Hunter: P.D.A. (musc)
by Aardvark
A little Halloween party fun for all of you - I have a couple more chapters that will be posted in the days to come. For now, have a very Hunter Halloween.
As always, comments are not only welcomed, but requested.
Katie squealed at the sight of Lachlan at her door. “Hunter! Baby, come look at Lachlan!”
Hunter, wearing only tight jeans after a shower, smiled at Neil, Mel and their son in the doorway. “Hey guys! Heyyy, buddy. You look killer with that shield.”
“What do you say, sweetie?” Mel lightly touched the back of her son’s head as he stood next to her. “Uncle Hunter just said something nice about you, what do you say?”
Though his head was tilted down, Lachlan looked up with his large eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’ve very welcome.” Hunter looked at Neil and Mel, clad in street clothes. “Are you guys dressing up? You’re still going to the party with us, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. We’re taking Lachlan trick-or-treating first before we go. It’s his first time!”, Neil said, wrapping one arm around Mel’s waist. “I’m actually a gladiator too. Lachlan saw my costume and he-”
“-wanted to be just like Daddy,” Mel grinned. “It was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. I made Neil get dressed beforehand so we could get a picture of them together.”
“My outfit shows, uh, a little more skin than Lachlan’s does,” Neil said, smiling back. “But not as much as yours, honey.” He kissed Mel’s cheek and she giggled.
“Uh-oh, Mrs. Blue,” Katie said as she returned with candy for Lachlan. “What are you dressing up as, you bad girl?”
“It’s a secret. You’ll see, but I figured this was one of the last times I could really vamp it up, since Lachlan’s getting bigger and we’re probably…” She trailed off, and looked into Neil’s blue eyes. He nodded back, and she continued. “We want to have another. So I may be expecting by this time next year, if it all goes according to plan.”
Katie smiled. “I thought that may be happening again soon. It’d certainly be great for Lachlan.”
“That’s what we’re thinking. And we both just love him so much, we want more. It’s addicting.”
Lachlan pulled on Neil’s pant leg and turned his large eyes upward. “Daaaaaaaad. Daddddyyyy.”
“Well, there’s a signal.” Neil smiled. “We’ll be back in a little while, guys, we’ll let you know so we can leave together.”
As the door shut, Katie moaned. “God, every time I see them with Lachlan, it fucking makes my WOMB ache.”
“Just a little while longer,” Hunter smiled as he backed Katie into the kitchen counter. “We’ll have one soon.” He wrapped his large hands around each of her hips and kissed her neck. “Let me fuck you.”
“Now? We need to-”
“I want to fuck you.” His voice got deeper, gravelly and seductive. “You’re so beautiful. Please let me…I want to be inside of you.”
She felt her back press against the countertop as he lay her down. “We’ve never done it in here before…”
He was already slipping her out of her clothes, his voice dropping lower, his muscles pumping up. “Kate…Katie…” She felt his warm breath on her chest as he kissed her, the light touch of his still-wet hair. When she looked down, she saw the mass of his back, every muscle bulging from his workout earlier in the day.
She loved the way his tongue felt on her skin, the way his chest rubbed against her. “Ohhh, Hunter, fuck me. Now.”
------
“Mirela Blue! Are you…a grown-up Pebbles Flintstone? Who just discovered her childhood outfit and put it back on?”
Mel adjusted her boobs inside her leather bikini. “Noooooo, I’m Raquel Welch in 1,000,000 Years BC. But I know who you are.”
Katie’s skin-tight, flesh-colored body suit had hundreds of white crystals, of varying size, glued all over it. It showed off every curve of her flawless, bikini-model body. “Britney in her Toxic video. I surprised Hunter with it last night.”
“Ooooh, I’ll bet he liked that. My hair good?”
Katie walked over and tousled Mel’s hair a little bit, making slight corrections to the blown-out ‘do. “You could say he liked it. We already know how Neil feels about your little ensemble, don’t we?”
