Mr. Tucker Forrest had every reason to think that he was as powerful as his position. His company had remained small by ad industry standards, but by specializing in sports related accounts, and landing several of the largest, T. Forrest Inc. had become a significant player. His select staff were all sports devotees of one kind or another, and knew better than most just how to service their accounts.
One area that Tucker had not yet locked up was sports nutrition and supplements, but he thought he was about to nail that one, too, with the help of one of his top account execs, Larry Littleman. Tucker had hired Larry based on the fact that he was a personal fitness trainer with serious qualifications in physical therapy, nutritional therapy and non-traditional supplements. Larry also had the outgoing personality and the looks to be successful as an AE. Tucker had, in fact, secured Larry's services not only as an AE, but also as his own personal trainer. Tucker was strikingly handsome and well built and he had every intention of maximizing those attributes professionally. After several months, Tucker discovered that Larry was not just into maintaining a fit, toned, cut physique. Larry was really more into bodybuilding.
Eventually he told Tucker he didn't care at all about competing as a professional bodybuilder, but he did have a personal goal of building himself up to where he could. Tucker wasn't about to let himself be pushed in that direction, and he wasn't sure how that kind of body would be received on one of his AEs.
When Tucker hired Larry, even before he saw him in workout clothes, he could tell he was built, but having a great looking staff of athletes was what he wanted. Larry was one of those guys who would drive women crazy. He had the face of a daytime soap opera star and a head of thick, dark blond hair to go with the face. Even in business clothes, he had the posture of a man proud of his body. His loose fitting slacks showed a great butt, and his dress shirts showed a pair of nicely developed pecs and arms that pretty much filled his sleeves.
When, in their talks about workout goals, Forrest realized that Larry was serious about building himself up to the proportions of a bodybuilder, he felt he needed to say something. He thought that Larry's credibility as an AE might be compromised if people thought he was becoming some kind of freak.
But Larry said, very respectfully, that he felt that how he developed himself was his business, and that it shouldn't get in the way of his effectiveness. In fact, he told Tucker, he was working on landing an account that could become huge.
Tucker was intrigued. Larry told him that some new bodybuilding supplement had been developed, and the inventors were looking for test subjects and an agency to represent their product. T. Forrest was a natural, and they had sought out Larry to get to Tucker. Larry told Tucker that they needed to complete just a couple more tests, and they'd be ready to go to market. He also told him that he, himself, was to be a test subject. Tucker immediately thought about having his own in-house testimonial, if this supplement worked. Larry told him he was scheduled to meet with them that night and would report back the next day. These guys were anxious to get moving and get rich.
The next day Larry called in to say he couldn't come in that morning. He told Tucker that he'd taken their stuff the night before, and it did work.
In fact it worked so fast and so well, he had to get some new clothes to wear. He said that the prospective clients had asked to meet with him, Tucker, at lunch to discuss plans for a media launch of the product. Larry said he'd meet him there, and named one of the top restaurants in town.
Larry thought about it all morning. Would he be able to see a difference on Larry? He knew, if it worked, the market for this kind of thing could be vast.
When he walked into the restaurant, escorted to the table by the maitre d', his mouth dropped open. Facing him was Larry, flanked by two men he assumed to be the clients by their extraordinary physiques, obvious even in business suits. Larry was grinning with pride as he stood to greet Tucker, the source of his pride clearly manifested. Tucker openly stared at Larry. So did almost everyone else in the restaurant. He was not wearing a jacket; just dress slacks, shirt and tie. He was huge. His arms more than filled the sleeves and strained the material of the extra large shirt. His back was so wide Tucker could see from the front how his lats flared thickly, pulling the fabric tight, causing it to cling to the huge pectoral muscles that sat broad and massive on his chest.
Larry apologized for not wearing a jacket, saying that when he tried to get into his this morning, he couldn't get his arms into the sleeves. But, he said to Tucker, who cares when it's obvious that the product works. He acted overjoyed, showing Tucker how dramatically it had worked on him since about five thirty the night before, flexing one of his huge arms so that the shirt looked about to split open from the strain. And, he told his boss, it's still working. It takes twenty four hours to do its complete job. And it feels absolutely wonderful.
Tucker's emotions bounced around as he sat discussing ideas for a campaign, convinced by what he saw that the potential for the product was huge, but not convinced that a physique like Larry's, or even these clients', would go over with the average guy. In fact, he felt a little embarrassed by Larry's size and his uninhibited display.
Larry, meanwhile, maintained an infectious level of enthusiasm about the results he was experiencing and how he felt. He said he could almost feel his clothes getting tighter. As Tucker listened, he couldn't help but imagine what that must feel like, to have such massive muscles that they could be too big to be contained by a shirt, even an extra large tent of a shirt like Larry was wearing.
