You walked in the elevator, a guy standing there with the most insane cut abs taking a picture of himself. He didn’t care, he just stood there as you checked out that body. You noticed a thick, long imprint on his grey joggers. He knew you were looking, he grabbed it and started shaking it. It was for sure his dick growing bigger and harder.
He motioned me to come closer and then he pulled his semi hard hung cock from his pants. I got on my knees, as he pushed me down and forced it immediately in my mouth. He pulled down his joggers to his knees, and kept his short lifted for me to see his perfect abs and powerful thick chest. He wore a helmet so I couldn’t see his face, I didn’t know whose cock I had in my mouth.
I felt his cock getting fully erect, hard as steel and thicker than it was before he shoved it in my. He didn’t speak, but he just forced me to take it all the way. His big heavy low hanging balls hitting my chin as he face fucked me. His whole shaft down my throat I could hardly catch a breath. The taste of his dick leaking pre tasted salty yet also sweet as honey. The musky scent coming from his hairy bush covering his pubic area intoxicated me. He really skull fucked me hard, feeling his shaft moving in my throat, nearly choking I felt it throbbing. He groaned as I felt it throb again wildly as it blasted powerful jets of cum down my throat. He kept my head in place. It felt thick and the taste so sweet. He pulled his still hard shaft from my throat as the ding from the elevator sounded. He walked out without saying a word, leaving me on my knees and his seed in my stomach and mouth.
Four days later I came back from work, I stepped in the elevator. A big guy stepped in as well, when the door closed he said - “whattup slut” - confused I looked at him. “Maybe this you remember” he lifted his shirt up and I saw again those perfect abs. “A little cute fag like you is just what I need again. That pretty throat is probably nothing compared to that boy hole”, he continued: “come here” he flexed his big muscled arms as he pulled me closer. He groped my ass, slapped on it. He took my chin, ordered me to open my mouth. He spit straight away in my mouth and slapped it playfully.
“Come” he walked out and I followed him. Entering his place I noticed how disorganized and messy it looked. I saw clothes on the floor everywhere, he filled up a glass of water. I looked around as he gave it to me, ordering me to drink it. I gulped it down. We sat on the couch as he took his shirt off, I really liked his muscled body. I wanted to kiss him, but he directed me to his pecs. I kissed, licked and sucked on his nipples. He rubbed my head as he moaned softly. I started to feel really weak, lightheaded. I saw him however getting pumped up, his body looking like it got a decent pump. His short sprouting a massive tent.
“I gave you a pill to have those muscles relaxed, you gonna need it, I took something else. Keep me going, these balls are filled up. Last time I emptied them was in your mouth.”
He carried me to the bedroom, I moved my arms around his wide neck. When he threw me on the bed he straight away pulled me towards the edge. My legs being hold on the air, I felt him rubbing his big cock against my hole. He slowly penetrated me, it didn’t hurt at all. My hole just giving in and opening up for him. “Fuck, the drug works perfectly. You are taking my oversized alpha cock with ease. Taking my baseball bat sized meat. It’s so tight.”
I didn’t remember his cock this big, was he just having a semi last time. This is twice the size I had in my throat. When I looked down I could see shape of his cock moving as he thrusted in me. Too weak to do anything else I lay there taking his hard pounding. His muscled body looking so hot, I lay there moaning as he whored me out. He was loving how good my hole felt, until he suddenly stopped. “Fuck, you are just perfect for me. I bet you enjoy having a real alpha pounding you” I nodded. “I am taking another boost, fuck that safety crap” I looked as he walked away and picked up a pill and swallowed it down with some water. Right after he came back and went straight back to fucking me. “Yeah I got these amazing pills last week, alphazz. They turn you into the truest potential alpha male. I guess my potential is off the charts, this was my last one”. Still on my back I rode the waves of pleasure, his big cock throbbing inside me. It goes deeper than any cock has gotten before. My prostate assaulted with immense force. Staring at his perfect body I saw it changing before my eyes. His pecs enlarging, his whole body frame widening. My legs spread out as his shoulders broaden. He started roaring, that’s it. “You are mine now boy, watch me take my final and perfect form. When it’s done you will beg to be mine. Watch me change”.
I did just that, while he flexed and praised himself I saw him becoming bigger and hotter. Hair sprouting at all the right places, thick nice amount of fur covering his godlike physique. His jawline improving, now it could work as a snowplow so sharp. It as well got covered by a big fur, improving on his masculine features even more. His voice got noticeable deeper, when I definitely could feel my insides stretching even more. I watched as the shape of his cock inside my body enlarged.
He just then crawled on top of me, his musky manly scent of his furry chest invading my nose. He got himself on top of me, he began pumping again and with that my whole mind just shot off. It felt so good, I drooled and moaned. His face said it all. He loved what he had done to me, telling me I am now his little boy. His property, from now on I belong in his bed and take care of him. He said he is going to mark me as his own pretty soon, I knew he meant unloading those heavy balls. Heavy with thick fertile alpha cum, he pushed in all the way as the food gates opened. He pumped all he had in my guts. I felt it filling me, the warm seed of his. He left me gaping with his load leaking from me. Telling me that once I’m ready we will move my belongings to his place, and I’m gonna move in.
People who can transform into other people tend to have one part of a body they love. For me, dicks are cliché and ass is boring. I could see why people would like feet but I'm not that type of guy. But pecs. Sweet, sweet pectoralis major - the largest and superior muscle on the chest wall, that's where the gold is at.
Whenever I transform into other people, my pecs are the first thing I change. The feeling of having your man-boobs stretch and get filled with dense muscles is one of the most euphoric feelings a man could feel. Oh, the joy of waking up knowing that you can grab and squeeze both jigglers.
Most of the time, I like to keep them hairy. For me, hair in your chest exudes brimming manly strength. I like to cop a feel for my pecs and feel the light bristles of my hair run between my fingers. It's kind of therapeutic when I do that. Whenever I show them to other people, they either get intimidated or infatuated. I like both, but the latter gets you several invitations to the bedroom. When I do get invited, I always make sure to have my pecs satisfied.
Although, there are times when I like the absence of hair. I assume it's a placebo, but I'm more sensitive when I lack hair. I moan immediately when someone's finger explores my pecs and nipples. How I'd squirm when they circled my areolas. Or how I'd get to my knees when their tongue prods my nipples.
To make the best of both worlds, I like to keep a tiny patch of hair just between the two breasts. Such big and magnificent pectoralis pairs pretty well with a manly bearded face.
It's always fun saying, "Hey, my eyes are up here," whenever someone stares at my rack. I love it more when I grab their hands and tell them that it's okay to squeeze them. The fluster on their faces is always a priceless thing to see.
So, yeah. I'm the pecs guy. I love it. I'm practically obsessed with it. I don't think I'll ever change, and that's a good thing.
“Have I modeled the male form to your liking?”
The now-tall, now-hunky, now-human celestial being asked me, twisting and turning to check out its work: its perfectly replicated body modeled after my own. I grinned from ear to ear; ‘modeled the male form to my liking,’ for goddamn sure, it did! My exact liking, I’d say. I won’t say I haven’t jacked off in the mirror, admiring the work I’ve put into myself and getting off to my likeness.
What can I say?! I’m hot! I’m fully aware that I lucked the fuck out on the genetic lottery, Im just glad that I can enjoy myself as much as other people do too! Who knew my luck would continue when something cylindrical and silver crash landing in my backyard containing a tiny, humanoid being eager to learn everything about the human species. And I was eager to give him a very hands-on lesson.
I stepped toward it and felt it’s warm, firm musculature, it’s sides and front and arms rippling and bulging with new size. My size. I reached around the front of him and grabbed a handful of its toned, round ass. I grinded my hips against its front, feeling my stiffy press into his flaccid package covered by an exact replica of the briefs I was wearing. I grinned down at it and then looked up at him, cocking his head sideways with my blank expression.
“Is something wrong?”
“No way, man,” I assured it, sliding my hand into its briefs. “Just making sure you have everything right…”
I slid his replica of my underwear down and stifled a shocked laugh. Underneath the briefs, he had the shape and form of my package, but only as a series of lumpy mounds on his groin, smooth skin covering the bulging protrusion. I lowered the briefs all the way to the floor and chuckled, marveling at what I was seeing. I cupped the shape under my hand and squeezed softly, noticing that it maintained the right texture and malleability, just without the important bits.
“I sense something is definitely wrong.”
“It’s no problem, bud,” I patted his package, standing back up to face the copy of me at eye level. “You’re just missing some details.”
“Would you care to elaborate?” He asked in my deep voice, stepping forward eagerly towards me in the nude. “Forgive me for saying so, but I modeled myself only with what you were willing to display.”
“Of course, how rude of me,” I said with a grin, slipping my thumbs under my waistband. I lowered my own briefs all the way to the floor, joining my clone in the nude, my pre-slick cock hardened at full mast and swinging and bobbing lazily as it escaped the confines of my waistband. I scooped my package into my hands and jostled it around a bit, letting him watch its length swing around and observe how my big balls separate from my huge cock.
“Does that help?” I asked, bringing my hands behind me to squeeze my bare ass.
“It certainly does,” the being responded monotonously. He and I both looked down at his package and I gaped at what I saw.
The fleshy mound began to separate from his groin and soon swung down flaccid and shapeless. Then, the flaccid shape began to thicken and divide, the shaft separating from his ball sack, as each took on more shape and definition. He adjusted his position slightly and my knees almost gave out as I watched his cock suddenly lengthen and bulge obscenely larger and lift stiffly away from his waist, still hanging low with its own weight and curving slightly to the left. He now had a boner that mirrored mine exactly. His balls began to swell enough to hang heavily in their sack, like mine, and a thick vein began to snake up his shaft while a foreskin hood covered its swollen head, the tip barely peeking out, enflamed and angry. I looked down with a grin and took my cock into my hands, pulling back the foreskin all the way to show what it looked like underneath. Expressionless, he reached down and did the same and I watched with glee as his anatomy finally perfectly resembled mine.
