and face front, losing their view of the young gods, tall and handsome and bulging with muscle and somehow charged with sexuality. One or two who normally sat in the front plucked up enough courage to sit near the back, where they could steal glances at the unsuspecting hunks out of the corners of their eyes.
It was nearly time to go when Andy got on the bus. Barry drew in his breath and nudged Will, who nodded and smiled. As Andy climbed in, the bus itself suddenly seemed smaller. Andy had always been tall and lanky, with long well-muscled arms and legs and a long, tight torso; but over the summer he'd shot up like a beanpole, until so that now he was close to six-foot nine, and was even more lanky, his thick pectorals capping endless abs, his limbs provocatively long and beautifully sculpted—though few observers put it into quite those words. But he was already being called Stretch school-wide; though Barry could tell, as Andy made his way toward them with a wide grin, that his shoulders and pecs were filling out and were pushing against the short tee shirt that showed his navel—before long he wouldn't look at all like he was all arms and legs.
Barry knew that long arms and legs on a lean, well-put-together boy was almost as sexy to Will as the kind of muscular hunk that Will had helped Barry become. In fact Will had admitted with some embarrassment that he had tried out his abilities on Andy and had had trouble stopping, since with each augmentation—a little bit taller, arms and legs a touch longer, feet a little larger, fingers longer, taller again, and so one—Andy became sexier and sexier, until at last Will had to break off cold turkey. Meanwhile Andy, though ignorant of their origin, seemed delighted with the changes, and since school had resumed he was fending off all kinds of advances as well as dealing with appeals from four different sports teams.
Andy, still grinning, sat down next to Barry in the middle of the back bench, so that Barry was pressed between these two sexy guys, and as his dicks pumped he entertained a brief but vivid image of the two of them bending over and taking his slabs of cock into their mouths. Since he'd gotten two cocks he'd only had one double blow-job, from the two Wills of course, and he wanted more.
Barry whispered to Will, “We have to tell him.” Will glanced at Andy and Barry saw a flash of guilt, combined with naked lust—though Barry was pleased to see that lust was not quite as strong as what he saw in Will's eyes for himself.
Barry turned to Andy. “Hey, Stretch,” he said. “How's it going?”
“Great,” Andy said enthusiastically. His long legs were folded up to fit in the seat, and his right leg was drifting over Barry's, the underside of his long thigh brushing the tops of Barry's well-rounded leg muscles. “I've been trying for hoops every year since junior high, and suddenly this year I'm a shoo-in.”
“Having some wardrobe trouble, though,” Barry added, tugging at the too-short tee shirt.
Andy smiled ruefully. “You don't know the half of it,” he said. Barry knew what he meant, and it made his cocks surge suddenly, and another half-cup of precum leaped out of his cocks. Barry and Will were seniors, and Phys. Ed. was optional for seniors, so they'd been able to keep their enhanced pythons secret; but Andy was a junior and had no such option. Word had spread from the locker room like wildfire about the fire hose between Andy's long legs.
The bus got under way, and as it jostled down the road Barry realized that the way his precum-lubed cocks bouncing together, combined with the feel of Andy's muscle against his (and the thought of that fire hose—could he see it, twitching near the knee under the extra-baggy jeans he wore?) on one side and the sex-radiating Will on the other, he might cum before he got home.
“What about you, Bar? Why the jacket? Aren't you hot?” Andy said, patting the letter jacket above the waist—then his grin, and his hand, froze, the latter having felt just what was under that jacket. Andy pressed his long-fingered hand against Barry's palm-wide boners through the fabric and stared at his friend in wonder.
“Oh, he's hot all right,” whispered Will. At that moment Andy gently squeezed Barry's prelubricated cocks together, and suddenly he realized couldn't take it any more. His big balls roiled, and then his cocks burst, pounding hot thick cum onto his abs and chest under his drenched shirt and dampening jacket. He tried to stay still and look as normal as possible, but he couldn't hide it from Andy, whose big long-fingered hand hadn't moved. His eyes were wide, and he was panting slightly.
“Andy,” Will said brightly, “why don't you stop by my place for a lemonade?”