They all laughed about various scenarios of guys using the product and growing huge in different situations, like at the beach or during an airplane flight. Or sitting in a fancy restaurant at lunch. Imagine some guy in his business suit suddenly getting too big for his britches. Tucker laughed, but his imagination was working too effectively all of a sudden. He could imagine how strange that would feel, the trousers becoming tight on the legs, tight in the crotch. Or the jacket sleeves feeling too tight when bending the arms to lift a bite of food or a glass. His imagination was producing such vivid pictures that he could actually feel what that would be like. He could imagine his reactions, a combination of panic and exhilaration.
Suddenly the restaurant felt stuffy and hot. Just thinking about that made him feel jittery. His skin was itching. Just a little, when he first noticed it, then growing stronger, like he had hives creeping up his arms and legs, then all over his groin, then spreading from his groin all up his stomach and chest. He couldn't let himself sit there and scratch or sweat in front of these new clients, and he felt embarrassed that his reaction to thinking about what this product could do was so strong. He excused himself and went to the bathroom.
When Tucker got into the bathroom, the mirrors gave him evidence that those sensations of his clothes feeling tighter were not just his imagination. As soon as he was inside the door, he frantically scratched the raging itching of his chest and stomach, and he thought, strangely, that his pecs felt bigger to him. He looked at his reflection and saw that his jacket looked too small, too snug. Maybe he just hadn't noticed this morning. After all, he had been building up with Larry's training routine. The itching was feeling out of control. He scratched all down his arms to the back of his hands. He looked at them in shock. The backs of his hands were covered with short, dark hair, hair that hadn't been there before. He unbuttoned his cuff, pushed up his sleeve, and saw the same kind of dark hair growing on his forearm. This couldn't really be happening! He quickly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. All that itching was being caused by dark hair sprouting thickly all over his chest and stomach. He looked just like one of those hairy guys who shaves and lets it grow back It was short and lay flat on his skin, but already he could see the swirls and pattern it was making. It wasn't his imagination at all. And it wasn't his imagination that his clothes were getting tighter. His arm muscles were bigger, and so were his pecs. They must have slipped him some of their product.
He pulled himself together, buttoned his shirt, which was now almost tight across his chest, and returned to the table. There, he asked them what was going on. Larry told him that they had all felt the best way for him to understand the product was to experience it himself. Tucker tried to hold back his panic. He asked how much they had given him, and one of the clients, Jake, told him they had given him a basic, full dose, like Larry had taken.
Now Tucker stared at Larry with a new and different kind of interest. Panic subsided and curiosity set in. His mind could barely grasp the fact that he could soon be as massively built as Larry. He looked at the way Larry's arms, at rest, strained the material of his huge sleeves, filling them up tight and full, and bulging insanely when he lifted or bent his arms at all.
Across his gigantic chest his pecs stood out like pillows filled with steel, straining the fabric, pulling the buttons. He noticed that, at his collar where he had loosened his tie, there was hair creeping up and out over the collar. Tucker knew that Larry had had a completely hairless torso. It looked good, he thought. What a strange thought to cross his mind, that hair on a guy's chest would look good. Or not. But it did look good to him, kind of darkly masculine and sexy.
Tucker felt himself sweating as the conversation at the table continued as if nothing strange were happening. His itching had not abated, and he guessed that he was feeling hair continuing to grow. Strange, but suddenly he found the idea growing of body hair very hot. He wished he could look. He tried to act casual and continue to eat and talk and drink, but every time he lifted something to his mouth, he could feel his arm a little bigger inside his sleeve. Soon, even the arm at rest began to swell against the fabric of his shirt and jacket. His clothes were becoming uncomfortably tight.
He felt his slacks becoming tighter and tighter. At first he just felt the tightness in his thighs, but soon he could feel his calves filling the fabric. At the same time, the material grew tighter around his hips, and he figured his glutes must be getting bigger, too. And he also realized, to his astonishment, that the crotch of his slacks had started to constrict him in his groin, crowding his genitals. With the hand in his lap, he felt himself, confirming his most outrageous suspicion. What was inside the crotch of his pants was also growing bigger, and with his thighs pulling his pants tight, his dick and balls had no place to fall, and suddenly, there was his meat making bulges in his slacks. His meat! How big was it getting? He could feel that there was more there, crowded, sensitive, even his balls making their own bulges with their swollen size.
He began to feel extremely self conscious and, at the same time, extremely turned on by what he felt. He felt his dick starting to swell and grow hard in his pants. With his hand, he could feel the size of its head and it didn't feel real as it crawled, growing bigger and harder, along the side of his groin, over his thigh toward his hip bone. He couldn't stand up now without showing the whole restaurant the effects this transformation was having on him.