He let go of his shaft and began to step around me, inspecting my body closely and getting a look at the places that were before covered up. I noticed as he walked around me that his ass had the same issue his package did, only taking the shape of my ass without any of its details. I felt him graze my own ass with his hands, studying it.
“May I?” He questioned politely.
“Do whatever you need to, man,” I responded with heavy breaths.
I felt him roll my glutes in his hands, feeling their warmth and firmness, as he dropped his hands lower under the underhang my round ass created, lifting each side up and letting it drop, watching my ass cheeks jiggle independently of one another. I took in a shuddering gasp as I felt a finger slide up my crack from my taint to where my back met my waist as he studied how asses work. I felt him spread my cheeks apart and ran a finger down and around my hole. I couldn’t fucking believe this was happening! My throat seized and my senses exploded as I felt him plunge a finger into my hole. I was seconds away from nutting. As quickly as he plunged his finger inside, he removed it.
“Apologies, did I cause you discomfort?”
“No!” I breathed out in a huffing laugh, a bead of pre dripping off my tip and onto the floor. “Quite the opposite.”
He stood back up from his kneeling position and walked back around me. I could see as he passed me that he now had a perfect, firm ass, exactly like mine. I bit my lip with a grin and playfully slapped his/my ass with a quick squeeze as he passed. He turned around with another expressionless cock of his head.
“It’s uhhh… A gesture of endearment in the human race.” I reasoned.
He nodded understandingly and moved back towards me, suddenly reaching around me and slapping my ass with a quick squeeze, exactly as I’d done it to him.
He knelt down in front of me and began to take a closer look at my erect dick. He moved his head from side to side, I suppose gauging whether or not he got the proportions right. He gingerly took my dick into his hand looked it over closely, his/my face mere inches from it.
“Is it always turgid?”
“Always what?”
“Firm. Hard. Is sense a pliability to it, it must retract somehow.”
I swallowed dryly. I mean, this being could be molded to appear and behave exactly as I wanted it to, at least for a while. Fuck it, why not have some fun?!
“Most of the time, yeah. I’d say like 80% of the time it’s rock hard.”
“I see,” he mused understandingly. “To what end?”
“Well… To give, and uhhh, to receive pleasure.”
“So stimulation of your organ derives pleasure?”
“Yeah, man, you’re figuring it out! Damn dude, you’re basically fully human already.”
The being grinned with my smile, apparently proud of my praise of its ability to learn so quickly. I gotta say though, seeing myself knelt down in front of me, my cock mere inches from my stupidly grinning face, appreciating my musculature from a different vantage, and watching my artificially perma-hard cock swinging between its legs… I began to get some ideas.
“You should try to suck it.”
He looked up at me again with an adorably curious face. I swallowed again and cleared my throat.
“It’s a, uhhm.. a custom meant to, aahhh… to show.. appreciation! Yeah, appreciation.”
“I must say, I am immensely appreciative of what you’ve shown me so far.”
“Nice, man. So, uhhh… Why don’t you show me, then?”
He simply nodded and leaned forward, opening his mouth wide enough to accept the tip of my cock. I felt him begin to suckle the tip like a straw, so I reached behind his head to grab a handful of my own hair on back of his head, and skull fucked my own face with slow deliberateness.
“Do it… slower… softer…” I gasped and moaned, grinding my groin into his face and feeling my cock surge and pulse in his warm gullet. “Milk my… nuts, bro…” He did as he was told as I continued pounding his throat.
I’m embarrassed to say, but after holding off on nutting for way longer than I needed to and using a clone of myself as a personal fleshlight, I kinda exploded inside of his mouth after about a minute or 2 of pumping. I continued squirting into him until it felt like my balls had been wrung dry and his mouth and throat were bloated with my jizz. I could feel my cock swimming in its warm soupiness in his mouth while he looked up at me.
“You…. have to swallow it…” I panted, dripping sweat from my forehead onto him.
He nodded and I heard loud gulping sounds and extra suction on my cock as he drained his mouth into his stomach–or whatever he had in his anatomy. I let out a final shuddering moan and pulled out of him, using his lips as a vacuum to suck my shaft clean as it slid out. I stepped away panting as he swallowed the rest of me and used a tissue to wipe off my tool.
“What was that substance you excreted?”
“Huh?” I asked panting, still spacey. I couldn’t really think of what he was saying.
“That fluid. It came out of your organ like a spout. It was warm and viscous. What was it?”
“Oh, that’s, uuhhh…” Well, shit, how do I explain to him that I just filled him with the juice that humans use to make other humans? “Uhhhhh…”
“What is its function? Does it serve a primary purpose? It seemed to come at the climax of your stimulation.”
“It’s…”
Wait. Hold on. I was talking with a species that was able to modulate anything. Whatever he heard from me, he would completely immolated it, like, to the letter. He’d believe whatever it is I told him.
Better yet, he’d make it so that whatever I told him turned out to be actual the case for his form. I could… I could say it was anything.
I could say it was for anything. I could say it could do anything.
My horny, overactive imagination took control, as it often does. Only this time, I could actually live out an impossible fantasy. Could I stop myself?
“It’s a.. solution of sorts.” I began, planning out my next words as I went. “It’s something guys use, like I said, for appreciation, but, uhhh, also for just, like, fun?”
“I see,” He mused. “Is it just for the males of your species?”
“Oh, yeah, and we all.. we all love it…” Don’t say it, don’t say it. “Which makes sense because it’s made of a pheromone that makes us want more and more. This solution, it’s infectious,” he mused, completely turned on by the idea of infectious horniness. “AND, and we can make as much as we want of it, like it never stops producing.” Fuck, I was really getting started now. “Especially me, like I can jizz and jizz and jizz all day long, I barely need any time to make more.”
I was forced to look down with a dropped jaw as I watched his balls twitch once, then again, then establish a sort of heartbeat as they swelled and squirmed in his sack, making them over productive. Oh, fuck yes.
“Understood. Is it simply ceremonial, your excretions?” He asked. “Or does it serve a functional purpose?”
‘OH SHIIIIT, don’t ask me that, bro!’ my conscience nagged in the back of my mind but I shut it up.
“Both,” I answered simply. “We love to fill each other up with it, like, love it… but it also helps us…” Don’t fucking say it! “Helps us.. like, grow?”
“Grow?” He asked for clarification.
“Yeah! Like… grow.. overall. Our bodies get bigger,” my cock twitched, “our muscles get fuckin’ huger,” my breathing quickened, “we get taller,” I took a step towards him, getting anxious to try some of this miracle concoction I was inventing on the spot, “oh, and our cocks and balls swell and get fuckin’ massive...”
“I see,” he remarked with growing fascination. “What curious anatomies you humans have!”
“Yeah, it’s …” I agreed with a mischievous chuckle. Another dawning kinky idea popped into my head, “Oh, and it’s only for the guys! It only affects the male anatomy. But if a chick tries it…” Fuck, I was really running off with this! “You can bet that it’ll turn her into a hunky, hung bro.” What kind of sex god was I making?!
“Aha… makes sense.”
“… I guess you didn’t affect you so much because you’re not really human?”
“Your assumption would be correct, there are aspects of your biology that simply do not impact me. Which is in its own ways unfortunate; it sounds like it would be a thrilling experience.” His cock still hadn’t deflated, thanks in part to my ‘80% of the time’ rule, but I’d like to think that his anatomy was responding to the excitement such an experience would lead to.
“Fuckin’ tell me about it, dude…” I sighed, taking a step towards him until our perfectly matching tips were touching. I ran my hands up his washboard abs—my washboard abs—and squeezed/cupped his pectorals and rolled his stiff nipple around with the pad of my thumb. “But I’ll tell you what,” I began to slide my hand slowly down his torso, “You’ve been such great company today, and it’s been an honor to have you use me as your model. You did a goddamn… phenomenal job at it, too,” I reached down and took his cock into my hand, it’s familiar shape and slickness sliding up and down in my palm, a bead of pre seeping out the slit in its head as I looked down at it.
It was time to test out whether my directions had been applied correctly.
“Let me show you how much I appreciate our… acquaintanceship.”
I pushed him back onto the couch behind him and sank to my knees, leaning over him to take all thick 7 inches of my own cock into my mouth and down my throat. I buried it into me to the hilt and slowly pulled back, allowing enough space for my hand to come up and wrap around the shaft. I began to take his cock into my mouth rapidly in a bobbing motion, twisting and sliding my hand up and down his shaft in front of my mouth, lubricated by my spit.
“O-OOOohhhh, ooohh myyy, mmmmpppffff,” He vocalized, experiencing an entirely new human sensation. He leaned into the sensation, thrusting his hips forward and feeling his/my body’s musculature and curvature.
I looked up at him as I expertly serviced his cock. How many guys had looked up at me from this vantage? How many late night lays have seen exactly what I was seeing, my face contorted into an ecstatic knot, my hips bucking into their face, the warm sweaty taste of my big dick in their mouth? From my vantage, his/my muscles were casting a gorgeous smattering of shadows that made my size stand out and look larger.
If all went right, they were gonna be larger. Larger than I’ve ever been or will ever be.
I continued working the shaft and used my free arm to shove my hand up under his ass, sliding my fingers between his sweaty crack and plunging my middle and ring fingers into his puckering hole.
“UUG-UUURRGGHH,” He bellowed deeply in my voice as a continued to feed my middle and ring fingers into his hole at a rapid pace. He kept groaning loudly and fervently, his body reacting to completely new and utterly incredible sensations in the only way it knew how.
“S-SSsome—Somet-things HH-HaaaAAPPENING!!” He called out to the ceiling with his head thrown back, as I felt his cock began to throb and enflame in my throat, his cock head seizing up stiffer. His thighs squeezed around my head and every muscle in his body seemed to contract as I felt the first warm squirts of his cum shoot to the back of my throat. I opened my throat for the coming onslaught.