“It's really very simple, Andy,” Barry said finally, shuffling uncomfortably. “Will, here, ah, discovered that he can do things. With his mind.”
“I can make things grow,” said the Will who had come home with them. The other Will nodded. Barry glanced at them, and spared a moment to drink in the beauty of the two twin sex gods standing together, virile specimens of teenage manhood. His own twins jumped against his abs. But he had to concentrate on Andy.
Andy was looking at them warily, aware that this simple—if bizarre—explanation would cover what had happened, but not ready to believe. “Maybe you should show him,” Barry said. “But not like you showed me,” he added hastily.
The two Wills frowned, looking at each other, as Andy watched, biting his lower lip. Then they nodded and the first Will indicated the feet of the second Will, who had, Barry now realized, walked in barefoot. “Watch,” he said. The two closed their eyes, and both Barry and Andy stooped to look at the twin's beautiful feet. Barry had never exactly been “into” feet, but he had noticed that Will's six-toed feet were somehow sexier than usual, long and nimble and graceful and solid all at once, and he knew that during his early experiments Will had spent a lot of time mastering the foot.
Andy let out a low gasp. An extra, seventh toe was forming on each foot next to the big toe, just like the second toe but longer. The whole foot was widening just enough to accommodate the extra toe, and Barry could see complex adjustments to bone, muscle, and nerve were going one under the skin. The whole process seemed to take seconds, or hours, the watchers were so enraptured, though in truth it was probably about twenty minutes. Finally the two Wills took a deep breath and opened their eyes, and the twin delightedly wiggled his newly increased toes.
Andy looked up with wild eyes, mouth open, a discernable hard-on throbbing against the entire length of his thigh. He seemed at a loss for words. Then he straightened up to his full height and licked his lips. “And that's why…” he breathed, looking down at his own bod.
The two Wills nodded. “We're sorry,” they said. “You were getting so sexy it was hard to stop.” And Barry noticed that even at this strange moment the two Wills were eyeing this tall giant hungrily.
“Sorry! You didn't ask,” Andy said, staring hard at the two hunk twins, but at the same time stroking his long shaft through his jeans. “I tell you what. Um, you're not really Will's twin brother, are you?”
The second Will smiled and shook his head. “I duplicated myself once,” he said. “It took a long time.”
“Could you do it again?” Andy said quietly.
Barry and the two Wills looked at each other, amazed. “You want to have another body?” Barry said incredulously.
Andy smiled sheepishly. “I never knew I was gay until sometime last year I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I wanted to kiss the man I saw in there. Now—don't get me wrong—I'm not full of myself. Not at all.”
“I know you're not,” said Barry honestly.
“But you found yourself attractive,” Will said.
Andy let out a deep moan, and let his hands wander over his long, lithe body. “Man, did I ever. I've been burning to have sex with that guy in the mirror and it's only gotten worse this year. I started realizing that that boy was getting hotter and hotter…”
They were all getting hotter. Each of them was picturing this tall, outstandingly sexy teen-man making love to his own body, exploring the long, muscular arms, caressing the broad, thick pecs, kissing his own sweet lips, sucking his own prodigious cock, writhing with two bodies in the throes of fantasy…
“Shit,” said Andy said suddenly, “I gotta free this sucker.” Before they could say a word unbuttoned his pants and dropped them to his ankles, revealing his long, well-muscled, hairless legs, a hard, perfectly rounded ass, and a foot- and-a-half-long shaft, wide and flared near the top, that immediately sprang up from where it had been struggling against the pants and slapped against Andy's sternum.