He wanted to be angry. He couldn't believe they had done this without telling him first, and he told them so. Larry asked if he would have gone along with it. He said probably not, and Larry said that's why they hadn't asked. But his anger was being quickly swallowed up by his growing feeling of excitement. Strange, he thought, but even as he was sitting there, he knew that something was changing, not just in his body, but in his head, too.
He had been on Larry's case about getting too big, with his bodybuilding, to keep his place as an acceptable ad man, and now, suddenly, he was looking at Larry's enormous size and finding it exciting, even desirable. In fact, he was sure he could see Larry getting even thicker and more massive as they sat there, his shirt tighter, more revealing, causing increasingly strong waves of erotic stimulation to radiate through him. His collar grew tight and he felt hot. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar button, and when he did, he felt hair growing at the base of his throat out of his collar.
The waiter cleared their plates and brought coffee while Larry and the other two discussed the incredible potential of their product, once its ability to transform was made public. The one called Ted joked that they seemed to be making it public right now. Larry sat up tall in his chair, grinning, swelling his chest, replying that they sure were. His huge muscles strained the fabric of his shirt. He was enormous and Tucker couldn't believe his eyes. But he knew that they didn't mean just Larry when they talked about going public. He could barely move his arms, the back of his jacket pulled so snugly against his back and shoulders. It felt as though he were wearing a child's jacket and slacks. The sleeves were so tight with his arms relaxed, that he couldn't bend them without the material straining like a leather restraint belt. The top several buttons on his shirt, over his chest, were pulling, straining, about to pop.
Tucker was filled with a confusion of emotions. He wished he were any place but a public restaurant. He could no more hide what was happening to his body than Larry could. He knew he must be starting to look ridiculous in his clothes. People around the restaurant were looking at them, commenting in whispers to each other. But he also felt a certain envy at how Larry seemed to be inviting the stares, how he not only didn't seem to care, but looked proud to display his transformation, his increasingly massive size. Oddly, he realized, he sort of felt that way, too. He felt like some deeply hidden desire, some drive he had never acknowledged, was being forced into his reality, and he had no choice but to accept and embrace it. There was no sense fighting what was happening, since it was happening for all to see. A growing sense of enjoyment, an intense, profound, erotic satisfaction crept through his consciousness as he began to admit to himself how hot he felt, his muscles growing big and hard, becoming like those of a real bodybuilder.
Tucker reached for his coffee, and felt the seam down the side of the jacket under his arm, where his lats were swelling beyond the jacket's capacity to hold them, start to rip open. When he bent his arm to lift the cup, the seam down the back of the sleeve also began to give way with a tearing of the threads. If he didn't get out of the jacket right now, he would be treating the other diners, who were already watching, to the sight of his clothes splitting open before their eyes. He asked one of the men to help him get out of the jacket.
He struggled his arms out of their confines, and when he twisted to hang the jacket on the back of the chair, the second button of his shirt gave in to the strain of his mounding pecs and popped off. He had to loosen his tie more, and since it was obvious to him that the other buttons over his pecs would soon give way as well, he unbuttoned them down to below his chest, where his lats angled in to his hard, slender abdomen, and the buttons had room to hold. The shirt spread itself open over his pecs, the tie covering only part of his exposed chest. He saw the thickness of his pecs dive into a deep crease of cleavage, dark hair covering the skin. His dick reflexed against his groin with the sudden thrill of what he saw.
He could no longer deny that he was extremely turned on by what was happening to him. He felt wave after wave of intense erotic stimulation flood his body and his brain. He had never felt so horny in his life, so hot, so sexy, with a totally new, powerful sensation of maleness. This was making him feel deeply, intensely masculine in a way so overpowering that he had never imagined possible. He was beginning to understand Larry's pride. How could he have thought that being massive and freaky would be weird and embarrassing. He wondered briefly what his girlfriend would think if she could see him now, but he realized he didn't really care. He wanted to feel another person touching his muscles, but it wasn't his girlfriend.
He looked across the table at Larry. His account executive was saying to the two clients that it looked like both he and his boss were about to grow out of their clothes, and that they should probably be getting out of here and going to someplace more private while they completed their transformations.
Tucker stared at Larry, and he realized that the sight of his friend's massive muscles almost exploding inside his shirt was making his cock throb.
He had never felt the slightest sexual attraction for another man before, but now, when Larry said they should get to someplace more private, his mind flooded with images of Larry taking off his clothes, of seeing all of his incredible body, of touching it, feeling those massive muscles. What would the hair on his body look like? How big would his cock and his balls be?
