Hey, buddy

By Dream Big 
6 parts
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• Latest update: 9 November. Next update: 23 November. (Submissions welcome.)

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Part 1

“Hey, buddy!”

I hadn’t recognized the number, but for some reason the ring seemed familiar. It made no sense, but I just picked up without thinking, something I never do. It was usually a robocall these days, with the shouting Chinese lady or the vacation sales lady or the credit offers.

But this was Charlie, unmistakably. I knew his pleasant voice and easy demeanor instantly. That slight bit of raspiness that made him sound like he was just waking up. There was a quality to his voice that made him sound like he was grinning.

I’d always loved hearing his voice.

“Hello?”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah, bro! It’s me! You home?”

“Almost. I’m on 95 about twenty minutes out. I almost didn’t pick up…”

“Oh yeah, sorry. I uh, got a different phone.”

“So what’s up with you? I haven’t heard from you in ages…”

“Heh. Yeah, it’s quite a story, man. Nah, I’m back in town for a bit. Figured I’d see what you were doing.”

“Not much. I was going to drop my stuff and go grab a bite, if you wanna join…”

“Where you living now?”

“213 Stoneybrook, behind the old movie house. Apartment 1.”

“Cool, meet you at your place in half an hour?”

“You got it.”

“Alright, bro, see ya!”


I drove the last ten miles distracted. You would too, if you were me. Fuck, man, Charlie had been my unconscious tormentor since middle school, when I finally started to put two and two together and realize I thought guys were hotter than girls. His lean, limber form and cute face had gained all the girls’ attention, but he was clueless, utterly without real vanity. Easy going was an understatement. Charlie was so chill people assumed he was a stoner, even though I couldn’t imagine him doing anything illegal. He just got along with everyone and had a knack for just coasting along through life. He’d lacked any real interest in sports, mostly because he wasn’t competitive, but the two coaches were always hoping he would try out for something.

In tenth grade the school’s new pool opened and my world changed. I’d always loved to swim, and I was pretty good at it, thanks to summers spent with my cousins and their big pool. Never particularly buff, I was nevertheless good enough to join the team.

But Charlie just liked to swim, and refused to race. He had charmed the assistant coach into letting him swim before team practice and I started showing up early for practice, just to watch him. Then I’d bang out a quick one in the bathroom before stuffing myself into my trunks for practice.

By senior year, however, Charlie seemed a bit left behind—not that he cared. The rest of us sprouted hair and muscle, and I came out (to little surprise from my swim buddies). Charlie stayed lean and limber, and seemed destined to remain a slightly tall twink who barely looked his age. Cute as a button though, without losing his masculinity. He let his hair grow and had this shaggy carefree look to him.

I had art class with Charlie (who of course was talented in that as well), and we actually hung out at lunch. He didn’t seem to mind me being gay, and gradually we became friends and hung out after school. Then, in spring, we started fooling around a little after a movie. He was my first boyfriend.

We never did much more than kiss and fool around—handjobs, blowjobs, that sort of thing—but despite that, we were happy enough. There’s something to be said for avoiding the drama.

We had lasted the summer, but college made things hard, since we were several states away. We sort of drifted apart after his folks moved away, but kept more or less in touch throughout college. By then, it was obvious things were over, partly because I was annoyed at always being the one who did all the work.

Charlie just never put much effort into anything, and i was tired of always busting my ass and being the one who drove our relationship. Plus, college had brought too much temptation my way, and I ended up in an intensely sexual relationship with my roommate Kevin. And once I’d discovered sex, I had trouble justifying a long distance relationship with a cute but lazy masturbation buddy I saw only at break. Junior year, I finally told him I was seeing someone else (Kevin had been hot but brief, but this boy Jacob was feeling serious at the time), and he was so chill about it, I actually got mad and stopped returning his texts.

By the time college was over, Jacob—an ROTC cadet who looked really crisp and hot in uniform, and was very solidly built—had broken up with me, and I’d been broken hearted. I’d sent this long rambling email to Charlie, but never heard back, so I assumed he was done with me. I got over it, graduated, found a job, and had been working about five months when I got the mystery phone call.

Man, Charlie… was he still a hot twink? I hadn’t seen him in person in more than two years, and he was awful about keeping up with social media and returning calls. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to know. Memories of his lean torso kept creeping into my mind as I drove home. That, and of course, his dick.

