Wolfstx777 - Men 2 Men

Oh come on that’s too easy! 😂 Ripping for sure.

Clothes ripping is an essential part of the TF! That’s like keeping an action figure in its box.

Plus the whole purpose of getting out of the clothes is to enjoy what’s underneath! I’m getting out of them by any means possible, and yes that includes ripping!

Plus I love a lot of sensory description in my writing—especially sounds. Clothes ripping is a super hot, super necessary part of the sensory experience of tf imo!

Some may have different opinions, but if it’s me? The clothes are ripping.

Pecs. I love them.

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.

Friday Friendship

Hey there! This one is kind of a spiritual successor to Calling the Plumber - and as such, it is one of the rare gay to straight stories of mine. While I do try to keep it friendly and without any homophobia or hate, feel free not read the story if you don't like g2s!

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Calling the plumber

One bad thing about Scott's and Cody’s relationship was that they both were almost stereotypically gay in a lot of senses. Both were thin an

It was hard to overlook Montgomery and Archibald. Of course, that was always the case. But here, on the dirty construction site of their new home, the expensive silk suits of the couple stood out even more than elsewhere. Yes, the two of them were together - and they made sure everybody knew it. Not only were the two gentlemen standing in a tight hug whenever possible, but their flamboyant and colorful clothing left little doubt about their sexuality.

They were those kind of gays that conservatives were afraid of. Both were old enough to have been alive during the stonewall riots, although only Montgomery was actually there as a teenager. Still, the aged couple embodied everything the gay community prided itself on having achieved during the last decades.

Their house, too, would be a statement. The mansion was the largest construction in the area, and the most expensive one. It was going to be built on a large hill, overlooking the town, and its style was... extravagant. The house was to be built in a modern architectural style, but the two men had insisted that the walls would be entirely covered in rainbow colors, although that was still in the future by now. Surrounding the mansion would be a magnificent garden, a park even.

"My dear, are you satisfied with the construction?" Archibald asked his husband in his lime green suit. Montgomery had dyed his hair in an orange-pink tone today and wore a purple tie to his green suit. It was hardly the first building site he visited, since he had made a fortune in real estate.

Archibald, on the other hand, was a bit more conservatively dressed. His suit was a more subdued shade of beige, although his tie was of a bright sky blue color. He usually didn't dye his hair, and today was no exception: He wore the gray with pride, although he spent a fortune on hair and skin care products. He, too, had a respectable job as a top manager in a logistics company.

"Well, darling, I'm not sure yet." Montgomery replied. "I want it to look great, and the work has been good so far. But frankly, it feels that the workers motivation is somewhat underwhelming."

"I think I know what you mean, my dear." Archibald commented as they walked through the empty shell. "It is barely three in the afternoon on a Friday, and there isn't anyone around anymore. The workers must be out partying already. I can't fault them for that, but it is rather annoying, isn't it?"

"Indeed. It would have been nice if they were a little less lazy, though. The garden is behind schedule, and I believe the electrics are going to be delayed by another month."

"That is quite unfortunate."

Montgomery nodded and they walked a bit in silence. It was true. There was still a lot to do, and it looked like the workers left early for the weekend.

Finally, Archibald sighed.

"I guess I could take a look at the progress the electricians are making. I do know a bit or two about this. Maybe then we can talk to the foreman about their work. It's a pity that we cannot supervise every little thing here, but our jobs demand a lot of our time. If only we had a bit more hands-on control."

"My, what a fabulous idea! I will take a stroll through the garden then, to get a better picture there."

The husbands kissed each other on the lips as they split up and Archibald opened the fuse box. He had indeed done a bit of electrical maintenance in his prime, so he knew that what he saw in the box was nothing less than a mess. He sighed and was about to close the box again, but hesitated. No, he couldn't leave the mess like that. He would just tidy things up a bit, to show those inexperienced workers how it was done.

Carefully, he began to work on the wires, but before long, he felt uncomfortable. The fuse box was located in the bright afternoon sun, and it was just positively hot here. Still, not wanting to leave his work, he slipped out of his jacket and hung it over a nearby wall. He didn't notice that the piece of clothing disappeared once he turned away, nor did he notice that his hands became nimbler as he rearranged the wires.

Montgomery on the other hand found the garden construction even less advanced than he had hoped. Even worse, someone had left a few plants out in the heat. They would surely be dead by the time the construction continued on Monday. Montgomery couldn't let that happen. This garden would be beautiful, and no plant would die under his watch.

He carefully carried the plants to the place they were supposed to be. Of course, he knew - he had planned the park all by himself, so he knew where everything was supposed to go. As he arrived at the shady place, he understood why the plants hadn't been placed yet. The ground was wet and muddy, and there weren't any holes yet. He would need to talk to the foreman about that, but the man was surely already in the weekend as well. There was, however, a shovel nearby. Now, aside from ceremonial groundbreaking, Montgomery had never held a shovel. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept, but he was just not the type for physical labor.