And what about his own? He couldn't wait to see what he looked like, too, to see himself packed with muscle, hairy, amazingly hung. The thought of them naked, together, made him so much hornier he thought he might come, uncontrollably, right there in the restaurant. His hand reached under the table again to feel his crotch, and he realized that his cock, jerking with his erotic thoughts, rock hard and straining the material of his slacks, now extended past his hip bone and felt thicker than a giant cucumber. It was growing bigger still. How could he get up and leave?
The other two said that Larry was probably right. They would pick up the check and get in touch later. They said everyone would have a clearer picture of just what they would be marketing and how to use Larry and Tucker as spokesmen for the product. If respected advertising executives could transform themselves and enjoy their new look, why not the average Joe on the street. Go home, they said, enjoy the rest, and call tomorrow when it's all finished.
Tucker held his jacket in front of himself as they left the restaurant.
Walking was a revelation. He could feel the size of his ass in his slacks, the mass of his legs. His slacks were tight as skin. His thighs not only rubbed together, they forced his legs to move around each other with each step, the way he had seen bodybuilders walk. He could feel the material of his shirt stretched so tight across his back that his lats felt pressed and crowded. The sleeves clung tight to the mass of his arms. He knew that the people in the restaurant must be watching them as they left. He certainly didn't look like this when he came in. But he didn't care now; he found it kind of exciting. Wait, he thought, till they went public about what those people had just witnessed.
They decided, waiting for their cars, to go to Larry's place. It was close.
Larry drove ahead and Tucker followed in his Jag. On the way over, to his shock and growing excitement, Tucker felt the seam in the back of his slacks and on the legs start to split open. For one brief second, he thought about his suit being ruined, but he realized he would never be able to get into it again, and his uncontrollable arousal only increased with the idea that he was growing so big so fast as to rend the fabric of his old image. His shirt sleeves had become uncomfortably tight, and he bent first one arm, then the other, flexing his biceps until the sleeves burst, ripping open and exposing the massive peaks of his hard, swelling guns. Oh, yeah, he thought. This was too hot. He flexed his lats and felt the sides and back of his shirt rip open. It was as though he was being released, his muscles unbound. His lats felt so thick and wide under his arms, and his arms felt so dense and huge resting on the swelling, hard cushions of his lats. He looked down at his chest, pulled off his tie, felt his pecs with one hand. They were becoming absolutely huge now. The front of his unbuttoned shirt had pulled apart even more to expose a broad expanse of his bare chest. The plates of his pecs were becoming so thick that the crease of cleavage between them could swallow his fingers up to the second knuckles. And they were becoming truly hairy.
Just the kind of hair, if he had grown up with body hair, that he would have wanted to have. It had become much denser since his trip to the bathroom, but it still was not too long, and it lay flat on his skin, silky and dark.
He ran his hand under his shirt feeling how the hair grew all the way over to the broad sides of his pecs and down to the deeply overlapping cuts beneath them. His pecs were growing, not just massively thick, but broad and square, and they were almost totally covered with hair. His dick was throbbing inside what was left of his slacks, and a dark, wet spot of precum was growing by its enormous head. He let his hand continue to feel the hair that was growing down his abs. They were dense and hard as bricks, and their ridges and valleys were growing more extreme, harder, deeper, and the hair that converged down their center felt unbearably hot. With a reflex that never passed through his conscious mind, he grabbed his shirt, which had remained buttoned and intact where his waist was still tight and small, and he yanked it open, popping the buttons off, tearing it out of the waistband of his slacks so he could see more of his hard, increasingly sexy hairy stomach. Between the awesome growth of his muscles and body hair, he felt an unexpected sensation, a deep, intense, overwhelming explosion of masculinity, a powerful building of raw erotic animal maleness. He was about to pull open his slacks, to grab his cock and bring himself to the relief that he felt himself relentlessly building toward. He was so hot he had to come. He had to come NOW. But just then Larry pulled into a driveway and into his garage.
Larry jumped out of his car and came around to Tucker. His own clothes, while still intact, were straining to the point of giving way. He was unbuttoning his shirt. He opened Tucker's door, saying he had to get out of his clothes, and he laughed when he saw how far out of his Tucker already was. Tucker followed Larry inside. By the time he had reached the living room, he was out of his shirt and had undone his pants. Tucker followed suit, getting out of his own shirt and undoing his belt and zipper. He didn't even care that his cock was hard and huge and obvious for Larry to see. So was Larry's, now, and he didn't seem to give a fuck.
Larry had Tucker help him pull off his pants, the thighs were so tight. His bikini underwear came off with them. He jumped to his feet, spread his arms and legs, then flexed every muscle on his body as he moved slowly and deliberately into a double biceps, enjoying the freedom of his gigantic muscles being released from the restrictions of his clothes. His cock projected straight out from the dense big bush of his pubic hair, thicker than his wrist, and longer than his forearm. His balls hung almost halfway to his knees and looked the size of large oranges. His arms, his legs, his pecs, his abs, and his groin were covered with short, silky, dense hair that swirled and plunged in patterns that emphasized the size and shape of his body, his muscles, his exaggerated male equipment.