“Yesssss, we do,” a deep voice said from across the room. Neil’s outfit was, in truth, as similar to Mel’s as Lachlan’s. His flawless torso was bare and greased-up with oil, to resemble sweat. Mel had gelled his thick blonde hair down into a Caesar cut, and he wore a leather skirt with a big shield and sword strapped to it. Two leather sandals, strapped knee high, completed the look.
“You’re skankier than the girls, dude,” Hunter muttered as he shut the bedroom door where he had been changing. “And I should know, because I am you.”
Hunter was dressed up as Neil, his sinewed tree-trunk legs poured into, but bulging out of, lycra swimming jammers – “there was no way I was wearing the briefs” – and the rest of his magnificently huge body bare. His chest was freshly waxed, and he had shaved his arms, but not the legs. The crowing achievement was the two cans of washable blond hair dye sprayed into his black locks. Although it was more of a yellow than a blond, it got the point across.
They all laughed. “It’s perfect!” Mel clapped her hands together and laughed. “Ohhhh, that’s hilarious.”
“So that’s why you got so pumped at the gym today,” Katie smiled. “You look great. I just want to jump you right here. Look at that body. Like He-Man.”
“Now, now,” Hunter clicked his tongue at his fiancée as the quartet walked out the door and into the elevator. “Behave yourself, Ms. Snow.”
“I think the four of us are wearing enough clothing to fully cover, maybe, one person.”
They all laughed. “Thank God it’s warm out. Relatively.”
------
They had been looking forward to the Halloween party for months. Thrown by one of Katie’s model friends, it was legendary for its decadence, with one of New York’s hottest clubs transformed into a Halloween mecca. There were hundreds of people crawling the place, dressed as everything imaginable, most of it slutty. Ten minutes in, Katie had already threatened a girl for hitting on Hunter. Five minutes after that, Hunter returned the favor.
Neil sidled up to his best friend, drink in hand. “I know what you’re going to do here.”
“WHAT?” The bass in the music thudded through the club and numbed all other noise.
“I SAID, I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO DO HERE.”
“Yeah!” Hunter laughed heartily. “It’s the moooost wonderful tiiiiime of the yeeeeeeear! I’m already scoping the place.”
“I like that waiter over there. I think he’s supposed to be Conan the Barbarian.”
Hunter smirked and took a shot. “Good eye. I’ll be right back.”
-----
Hunter sized the guy up. Skinny, real skinny, probably 19 or so. Some kid who had an internship with a party planner and got stuck being a shot guy at one of the clubs. He wore the classic Conan outfit, and it sort of hung off of him, the leather-and-fur skirt wrapped around thin legs and going down to his knobby knees. He had on a pooka-shell necklace and some weird pleather headband around his crewcut. And Ugg boots. It was not a good costume. Not even close. Neil pulled off the gladiator look magnificently, but this guy – yeesh.
Hunter walked up confidently. “Excuse me?”
The waiter turned and looked up. “Drink, Mr. Hardy?”
“No, no, I’m good, thanks. Don’t want to get completely loaded, uh…” He looked at the name tag. “…Arnie. That really your name?”
“Yes, Mr. Hardy. That was the idea behind the costume.”
“Ahhhh. You a Schwarzenegger fan?”
“Yeah. I was actually named after him. My parents were both pretty little, so they wanted to give me a name that invoked strength.” He shrugged. “Obviously, it didn’t really work. But, excuse me sir, I have to take-”
“Arnie, you remember that scene in Conan the Barbarian, where he’s a little kid and he pushes that huge wheel for years and you see him grow up in cutaway shots? And he gets really big and strong,” Hunter puffed out his massive chest and flexed his biceps, looking every inch the muscled athlete he was, “and at the end he’s CONAN? Arnold fuckin’ Schwarzenegger?”
Arnie, taken away by memory for a second, responded vacantly. “Yeah, great scene.”
“How would you like to live that?”
“Well, that’d be pretty cool, who would say no to that?”