Well. He looked over his shoulder to his husband, who was apparently still busy looking at the fuse box. It seems like he had some time on his hands, so he might as well. Grimacing, he grabbed the shovel and carefully stepped on the soil, trying not to ruin his expensive shoes or pants. That worked well, for about two steps. But as soon as he tried to break the ground with the shovel, a big clump of wet soil splattered on his lime green silk pants.

Montgomery frowned. Well, that suit was ruined anyway. No reason to stop there. Determined, he pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened his vest. He wasn't going to ruin his custom tailored suit for no reason.

Meanwhile, Archie was getting into his work even more. From time to time, he had to wipe his brow, though, as he was sweating like an animal. His dress shirt was stained with multiple sweat stains already and didn't really *look* like a dress shirt anymore, but more casual. The same could be said for the rest of Archie as well. A certain youth had returned to his face, as he was concentrated on his work. This way, he didn't notice when his hairstyle dissolved into an unkempt mess or when a bit of stubble grew in on his chin. His shirt clung to his body now, drenched in sweat. It had long ceased to be a dress shirt though but had become a plain - although rather filthy - beige t-shirt. His tie was nowhere to be seen.

Due to the wetness, the shirt didn't leave much to imagination regarding his body. Not just his face had rejuvenated, no, his entire body had. He was leaner and his muscles firmer now. Out of the V-neck of his sweaty shirt poked a few golden hairs, and before long, his main hair had turned into a Nordic blonde, as well.

Meanwhile, Monty was digging like crazy. He had to get those plants in the ground, or the foreman would... Wait, what was he thinking?

He stopped for a moment, to scratch his head. Thinking was not his strong point, and Monty knew that. But he had other qualities, that made up for that. When he grabbed the shovel again, to keep digging, he heard a ripping sound that made him stop again. The shoulder of his shirt had ripped. His boss was going to kill him! Although, it appeared somewhat strange to him that he was wearing such a colorful and impractical shirt. Perhaps there weren't any other shirts left?

He looked around and saw only one of the electricians still on the site. He knew the guy, he was friendly enough. He surely wouldn't mind if Monty went shirtless for a bit. With an effort not to damage the clothing even more, he peeled out of the garment. He was only half successful with that, and a few more rips sounded before he had finished taking it off.

Monty looked down at his muscular and hairy torso. The cold air was good, and he wasn't afraid to get dirty.

With every movement of the shovel, his arm muscles tightened, and his frame filled out more. A short beard sprouted on his chin, and his now full earthy brown hair shortened to a more practical cut. It wasn't like he had money for an expensive hairdresser, after all.

Finally, he had the holes ready and wiped his hands on his sturdy pair of work pants. Now, he only had to put the plants in. Despite his impressive physique, Manny was always very careful with the flowers, and he made sure that none of the roots got damaged or that he didn't break the stem.

He looked at his work. Good, that would look great, once the plants grew. Someday, he would have a garden of his own, and a house like that. And a beautiful wife and two, no, three children. But that was still a long way to go, with his poor pay.

Someone behind him cursed and Manny looked back to the electrician.

Chad was still sweating like crazy as he worked the wires. His mates had all gone to the clubs by now and he was stuck here and had to fix the mess he had created. That was only fair, but he wished the foreman wouldn't have noticed until Monday. He had to hurry up, though. He didn't want to spend his Friday night on the site, after all. Perhaps he would even get lucky and find a guy... No, what was he thinking? Working on these fruits' house had made him all confused. No, perhaps he would find a busty bombshell to take home tonight. Chad felt his cock growing hard at the thought, creating an obvious bulge in his work pants. Great, more distraction.

Chad tried to readjust himself, just in time as he sensed the big burly gardener approach. He knew the guy loosely but had forgotten his name already - if he even had known it at all.

"Hey, everything alright with them wires?" the low voice of the brute asked in a friendly tone.

"Yeah, I just need to finish up here... Should be done aaaaany minute now..."

Manny watched Chad connect the last wires. Poor guy. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was really hot and stressed out.

"Cool. It's no fun working late, and on a Friday. Hey, do you want to hit a bar after that? I could go for a cold one."

Chad looked over his shoulder at the bear of a man. Was that guy hitting on him? Na, his face only showed dumb innocence.

He shrugged. "Sure, why not, eh..."

"Name's Manny." Manny said.

"Great. Manny." Chad said and closed the now somewhat better looking fuse box before wiping away his sweat once more.

"I'm Chad."