Tucker looked in awe. Was this what would happen to him? Larry was bigger that any professional bodybuilder Tucker had ever seen. Noticeably bigger.
Everything about him was insanely massive. Somewhere deep in his brain a faint thought of panic, or fear, or possible regret flitted by, but it was fast submerged in an tsunami of deep, intense, profoundly erotic arousal. He had never seen anything that turned him on so much as the sight of Larry and the thought that the same thing was happening to him.
With a few violent rips and tugs, and some help from Larry, Tucker released himself from what was left of his clothes. in front of a full length mirror in Larry's bathroom, he saw the mind-blowing sight of his own reflection for the first time. He was magnificent. With Larry standing beside him, he could see how much farther he had to grow before he would be done. His mind reeled. He was big like the bodybuilders that he never let himself think about becoming. It wouldn't have been the right thing for a big ad exec.
The thought made him laugh. And now he was that big, and he didn't give a fuck if people thought it was strange. Not only that big, but he had body hair that looked like a porno illustration. Where the line of hair had disappeared into his pants, now he saw it continue, spread thicker, and merge with his pubes which had spread on his groin, a major thick, dark tangle of luxuriant growth. It grew up his belly to where he knew that anything low cut that he wore would show groin hair. It spread out onto his upper thighs and joined uninterrupted with the hair that covered his massive legs. And from that sexy bush hung a pair of balls the size of lemons surmounted by his rod, a stiff, jerking, throbbing rod of veiny flesh at least a foot in length and so thick he could barely get his hand around it. He grabbed it hard with one hand while he stroked his unbelievably hot bod with the other, across his full, gorgeous, hairy tits, and down the furry peaks and valleys of his abs.
Next to him, he saw Larry grab his own cock with both hands. He saw how Larry had to reach around his humongous pecs to get hold of his dick, how it made his pecs mound up with insanely thick mass. He noticed the beyond-human flare of Larry's back, the wide-spread stance of his tree trunk legs. He thought how much hotter Larry looked with his even more perfect, outrageous body hair, and the size of his equipment. He was out of control with the thrill of what he saw and what was happening. He couldn't wait to get like Larry. He couldn't wait. And suddenly, without a stroke, his groin exploded with the start of an orgasm that radiated through his body, contacting him into a total body spasm that traveled back into his groin, down the length of his wonderful cock and finally rocketed him into space, a space he never even imagined possible. He thought his joints would fly apart as he shot volley after volley of hot, thick cream, jerking with ecstasy as it hit the mirror so hard it splashed all over him and Larry. And it just kept coming, and coming, pumping up from some place so deep he didn't know it existed. It hit him in the face and all over his chest and stomach. He saw it hitting Larry, matting the hair on his gargantuan chest, plastering it down as it ran down his abs. Finally, after what must have been more than a minute of full ejaculation, it slowed and stopped.
Larry was laughing, rubbing the cum into his hair, massaging his tits with its slippery lubrication. Tucker did the same, taking his lead from the hunk beside him. He felt so good, his body felt so good under his hands. His cock was still hard, still, to his amazement, throbbing, wanting more sex.
Then Larry reached for him, pulled him over, and began to massage the sticky fluid into his pecs and all the way down his abs. As soon as Larry touched him, he knew he had waited his whole life for this. He sucked in his breath and Larry leaned forward and placed his mouth on Tucker's. The feel of a firm mouth surrounded by stiff, scratchy whiskers made him suck his breath in again, almost to the point of fainting with passion, and he felt Larry's tongue press in to explore. He let himself lean hard into Larry's body to hold himself up, felt his pecs press against the hard, enormous mass of Larry's. He felt Larry's huge cock find his abs and start to work up them as they moved closer together. Then his own cock touched Larry's pubic hair and the base of his dick. Larry pulled him closer until both their cocks were pressed between their rock hard bellies, rubbing against each other, stimulated by the hair on their bellies. Tucker felt almost weak, swept into a tide of erotic, male passion.
Larry kissed him hard, moving from his mouth and pressing his lips and tongue into the soft flesh under Tucker's jaw line, his chin, sucking on the cleft in his chin, working it with his tongue, then down his throat to his chest, where he buried his face in Tucker chest hair, licking deep into his cleavage and cuts, sucking and nipping at his nipples.
He grabbed Tucker's hard, round butt and pulled him closer still, pushing their groins hard together. Then, before Tucker knew what was happening, Larry had wet his fingers with Tucker's spunk and was working it between his buns and into his asshole.