It started as one or two small squirts and quickly crescendoed into a throbbing, spraying firehouse, firing out of his shaft and into the back of my throat, nearly choking me on several occasions. I drank and sucked and drank and sucked and drank and sucked as he continued moaning loudly and unloading into me. He began to taper off a little, but I wasn’t going to let him get off so easily. I intensified my hand’s assault on his hole, plunging a third finger, fourth finger, and finally an entire pinched fist into his widening hole. It seemed as though his hole was more pliable and springy than meets the eye; something I made a mental note of taking advantage of in the future. As I fisted his ass and sucked him down, he called out in another deafening orgasmic roar as I felt even more of his jizz fire out of his cock and into my gaping throat, eagerly swallowing every last bit I could out of him. He continued with a few more squirts, as I dislodged my hand and used it to tug and milk his testes. Finally, with a few more twitching pumps into my mouth, I began to slide his shaft out of my mouth, sucking every bit of residual juices off it until it fully exited with a wet *pop.*
As he panted and collected himself from what had to have been a cosmically significant experience for him, I looked down at his waist, on the couch, on my chest, felt my chin, felt my face, and was delighted to discover that I hadn’t wasted a single drop of his spunk! I anxiously awaited any changes to my own body, twisting and turning to see if anything was different about me, and shrugged. Can’t win them all, I guess.
Feeling my stomach begin to grumble, I reached for my phone and quickly put in a pizza delivery order. Might as well show this being the wonders of food if I’ve already shown it the wonders of lovemaking.
He continued panting but finally broke his staring eyes away from the ceiling to look at me, “… What… WAS that…?” He breathed heavily.
“That, my friend,” I started, finalizing the order and tossing my phone aside. I pulled myself up onto the couch on top of him to straddle the perfect replica of my own body, and planted a wet kiss against his/my lips. Fuck, my gut felt like it was swimming with him! “Was the human male orgasm,” I informed him with feigned grandiosity, enunciating each word. “A damn good first one for you, if I can toot my own horn for a second.” I planted another kiss against his panting mouth. As I did, a cummy air bubble traveled up my throat and I burped deeply with a chuckle.
Then my stomach began to gurgle and churn.
“You… you said.. I could do… do that… whenever I pleased??” He breathed heavily with genuine disbelief.
“Within reason,” I smiled as another unexpected, grumbling belch emanated from my throat followed by a hot gust of air from within me. I cleared my throat. “The best part is you don’t even need a partner. In a bind, you can just use your hand if you want. Still, there are some rules, but generally anything goes around your bros—..” A loud, rolling, gurgling sound boomed from my gut, it’s reverberations being felt all through my body in steady vibrations. I could feel pulsing, radiating hot patches all over my body, making my skin turn red and causing sweat to trickle down my face, arms, and body.
Something was happening.
“Ah! This must be the growth-inducing properties you mentioned kicking in,” He remarked matter-of-factly, reaching down to take his still-hard cock into his hand. “So when using your hand, you just stroke it at the same pace? Would you mind if tried myself? I think I’m ready to do it again.”
He didn’t wait for my response, he just went to work, focusing on himself, seemingly unaware or uncaring of what was going on with me. I could only take shallow breaths and heavy exhales as I felt myself getting hotter and hotter, my entire body feeling like it was cramping and sweat beginning to shower off me onto him. My cock was rigid and enflamed, painfully stiff and red as the rest of me, pointing hard down at him as he focused on his own enjoyment. It was getting hard to breathe and I could see stars in the edges of my vision. With my teeth clenched and spit flying out between them between my uneasy and forceful breaths, I braced myself to pass out…
… Which is exactly when I began to feel relief. My skin color quickly started to return to normalcy, losing its beet red appearance, and my breathing returned to normal as I took deep breaths to recover. I was still dripping sweat and was hard as a rock, but nothing near how I felt moments before.
“What in the ffff—..” I started, but was cut short as my back arched backwards and my arms extended behind me in an intense, involuntary stretch. “AaaaAAAaahhhhhhh,” I groaned, hearing dull cracks and feeling like I was being pulled like taffy. Sitting back upright, I felt as though I was somehow several inches taller. Looking down, I saw that I was several inches taller, my torso extending longer than it used to. Twisting to check it out, I also noticed that my arms had lengthened somewhat. I looked down at my clone to be sure I wasn’t the only one seeing this, but he just kept slowly stroking himself, testing out different speeds and intensities of jacking it. Suddenly, I felt my hips convulse and utter a sharp, loud crack as my thighs were forced wider while straddling my clone. Well, he was becoming less and less of a clone if things continued in the direction they were going…
“D-Do I look b-igger to you?” I asked, bringing my hands up to my neck as I felt my voice deepen and my neck change. I could feel that it was much wider than it normally is and my adam’s apple was much more pronounced.
“Yes, you do,” He answered matter-of-factly, his voice a low monotone. “Is that not the point?” He asked between strokes, adjusting his hands.
“Yeah… okay… It’s just, I w—NNNRRRGGGG!!” I hunched over gripping my gut, feeling like a boxer had just nailed me. Underneath my arms wrapped around my gut, I began to feel my abs thudding larger and larger and larger, the ab ridges and my cum gutters deepening considerably as my torso developed a hell of a muscle gut.
“O-oh my god,” I whispered, looking down at myself and seeing the blossoming body of a fitness model instead of my swimmers build. I began to grope my body more when my shoulders were yanked back, more dull cracking ensuing as my chest broadened.
“Oh fuck yeah,” I mumbled, knowing what was coming. Beads of pre dropped down from my cock onto my clone intermittently as my pecs throbbed, their giant musculature taking on tons of size. I brought my hands up to my chest to squeeze and grope them, feeling their muscles underneath contract and expand. It’s fucking unreal, feeling your own muscle tits grow to the size of serving dishes and jut out from your chest. I couldn’t resist bouncing them like mad, watching them dance was almost enough to send me over the edge. The feeling immediately, simultaneously began to surge into my shoulders, swelling my neck wider until it reached my shoulders which bursted into large round cannonballs, and into my ass, which I could feel thickening and rounding out into huge, jutting globes.
I flexed my longer arms with a groan, feeling the surge of energy continue to flow into them, while my cock began to drool pre more like a stream than like a leaking faucet onto him. “DUUUUUuuuuuudddde,” I flexed harder, watching my arms double, triple their original size, my skin tightening and muscles swelling with a noisy, fleshy stretching sound, while my lower abdomen muscles activated. I flexed my cock, making it bob higher and higher while it tightened harder than I’ve ever been and began to thicken wider. I groaned loudly, bringing my new powerful arms to my hips, wrapping both hands around my shaft, each of my hands having difficulty meeting fingers around the new thickness of my tool. Pre continued to waterfall out of me while I bucked my hips, my larger ass tightening behind me while I fucked the grip of my two hands, watching with moaning fascination as my cock snaked further and further longer with each consecutive hump. My nutsack drooped lower and swung with my movements as I felt my testes gain weight and feel like they were churning.
My thighs thickened wider and stronger, squeezing my clone’s own thighs closer together as I straddled him, and I felt my calves tighten up as they swelled to the size of a professional football player’s legs. I heard my hands and feet continue to crack as they swelled longer and larger, my fingers and toes even getting meatier as they grew to a bigger size to match my swelling body. I jerked my huge cock while bouncing my round, hard ass on my clones knees, spilling pre and sweat down his torso.
“Th-Th-This is—..” My jaw yanked wide and angled in a yawn, cracking and sharpening under my skin, while new hair sprouted across my neck, jaw, and cheeks, “F-Fu-uuucking AMAZING!” I gasped as my nose reshaped and my features grew sharper. I shook my head out, clearing the sweat from my face and taking heavy breaths. Looking to my living room mirror, I could see that my face had become a more angular, more handsome, and more fuckable version of its old self. I could’ve blown just by looking at me.
I could feel myself approaching climax so I picked up the pace, yanking on my bigger, juicy thick cock with increased speed as I leaned in closer. I made contact with the clone of myself, my groin pressing up against his mid-torso and thrusted against him. He stopped pumping his cock with curiosity and looked up at me with inquiring eyes. I slid my cock up his chest with panting breaths.
I leaned back and looked down at him, “Do this,” I panted, bringing my hands up to my new, luscious, pillowy pecs and smooshing them together, nearly driving myself over the edge with seeing how fucking huge they were now, “with your chest. Really squeeze it tight.”
He grinned up at me and obeyed, squeezing his pecs in tightly as they wrapped around my throbbing cock. I moaned loudly, feeling the warm skin of his/my pecs wrap around my slick dick and humped slowly against his chest. My pre-slick dick lathered him up quickly and I began to rock back and forth between his pecs, feeling the tip of my hog stamp against the bottom of his neck over and over. It felt like a-fucking-mazing.
“Make them bigger,” I grunted, swearing onto his body. He looked at me confused. “Your tits, bro. Make them bigger. FF-Fuck, just do it.” I panted as he grinned and looked down at himself. His pecs suddenly felt fatter on both sides of my shaft and I gasped exhilarated when I looked down to watch them swell wider, fatter, stronger, rounder. I bucked harder, “Bigger.” I groaned loudly, his pecs squeezed tighter against my cock, making my breath catch again in my throat. “BIGGER!” I yelled, feeling myself drawing painfully fucking close. I looked down and watched his pecs suddenly wrap over the top of my big dick, enveloping my shaft completely between a sweaty wall of his meaty, slick skin.
“B—!!!” My voice hitched in my throat and I felt the fam break loose, and watched thick, pulsating jets of jizz squirt out from between his pecs, painting the bottom of his neck white, spraying against the couch, drenching my crotch, and sending thick, slow streams of cream running down my clone’s mega muscle tits. “FFFFFUU—UUU—UUUUCCK!!” My deep voice trembled as I hit the 12th shot of my unloading, each ejaculation as thick and voluminous as the last, and I didn’t start teetering off until I hit my 18th. As I continued to slowly fuck his pecs slowly, draining every last drop out of me, I began to scoop fingerfuls of my spew into my mouth, savoring my new super-jock flavor. Big-assed twinks wouldn’t be able to get enough of it, of this I was sure.