Charlie was about 5’9, quite average really, but he had a very good looking dick. A respectable 5.75 inch, perfectly shaped, good smelling, slightly curved cylinder, one that I could almost feel in my hand. I could instantly recall his scent, full of rosemary shampoo and fresh deodorant, but mostly full of charlie’s Earthy musk. Funny how a scent can hit you hard. Literally, I sprung wood myself remembering.

I pulled up to my crappy apartment, ran inside, whispered a quiet thanks that I’d inherited my mother’s inclination to tidiness, and ran to the loo to freshen up. I was drying my hands when the buzzer rang.

“Hey, buddy, it’s me!” Ah, that voice.

I buzze him in and waited to open the door as the tell tale sound of someone thumping up the stairs grew louder. Then, a knock, and I opened the door… .


That was not Charlie.

It couldn’t be.

This guy was over six feet tall, and built. A blue t shirt barely contained a chest that would make a Marvel Chris phone his personal trainer. It was tight enough you could see the hint of abs beneath, and the arms were straining his sleeves deliciously. Below that, a pair of jeans were painted on but the bulge in the front was not what I remembered at all. His face, and his shaggy brown hair streaked with golden blond, were the same. The button hose and thick eyebrows over green blue eyes.

My brain wouldn’t process it. Did Charlie have a brother who was, say, a fitness model? Was I being pranked?

Part 2

I stood there like a complete idiot for a good ten seconds before he broke the ice.

“You gonna invite me in, bro?”

“Oh! Yes, please.”

He stepped in and I closed the door, never fully taking my eyes off him as he shucked a large backpack and dropped a canvas duffel by the door. Then he pulled me in for a big hug. He smelled like Charlie—rosemary, deodorant, and Charlie musk, but also something salty.

My body was in a state of confusion, torn between confusion and arousal, enjoying the scent of him and the feel of him, both familiar and strange.

“Can I get you, uh, something to drink?”

“Water would be great, or maybe iced tea if you got unsweetened,” he said. I nodded and gestured to the table, and he sat as I poured two glasses of tea. I sat across from him, still in shock, as he gulped down half the glass in one go.

“Thanks buddy!” He smiled. “So how have you been?”

“Good… Charlie, what the hell happened to you?”

“Oh, this? Heh. Well it’s kind of what I am here to talk about. But first, you don’t have a roommate or anything do you?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not presently.”

“Awesome. Can I crash here for a few days?”

I had to think about that for all of a second.

“Sure, but why?”

“Bro, you wouldn’t believe the half of it. Can’t stay with the folks, they ain’t cool with the situation.”

“What situation do you mean?” I asked carefully.

“Come on bro. I mean this,” he said gesturing at himself. “Mom freaked out. She thinks I took drugs or made a pact with the devil or something, and my stepdad never really approved of the whole gay thing anyway. I thought they were cool with me but I guess not. It’s a bummer,” he said.

Only Charlie could shrug off a disowning like that. His mom had always been a little weird, and the stepdad was religious, but this was the first I had heard of any bad blood in Charlie’s home.

“Of course you can stay,” I said, “but on one condition. You have to tell me what the heck happened to you.”


“Dude, it’s so messed up. You probably won’t believe it. But you remember how scrawny I used to be right?”

I remembered every inch of his lean, twink body, of course, but I just nodded.

“So check it out. I took this aquatic bio class mostly because it seemed like it would be fun, and it was. The prof was this gnarly old former surfer dude, and he kinda took me under his wing. I did my homework assigned reading everything. So this was about two years ago. Anyway, I chose that as a major and really started paying attention. It was awesome. I should have a degree in it by now but I blew off some requirement early on, and I need like one more class to get the paper.”

“Anyway… so the prof has this senior seminar thing where we help him on field research on his boat, and about ten of us went out for a week. And one day, during a bad storm, prof just keels over and dies.”

“Oh my god!”

“Yeah, it sucked. He was maybe seventy. Just had a stroke or something. But we were way out and none of us were that good at navigating. We didn’t have too much experience but between us we managed to ride out the storm and get the boat to this rocky bit of land. Anyway, I was clumsy and slipped off the boat while trying to secure us. Cracked my head against the rocks on the way down, and that’s pretty much it.”

“Clearly not, since you’re here.”

“Oh right. I mean that was it for what I remembered. The guys tried to find me but they were pretty traumatized and scared. But they got the radio working and the coast guard got out there that night. They sent out search parties because the water wasn’t all that deep where I fell, but they figured the undercurrent got me. Then, officially, the same day they were giving up the search, I washed up about fifteen miles away, got found by a very pretty lifeguard, and woke up in an ambulance.”