“A lot of people would say no to pushing around a huge wheel for their entire adolescence. But YOU immediately thought of the payoff, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah. I guess. I don’t quite understand what you-”
Hunter took the drink tray and set it down on a small table nearby. “Does your head itch, Arnie?”
“Uhhhh…” Arnie couldn’t see the long, thick tendrils of dark brown hair snaking out of his head and down around his shoulders. He scratched his scalp. “Come to think of it, yeah I kind of – hey, what the…” He grabbed a handful of beautiful, silky hair and tugged. “OW! My hair…hey, what’s going on?”
The hair reached down slightly past his shoulders, thick and shiny and wavy. The club lights shimmered off of its well-maintained beauty. It was parted perfectly down the middle, as the headband got thicker and wider. Arnie pulled on it and felt brass knobs on the hard leather. It felt like a vice around his head, and the front part had a metal square that partly obscured his vision. He pushed it up to be able to see, but it fell back down. He pushed it back up again, and then it stayed, because unbeknownst to him his skull had suddenly thickened, stretching his face across a flatter, larger expanse.
“Mr. Hardy, I’m confused…”
Hunter furrowed his brow. “That voice just won’t do. What’s your name, dude?”
“Ah-nuld. AHHHH-nuld. AH-NULD!” Arnie’s eyes widened at the rumbling, accented voice roaring out of him. “AH-NULD! Ahhh-nie…whuuut thah hehhll…”
Hunter looked down and saw cum running down Arnie’s leg. “Creaming yourself in public? Sick.”
Arnie clamped his eyes shut and stumbled backward, yelling loudly, wondering why nobody was paying any attention to what was happening to him. He felt warmth all over his body, and then a stretch of bone and growth of tissue, and suddenly he was six-foot-one and trying desperately to keep his clothes on. His eyes were as big as saucers, staring right at Hunter. “Auuggghhh! Haaaalp! Sahmthing is naht right!”
Hunter was in a hurry, and everything was changing at once. Arnie’s body was a raging inferno, heat tearing through ligaments and tendons and muscle tissue as his body re-formed into sheer power. Arnie awkwardly tried to adjust his shrinking leather skirt as it tightened into leather bikini bottoms around his thickening waist. Tufts of fur shot out from behind the heavy leather as gold clasps formed around the revealing bottom, a heavily decorated, braid-accented leather bikini. “Dis looks expensive.” He shook his wrists as big metal clasps snapped around them, and dropped to his knees from the sudden added weight of two massive swords on each of his hips. “Wh-whuuut…”
He quivered and shook as his upper body blew out in all directions. The pooka-shell necklace became a genuine costume article, the golden sun-dial in the center falling in between two bloating pectorals. “Stahhhhp!”
The thing that scared him was that he didn’t want it to “stahp.” At all.
He watched as his arms flared out to the side, as triceps and biceps pushed away from each other and turned into swollen, buffed muscle. He watched as thick, rope-like veins shot down his arms and seemingly transformed his hands into calloused baseball mitt-sized ones. He watched as his abs, the one muscle he had naturally as a skinny man, bulged out into a huge eight-pack. He watched as his pecs doubled in size. He watched, in increasing adoration, as his shoulders rounded into perfection, as his neck thickened, as his back swept out into huge flaring lats and a chiseled lower backside, down into a planet-shaped ass. “Oh, faaahhhhck me.”
The heat began to disperse as he felt warmth on his weak face. “Change it!” Thin, quivering lips gave way to plump, sexy ones over a slightly gap-toothed white smile. Bone thickened on his jaw, changing him into a grizzled maw of masculinity. Eyes pushed farther apart and darkened to hazel, eyebrows pushed lower and the cheekbones swept out straight to the side. Finally, his nose flattened and the tip drooped lower.
“You can breathe now, Arnie.”
“Uuuuungh. Ah cahn’t belief eht…” Arnie held his huge hands up to his handsome face, turning them back to front, and staring at his pumped-up built body.
“Before you ask, no, you aren’t Arnold Schwarzenegger, you just look a whole lot like him. You’ll be able to see slight differences. But the body, well, the body is pretty much a clone. I think he was six-two, 235 pounds in his prime, if I remembered right. This party hired you as a look-alike waiter.”