Barry and the two Wills gasped. They started shucking their clothes, their eyes riveted on Andy, who had immediately taken the cock into his mouth and wrapped two big hands around the lower part of the shaft, slowly stroking the huge boner as he passionately sucked it. Barry watched fascinated, his own hands stroking his two big cocks, occasionally straying to his huge pecs and the massive muscles of his arms. His anus twitched, and suddenly he imagined that he had a second body, and that it was behind him, pressed hot against his back, cupping his bowling ball pecs, two cocks—or were there more?—pressed against his virgin ass, his hot breath on his own neck, more hands stroking his many palmwide cocks, stroking his flat abs, a fire burning in the loins of two amazing bods. God, he wanted it too…
He glanced over at Will and saw that he was doing what Barry had been imagining: Will had gotten behind himself and was pressing his footlong cock into his own ass, while running his hands over his delicious bod; but their attention was totally consumed with Andy. Barry glanced back at Andy and gasped again: Andy was growing! His whole body was huge, his head scraping the ceiling, and everything was bulging, growing thicker and wider—arms, legs, torso, head, hands, cock. Andy seemed not to notice, transfixed by his autofallatio, though he was working it slower now, as if slightly dazed. Barry's eyes seemed to blur, he was having trouble focusing on his giant transforming friend. He stroked his cocks in awe, mouth agape, precum dripping on the tile of the foyer.
How long this went on Barry wasn't sure; he felt as though he were in a dream. But suddenly both Andy and the two Wills started to grunt. Barry blinked at Andy and quickened his pace on his own two cocks, his heavy fists, fingers not quite touching, flying up the shafts. Andy, now over nine feet tall, was now nearly doubled—he appeared to have one body built onto the back of his original bod, with muscular shoulders and torso and ass all attached together, long lithe arms and legs and two heads free one behind the other. The head in front was still sucking the long cock in front, seeming close to release; the head in back was kissing the neck in front.
Just as Barry, getting close himself, was wondering if Will was going to leave Andy that way, with an audible pop Andy burst apart into two huge, awesome, sensuously beautiful bodies, and simultaneously the two Andys and the two Wills screamed in climax, their hard cocks bursting with hot cum, carrying Barry over the edge as well. The Wills and Andys stumbled, collapsing against each other.
Will, panting, looked over the nearly ten-foot-tall Andy and grinned. “Sorry about the height,” he panted. “Got carried away. … I'll fix it later.”
“No rush,” Andy breathed, grinning.
“No rush at all,” said the other Andy.
Barry writhed in his bed, immersed in a recurring dream. Though the October night was cool and a clean cold breeze gently tossed the light curtains, pinpricks of sweat dotted Barry's fair brow, and a few damp locks of his long wavy hair clung to his forehead.
Barry turned toward his side restlessly; as he did so the top sheet dropped away, revealing a beautifully sculpted muscle-hunk's body—a work of art begun by Barry through years of long hours in the school gym and weekends of hard work on his uncle's farm, and cunningly augmented by the lust of his buddy Will, who had turned his newfound mental ability to grow organic matter to the betterment of his friends. After, that is, first painstakingly growing himself a new body, turned out in exquisite detail to be as luscious as the body Will had grown up into.
Droplets of sweat had broken out across Barry's ponderous pecs as well, and here and there across his tight, hard torso. His light blond public hair was dark with moisture, and the two oversized, double-wide cocks that thrust from that groin glistened in the moonlight with bright sweat and duller precum, rock-hard and pressed tight against each other, the broad arrowhead tips just overapping, the palm-wide shafts jostling as they throbbed in rhythm with the pounding of Barry's heart. A meaty hand rested nearby even in sleep, ready to be called upon to meet his urgent need, yet somehow seeming reluctant to escalate the intensity of whatever his dreams had stirred deep within him.
He muttered softly in his sleep. “Two Wills,” he sighed. “Two—” He lapsed into silence, and lay, twisted slightly awkwardly, his torso lying flat but his powerful, hairless legs twisted to the side. His chest rose and fell slowly and rhythmically.
All was still in the room except for the fluttering curtains and Barry's restless form; but he was not alone. Two pairs of bright green eyes shone in the darkness just beyond where Barry stretched in his extra-long twin bed. A visitor with eyes accustomed to the dimness in the room would have made out in the deep shadows two broad-shouldered figures with close-cropped hair. They stood between Barry's bed and the window, so that what wee-hours moonlight there was backlit them, silhouetting two forms that even only in outline, and broken by the lines of tee shirts and jeans, were obviously perfectly put together.
There was a flash of teeth as the two figures shared a smile, quickly sheathed. Then they set their bright eyes on the sleeping hunk, with a startling intensity of gaze.