After I had drained all I could, I slid out from between his pecs and looked down at him panting. He let go of his pecs and they bounced free of one another, jiggling back to firmness at a size that was easily triple what they once were. I reached down and squeezed a handful of both jizzy mounds, playfully slapping the underside of his left one loudly, “Nice rack, dude!” I chuckled lustfully.
“Why, thank you,” he answered proudly but unsurely.
“Do this,” I ordered, focusing on my chest muscles and making them dance alternatingly, my cock fattening up again feeling my new huge pecs bounce around.
He looked down with focus for a second, but then expertly made his muscle tits dance in no time, putting on such a thick and jiggly show like I’d never seen in my life. I couldn’t help but giggle.
“You’re a complete fucking treasure, man,” I grinned, stroking him on the cheek.
I stood up, feeling huge, strong, fucking powerful in my new body. I gave a full body stretch/flex and started walking back to my room. “I gotta shower,” I explained to him. “But I’m gonna show you another delightful human wonder right after.”
“Does it have something to do with that?” He asked, gesturing to my ass.
I looked back at it, laughed, “No, not that. Not now. It’s eating, bro. Eating food.” He nodded understandingly. “Though eating could have something to do with that, too. We’ll get into that later. I ordered a pizza, money’s on the counter if it gets here before I’m done, good?”
“Yes, good.” He answered monotonously, looking at the blank wall as I walked back to my room, grinning as I heard my hardwood floors creak unfamiliarly below my feet with my new weight.
———
As I showered, I couldn’t help but admire myself in the mirror, taking minutes and minutes to look at every angle of my new self, marveling at who I’d become. I looked fucking flawless, even my face had refined itself!
I ran my hands over every inch of my body, flexing and relaxing, feeling how every new curve felt in its relaxed versus its flexed state, tugging on my mammoth cock, making cute faces at myself. Getting maybe a little too into it.
I felt like I could bust another one already—my guess was that was probably thanks to the miracle potion I had conjured up and drank earlier—but I figured why waste time? My newly perfected clone I’m sure could entertain himself for a bit, I was going to spend some time milking my meat, really enjoy the hot water…
———
The creaky station wagon rolled into the driveway and it’s brakes squealed to an ear-piercing halt. Inside, James clutched the beat up piece of shit into neutral and pulled up the brake, scrolling through the last of his irresponsible browsing drive over, scrolling down pic after pic of beefy, hunky, hung men, at best barely clothed and straddling something phallic and at worst fully nude and spread open while having some orifice plugged.
He knew it was irresponsible to drive while horny-scrolling, it was just that old habits died hard. Plus, the 5’9”, 110 lbs max bean pole needed some kind of inspiration for once he finally starts bulking up. He made it through high school relatively unscathed, save for the twice monthly at least harassment from his relentless bullies, but high school was behind him and he was eager to start saving up money to go to school, hence the delivery gig.
It would just be an added benefit to go to college with a little meat on his bones in addition to a little extra dough in his pockets.
Eh, one of these days.
He opened the door and got out of the car, his shirt billowing with his movement—even the smallest of the restaurant’s uniform shirts hung off him—and pulled the two boxes for the order out of the warming bag in his back seat. He had to hold it with both hands underneath because of the size of the pies and the surprising amount of weight they had and marched to the front door of the address. He straightened himself and rang the doorbell, soon enough hearing some soft but heavy footfalls coming from behind the door. He prepared to recite his usual pleasantries, a simple good evening and repeating the price, but—
The door swung open and the delivery driver’s jaw dropped.
Standing in front of him at the entrance was a stunningly handsome man with the most impossibly huge and mouthwatering rack he’d ever seen in his life. What’s more, the guy was fucking naked! Additionally, he appeared to dripping with what could have been.. no, what had to have been…
“I assume your arrival has something to do with the piz-za?” The man asked, his voice deep and confident but his pronunciation of pizza drawn out and unnatural.
“—Y-yyyeah, it’s—.. y-you j—.. uhh, uuhhmm…?” The delivery guy fumbled through his words, not really grabbing onto anything of substance. The man raised his eyebrows, waiting for clarification.
“Pizza?” The delivery guy finally blurted out.
“Um, yes, indeed.”
“Oh! Uhh, yeah, it’s uhh… $25.95.”
“Of course. I have your money, I’ll return momentarily.” He started to turn to walk back inside.
“Hey! Uhh, why are you, like.. naked?”
“Hm? Oh, I just assumed it was the most natural. One moment,” with that, the man turned back to walk towards the kitchen at the other end of the house. The delivery driver looked with a watering mouth as he watched the man’s big, firm ass sway and bounce with each step on his way to the kitchen.
‘What the fuck??’ The driver thought with an awkward breathy chuckle, feeling himself boning up. This was the most unusual delivery he’d ever done, but it might have also been the best moment of his life!
The man returned with some folded cash, “Here you are.”
the delivery driver counted up everything: a twenty, a five, and a one. $26. The right price, but still…
“—Oh, uhh…”
The man was beginning to close the door but paused, “Pardon?”
The driver shrugged and grinned awkwardly, fanning the folded cash a little, “It’s just, it—.. like, no tip?”
“No tip?” The man asked back confused.
“Yeah, I mean, like a gratuity? Like, it’s late, your place is kinda out there, you’re uh.. like that, it’s just—..”
The man rocked back on his heels a little in sudden awareness. “OOOooohh, you mean some gesture of appreciation?”
“Well, it—yeah, like just a little more payment.”
“I see. Yes, I only learned about this concept recently, my apologies. I’d be glad to show you some additional appreciation for your labors. Would you come in? I can provide that directly.”
“Oh! Ummm, sure? I suppose I could come in while you get more money.”
The man stepped aside and welcomed the driver in, who sidestepped his way in to trying and failing to avoid bumping the muscular size of the man and inadvertently using his erect cock as a sort of turnstyle on his way in. He stepped in and looked around, hearing the man close the door behind him and walk past him towards the kitchen.
The driver stepped into the next room, clearly the living room, noticing the place seemed to reek of sweat, musk, sex. The humidity and the intensity of it all thrilled him while also making him shrink back a little. It wasn’t until he approached the loveseat that he noticed that the back of it was stained with fresh cum. Did he catch this guy at the door after a living room jack off session?! Who jacks it in the living room?
“How would you like your tip?”
The driver spun around, startled by the man from the door who must’ve moved like a cat, standing almost face to face to him.
“H-Huh?”
“Your tip. Would you like to give it or to receive it?”
“W-Well, I mean… receive it, obviously?”
“Naturally,” the man grinned, pushing the driver back by the shoulders, making him stumble back onto the couch, feeling the slimy, sticky coolness of the jizz deep through the back of his uniform shirt.
“What are y—!” The driver started but was shocked to silence as the man quickly straddled one leg on the couch and leaned in, moving his leaking cock towards the driver’s mouth. He looked up at the man who looked back down at him with a friendly grin, feeling his spongy tip and rigid shaft knock against his lips and cheek. He couldn’t admit that he didn’t want this. The night was already weird as fuck, so he could either resist it and leave or go along for the ride.
So, he went along for the ride.
The driver opened his mouth wide and led the man’s cock into his mouth with his tongue, wrapping his lips around the man’s cock and bobbing his head forward and back, feeling the length of the cock slide in and out, in and out, in and out of his mouth. The musky, sweaty taste of it was strong but not unwelcome and he could taste the flavorful pre steadily leaking from the slit. He didn’t know how long he sucked on the man’s cock, but he didn’t feel like he wanted it to end any time soon, especially considering how gentle of a lover the man was being, stroking his face and not fucking his face too forcefully.
The man lolled his head back in a groan as he could feel his balls beginning to churn out another helping of the powerful spunk he’d pumped into his host earlier and found himself getting excited at the thought of watching the same results take their effect on this delivery driver. He continued fucking the driver’s face for a while longer until he felt the buildup begin to mount.
“Here it comessss,” the man moaned as he gently held onto both sides of the driver’s face and increased his speed, feeling the driver’s hands reach back and wrap his hands around his thick thighs. The man fucked with a little more intensity and a little more speed until finally—
The driver felt hot torrents of jizz erupt from the man’s cock, hearing him moan and groan with intense, orgasmic satisfaction, feeling the man’s shaft and head swell and flare with each consecutive load. Most of it sprayed into the back of his throat and down into his gut—thanks to the length of the man being almost all the way inside him—while his mouth quickly began to fill with the hot seed. He swallowed as much and as quickly as he could, loudly gulping as the surprising quantity of jizz continued to fill him up. He only coughed a few times but didn’t dare to spill a drop. Even as the man’s spurts began to spill out slower and lighter, he continued to drink until he was completely spent. Finally, the man pulled out of his mouth, the driver sucking the excesses off his shaft cleanly as he did.
The driver took several panting breaths as the man began to gather himself, too. He felt the warmth of the spew in the center of his gut, pervading through his being like he was being covered with a heated weighted blanket. It felt comforting at first, but then the feeling began to spread and intensify.
“That was great,” the man noted, fetching a tissue from the counter to wipe off his dripping crotch, noticing but not worrying about the discomfort the driver appeared to be experiencing.
“Yeah, uhh.. Thanks. You, too,” the driver responded dryly, way more thrilled by what had transpired, but growing steadily alarmed by the warm-bordering-on-hot feeling spreading throughout his body. He could feel himself starting to sweat more as the heat built and began to feel a tense, aching feeling across his skin and within his very minuscule muscles. He noticed that his breath was beginning to tighten and quicken as he felt his hot-to-the-touch skin begin to pulse. He looked back up at the man, who was standing naked by the kitchen counter and flipping through a magazine.