“Accent?”
“Oh, it’s a fake. You CAN talk normally, you know. You just went all psychological on me, since I said I was changing your voice, you assumed you were becoming Austrian. But you can speak with an American accent, too. Try it.”
“Arnold. Arrrrrnold. What the fuck, why couldn’t I do that a second ago?”
He shook his head for a second and looked down, remembering the change vividly. He only forgot that it was Hunter who had done it. When he looked back up, he reached for the drink tray. He’d figure out what had happened to him later, but he had to serve Hunter Hardy. It was really hard to balance the tray because he almost couldn’t make his forearm level, due to the sheer bowling-ball mass of his pumped, veiny bicep.
“Duh-rink, Mistah Hahhhdy?” The Austrian accent was a put-on that the guests loved.
Hunter looked over his hunky handiwork and smiled. “No, no, I’m good, thanks.”
-----
“Well, look at that. A Terminator impersonator. Dude looks good, but you’re absolutely ridiculous, Hunter.” Neil set down an empty glass. “And I’m getting buzzed. Time to cut myself off before Lachlan’s Daddy is all over the papers being analyzed as a drunken father.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to dance with Mel. Where’s Katie?”
“With Mel in the booth. Let’s go get them before they castrate us for leaving them alone for too long.”
The four danced for an hour, until they were drenched in sweat. Hunter’s mostly-bare skin had red scratches on it from Katie’s diamond-encrusted body grinding against it.
“You want a drink, honey?” He half-shouted it into her ear. She nodded and whipped her hair in his face, then licked it. “Grey Goose!”
“I know!”
Hunter forced his way through the mass of bodies – it was easier for him, since he was so damn big – and meandered over to the bar.
The bartender – or at least one of them - was a slightly overweight man who appeared to be pushing 40. He was obviously very experienced, moving around with complete ease and mixing each drink expertly.
And Hunter couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw that the man was wearing a t-shirt emblazoned, collar to hem, with a man’s muscled torso, like those shirts that make it look like the wearer has a woman’s sexy bikini bod. But this one made the bartender seem, at first glance, like he was a fitness model.
“Sometimes, it’s too easy,” Hunter muttered. He stepped up to the bar and set down a $50. “Two Grey Goose martinis, one of them dirty.”
“Yessirrrr, Mr. Hardy,” the bartender said as he grabbed the bill, and immediately went to work mixing.
“You work out, brother?”, Hunter asked, motioning to the torso tee.
“No, sir. We can’t all look like you do,” the bartender laughed as he motioned back to Hunter’s impossibly perfect body. “I did when I was a kid, but you start bartendin, start sampling the wares…” They both laughed. “Couldn’t take the calories, but I have to fit in with the rest of the beautiful people!” He laughed again as he set the two martinis on the bar. “Can’t work out all day, much as I would like to. So, I threw on this little shirt.”
“What shirt?” Hunter grabbed the dirty martini and took a short sip, as he cocked one eyebrow.
“What do you mean, what…” The bartender reached down and pulled his shirt, but felt a bizarre combination of skin and fabric. The pinch of his fingernails made him wince. “Wh-wh-huh?” As he looked down, he saw his skin melding with the t-shirt, the white portions disappearing and the muscular picture appearing on the outlines of his fat-laden torso. His small belly appeared to recede as the cartoonish depiction of abdominals became real, lines illuminating across his stomach until it was flat and hard, then rippling with eight neatly-packed abs. The bearish coating of hair was gone, replaced with glistening, tan, smooth skin.
“A-a-are you seeing this, Mr. Hardy?!”
Hunter calmly stirred his drink. “Seeing what, dude? Mmmm, this drink is delicious. To who can I attribute the taste?”