“Seriously? That’s insane. No wonder your mom freaked out. I’m a little pissed nobody said anything… .”

“You don’t know the half of it yet. See, I still looked mostly the same found me, but I didn’t have a scratch on me. No evidence of cracking my head, no worse for the wear for being overboard, nothing. I was fine, so I went home. Answered a bunch of questions about my poor old prof until the cops got the autopsy results. And then I slept for like two days.”

He idly scratched at his neck. “That’s when things started to get weird. I ate like crazy, and figured I was making up for lost time at sea. I took loads of long showers. I felt restless so I started taking long walks, then runs. This was for like two weeks after they pulled me off the beach. And then one day I realized my clothes were all too tight. Come to find out, I had grown three inches, put on like twenty pounds, and the only shoes that fit were my sandals.”

“Anyway, I was supposed to follow up with the doctor after two weeks, and figured I’d ask about it. But I was already beginning to wonder, because I knew I had really cracked my head good, and there wasn’t even a scar. Now I was taller and buffer? Something was off.”

“So I ended up seeing a different doc and he just brushed me off, complaining about records being out of date. He barely looked me over, but the nurses sure did when they measured me and took samples. I heard them talking. But the doc did ask about my tattoo, and I was like ‘I don’t have a tattoo’, but sure enough I had one on my lower back. See?”

God help me, he pulled his shirt up, revealing everything the stretchy garment had poorly hid. There it was, just above the swell of his perky butt. It was unusual, a blue and green tattoo of seven fish scales surrounded by seaweed, about two inches across. Really good work, too.

“Complete mystery to me, man. I literally have no idea what really happened to me, but no maybe the tattoo is involved. But whatever, you know me. No worries, right?”

“So a few more weeks go by and I keep getting a little bigger, and I always feel restless and pent up. Eventually I sign up for the alumni gym and remember how much fun I had swimming in school. After the boat, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back in the water, but I went in anyway. And so for about three more weeks, I went swimming for a few hours every day. I packed on more muscle and more height. Everyone noticed and I think it must have freaked out the guys from class, because they kept avoiding me. Or maybe they were just feeling guilty for it rescuing me, but I’m okay, so no big.”

“Charlie, you’re right, that makes no sense at all. You’re telling me all this is from this summer? You grew six or seven inches taller and put on all this muscle in four months?”

“Nah, bro. It’s the truth. And it was just since July. But my funds ran out and my folks wanted me home. And you know the rest. I was gonna look you up anyways, but I didn’t think I would need to crash here. Sorry…”


The incredible tale aside—and Charlie was never one for making stuff up—I simply could not say no to my friend, not when he needed me. And I half figured he was suffering from some kind of trauma. But there was no denying how hot he had become and I was also feeling an intense physical attraction to my ex.

So we got him settled in and grabbed some food and made dinner, and sat half watching anime for old times sake, but mostly catching up. It was like nothing had changed… except he had gone from twink right past twunk and into muscle hottie. He smelled fantastic and looked better, and when he fell asleep cuddled up on the couch, I had to use all my self-control not to jump his bones right there. Instead, I switched off the TV and slowly extricated myself…

“Don’t go, Ben,” he said. “Please.”

I sat back down and he pulled me close for a hug.

Yeah, it’s the same old story. Falling for your ex all over again, right?

I’ll cut past the tentative kisses that gave way to hot making out, the desperate pawing at each other, the hurried shucking of pants… yeah, I’ll cut right to the part where his cut, 5.75 inch perfectly shaped dick was somehow replaced by an uncut, 9 inch monster. Same shape, but much bigger. His eager balls roiled in their sack, but the shock was a little too much for me and took me right out of the moment.

“Oh,” he said, red faced, “yeah, there’s that, too.”

Part 3

“That’s just not fair,” I complained. “You get hotter and a bigger dick?” I couldn’t look away.

He laughed. “Dude, I don’t know about fair, but I ain’t complaining. Except—ooh… .mmmm.”

As distractions go, blowing someone is high on the list, and deep throating a 9-inch cock like a pro certainly focused him on me rather quickly. What can I say? I couldn’t help myself.

I really went to town on him, using every trick I knew and at least one I invented on the spot. Ten glorious minutes later (or possibly three hours, for all I knew), I felt the pressure reach a crescendo.

“Aw man, I’m gonna… gonnna—” he said, and then did. Spectacularly, and far more copiously than I’d ever dealt with before. I couldn’t swallow it fast enough and I got some in my nose, which I don’t recommend at all.