“H-H-Hey, du-dude,” the driver hissed between pained and trembling breaths. The man looked up at him, “Wha—aaaat’s happening to me?”
“Only what’s customary,” the man responded in a confused tone.
“Wh—!!” The driver’s breath hitched in his throat as he felt his body jolt in a full-body pulse. Then again. Then again, each time his body jolting and reacting a little more strongly than the last. He looked up at the man again who simply threw his head back at him with a grin. With one more intense pulse, the driver felt and saw the impossible.
His physique began to pulse with him. It felt and looked like he was an inflatable, actually. With each pulse, his body began to swell larger and larger, his work uniform clinging tighter and tighter to his frame. He huffed a disbelieving laugh as he twisted his arms and felt them pulse again and again, shaping quickly into firm, dense mounds as his uniform shirt sleeves began to slide up his arm, tightening around his expanding biceps and triceps. He couldn’t help but giggle as he squeezed his chest together with his expanding arms, watching his chest swell, swell, swell with each consecutive pulse. They spread apart with his widening back and he could feel the cool house air against his midriff and ankles as he felt himself sliding taller and taller against the back of the couch. His pants, which he’d always preferred to keep tighter, stretched and tore slightly in places against the swelling of his growing thighs and calves while his ass thickened and fattened out from the shapeless, flat backside he used to have. Finally, his crotch bulged larger and larger against the tightening pants and formed a gorgeous, shapely bulge at the front of his pants, albeit wickedly tight and nearly painful. The painfulness was felt even more sharply as he gripped both sides of his legs and leaned back in a groan, his knees locking forward and his toes curling as his stiff cock swelled against its tight confines and shot heavy load after load into his pants. Much of it sprayed out of the tight confines of his old pants, soaking his front and producing such a large helping of jizz that it made it look like he’d pissed himself.
Once a fully hairless man, he began to feel the itchiness under his clothes and the scratchiness against his neck as he began to sprout some hair across his body while a five o’ clock shadow spread across his face and neck. He was beginning to look like the nice cusp between twink and twunk that he’d always found so attractive, now fully personified by himself. He’d never felt hornier or more thrilled in his life, and fucking hell did he want more.
The driver brought his arms up in a flex, looking at how much bigger they’d gotten, and felt himself fully ready to spew again. He looked at the man, standing still fully nude, leaning against the wall and watching the driver check himself out. He driver could only puff out thrilled and unbelieving chuckles as he flexed harder and harder.
“Can we do that again?”
———
I wiped myself off as the shower drained itself, soapy water turned white, milky, and soupy with my constant emissions sank lazily down the drain, coughing with its thickness occasionally. Drying myself took about as long of a process as it took to take the shower itself. I just kept noticing newer angles to myself and newer shapes to check out that I couldn’t stop twisting and flexing and posing for myself. I was a stud before, but fuck, now I was a yoked BEAST. I’m pretty sure I could best just about anyone at my gym in a contest now, it wouldn’t even be a competition.
As I continued to dry myself and admire my new muscular beauty, I heard a commotion from within the house. It founded like furniture cracking and being pushed across the floor. While I was showering, I swear I could hear something else, too. It sounded like deep, reverberating moaning, but it could have easily been the pipes groaning with the hot water. But now it sounded like it had come back, still slightly muffled but decidedly too varied in range to be pipes.
I quickly finished wiping the drops of water off my rippling bod and wrapped my towel around my waist, just barely enough length in it to tie around me. Stepping through my bathroom and bedroom, I moved into the hallway towards the living room.
Walking slowly towards the growing sounds of flesh squeaking across hardwood floors and groans, I began to notice that the air was thicker, too. It felt hot, humid, sweaty, moist, dense, the faint scent of pizza mingling with the heavy scent of sex and musk. In fact, it felt and smelt a lot like a university locker room, from my recollection. Something was off, I just had no idea what it could be.
I rounded the corner and was stunned to a halt.
My couch looked like it had been crushed in the middle, it’s wooden bottom having split and angled downwards. Sitting on top was a man—or what appeared to be a man—rising to about 6 feet in a sitting position. He had to have been 8 or 9 feet standing, at least, and his proportions were out of this world. His thighs each looked to be as thick as my entire torso, his khaki pants clung to his muscle bound trunks in shreds like vines. His ass seemed perfectly round and took up a huge space on the couch. His shirt had ridden up his torso up to his neck and shoulders, but it didn’t seem as though he could pull it down if he wanted to. His abs were thick and protruding and his pecs heaved with heavy breaths over and over again, these massive meaty pillows inflating in and out across this giant’s chest. His arms were the sizes of cannons and his neck and shoulders made him look like a bull. His cock and balls were stuffed tightly and mostly unconcealed in a dangerously tight and soggy pair of briefs, his thick, erect cock curved painfully downward with most of his shaft clearly visible through the cum-soaked briefs. Thick, white spew coated his entire crotch, most of his legs, and even most of his lower abs.
The man was covered head to toe in a thick, dark carpeting of hair that was matted slick against his musculature with dripping sweat, while he held my clone up to his face with his huge, strong hands, my writhing clone’s crotch gyrating against his face while the man appeared to gulp greedily from him.
He dropped his hands from my clone’s backside as my clone pulled out of his face, I could hear him sucking as he pulled out.
“FFUUUUUUUUCCK, you’re so good…” the giant stranger groaned between pants, swallowing more between heavy breaths, his eyes closed while apparently savoring the taste.
“I appreciate the complement, again,” my clone responded deadpan, sliding down off the man’s chest. As he did, he noticed me in the doorway. “Ah! You’ve finished, marvelous. Now, this eating you mentioned,” he began, completely nonchalantly, as if I didn’t just walk into a scene out of some kinky dreamscape.
Before I could answer, the man’s eyes slowly opened and looked at me with a drunken grin.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” he slurred loudly and deeply as he licked his lips and shifted his hips, his cock appearing to lurch much larger. I could see shimmering drops of sweat rolling down his body as he moved and I could tell the smell throughout the house was coming solely from him. “Aren’t you two just the most delicious set of twins I’ve ever seen.”
“Who are you?” I asked back, stepping around him and looking at the splintered remains of my couch while gaping at his unbelievable proportions.
“I’m just the delivery driver, man,” He responded with a grin, extending his arms back and his legs out in a stretch while I heard his stomach gurgling loudly. As he stretched, his muscle groups tensed and the couch continued to crack, splinter, and groan. When he was finished, he looked back at me with that same drunken grin. “Your bro here helped me out and gave me a fucking awesome too. Actually several.”
He winked at my clone and my clone beamed at me proudly, like a child who’d just gotten praise from a teacher. He’d made a muscle-bound giant right in the middle of my living room!! Who know how this guy looked before he arrived, but it couldn’t be anything like he currently was. How was he going to explain this?! How was this going to affect us?!
Fuck me, we needed to have a conversation about sharing.
But… a part of me understood that this was a result of my own lust and carelessness… and I couldn’t say that I didn’t like it.
“Aww ffffuuuuucckk,” the driver groaned, his head rolling back and his grin spreading wider. His stomach groaned and gurgled loudly again and it looked as though his entire body trembled with the vibrations of it. “Dude, I’m getting so fuuuucckin HUUUUUUGE,” he groaned as he tensed his chest and arms tightly in a flex. His muscles twisted and bulged outwards even larger as sweat continued to pour off him while his shirt rode even higher up, looking like the tight fabric would threaten to constrict his neck if it continued to go any higher up his chest and shoulders. As his abs pulsed and swelled, he spread his legs apart and I drooled as I watched his incredible thighs and calves thickened larger, snapping more shredded remains of his pants off him. His toes wiggled longer and larger through the already ripped soles of his shows as his nutsack swelled heavier with the increasingly tight confines of his soggy briefs. “FFF!!—UUUCCCK!” he bellowed as his stiff, curved shaft began to stretch thicker and longer as it spastically spit thick ropes of cum into his underwear, seeping through the soaked fabric and onto the floor. “U!!—UGGHH, SORRY M!!—MAN, I’M FUCKIN’ JJ!!—IZZING ALL OVER THE P!!—PLACE!” He whined orgasmically as he thrashed and humped wildly into the air, spurts and spurts of his seed spraying out from the edges of his underwear and through the fabric. I could hear slight tearing sounds with each thrust and moaned as I watched his underwear begin to give way.
They ripped wetly and loudly, tearing at the narrowest point in his taint and causing the elastic waistband to snap forwards. Combined with the force of the elastic snap and the stiff-as-a-board nature of his cock, his filthy, soggy briefs flung heavily through the air and splatted against my broad chest. I could feel the combined hot freshness of his current load and the cool stickiness of his other loads slapping against me and sending me over the edge. This guy was a fucking sex god, and I was going to treat him as such.
I rushed over while he continued vocalizing and thrusting, basically pissing jizz all over my wood floor, yanked his torn briefs off my chest, and wrapped my hands and his cummy briefs around his spurting cock, holding it against me and letting him fuck my torso, his mammoth cock extending all the way up between the ridges of my abs and in the valley between my pecs. He painted me white with his seed and I caught as much of it as I could in my mouth, savoring his flavor. His spurting began to slow and he started to catch his breaths, taking deep, grunting lungfuls of air. He looked down at me and I looked up at him, feeling his massive hands rub his spew into my muscles and watching f sweat drip down his torso.
“Aren’t you the greedy one,” he grinned down at me. I massaged his balls as the last of him seeped out of his cock.
“You have—” I started, leaning over to lick the last of his jizz from his tip and sticking my tongue into his slit, swirling it around and eliciting a deep, vibrating moan from him. “—no idea.”
I sat up on his torso and rested my round ass on his heaving, sweaty pecs. “Now it’s your turn,” I grinned down at him, aligning my cock with his mouth. He chuckled deeply and stuck out his long tongue, scooping my entire sex into his tongue and wrapping his lips around it, flexing his arms to show off for me.