“Name’s…name’s…Mitch.” He grimaced and felt his pecs grow outward, overhanging his rippling abs. The nipples moved to point slightly sideways, then the pecs swelled more, becoming two largely developed, athletic muscles. “At least, I think I’m still Mitch…” He turned slightly and looked over his shoulder as he felt an ass rise higher and tighter, as he felt his lats swoop out and push out his arms, as he felt his traps reshape and pull his neck straight and tall.
“You work out, Mitch?”
“No…but God, it sure as hell looks like it.” With a slight flex of his arms, they both got thicker and stronger, swooping muscles shaping themselves from fat. Shoulders swelled, broadening – at 36 inches, his waist was not unusually small, but the strong width of his powerfully cut shoulders made it look tinier by comparison. His hands got larger and he struggled with the size of his new digits as he poured more drinks.
And he got taller, just a couple of inches to put him right over six-feet, distributing the 215 pounds of fat on a five-ten body into 215 pounds of cut muscle on a six-one body.
The hunk was emerging, fast. “I, I think-rrrrgh.” His speech became garbled as his jaw moved forward, cheeks and jaw and brows all making themselves known at once, a sharply hunked face behind designer stubble. With every breath, the muscles became tighter and bigger, from large feet to thick, muscled thighs to a carved waist to broad shoulders and veiny, thick arms. His balding head was suddenly filled with thick, silky brown hair, sexily messed.
“Hey, Mitch, can I get another dirty martini here? I knocked this one back while you were distracted.” Mitch shook his head, the sexy 25-year-old bartender looking thoroughly confused and very close to naked.
“Sorry, Mr. Hardy,” a deeper, sexier voice said from within Mitch. “I’ll work on that right away.” He whipped up another as Hunter peered over the bar before asking, “Mitch, what are you supposed to be?”
“I’m Marky Mark in his Calvin Klein ads,” Mitch said, stepping back to show his beautifully Grecian body clad in the smallest of CK briefs. “Or Michael Bergin, or Antonio Sabato, or, y’know, any of ‘em.”
“Have you tried out for Calvin Klein?”
“No,” Mitch said as he handed the drink to Hunter. “I think I should, though. Took me a long time to build a body like this.” He showed a slightly cocky smirk and Hunter started laughing.
Yeah, sure. “I’ll bet you did, Mitch. Thanks for the drinks.” Hunter gave the man $500 for his trouble. “Aspiring underwear models need all the help they can get, I bet. Tell Calvin hi for me.”
The sexy lips parted to show perfect white teeth. “Thanks, Mr. Hardy.”
-----
“Here’s your drink, sweetie.” Hunter sat down on one of the swanky couches next to Katie and handed her her glass. They clinked them together and downed the martinis. “God, babe, you look so good.”
“And you look edible,” she purred, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down on top of her. “God, I want to tear those fucking jammers off of you and show everyone what I man I have. I want to do it right here. I want everybody to see how good we fuck.”
Neil looked over from his dance with Mel to see Hunter and Katie practically devouring each other with passion, on the couch. He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Looks like you and I are left to our own devices, Mel.”
“I’m fine with that,” she smirked back, dipping down and rubbing her face into his muscled stomach, smelling his sweat. He reached down and pulled her up into his arms, his large hands cupping her firm ass as they made out on the dance floor.
Nearby, Mitch had noticed a particularly sexy young Schwarzenegger lookalike. Boy, why hadn’t he seen him before? Did he work here?
“Hey, Arnold!”
To his surprise, the Conan-dressed waiter looked up, smiled and headed over. “Hey, stud, I need more drinks on this tray.”
“You work here?”
“Yeah, for a while. You new?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
“We must have just never…worked…” Mitch was getting really hard at the sight of this hot guy, and he saw that Conan was noticing his horny dick in the CK briefs.
“Like my body?” Arnie swaggered behind the bar and put his hands on Mitch’s ass. “You lahk mah boday, gurrrlie mahn?”
Mitch got chills. This sexy motherfucker looked a lot like Arnold, and could even do the accent. And man, could he kiss. As their tongues interlocked, they could smell the sweat and masculinity wafting into the air from their ripped bodies.
They decided to take their breaks together, and headed to the bathroom stalls.