Sure enough, he was out like a light after my ministrations. I lay next to him enjoying our cuddle. But I found sleep elusive; once the immediate lust was seated, I couldn’t stop thinking about his changed physique, how anyone else would have flipped out but he just went with the flow. But more, the mysterious circumstances of his astonishing changes utterly captured my imagination… .


Eventually, I had to get up. I carefully pulled myself free, did the usual morning bathroom stuff, and emerged in crisp khakis and button down.

“Hey buddy where ya going?” Charlie sat up, clad in nothing but loose-fitting boxers. Damn, he looked good.

“Charlie, I’m really sorry, but I have to go to work. Help yourself to whatever in the fridge. There’s a blue and grey towel on the rack, and if you need a toothbrush there are spares in the drawer. There’s a spare key on the hook if you need to go out. I’ll get one made for you on the way home.”

“Awwww. Okay, bro. I’ll be here.” And he gave me a quick kiss goodbye that sent my pulse racing.


All day, I tried, in vain, to get work done. In reality, I was half-assing it, punctuating my spreadsheet crunching with brief searches (on my cell, not the work computer!) for any clues to Charlie’s mysterious evolution. Sure enough, I found a record of the incident, but not much more detail than he’d given himself. Searching for symptoms merely left me looking at naughty story and image sites or ads for pills and training programs. Then my boss came to talk to me about something for like an hour and I zoned out waiting for him to finish rattling on. Eventually, he left and I went back to powering through my edits and occasionally searching on my cell.

Around 4, I got a text from Charlie.

CHARLIE: Hey buddy. I went to the store again. Making dinner. You good with salmon?
BEN: Sure. When did you learn to cook?
CHARLIE: When I had to, man. Nothing fancy. Maybe grab some wine or beer?
BEN: OK

How incredibly domestic it seemed. Even so, I was smiling broadly the whole last hour, and during the ride home.

The salmon was delicious—he’d snagged some really fresh fish and it was barely seared, with a little ponzu sauce and toasted sesame seeds. Brown rice and green beans. Who knew? He’d taken a cooking class at college, and had a nose for good fish. I was shocked to find he’d bought it whole and cleaned it himself. He’d also canvassed the area for short term employment prospects.

“No big,” he’d said. What happened to the annoyingly directionless boy I knew? Sexy and talented? Powerful aphrodisiac. Or maybe he just smelled amazing and I was inclined to be more forgiving now. We barely finished washing up before things devolved into sex. He was insatiable—and frankly so was I. I was so turned on by him it wasn’t funny, and it seemed oddly mutual.


For two weeks, things went more or less like that. Somehow we became That Couple, and I was stupidly happy. He did most of the cooking (loads of seafood and greens and grains, or lean meats) and pitched in without my asking. He even lured me down to the gym in my building, and we did some basic workouts. With him, it seemed more fun.

I spent so much time with him, I’d barely notice the gradual changes until one morning in the gym when his slightly tight shirt just … split.

“Aw no, man! I loved that shirt! What the hell?”

“Man, you must have had a heck of a pump,” I said, jogging on the treadmill. “Or maybe you need to look at the washing instructions.”

“Nah, bro, I don’t think that’s it. Do you mind measuring me?”

“Sure, last time you came in at 49 inches, right?”

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “And now?”

“Whoa… are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I got 53 inches here,” I said. “And 18 and two thirds for your biceps!”

We shared a look of mild confusion.

“But that was just the other day…” he said. “Shit, man, I thought I was done growing, but I think it’s happening again.”

Yeah, it was. He was right, there wasn’t anything other than basic “stay in shape” stuff in his workout plan, and he wasn’t lifting heavy enough to really pump up much. And yet he’d added a few inches of brawn over the last few days.

“I’m not 100% convinced we didn’t misread it the other day. So let’s just measure and track it from now on, until we know what’s what.”

“You just like making this nerdy,” he half-smiled. “You’re making a spreadsheet in your head, aren’t you?”

“Guilty.”


Damn right I made a spreadsheet—and we started measuring and tracking daily.

Five more days, and he’d gained another inch in height and added another half inch everywhere else, while his remaining fat seemed to evaporate, despite us taking a break from the weight room.

And when I say everywhere, I mean it. Yeah, I insisted on measuring. His dick had gained as well, and he now sported a full 10 inches. It was unreal how much he came when he cut loose. But we’d avoided anything that involved putting his big dick in my ass, because it was just so big. And apparently it was getting bigger.

And fuck if it wasn’t an even bigger turn on for me.