I turned around and spotted my clone as I started to thrust into his scratchy face, “Hey bro,” I gestured over to him. He looked up from his dick with a questioning look. “Come over here and feed me. I wanna get real monstrously huge so I can properly fuck this guy.”
He jumped up and moved towards me with his cock leaking pre. He excitedly shoved his y to oil into my mouth and I started to suck, already feeling my shaft beginning to swell larger in the delivery man’s throat.
I love the male to male transformation/Shapeshift.
Because it is more interesting, beautiful, attractive, and also sexual because it turns from a beautiful man to another beautiful and handsome man on physical levels and with sex appeal.
"How about this one?" Finn asked as he held up a leather jacket to show to his friend Greg. "Seems a bit smaller than the others."
"Maybe, although perhaps we should try somewhere else?" Greg replied, he was getting a bit nervous now that they were actually in a store looking at jackets. A couple of nights ago they had gone to Infernos, their local club, and seen a flyer for an upcoming leather night. One thing had led to another and Greg had admitted that he had always had a bit of a thing for guys in leather. Greg had definitely not expected Finn to then suggest going to the leather night, but was excited when he did as he would never have had the courage to go on his own.
The only problem was that the flyer had said wearing something leather was mandatory, and neither of them owned anything suitable. They had joked about getting some harnesses, but had decided to play safe and go for leather jackets. Finn had already found a jacket he thought was good, but everything had been a bit too large for Greg. "Let's just try these on, and if they don't fit we'll try somewhere else."
So the friends made their way to the changing room where Finn was the first to try on his jacket. Finn was the more outgoing of the two, and had always enjoyed going out in fancy dress which was why he'd suggested attending the leather night, but even he was now worrying they might not be able to pull these costumes off. Finn had a bit of a baby face, so once he slipped his jacket on and saw himself in the mirror his first thought was that he looked like a child wearing adult clothes trying to look tough.
Finn had expected the leather to feel cool, which it was to start with, but once the jacket was on he was surprised to get a bit flushed. He was worried he might start sweating into the leather, but the warmth quickly faded away at which point he noticed just how comfortable the jacket felt.
Finn smirked a little as he looked at himself in the mirror. He straightened his back and pushed out his chest to show off his chiselled body. He started thinking of the other leather jackets he had but couldn't remember any fitting as well as this one.
"See Greg, nothing like a leather jacket to help make you look like a man. I'm glad you've finally agreed to join me at a leather night, and if you are anything like me you're going to love it." Finn said confidently as he checked himself out in the mirror.
"That's fine for you to say, you've worn stuff like this for years and have the body to suit it. I just don't think I can pull it off, especially not with something that is too large for me. I think we should go somewhere else." Greg said starting to lose whatever confidence he had.
"Well we are here now so you might as well try that jacket on. You'll at least know if you like the feel of it." Finn replied. He knew his friends at the leather night would love Greg regardless of what he looked like in the jacket.
Greg reluctantly started to put on the jacket. What he had not told Finn is that his interest in leather was not about looking cool. Instead it was about domination. He had always been small, weak and mostly submissive, but when he thought of leather he thought of heavily built intimidating men and everything he wasn't.
So Greg knew that even if the jacket had been his size it would never be right to him, something which was confirmed to him as he looked at himself in the mirror. Greg thought he looked ridiculous and knew that the idea of going to a leather night had been a huge mistake. Greg started to feel anxious as he thought about how he should never have said anything to Finn. The jacket started to feel suffocating around Greg's body, but before he could take it off he felt the ball of anxiety in his chest burst out across his whole body.
"Wow, that looks great on you Greg" Finn said as Greg admired himself in the mirror.
"What did you call me Boy?" Greg barked back whilst staying focused on the mirror.
"Sorry, I meant the jacket looks great on you Sir."
"Another slip up like that and i'll be forced to punish you." Greg firmly replied as he turned to face Finn, with both of them getting turned on by the thought of what might come later.
Beau Butler and Brogan | Raging Stallion's Overdrive
All of Us Strangers (2023) dir. Andrew Haigh
Anderson Cooper, live on CNN's New Year's Eve Countdown, was in the midst of his usual lively banter with cohost Andy Cohen. Drinks flowed freely as the excitement of the night built up, and Anderson was caught in the whirlwind of interviews and the countdown. In the midst of it all, a crew member handed him a mysterious red shot. Without thinking much, Anderson tossed it back, laughing along with Andy Cohen.
Immediately, a sharp cough interrupted his good spirits. The taste of the shot was vile—bitter, burning, and unexpectedly harsh. It left a strange aftertaste on his tongue, but Anderson was far from sober. Having already indulged in a few too many drinks, he let it slide, shrugging off the unpleasant sensation. The liquor worked its way through his system, blurring his thoughts and numbing his senses.
The countdown continued: "10...9...8..." Anderson rubbed his temples, his mind cloudy. The idea of spending another year endlessly reporting on the same political stories, particularly Trump, seemed unbearable. His body began to feel heavier, fuzzier. "7...6...5..." The world around him grew more distant, as though everything was slipping out of his grasp, until...
"3...2...1..."
Suddenly, the world shifted. Anderson blinked and found himself no longer in the CNN studio. He was among the sea of loud, rowdy New Year’s Eve partygoers in the streets of New York. The drunken crowd stumbled and shouted, a blend of joyous and confused voices. As he pushed his way through the throngs of people, someone shouted, “Watch where you’re going, big guy!”
Big guy? Anderson thought, confused. He wasn't a hulking figure—he worked out, sure, but big? He glanced down at himself, feeling a strange sensation building in his body. His stomach ached, but he attributed it to the drinks. However, the ache deepened, his muscles twitching, spasming. The change began, slow but undeniable.
Anderson felt his body shift, growing, expanding. His muscles swelled, pushing against the confines of his clothes. He looked down in astonishment as his biceps stretched, thickening, each muscle becoming a solid mass, defined and powerful. His chest expanded, a hard wall of muscle forming where there had once been a more average build. The veins popped out from his forearms, running like rivers under his skin, pulsing with every movement.
His once lean and slightly slender frame was now an enormous, muscle-bound force of nature. His body rippled with raw power, his hands, now large and calloused, could crush anything in their grip. His neck thickened, cords of muscle making it look like it was carved from stone, and his traps swelled, each muscle a solid mound. As the transformation continued, Anderson became a living testament to physical dominance—a massive man, built from pure muscle, his body like a mountain of strength.
His skin, now bronzed and rugged, reflected years of hard work and a life of physical labor—of lifting, of outdoor adventures, of pushing himself to the limit. He stood tall, towering over the crowd, the raw power in his body emanating from every move. He cracked his knuckles, his new stance one of aggression and unshakable confidence. His entire being seemed to scream "big"—not just big in size, but in strength, presence, and raw, untamed energy.
Anderson looked at his new self in awe, both surprised and strangely empowered by the transformation. He was no longer just a news anchor in a tuxedo—he was a living powerhouse. Every step he took was accompanied by the flex of muscles, the pulse of veins, and the certainty that he was now something different, something more.
Anderson stumbled toward the open bar, his new, massive body clumsy and out of place in the crowd. He leaned against the bar, struggling to adjust to the newfound weight and strength of his muscles. As he looked up, his eyes met the bartender, a handsome man with a cocky grin.
"What’ll it be, bro?" the bartender asked with a confident smile.
Anderson blinked, a moment of clarity trying to pierce through the haze of his foggy mind, but before he could answer, the bartender's expression shifted, and he sneered.
“Ugh. Quit checking me out. We don’t serve no homos here. Only good Christian conservatives," the bartender said, his words dripping with contempt.
For a brief second, Anderson felt a pang of memory—pride parades, his advocacy for equal rights, his husband, the principles he once stood for. But those thoughts quickly faded as his body seemed to pulse with the force of the transformation. His mind became slower, fuzzier, and the memories of the past seemed less important, less vivid.
Instead, the new Anderson began to emerge—a version of himself that was brash, muscular, and filled with an arrogant sense of dominance. The memories of his old life slipped away as he embraced his new persona. Anderson felt the urge to lean into this new identity, one that was provocative and unapologetic. His voice grew deep and confident as he responded, his tone filled with newfound cockiness.
“Yeah, I get it. And what’s wrong with that, huh?” Anderson replied, his grin matching the bartender's. "It’s a free world, right?" Anderson sat at the bar, his fingers wrapped tightly around the glass, the next drink slowly making its way through his system. With each sip, he felt a fire rise in his chest, a burning heat that spread through his veins, turning his blood red-hot. The noise of the city around him, the cacophony of voices screaming and yelling, grated against his senses. It was too much. These damn city folk, all of them—loud, entitled, taking up space in the bar as though they owned the place. His mind seethed with irritation, a storm brewing in his chest.
He shifted in his seat, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. His memories of newscasts and interviews with politicians, once full of politeness, professionalism, and kindness, began to fade away. They felt distant, like old shoes that no longer fit. His years of calm, measured conversations were replaced by something darker, something sharper, as if his very persona was being rewritten by the drink flowing through him. The lines of stress and wrinkles on his face, the marks of a life lived in constant scrutiny and responsibility, slowly began to wash away. He could feel his face growing harder, more defined, less empathetic, and much more youthful.
As the liquor coursed through his bloodstream, his body grew hot with rage and entitlement. He could feel the shift in his thoughts—his old self, the thoughtful journalist, disappearing as a new version of himself began to form. The memories of his compassionate interviews were replaced by new, unfamiliar ones—TikTok clips, viral moments, flexing in front of the camera. His mind flickered to the image of a man who thrived on controversy, who built his empire on shocking the world, on unapologetically flaunting his success. This was something more raw, more dangerous, a walking contradiction wrapped in muscle and bravado.