Tucker realized what Larry intended to do, and there was no way he could make himself want to stop him. He was so hot and so horny that he wanted more of everything, wanted to do, to know everything that could be done with and to the male body. He worked on Larry's pecs, massaged them hard, pressed the heels of his palms into their dense mass, lifting their incredible weight. He couldn't believe his own would soon be this massive, and he couldn't wait to feel it on himself.
Larry turned him around, reached under his arms, around his lats, and grabbed his pecs to pull him close from behind. Tucker felt the head of Larry's cock against his butt, pushing between his buns, separating them with its fist-sized head. He was so hot he didn't care how much it hurt; he wanted to feel Larry deep inside him. Larry was telling him how hot he was getting, how big. He told Tucker to flex for him, and Tucker felt hot and powerful as he raised his arms in a double biceps. His arms were getting huge. He looked in disbelief at the size of his biceps, how they peaked. He heard Tucker saying what great fucking arms, what great fucking tits, as he massaged his pecs harder. And then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, Larry was inside him. He slid the entire length of his cock in, slowly, filling him, deeper, deeper, until Tucker felt himself stop against the dense hair and hard flesh of Larry's groin. He closed his eyes and a groan escaped his lips.
Larry held him there for a minute, not moving, just pressing himself hard into Tucker. Tucker felt the fullness of Larry in him. Then Larry slowly moved his hands down Tucker's torso, across his swelling, growing muscles, until he had taken Tucker's cock in his hands. As he slowly began to stroke the length of Tucker's cock, he withdrew himself and pressed himself back inside Tucker in the same rhythm. He gradually increased his tempo, withdrawing himself slightly more each time, until he was pulling out past the rim of his cockhead, feeling the flaring edge pop out and back in again, slamming Tucker's hard ass each time he rammed himself in to its full length.
Tucker felt the heat increase until he felt white hot. His moans became open mouthed groans, increasing in volume and intensity with Larry's pounding rhythm. He felt Larry's breath, hot against his neck. He was nearing orgasm. He could feel it building in him until he felt himself rocked by another nuclear explosion, like before but stronger, squeezing him to the center of his cells, his body alive with pulsing, shocking, jolting sexual electricity. And as he watched thick streams of white cream jet out of his cockhead he felt Larry inside him jerking hard, convulsing with his own release, filling him with hot juice. He felt himself fill up until Larry's cum was leaking out and running down his butt and dripping off his balls.
When their convulsions finally subsided, they both collapsed on the floor in the pools of their cum, laughing, rubbing handsful of it onto each other, plastering down their hair, slipping and sliding their hands over each other's incredible muscles.
Larry suggested a swim in the pool, and they went out to his patio. Tucker felt magnificent. He could feel himself still steadily swelling bigger, harder, denser, his body hair filling in, his dick and balls growing more and more like Larry's. Then, suddenly, he felt his muscles start to cramp. Deep in his bowels, where he had taken Larry's load, he felt heat building and radiating. It felt kind of good, kind of sexy, but it also felt strange. He felt his muscles draw into themselves in a deep, but not a painful cramp, and then relax for a second or two, and then draw up again, almost like mild convulsions. He told Larry how he felt, and he went to the side of the pool where he could stand and lean against something for support. He laughed at himself for reacting, but the feeling of convulsing grew stronger, even though he was not outwardly convulsing. He looked at Larry watching him, and he saw amazement, maybe fear in his friend's eyes. And then he knew what was happening. Somehow, taking Larry's cum must have increased the activity of whatever was causing his transformation. The rate had increased. He was growing so fast he could see it, and so could Larry. He could feel it.
Suddenly he was on a rocket. He could feel his arms getting thicker and heavier, even as his lats flared and pushed them out, up. His pecs were ballooning inside his skin, broader, thicker. They were growing so big so fast he thought his skin would split. He could hardly see over them. He could feel his butt, where he was leaning, growing bigger, thicker, harder, literally pushing away from the side of the pool. His thighs pushed away from each other as they grew bigger and bigger, until he had to bend his knees to stand. His cock throbbed, reaching a spontaneous orgasm again, spraying his cream into the pool. He heard himself saying Oh, God! Oh, God!
Oh, God! over and over again. And his orgasm didn't stop; he just kept shooting spurt after spurt, and his cock kept growing, bigger than Larry's.
He could feel the weight of his balls against his thighs, almost to his knees. He had to see. It was hard to get his arms around the mass of his torso to reach them, but he lifted them and they were bigger than Larry's, too. They were the size of softballs. He wished he could get to a mirror.
He knew he was bigger than Larry all over, and he was still swelling, exploding with mass. Christ! This was incredible! Would he be able to walk? Did he care?