Part 4

Another two weeks passed, and Charlie hadn’t stopped growing, though the rate of change seemed all over the place. One day he would have slightly longer fingers and nothing else would change for two or three days, and then overnight he was half an inch taller. Somehow tracking it in a spreadsheet made me okay with the oddness of the situation. Charlie of course just rolled with it, unbothered.

He’d found occasional work hauling boxes, and the physical labor was kind to him—not all of his newfound buffness was mysterious. He was earning those muscles, just… at an accelerated rate, apparently. No contact with his family either.

I was really enjoying his presence (not just the fucking and hotness, but the chars and cuddling), but the mystery kept gnawing at me. And then, I randomly called some radio contest thing, and won a weekend vacation to some new island resort. Work was super cool about it, and there was lucky timing. So that’s how we found ourselves headed to White Sands with a few days clothing and a little cash, and not much else. Though I did bring a measuring tape.

The flight was uneventful, and the hotel was quite nice, being new. A team of incredibly hunky island boys hovered constantly nearby, but Paolo, our room attendant, was particularly cute. As he showed us around the room, he clearly had trouble not staring at Charlie. Though to be fair, he had more than one lingering glance at me.

Charlie nonchalantly ditched his shirt the minute he got in the door, but when he turned around and bent to take his shoes off, Paolo gasped.

“Sorry! I just noticed your tattoo, is very nice. Who did the work?”

“I don’t remember where I got it,” Charlie said.

Paolo ran down the list of rules and safe locations for us.

“I suspect you will want to swim. The pool is being cleaned, and the beach is usually busy, but if you want to know a secret, there is a hidden cove I know, very good for swimming… .”


Charlie was in the pool as soon as it reopened. I longed to be in there with him, but my stomach was feeling a little dodgy after the flight, so I lingered by the poolside, watching my sexy friend delight in simply being in the water.

“Your friend, he is a very strong swimmer, no?”

I looked up to find Paolo and his too bright smile. He’d brought a fizzy vodka lemonade drink that seemed to be a house special.

“He always was, since we were kids,” I answered, grateful accepting the drink.

“You like him very much, I think.”

There was something in his voice that I didn’t quite like. Or maybe I just didn’t understand. Nobody batted an eye when we verified we had one bed rather than two.

“I do. Is that a problem?”

“What? Oh no, mister Ben, not a problem. This hotel is very modern. I meant nothing bad,” he explained. “I am very happy for you both. But you seem very different. From each other.”

“Ah, you noticed,” I said, wryly.


Dinner was light and lovely, and we decided to go check out one of Paolo’s recommended spots after we ate. Partly hidden by lush vegetation and partly by a quirk of the land, a small crescent shaped lagoon offered a magnificent view of the setting sun.

We strolled along the sandy beach, and found a perfect spot to sit and cuddle, nursing our drinks.

“This,” Charlie said, leaning in for a sweet kiss, “does not suck. Nobody but us, and this view.”

“I like that view,” I said, then rolled over and straddled him. “I like this view better.”

The moment I did that, I felt his dick harden—anyone would have, a ten-inch beast like that tended to announce itself—and I could feel my temperature rise. He grabbed me a little less than gently, kissing me with passion. Our tongues dueled playfully as we stripped our meager clothing, and then things began in earnest. He was nearly too big to enter me, not without prep and lube, but his copious precum was well on its way to slicking things up. He felt enormous.

Wait, he really did feel enormous.

Took me right out of the zone, for a moment. I had to know, and I had come prepared.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” He asked, innocently.

“Just want to get some data,” I smiled, rummaging in my bag.

I measured him, as sensuously as I could.

“Wow,” I said.

“I know, it’s big,” he said.

“Bigger. As in, your dick is bigger.”

“Whoa, really?

“Yeah, couldn’t you tell?”

“It always felt pretty big to me,” he laughed, “but what do I know?”

“Well, congratulations, you have an eleven-and-a-half-inch dick,” I said. “How the hell did your get that much bigger since Tuesday?”

“Fuck if I know,” he laughed. “Is it a problem?”

“If it gets much bigger it might be,” I said, stroking its silky steel. “Aside from logistical concerns I have about how much of that will fit, there’s the question of whether we need to buy another seat for the flight home…”

“Hah. Hey, know what we haven’t ever done?”

“No, what?”

“Fucked in the water at sunset.”