Manny and Chad left the building site together this Friday afternoon. Neither of them knew that they were going to become best friends over this and many more beers. Manny turned out to be a great wingman for Chad, and Chad even ended up as Manny's best man during his wedding and godfather for his first child. Sometimes the closest friendships are forged in the Friday afternoon sun of a construction site.

Number!

22

It’s cliche but I would say I would want mental changes to match physical changes!

I actually had a story idea to match with this one once! Something about a stringy nerdy guy who’d figured out how to basically turn the dial on his smarts at will with a device he’d invented. His smarts would drain while his muscles and himbroness (? is that a word? let’s make it a word) would grow in proportion.

I’d always been into that idea—swelling slowly but massively while simultaneously feeling your senses drain, gradually getting away in all of it until you’re just a bulging drooling sweaty sex addict…

Countdown to a New You

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"

Fun With The Mimic

“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.

Another best transformation of male to male.

The Woolly Socks: Part 2 - Dan

As Dan crept out of the bedroom he wondered if moving in with Chris had been a mistake. For the third night in a row he had woken up cold in the middle of the night with the covers pushed off the bed. He knew Chris didn't do it deliberately and it was just his boyfriend instinctively trying to keep his furry muscular body cool, but it had happened enough times now that it was no longer amusing to Dan whose slim toned physique struggled to stay warm. Dan had tried going back to sleep but wasn't able to get comfortable so decided to do some reading in the living room. Chris would be getting up soon for his gym session so he would try and get a bit more sleep after Chris had gone.

The couple's differing routines were another issue with the relationship. Chris had a group of gym buddies that would work out in the early in the morning, whereas Dan never went to the gym as he instead did training with his running club after work. Before moving in together they had often gone out of their way to spend time with each other, but now they seemed to have got into a domestic rut where they actually spent less time together.

As Dan moved into the living room he shivered a bit and couldn't help thinking about how their different preferences for the heating in the apartment was another issue. Even in the middle of winter Chris would often walk around with barely anything on, whereas Dan would always be wearing at least one thick jumper. Dan didn't mind getting to see so much of his boyfriend, and he liked having easy access to rub his hands through the hair on Chris's chest, but he had started to worry about how different their lives seemed to be. Dan worried that they just didn't have enough in common and moving in together had made that painfully clear.

Dan had picked up some clothes from the bedroom before leaving, but in the dark he hadn't been able to find his socks. As he walked barefoot on the cold floor he wondered if he could cope without socks, but he quickly decided that he'd have to go back for them, which was when he noticed the white socks on the floor by the laundry. Chris had mentioned the previous night that he had bought a pair of socks but had found them too hot. As Dan walked over to them they did seem a bit thicker than the thin socks that Chris normally bought. Dan wasn't complaining though as they seemed like they would be perfect for keeping his feet warm until Chris got up.

After putting the socks on Dan was surprised by how warm they were. He felt a warmth creeping up from his feet but was unaware that warmth was due to thick hairs growing in all over his legs. Dan also didn't notice as his legs, that had been toned from countless miles of running, started getting more defined as they thickened up with muscle. Instead Dan started to think about the effort he had been putting into leg day at the gym, in particular growing his calf muscles despite all his buddies saying that muscle was mostly defined by genetics.

The warmth Dan was feeling quickly travelled up into his chest. He didn't notice as hairs burst out all over his stomach and then across his chest, he also didn't notice as his flat chest quickly swelled up with muscle whilst his shoulders widened out and his arms expanded to match. Instead the burning he had felt in those areas made sense to Dan as he was in the middle of his winter bulk, and was really pushing himself each session. Chris had recently made some gains in the gym, but Dan had always had the slightly bigger body and he wanted to keep it that way.

Finally the warmth reached his face and caused his beard to grow out, but for Dan that made sense as he had been growing it out during his bulk. He had intended to trim it back down in the spring, but he had decided he liked the look and was considering keeping it. Dan had also noticed Chris had been rubbing his cheeks more than normal too so he didn't think Chris would have a problem if the beard stayed all year round.

Dan looked at the jumper that he was about to put on and then wondered why he had taken it from the bedroom. He had woken up due to the bedroom being too hot and had come out to the living room to cool down, so a jumper was the last thing he wanted to put on. Dan decided that even the socks he'd put on were too much, so he quickly slipped them off.

Instead Dan walked across to the fridge and enjoyed the cool breeze on his chest that came after he opened it. He decided to start getting breakfast ready as Chris would be getting up soon and they didn't want to be late for their buddies at the gym. It was chest day today which they both enjoyed, although Dan's favorite part of the day actually came in the evening when they would spend time massaging each others sore furry pecs and then snuggling up together on the couch.

Dan couldn't believe how lucky he had been when he met Chris. It seemed like he had met his soul mate and now they had moved in together everything was perfect.

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