Larry was voicing his amazement. As Tucker continued to grow, his mass swelling, adding to itself, his orgasm going on and on, Larry could see that Tucker was lost in the sensations of what was taking place. No wonder. He could tell that Tucker was in a place beyond ecstasy, that he was flying on an orgasmic rocket. His traps threatened to engulf his head and his delts surpassed the size of bowling balls. Larry wanted him, wanted his muscle, his unbelievable display of manhood. Tucker seemed not to be able to stop feeling his own muscle as it grew thicker and denser. Larry stepped up to him and began to join his monster friend in feeling, massaging the gigantic boulders of hairy muscle hanging on his incredibly broad and growing chest.
He grabbed the throbbing, spraying cock. There was no way he could get his hand around it and it had to be over two feet long now. He heard Tucker breathlessly crying for him to take it, take it. He held the gigantic head to his face, then licked around the spouting slit. His lust and hunger overtook him, and he drank as much of Tucker's cum as he could, and when he was full and still crazy with desire, he turned and positioned himself asshole to cockhead and began to push back onto Tucker's rod. As soon as he made contact, he felt Tucker grab his waist and thrust hard. He was sure he screamed. It felt like he was being impaled on someone's leg, but his lust was so intense that the very size of the gigantic tool inside him was driving to the heart of his insatiable need for more. Tucker was still pouring cum out of his cock, and he held Larry tight against him as he flooded his gut.
Even when Larry had been filled to the point that he could feel his belly distending and cum running out of him and down his legs, Tucker held him hard against him. The more Larry felt filling inside him, the more he wanted it.
There was no way he could get enough. Until he began to feel the heat in his own belly and the convulsing in his muscles begin.
Tucker could barely catch a breath from the relentless orgasm he was having.
It didn't seem to matter how much he came. He just felt himself getting more and more turned on, hornier, constantly more erotically charged. Even as he pumped a steady stream of his juice into Larry he could feel himself growing bigger, thicker, heavier. He was so in love with the feeling of his muscles growing so much more massive so fast that there was no way now that he could have enough of the feeling, no way he could ever get big enough.
It seemed like the juice he had taken from Larry was even more concentrated in its effect than the original dose he had been given. It was incredible.
If only he could get more. And then, when he saw Larry, still impaled on his churning cock, begin so show the signs of convulsing, he knew that they were each producing a more concentrated version of the formula by its very action within them. No wonder it was such an intense sexual sensation and experience. The whole thing was sexual in its most basic nature. The muscles, the body hair, the amazing growth of their genitals, all of it was the expression by the body of an unleashing of the deepest essence of physical male sexuality.
Even as those thoughts were crowding in on his consciousness, he saw them confirmed. Larry began contracting, his already huge glutes squeezing Tucker's cock so hard he thought he might burst, if it didn't feel so good.
Tucker saw, immediately, that Larry's lats and delts were swelling again.
From his position behind him, Tucker couldn't believe how Larry's back began to flare like a cobra's hood, how his bowling ball delts began to look more like basketballs. He put his hands on Larry's butt to slide himself out, and he could feel the iron pulsing of those glutes swelling into larger boulders.
When he pulled his cock out, he was shocked at how much it had grown inside his friend. He turned him around.
Larry was grinning, his eyes rolling up into his head with the extreme ecstasy he was feeling. He could only keep saying how incredible he felt, how unbelievable this was. He was massaging his own pecs, feeling their hard, swelling contours, pressing the heels of his hands hard into their sides, pushing against them as he felt them pushing out, broadening, thickening. They were beyond enormous. His arms were so huge it was difficult to bent them very far before his forearms were stopped by the ham-like biceps bursting on his upper arms. His lats had pushed them above forty-five degrees. His thighs forced his legs farther apart even though his quads firmly pressed against each other almost to his knees, to where his balls rested now, two very large grapefruits churning with his sex. His cock projected straight out from his increasingly hairy groin, more than two feet of thick, veiny manhood, and as his cries of ecstasy increased, he began to shoot, just like Tucker. Now both of them were standing in the pool, Tucker bigger than the biggest bodybuilder, and Larry bigger than him by half, both of them still swelling, and both of them shooting non-stop volleys of heavy cream.
They laughed and they moaned with constant, growing erotic animal pleasure.
They shot all over each other. They rubbed the slippery cum into the hair that was still growing thicker on each other's torsos, enjoying the feel of their mass, their deep cuts, the mounds and boulders of harder, denser, bigger muscles.