Giggling like very naughty children, we splashed into the water until we were up to our chests and resumed our fooling around. As the daylight faded, the bright moon and stars seemed to pick up the slack, but that wasn’t the only thing. Lichen on the nearby rocks glowed with blue-green bioluminescence, which I studied intently as Charlie inched his way down my torso. I was in ecstasy; he was giving one hell of a blowjob, something he’d always done with gusto, but now, Jesus, he was insatiable! On and one we went, as he teased and sucked and otherwise tormented me for a good ten minutes.

I was so caught up in it that I didn’t notice he hadn’t come up for air.

Part 5

Charlie kept sucking away at my dick, and he wasn’t coming up for air… what the fuck?

It was surreal, as I looked at his head below the waterline, his shaggy hair flowing around his head as he bobbed back and forth. His talented tongue was working overtime, too, and my brain short-circuited as he hit just the right spot and I unloaded spectacularly. He greedily swallowed it as I stared at him, fuzzy headed and amazed.

He still hadn’t come up for air. But he looked up at me, and realization dawned in his eyes as he sensed my slow-burn panic. He shot suddenly to the surface.

“Whoa, buddy, what’s wrong?” He laughed. “You okay? I didn’t graze you with my teeth or something, did I?”

“No, that’s not—” I sputtered, “dude, you didn’t come up for air!”

“Oh, too intense? If you got another load in you, I can go slower—”

“Charlie. You were under the water for”—I checked my watch—”almost nine and a half minutes! How are you not gasping for breath?”

“No way, bro,” he said, slicking his hair back. “You must have counted wrong.”

But I hadn’t, and I knew it. I always had a good sense of time, and I had looked at my watch just before he went down on me. More importantly, I saw the look of doubt in his eye.

“I’m serious, Charlie. That was amazing but it shouldn’t have been possible. So I am going to ask you flat out. What the hell happened to you?”

He was uncharacteristically quiet. Then he seemed to reach a decision.

“Don’t freak, okay?” he asked.

“I can’t promise that,” I said.

“Dude, you know me. Nothing bugs me, but lately, I don’t know. I thought was getting the hang of this,” he said, gesturing at himself, “but I think maybe something weird is going on.”

“You think?”

“Dude, you don’t know the half of it,” he frowned. “I guess I was in denial for a while, and then I just hoped you wouldn’t notice all the weird stuff…”

“Charlie, you have been randomly growing since you moved in, and we have been logging it,” I said, “so of course, I was going to notice.”

“Not everything,” he said. “Because I haven’t shown you.”

“Shown me what?”

“Whatever… happened, it did something to me, something on top of getting bigger, stuff you wouldn’t notice.” He drew in a breath. “Did you notice I can see, like really well, in the dark? Or smell you from a hundred feet away?”

“…No, no I did not.”

“This under water stuff is just the latest. I feel like a freak. I’ve even been whacking off more.”

“I noticed. You usually pound one out in the morning, and you still want sex before breakfast.”

“Well, I do it more than that. Three days ago, we had sex what, three times? Well, I whacked off four more times that day.”

Whoa, that was a lot. He’d been a sexual dynamo that day.

“I don’t know what’s going on. And apparently the latest thing is holding my breath a really long time.”

“So you’re special. Maybe you’re a mutant like on the X-men.”

“Nah, man, I don’t want that. I just want to know what’s up. Between that and the mystery tattoo…”

He swung his perfect ass around to show the gleaming tattoo again.

“Hold up,” I said. I peered closer.

“Didn’t this used to have seven scales?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see it,” he said. “I think so?”

“Well, now it has nine. And it’s bigger…”


For whatever reason, that was what finally broke Charlie’s legendary chill attitude. You could see this dawning horror slowly wash across his handsome face, and a hint of fear shattered the calm his eyes usually held.

“Are you serious man? I mean, how does that even happen?”

Of course now it bothered him.

“How does what happen?” I snarked back. “The constant growth you’ve undergone, your huge cock, your newfound ability to hold your breath underwater, or your weird tattoo?”

But the minute I said it, I knew I’d made the wrong comment and I felt the slug of guilt to the gut.

“It’s not funny, buddy, I’m freaking out here!” He spun dramatically to face me, his face distraught. “I been trying to let it go, but the whole time I have been freaking out inside… .my whole fucking life is turned upside down and I’m some kind of mutant and I have no job and you are the only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit… .”

I pulled him close and hugged his hard, muscular torso tightly.

“It’s okay man. I’m here. I’m freaked too.”

We stood there like idiots in the water for probably three or four more minutes, never noticing the figure watching from behind a rocky outcropping a few dozen feet away.