They knew of what Barry dreamed.
You're all right, it said. Enjoy this moment.
Barry relaxed slightly in spite of himself, trying to process his senses, afraid to open his eyes. It felt—it felt like his entire body was immersed in something active and tingly, like a carbonated spring. It seemed to come from all around him, or all through him, permeating his flesh and more than his flesh, recesses and inner places he'd never felt aware of, bone and gut and sinew. Every atom of his body was alive and beyond alive, resonating, throbbing with energy.
He was bathed in a warm fire that did not burn but seeped around him and through him as if he were made of a different kind of matter from the solid objects of our universe. The intensity of the sensation was more powerful, more pleasurable, than an orgasm sustained, even accelerated, over seconds, minutes, hours… There was no sense of time, and the stimulated atoms of his body seemed to spin and—
Barry's breath caught, and he felt as if he were in space, or the womb, floating, unencumbered by gravity. Still he was afraid to open his eyes, though in his half-awake trancelike state he sensed that the cells and the very molecules of his teencolt body were somehow too numerous, that his mind held sway over more body than it had ever done before, tightly packed and bound to his body and mind. He breathed, and he seemed to breathe normally, and yet not normally—more air, more lung, deeper breaths. He licked his lips and tried not to understand the sensation that came with that.
The mass of his being contracted a little—he felt strangely dense—and then in his mind he could sense a—a—a twoness—
He could sense everything that was him dividing, separating, pressing into one aspect or the other of his twoness. Unlike the slow process of propagation this seemed to take place in the space between one moment and the next, and then it was over.
The eerie dreamlike state evaporated and was gone. The ecstasy like the impossibly sustained orgasm was gone. The warm light was gone. He lay, heavy again with gravity, on his own bed, the dream over.
He was weighted down.
His entire body was being pressed into the bed by something—a form—a body: a body he could sense from the inside, a body he could see with his eyes closed.
He opened his eyes.
So did the form on top of him.
One Barry stared deep into the eyes of the other.
Their chiseled, masculine faces, rough with the lightest of stubble along their chinlines, were hardly an inch from each other. Soft bursts of hot breath played across their lips.
Without breaking his intense stare deep into his own cobalt blue eyes Barry sought sensations from below. His entire body was responding to the stimulation of a body as hot as his own being pressed against it; his whole being simmered with arousal. Muscles from all over his body responded to his queries, returning floods of joy and a vague sense that they felt unusual, engorged, as if his muscles had swollen and firmed with arousal the way his cocks did; and they all reported being pressed hard by muscles that felt identical to themselves. His cocks were rigidly, painfully hard, superpumped with blood, and deeply stirred at being interlaced with two equally overtumescent cocks pressing down hard from above. They felt huge, heavy and oversized even for him, yet natural, primal, fountainheads of profound lust and pleasure.
Still staring deep into his eyes Barry cast his net just a little further, and became aware, on the tingly fringes of his perceptions, of the sensations of the body pressing down on him. As he attended to these senses he seemed to feel from the body above, feeling himself pressing down the tightly packed, heat-flushed muscles of his own overbuilt body; and as he processed that marvelous sensation the world turned slightly in an easy, fluid movement, and after a fleeting, barely perceived moment of sharing, of unity, he was continuing his stare into his own eyes, looking down.
His stomach twisted, slightly, unused to such a turning of the world, and then the moment passed, the twinge forgotten.
Muscular arms came up from below, wrapping around his broad pale back, and as he enjoyed the thrill of being wrapped in those arms he sought for, and found, the matching sensation of the body beneath him, wrapping his arms around him, and as he held him he rediscovered the moment of unity and seized it, fed it, fixed it in his mind, or his mind within it, and allowed it permanence, and as he proceeded to increase his own physical stimulation he felt unbridled pleasure from both directions, enmeshed in the rapture of the complete sensation of lovemaking.
He kissed him, and the pure joy of those sensations from both directions carried him away, into a warm, powerful paradise of almost unendurable intensity, and he came many times and eternally, until the endless night at last and gradually subsumed into the perfect slumber of the sated.