A vision of a hyper-confident, right-wing comedian started to take shape in his mind, someone brash and bold, with a sharp tongue that ripped through the fabric of the internet’s carefully curated persona. The image was clear now—this new version of himself was everything the media loathed, everything society considered "unfiltered." He saw himself as the epitome of masculinity, his body a testament to hours spent in the gym, the sculpted muscles of his chest and arms flexing with every movement. His face wore a cocky grin, a permanent smirk, like a lion looking down at sheep, unbothered by the noise around him.
The new Anderson Cooper didn't care about social justice or "cancel culture" or the so-called softness of the modern world. He mocked it. He derided it. He was untouchable. He was the one who didn’t need the system, who didn’t need the handouts. Everything he had achieved was because of his hard work, his dedication, his willpower. Anyone who couldn’t make it, well, that was their problem, right?
The anger that had once boiled inside him turned into pure, unfiltered trolling. The satire was biting, sharp as a knife. He saw himself mocking the left-wing causes with sarcastic humor, shredding the arguments that sought to change the status quo, all while flexing his financial success. His wealth, his body, his "self-made" empire were all part of his show—his brand. And he wasn’t going to apologize for any of it. He mocked the soft, mainstream conservatives, too, calling them weak and out of touch, gleefully watching as both sides recoiled from his inflammatory rhetoric.
This new Anderson thrived on controversy. He lived for the outrage, the debates, the clashing of ideologies. His TikToks, his viral videos—they were a canvas for his audacity, an ever-expanding collection of one-liners, memes, and references to pop culture that blended seamlessly with his hyper-masculine, self-promoting lifestyle. His followers ate it up—because he wasn’t just about flexing his muscles; he was flexing his right to speak, his right to dominate the conversation. He was always right. Always the loudest.
As Anderson sat at the bar sipping his whiskey, a curvy blonde slid onto the stool next to him. Her tight dress hugged her body in all the right places. She turned to him with a coy smile. "OMG, aren't you like, super famous?" she gushed, big blue eyes wide. Anderson was about to puff out his chest and brag how he was indeed but the bombshell cut him off. "You're that douchebag constantly going on about how the media is full of 'woke fags'" The blonde's words hit Anderson like a punch to the gut. Anderson's mind began to rewrite itself, delving deep into memories of his most douchey, obnoxious rants as a conservative internet celebrity. He recalled his rise to fame, lashing out at the "fucking faggot woke media" in videos that went viral among the Reddit subreddit of white nationalists, MRAs, and other bottom-feeders of humanity. With each memory, Anderson's ego grew, along with the tent rapidly forming in his slacks as he thought about the smokin' hot blonde beside him. God damn, I'm such a catch…famous AND I'm not afraid to speak my truth. The chicks love a man who isn't brainwashed by the liberal media lies, he thought proudly as he straightened his posture. Fuck, I can already picture this fox riding my dick and screaming "White power!"" "You know what would be SO hot right now?" asked Anderson, with a coy smile. "Bitch, I can do whatever I want! In fact…"He roughly grabbed her ass, squeezing her firm cheeks through her dress. Fuck, what did she say her name was? My brain is like, totally fried right now… Focus, dude! Suddenly, a glimmer of light shone behind his glazed eyes and a voice emerged from within his thick skull, "It's Cassie. You're Jaydien…Jaydien DIESEL!"Jaydien grinned and threw his hand up in the"okay"sign."JAYDIEN DIESEL, motherfucker! Host of 'It's OK to Be White' on Gab. Now back the fuck up, ho!"Jaydien smirked, eyes glazed over as he slurred out drunken rants about the decay of American values and how only "family men like him" can fix it. He rambled on and on about his unwavering faith in Jesus Christ as he groped at Cassie's tits and ass shamelessly.
"You see, Cassie…these liberal scumbags and their rainbow bullshit are destroying the very foundations of our nation!"Jaydien yelled, practically drooling on her cleavage. "But God put ME on this Earth to save America from the homo agenda and their pussy propaganda. Men are SUPPOSED to grab pussy, am I right?!"
Cassie giggled, too tipsy and perhaps too slutty to stop this uncouth cretin from feeling her up in the middle of the crowded bar. Jaydien took her silence as a sign to keep going with his Christian crusade.
Jaydien's hand was all over Cassie's body as he ranted about Jesus, guns, and grab-pussy politics, barely able to get his words out through his drunken stupor. The bartender eyed them warily but was too lazy to intervene. This seemed to encourage Jaydien's lewd behavior. "Goddamn it's hot in here… Let's take this somewhere more private!" Jaydien slurred loudly enough for the whole bar to hear. He yanked Cassie off the bar stool, making her stumble in her heels. The blonde barely had a chance to react before Jaydien was dragging her across the floor toward the restrooms."C'mon, time for you to make America great again on your knees, slut!" A few patrons booed disapprovingly but Jaydien just flipped them off. "Eat a dick, libtards! And suck on the RedWaveRapture"
Dirk Jager & Dean Flynn Command Post, 2007 - Titan Men, dir. Brian Mills
"Oh, come on, you can't be serious."
Lance groaned and looked at Lisa, the bride's maid, who in turn didn't appear all that amused either, although for different reasons. She smiled a sweet and poisonous smile as she answered.
"Yes, I am, Lance. Dead serious. Apparently, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a hotel with enough free rooms on a Caribbean island in the middle of spring break."
Before Lance could answer anything, she continued with a sharp voice.
"Or how expensive. So, yes, I'm afraid you have to share your suite with one of the other singles for the duration of your all-inclusive stay. Deal with it."
Lance took a deep breath and fought down the urge to say something very inappropriate. Lisa was probably right, and he wouldn't die from having to share a room with one of the other guests for a few days. He would only go there to sleep, anyway.
"Ok, ok. No need to explode like that. So, who will be my... roommate?"
In an instant, Lisa had a list in her hand and looked at it until she found the name.
"Let's see... that would be Jamal, who also didn't arrive with a date. I trust the two of you know each other?"
"Jamal? Oh god, no! Why do I have to room with the n... with him? Isn't there any other option?"
Lance couldn't believe it. Jamal, really? Of all the guest, he had to endure Jamal?
"No." Lisa said firmly. "And now, if you excuse me, there are a thousand other places I need to be right now. Have fun and try to get along with your roommate, ok? I'm not gonna make any changes."
With a flip of her hair, she walked away.
Lance was fuming as he fingered the keycard to his room. This had to be a bad joke. Jamal and him... Let's say they never got along really well. And ‘never’ was quite a long time for them, actually. They've known each other since kindergarten and didn't get along very well even then, although they had arguably be friends back then. But ever since, their relationship became worse.
It wasn't Lance's fault, of course. That much was certain, he decided, as he drew the card through the door sensor. Jamal was just so...
The door opened and revealed the object of his disdain.
Black.
There was hardly any way to phrase it differently, Jamal had the unmistakable dark skin color of a dirty ... Black man. Lance didn't consider himself a racist, but the fact was that people who weren't white were less civilized, that was just the way it was.
"Lance."
Jamal's voice was just as dark as his skin as he glared at Lance. Unlike Lance, Jamal most definitely was racist. He was proud of his heritage and thought very lowly of Lance, no doubt because of his skin color. If things were allowed to continue like that, people like Lance would surely become even more oppressed by people like Jamal. He closed the door behind him.
"Yes, that's me. Do you have a problem with that?"
He approached the other man like a predator until he stood right in front of him. They were about the same size, and Lance could see the dark wide nostrils of the other guy flare.
"Yes."
Jamal spat the word.
"I do. What are you doing here, you white piece of trash?"
Lance gritted his teeth.
"What are you doing here, you filthy ni-"
Jamal's fist flew before Lance could finish the word and it was only due to the fact that Lance expected the hit that he could dodge and thus avoid having his teeth bashed in. He answered with a quick kick to the balls, and the two men began their brawl.
The fight was short and intense, but neither of them managed to seriously hurt their opponent. At the end, they sat at different sides of the large double bed, breathing heavily.
"Fuck."
Lance spit out a blood drop. Jamal had a surprisingly hard punch.
"Yeah, that about sums it up."
Jamal was massaging his wrist, and Lance guessed that his jaw would bruise pretty badly. He was more than surprised, however, when Jamal offered him his hand to help him up.
"It's no use, Lance. It looks like we're stuck together for the next few days, and I've got better things to do than beat your racist ass every time I go to my room. Truce?"
Lance considered the proposition for a few moments, before he nodded and grabbed the dark hand.
"Truce. At least as long as we're stuck in this room with each other, you fucking monkey."
A moment of silence followed before Jamal got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. From inside, he mocked Lance again.
"You know, Lance, you really need to learn how to control your racism. I bet the only reason why you're so angry about me is the fact that I have a big dick."
"Oh, shut the fuck up, asshole."
These were going to be a few long days. The wedding wouldn't be for another two days to give everyone time to enjoy themselves a bit. Originally, Lance had looked forward to this opportunity, but now it seemed like these days were going to be more of an ordeal than anything else.
Of course, there was no way he was going to sleep in the same bed as Jamal, and, luckily, Jamal agreed on that without argument and moved his stuff to the couch. They didn't speak a single word to each other this evening, and Jamal left the hotel room shortly after, allowing Lance some time alone. He was still bruised up and dirty from the short fight and took the opportunity to take a shower himself.
The water was somewhat soothing, and slowly, Lance regained his composure. He certainly wouldn't let someone like him spoil his vacation, and perhaps Jamal was right, and it was a good idea to just ignore each other as much as possible. He could live with that.
When he was sufficiently clean and calm, he left the shower and reached for a fresh towel, only to see a small article of clothing fall from the rack.
With some disgust, Lance noticed what it was: A piece of underwear, a pair of boxer briefs to be exact. It was previously worn, and Lance had no doubts who the owner was. Jamal must have forgotten it when he took a shower earlier.
Lance tried to ignore the unwanted textile as much as he could, but his eyes kept returning to it. Truth be told, it wasn't all that small. In fact, especially the pouch area was rather large, and the fabric looked like it had been stretched somewhat. Without really wanting to, Lance had picked up the piece of underwear and inspected it from all sides now. Frustratingly enough, what Jamal had said earlier appeared to be true. If this piece of underwear was any indicator, then Jamal's dick had to be fairly huge.