We got back to the resort and took our time with dinner, both feeling awkward and concerned about the situation. Afterwards, we sat on our little veranda with a bottle of good whiskey and watched the moon for a bit in silence. And then we went to bed, without any kind of sex. For the first time since he showed up in my life again, the mood wasn’t right.

When I woke at four, it was to a muffled gasp and an empty bed, but it was still warm. I heard a faint sloshing sound, and crept quietly to the bathroom.

Charlie was face down in the overfilled giant tub.

Momentarily panicking, I ran to his side, only for him to pop up and shake his head, and glance twice at his fancy waterproof watch with a shocked expression. Then he noticed me.

“Sorry, buddy, did I wake you up?”

“Not really? Kind of? Dude, what the hell were you doing?”

He sighed. “I woke up feeling weird. And my skin was so dry and I felt stiff and achy. I wanted a warm bath. And it felt so good on my dry skin, I just laid here for a bit until the water started to get cool. I was looking at my feet, which were sore, and kind of rubbing them. And then I thought, fuck it, I should see what I can do, how long I can really hold my breath.”

“And?”

“After about five minutes, I realized I was not really holding my breath.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I was breathing. The water. Through my nose, I think. But I think I am okay now,” he said. As if discovering you could breathe water was normal.

“Okay,” I said, sitting slowly on the toilet. “That’s cool, I guess…”

“Ben, man, that ain’t all. Not like I could hide this from you anyway.” And with that, he pulled up one handsome long-toed foot… and proceeded to stretch his toes. The seemed unusually long suddenly, and the skin between the toes seemed odd. He flexed his toes and I realized his toes were longer, nearly as long as his fingers, and the webbing went more than halfway down each toe.

“Whoa,” I said.

Part 6

“How long has this been going on?”

“I noticed my toes were longer the other day. Just a bit. But this is a little freaky,” he said, tentatively wiggling his long, half-webbed toes.

“Your dick is almost a foot long, Charlie, and you’ve been packing on size like no tomorrow—and apparently you can now breathe underwater?”

“Everything else was cool and made you happy,” he said, smiling.

“You are amazing,” I said, kissing him. “But I really wish I knew what was going on.”

“Me too,” he said.


The next thing we noticed, the following morning, was that his hands were bigger. And the reason we noticed was that I rolled over and he was half awake, dreamily stroking his cock.

“Did your cock shrink?”

“Huh?” Yup, he wasn’t even really awake yet.

I placed my hand next to his, grabbing the top half of his foot long (and I guessed he had hit that mythical mark overnight as he slept), and the difference was obvious. He’d gone from a little bit bigger than me to making my hand look like a child’s. Eyes wide open and fully awake, we compared hands palm to palm. Not only was his hand half again as wide as mine, but his fingers outreached my fingertips by a full knuckle and a half. And he had slightly deeper webs between his fingers, too.

“Shit, man,” he said. On one level, something finally rattled his calm. But on the other, he wasn’t the only one growing concerned.

“Wait,” I said, and reached for the measuring tape.

The tape unfurled, from top base along the shaft. Without his enormous mitt around it, the size was much more evident. The 12-inch mark hit just below his cock head, near as I could tell from the bulge of the foreskin. The verdict?

“Fourteen and one quarter inches,” I said, swallowing hard. That was a massive gain, unlike anything we’d seen over the last few months. “And seven and a quarter around.”

“Fuck,” he said. He started angrily stroking his huge dick. “I’m too big. This is too much, so fucking big, but I don’t wanna hurt you, buddy!”

I hated seeing him upset, but angry masturbation proved an unexpected turn on and my lust switch flipped to ON. I looked at his dick hungrily, feeling my pucker twitch. I thought I could just about take him… .

We were lost in lust, and just starting our third round of the morning, when Charlie’s thrusts were interrupted by a solid knock at the door. Straining, he bottomed out in me, eliciting a moan and a spurt or two from my well drained cock. By any measure I was reaching personal bests lately, but I was finally flagging.

“One sec, bro!” he yelled. “Uno momento, por favor!”

Gently he pulled out, still hard and seemingly ready to go again with his monster. I pulled the covers over, soaked though they were, out of modesty, while he grabbed a pillow and tried in vain to shield his junk from view.

Paolo entered with a shy but knowing smile, pushing a cart of food. Grilled fish, eggs, toast, and mimosas. And a stack of fresh towels.

“I suspected you might be hungry by now. You were a little loud, I am afraid.” He said, with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Also, fresh towels for the beach, if you wish to go there. Did you enjoy it?”