After a few more minutes, when Tucker saw how enormous Larry was becoming, still swelling, veins popping all over his body, his skin thinner and thinner as the muscle beneath stretched it like tissue, He realized that Larry's growth was even more extreme than his after he had taken a belly full of Larry's juice. So the combination of the original dose plus Larry's cum had magnified the strength of the process in him, and what he gave to Larry had been that much stronger. That meant that what Larry was shooting out of his cock now would probably be stronger still by that much more concentration.
He looked at Larry's cock, which was like the thick end of a baseball bat and nearly a yard long, he guessed. Could he take it? He wanted to. He wanted it bad. He playfully forced it down below the water, feeling how it was so stiff that it felt spring- loaded, and let it go. It sprang up, to their delight, with a thwack hitting Larry in the face. Tucker reached up, took its frighteningly huge head and brought it down as he turned around to his own huge, hard bubble butt. He pushed back onto it, felt it stretch him until he thought his flesh would tear. But something about this transformation also seemed to increase his capacity to open and accommodate such a tool, because he felt Larry's hands on his waist, then the pressure of his friend pulling his back as he thrust forward, and with a blinding flash of hot, erotic pain, he felt himself fill with Larry's hot flesh. He could feel the juice pumping into him. It was so hot that he tried to stand still and just experience the sensation. His own cock was still ejaculating. He had been ejaculating for at least an hour, and he couldn't believe he wasn't exhausted, but the intensity of the orgasm kept growing stronger and energizing him. He would let Larry fill him for as long as he could stand it. If he could, he would stay on this giant cock until he felt himself growing more, growing faster. The water in the pool was becoming cloudy with their cum.
Tucker had no ideas how long he had stayed on Larry's cock. He remembered that when his arms were resting almost straight out to his sides and had grown bigger than a bodybuilder's legs, Larry had been forceful about having another turn himself. He vaguely remembered that they each took several more turns. He remembered that, no matter how big their cocks had grown, they seemed to be able to stretch to take them in, even when they were much to long to take more than half their lengths. He remembered, at one point, that they were going to get out of the pool and try to pose for each other, but they found that they were so heavy that it was almost impossible to balance themselves and stand up without the help of the buoyancy of the water. So they had stayed in the pool. Their cocks grew too long to reach the throbbing, insistent cockheads themselves, but that was not problem since they couldn't get enough of doing it for each other. They didn't give a fuck about the consequences when they realized their dicks extended over their heads; it was just too fucking hot having such gigantic cocks. They completely lost any sense of time as the night wore on and they took turns impregnating each other with stronger and stronger doses of the growth factor, and getting more and more lost in the intensity of the erotic sensations of their growing mass.
They never even heard Larry's phone ring, late the next morning, when they hadn't shown up at the office. About ten o'clock, Sean Gallagher came to check. The new potential clients had shown up for a nine o'clock appointment. Sean had first checked at Tucker's house and found no one home.
So he came to Larry's. He found them in the pool.
Sean was in shock at what he saw. He had talked to Larry about the new product, and had known more than Tucker about what these guys were up to. He had even been kind of excited to see how it worked on Larry, because, deep, secret truth be known, he had always wanted to have a body like a bodybuilder without having to do all the work to get it. But in his wildest imaginings, he had never conceived of anything like what he saw that morning.
The two of them were oblivious to him when he walked onto the patio. They were facing each other, leaning against the side of the pool for support.
They stood there, the two most grotesquely, monstrously muscular men ever conceived in the brain of the most obsessed muscle freak, massaging, caressing, feeling each other's bodies, lost in the sensations. Projecting from the groin of each of them, resting on the shoulder of the other like a pair of crossed swords, lay their cocks, projecting above and beyond their heads, spurting thick, heavy cream like fountains into the water.
Sean didn't know what to do. He was terrified. He called their names. When they finally took notice of him, they said he would have to help them out of the pool. They obviously wouldn't be getting dressed and coming into the office. Sean noticed they weren't at all upset about the freaks they had become. He didn't know what to do about getting them out of the pool, since he was wearing his suit. Tucker told him to just take his clothes off. He'd need to take a fast shower anyway, since the pool water was a swamp of milky juice, a layer almost coagulated on the surface.
Sean was mildly disgusted by the prospect, but he couldn't leave them there, so he laid his clothes neatly on a chaise. He also felt a little, dark thrill at the sight of these two hairy muscle monsters with their monster dicks. As he tried to help them move out of the water, they got him laughing at the difficulty of maneuvering such mass. He was immediately slippery, too, with the juice surrounding him. They slid around, Sean having to grab their immense muscles as he tried to help them balance. It was impossible to stay out of the way of the fountains of spunk that were still spurting into the pool. He was soon so covered, in his flailing attempts, that he had to accept getting some in his mouth. He didn't swallow much, but the concentration level had increased so much that it didn't take very much before he felt a strange heat in his belly.