That only angered Lance further. Who did Jamal think he was, with his stupid large penis, mocking him? Did Jamal think he could impress him with that?
The piece of clothing had a slightly damp feeling to it. Most probably it was because of the steam from two showers, but was that really all? His body acted on autopilot when he brought the foreign item of clothing closer and sniffed. It was a bit musky, that was for sure, but he wasn't quite sure yet. He buried his nose in the front part of the pouch, right where the dick had been before and took another deep breath.
Oh, there it was. Definitely, Jamal's scent was embedded in the fabric, and the smell was stronger now. Lance felt a rush of shame and anger. Did he really smell the underwear of his black temporary roommate? That was disgusting. He was just about to drop the garment, when he noticed something else. His own -rather small- dick stood proudly at attention.
"What?" Lance said out loud? He was hard because of a man’s underwear? No, not just any man’s. Jamal's, his arch enemies if he had any.
No, this had to stop. With a quick motion, Lance pulled the underwear over his legs and left the bathroom.
Only when he pulled on his pants over the baggy and mostly empty cloth that concealed his erection, he took note of what he had done. Why had he put on the thing?! Well, now it was too much of a hassle to change that, he decided and closed his pants, pressing the damp sweaty fabric against his groin.
Luckily, Jamal didn't come back until late in the night, when Lance was already asleep. He half noticed the other man getting settled on the couch, but he was too tired to care.
When Lance woke up the next morning, he was covered in sweat and his boxers were uncomfortably tight. He groaned as the memories of the day before came back. A quick glance confirmed: Yep, the black man was still there, on the couch, and still asleep, as it seemed.
With a throb, his cock demanded attention under the sheets. It had been quite a while since he had woken up with such a severe case of morning wood, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He wasn't alone, after all. He couldn't resist, however, to reach down under his sheets to readjust himself.
Only when he felt the unfamiliar fabric, again somewhat wet, by his own sweat and precum did he fully remember. Right, for some reason, he had put on Jamal's underwear after the shower. And later, when he went to bed, he hadn't fixed his mistake. There was something else, though.
Lance carefully felt the outline of his cock. This wasn't right. The stolen underwear pouch was filled to the brim with a throbbing organ entirely unfamiliar to him. This wasn't his cock! It was much, much too large!
However, every touch on the large piece of flesh felt good, and he couldn't resist stroking the length stealthily, if only a few times. Why did this feel so good? Lance failed to fully suppress a moan, and saw Jamal stir in his sleep. He really had to stop this. Only perhaps one or more stroke.
Were before, when rubbing one off, he often resorted to only using three fingers to stimulate his length due to his tools size. Now, however, he found that his whole hand was unable to fully close around the shaft, and there was a lot of space for his hand to move up and down, too.
He threw Jamal another glance, but the unwanted roommate still seemed to be asleep. Perhaps he could continue just a bit longer, and perhaps pick up some speed...
This time, too, he failed to muffle his moan completely.
"Ahh, fuck, yes..."
He breathed as he pumped the thick organ faster and faster, using his other hand to caress his balls through the underwear, which felt unusually large as well. Not being able to keep it down any longer, he pumped faster and faster, through Jamal's underwear, until, with a loud groan, he shot a generous load into the fabric.
Lance saw stars for a moment, but the noise had apparently been enough to wake up Jamal, and he turned around on the couch and remarked with a sleepy voice filled with annoyance.
"Dude, what the fuck? Did you just jerk off?"
"Uhh, no. I was... not."
"Yeah, right. And I'm the president. What the fuck, dude? Couldn't you wait until I was gone or something?"
Jamal groaned and got up to go to the bathroom. As he was walking, Lance got a short glimpse at the other man’s groin for the first time. If one thing was for certain, his dick wasn't as large as Lance had suspected. Most of the front of Jamal's boxer briefs was obviously empty.
Jamal spent a surprisingly large amount of time in the bathroom, and when he emerged again, he was - as far as Lance could tell - pale as if he had seen a ghost. He didn't speak a word as he quickly got dressed and basically fled the room, leaving a puzzled Lance behind. What had gotten into that guy again? He shook his head and, finally, removed the sheets and pulled down his borrowed boxer briefs.
And then, he looked at his crotch dumbfounded. He had been right. It wasn't his dick, even though it was flaccid again now, it was much too large. However, that wasn't the biggest problem. Despite being too big, it was decidedly... Black.
And it wasn't just his shaft that was suddenly dark skinned. His balls, too, and the rest of his groin as well. When he turned in front of the mirror, he realized that even his ass-cheeks were a rich dark brown color now, and his pubes dark and wiry.
Lance's head was swimming. What in the world was going on? Was it an infection?
No, even a guy as biased as Lance knew that dark skin was not a disease you got infected with. He simply had no explanation for what he was seeing. Luckily, only his groin was affected. Both his legs and his torso were still as white as they were supposed to be. And his face was fine, too.
Lance shook his head. He'd have to get to the bottom of it, but that had time until later. Today, he wanted to enjoy the beach a bit. However, as he tried to put on his swimming trunks he noticed a problem with his new anatomy. Neither his swimwear nor his pants would fit without being extraordinarily uncomfortable. Not wanting to cut off the circulation to his now much larger tool, he glanced over to Jamal's suitcase. Judging by the pair of boxer briefs, Jamal's stuff should be about the same size, even though Lance didn't really understand why the other man brought clothes this big.
After rummaging through Jamal's belongings for a bit, Lance found what he was looking for. A pair of swimming trunks and a pair of pants that fit comfortably as he put them on without a second thought. He briefly considered fully dressing from the other man’s trunk, but decided against it and took socks, shirt and sunglasses from his own stash.
Finally, fully equipped, he went to the beach.
Given the time of the year, it was rather full, just as he had expected it to be. Nevertheless, he found a spot to lay down a bit and sunbathe, and soon, the warm rays had him relaxed.
For a while, nothing happened. Lance felt at peace, and his thoughts returned to the morning events. He was no stranger to masturbating, but it was the first time that he had felt the urge to do so while in the same room as another guy. Even stranger though, he didn't feel particularly ashamed about it anymore. So, what if Jamal had seen him? He certainly jerked off, too. Put aside all the obvious things that separated them, that was one thing they had in common. They were both men, and men had certain needs. Nothing wrong with indulging in them, right?
In fact, in the morning sun, his thoughts about Jamal were less hostile than usual. It was really hard to be angry all the time when relaxing in the warm seaside sand.
A few hours later, Lance decided to take a swim. However, as he wiggled out of his borrowed pants, he was confronted with yet another surprise.
Apparently, the dark skin had spread. Now, the whole length of his legs was decidedly dark-skinned. Lance shook his head as if he would be able to revert the skin color of his legs like that. But it was no use: The pigment was there to stay. This couldn't possibly be natural, or even healthy! He needed to see a doctor, right now!
Half-panicking, he checked his upper body but was relieved to see that there, his skin was just as milky white as it was supposed to be, as were his feet.
Against all logic, his panic subsided. Sure, he looked ridiculous like that, but it wasn't that bad. In fact, once he managed to look past the weird color of his skin, he found his legs somewhat better looking even, packed with lean muscles. It wasn't bodybuilder level, but a whole new level of power that he never had before.
Originally, he wanted to run, search for a doctor as quickly as he could, but now, he reconsidered. He might as well go through with his plan and swim a bit in the inviting ocean. He could look for a doctor afterwards.
The water was wonderful, and the feeling of his legs powerfully propelling him through the waves was intoxicating. Lance lost track of time, and it was only when his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day that he turned back, all thoughts of a doctor forgotten.
He grabbed his stuff and went back to his hotel room to change, but was surprised to meet Jamal in there, when he unlocked the door.
The other man was sitting on the bed with his pants at his ankles and was furiously beating his meat. When the door opened, he quickly covered his groin with a pillow, but there were two things Lance had noticed: First, Jamal's dick was really small! And, secondly, from the waist down, Jamal's skin was colored a bright tone of pink, a stark contrast to his dark torso. There was an obvious connection waiting to be found, something really profoundly easy, but it escaped Lance persistently.
Instead, for the first time in God knew how long, Lance smiled at Jamal briefly.
"Don't mind me, just carry on. I'll just get changed really quickly."
"O...okay." Jamal replied, obviously confused about more than Lance's statement. Hesitatingly, he removed the pillow and continued his work, his eyes glued at the other man.
Since Jamal was occupying the bed at the moment, and Lance didn't want to disturb him by accessing his own suitcase, without thinking too much about it, he grabbed a new set of clothes from Jamal's: A pair of socks, pants, fresh underwear, a shirt and a baseball cap. He got dressed and nodded at the furiously masturbating Jamal again as he left the room just as Jamal came.
Dinner was somewhat strange for Lance. His upper body, arms and feet felt all strange and tingly, and below the borrowed cap, his hair felt like it was shifting and changing. He was really hungry today and was glad about the all you can eat buffet.
However, the more he ate, the more the strange feeling took hold of his head and face as well, and with it, another urge awakened. Lance's thoughts consistently went back to the picture of Jamal masturbating on their bed. Say what you want, but that white boy really had a cute body. That was something Lance had always liked about Jamal James.
Lance Lamar felt his groin get tight again. It was difficult enough to find underwear for his large black python, but when he got aroused, there was hardly anything able to contain the beast of burden.
Finally, he stood up in all of his black glory and went to the elevator. Time to see if James was still around and was up for a length of his loving boyfriends large dick up his cute tight ass.
He was.
As he left the dining hall, Lisa smiled a thin smile and changed an entry in her list. Two less troublemakers and one more happy couple for the wedding.
What a great couple, in the end! After all, racism never pays.
If you like to read about another great couple, in a magical story, perhaps check out this novel!