“Oh yeah, man, that beach was great, Charlie replied, as though he weren’t hiding his 14-plus inch monster behind a pillow and wasn’t covered in cum, and I wasn’t lying in bed like a used up fleshlight. “Probably go back today.”

Paolo nodded happily, looking at Charlie. “I bet you liked it a lot. You take coffee with sugar and cream, yes?”

“He does,” Charlie nodded at me. “I just want some water this morning.”

Paolo nodded warmly at me. “You look like maybe you have not rested so well. Perhaps a massage?”

“Thanks, but I think the coffee and food is what I really need. And a hot shower.”

“Then I will leave you to it,” Paolo said. “By the way, mister Charlie, it seems the sea air agrees with you, no? You look very healthy today. They say it is like magic for some people.”

And with a wave and small bow, he backed out of the room, shutting the door.


We ate like we’d been fucking all morning, which of course we had. Even without that, Charlie’s remarkable evolution—I had to think of it that way, like he was some sort of fantasy creature that was leveling up, or I might start to get panicky—had to have extracted a toll on his calorie reserves. Already he looked leaner, yet more muscular, than the day before. Either way, we were both famished, and concerns about whatever was happening seemed elusive for the moment.

“I’m still not sure I understand fish for breakfast,” I said, crunching my way through the toast. “I guess England and japan both do it, though. It’s not bad, but I like bacon, or better yet sausage, with my eggs.”

“And here I thought you had enough sausage,” Charlie smiled. “Besides, I like it. Really hits the spot. Good protein.”

I looked over at him as he ate. Some sort of local fish, lightly charred and pleasantly oily, but evidently he was enjoying them. I’d had one piece to his three. In fact, he out ate me two to one pretty much across he board, except for the toast. Now I was content to slurp my coffee, and let the food settle. I leaned against his beefy shoulder, finding myself much the same height relative to him, but his legs were longer.

“Guess we were both hungry,” he purred. “What else are you up for today?”

“We basically just have today and tomorrow. Then a red eye back.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying, but sooner or later they will want us to pay for something.”

“Yup. Though maybe we can get Paolo to accept payment in sex.”

“From me, or you?”

“I’m not the one he was staring at with his big brown eyes,” I chuckled.

Charlie fell silent. “We can joke, but it’s true. I am going to get a lot of stares. Jesus, am I even human anymore?”

“Human enough for me,” I kissed back. Somehow none of it was bothering me. I had a nagging feeling it should, but instead I brushed my hand against his firm abdomen and down to his nether regions.

“I’m serious,” he said. “At some point we need to figure out what to do. This isn’t like before. They didn’t find anything then.” He held up a massive hand. “They’re going to have to look a little closer, because this is definitely not nothing.”

I reached out and take his hand, and it felt like I was a child thanks to the difference in sizes. He was right, of course. But how odd that it was me, now, who sought to reassure him and blow off concern.

“Kiss me,” I demanded. He complied, a deep kiss, his longer tongue gently probing and easily overpowering my own as they danced. He tasted amazing, lemony and salty, probably lingering umami from the fish. I wanted nothing more than to stay here, enjoying his warm smooth skin and tasting his flesh.

“I love you,” I said.

“Me too,” he replied, somewhat sadly.

“I don’t want to leave. I don’t really want to go back, you know. I don’t hate my job but I don’t love it. This is fucking paradise.”

He hugged me tighter.

“I think we should enjoy it while we can,” he said. “Let’s go for a walk.”


Of course we found ourselves quickly annoyed with the crowded tourist areas, and Charlie was still feeling weird about his feet, so we made for the secluded cove Paolo had sent us to. It was miraculously deserted. I was sweaty, and quickly shucked my outer clothes, and Charlie was just as fast to shuck his. We stood there glistening for a moment, then made for the water, and I caught a glimpse of his tattoo as he passed.

It was much, much larger.

“Wait,” I said. I grabbed my phone and took a quick shot, and showed it to him.

Unmistakably larger, the design had grown until it was the size of my entire open hand. It kept much of the same pattern but the scaled area was much larger and more iridescent. The border seaweed spiraled out in intricate patterns, one right up his spine and halfway up his back.

“Holy crap,” he said.

“I think we can stop pretending this is anything other than supernatural, don’t you?” I sighed. “I can make all the notes I want, but this isn’t anything to do with science. Not now.”

“Do you think the water is making it worse?”

Or better? I thought. It might well be accelerating his changes. “I’m not sure, but there is one way to find out.”


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