Transform: Muscle City 12
by AKA
nly a week had passed since Terrance and Malcolm had joined Jason in his particular problem of being too big, too powerful, too sexy and too distracting in a small town populated by an already wary group of parents and teachers - and now these three very young, very hung, very horny men were each much larger and much more distracting by far than any of the young men who had only recently vacated.
If that swollen group of musclebound teens had the frames and muscular development of hard-trained bodybuilders, along with the faces of supermodels and the prodigious and constantly erect cocks of very experienced porn stars, the three members of New Muscle Club would be cause for even greater concern.
They could still control their bodies, of course, but the sheer size and power that they found themselves in ownership of meant that even at their disguised heights and dimensions, they were still nearly seven feet tall and wider than most doorways.
They were now so much larger - and so much stronger - than they had been, than almost any man ever was, that there was a period of adjustment for the three. Things were constantly being broken, door frames smashed, doorknobs crushed into wrinkled metal balls, and their constant need for sex meant that the smallest things set them off.
Consequently, each of them had become quite accomplished at many sexual acts, practicing on each other with increasing confidence and a loss of embarrassment until it took relatively little to find them engaged with each other in loud, athletic, very enthusiastic sex.
Finding any clothing to fit their new, much larger bodies proven to be a challenge, but luckily school had ended and the Summer heat and months of school vacation meant that there was little need to dress in much anyway.
So it was that they found themselves mostly trying to cram their lengths of swollen meat inside square-cut bathing trunks or, when their legs grew too large, stretchy Speedos, though the latter were often sagging forward under the weight of so much cock and balls.
It was rough going at first. As expected, Malcolm’s mother did freak out, though his father saw a potential benefit as he now had a son that - as Jason had pointed out - would be the star of any football team he was placed on, even considering that he was only fifteen years old. The dude was a massive mountain of rock-hard brawn that would swell even larger with only the slightest provocation. No one was going to be able to get by this wall of solid muscle.
Terrance’s mother was less enthused about her child’s sudden and rapid “growth spurt,” though she admitted that she knew about Jason’s near-constant visits and suspected that Terrance wouldn’t stay her sweet little boy for long. Still, he was now a young man of monstrous proportions, even if his appetite for food seemed curiously to diminish rather than grow. How was he feeding himself? And was it true, as her eyes seemed to tell her, that he was continuing to grow?
He, like Malcolm and Jason, was being fed the pure masculine essence that only his new friends provided, and provided in abundance. When they were inconveniently unavailable, he would retire to his own room or to a bathroom, pull out one of his two monstrous pricks, allow himself to extend and swell to his normal dimensions, and plunge the bulbous head inside his own mouth to gulp down the sweet, warm, sticky cream his balls seemed capable of producing without apparent limit.
Jason was finally introduced to Terrance’s mother as “my boyfriend,” and she did her best - looking up into his inhumanly (or superhumanly) beautiful face - to simply smile and nod and welcome him to her home. He promised her he would treat her son with respect, and love him unconditionally. That made Terrance’s head spin to hear Jason say those words so easily and so openly.
When the three met and they allowed themselves the freedom to be the new men they truly were, they surpassed nine feet in height and took on the appearance of super heavyweight bodybuilders pumped up on steroids and HGH, with thick mounds of super-powered muscle springing up beneath their flawless skin in awesome and mind-bending proportions.
Though they did sometimes wonder how or why they were suddenly so much larger even than the old Muscle Club members, they did not let that fact bother them because there was nothing they could do about that, anyway - and they rather enjoyed being this size and having so much power.
It was evident to each, also, that they were still growing, because the clothing they did manage to find to wrap around their massive frames grew tighter and tighter with every passing day.
Not to mention their near-constant need for sex and affection, and the fact that - like Terrance - they seemed now to be able to produce a limitless supply of hot, sticky, delicious cream from their over-productive balls with the ease of turning on a tap.
Though they had planned on inviting others into their new club, which they called NMC for New Muscle Club, they had yet to manage the time to figure out who and how to do that until Terrance pointed out the most obvious method of membership growth.
“You did it to me,” he told Jason. “All you had to do was hang out in the same spot for a while, and there I was to see you. I couldn’t help myself.”
“So we just...draw them in like flies to shit?”
“You realize in that metaphor that you’re the shit, right Malcolm?”
The dark-skinned giant playfully punched Jason on his arm (with enough force to likely punch a hole through a brick wall). “You know what I mean, smart ass.”
“Let’s say, ‘bees to honey,’” Terrance suggested.
“No doubt,” Malcolm agreed, glancing down at Terrance’s thick and drooling prick, “since you’re producing enough honey to draw in a whole fucking hive.”
Terrance smiled and ran his hand up the prodigious length of his monster. “Can I help it if the present company gets me turned on?”
“Fuck T,” Malcolm said, using his nickname for Terrance, “you get turned on watching paint dry.”
He shrugged, reaching forward to grasp one of Malcolm’s twin monsters in his hand and rubbed his thumb across its honey-soaked lips adding, “Look who’s talking.”
“You keep that up and I’ll start going off like a fucking fountain any second.” Terrance opened his mouth wide and winked at him.
“Okay, there’s time enough for fun after we come up with a plan.”
“What, J, you don’t think T’s little scheme is worthwhile?”
He was considering what came before, how the ranks had swelled so quickly and so ominously that the entire town was up in arms about it. “I just think...I think we want to be a bit more...judicious about whom we invite.”
“Whom?” Malcolm repeated, wrinkling his handsome brow.
“Yes, whom. Did you pay attention at all in English class?”
“I paid attention to Mr. Grimaldi’s fine ass, if that’s what you mean.”
“Mr. Grimaldi’s ass?” Terrance asked.
Malcolm’s eyes lit up. “Fuckin’ A, Mr. Grimaldi’s ass! Am I right or am I right, J?”
“I have to admit that the guy has something going on - for an old man.”
“How old?” Terrance asked.
“Like...forty.”
“At least,” Malcolm agreed.
“Wow,” Terrance said, “that’s old! And you were looking at his ass?”
“The man works out, believe me. And he might be an old guy but something about the way those jeans fit his posterior says to me that he’s got more than a little gas left in his engine.”
“Maybe….”
They both looked at Terrance and said at the same time, “Maybe what?”
“Maybe we should start with Mr. Grimaldi.”
“What, like Mr. Titus?”
He looked at Jason. “You said he helped you guys out. And you said he set up the whole thing for when you guys could, like, have sex in class and stuff.”
“You’re so cute,” Jason remarked, kissing his boyfriend.
“What’d I say?”
“‘Have sex in class.’ What we did was fuck each other.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Malcolm shook his head vigorously. “What you see in movies? Where the dude is all slow and the girl is all lazy and shit? That’s ‘having sex.’” Then he stood up, took Terrance’s shoulders in his hands, pushed the other man to the ground, lifted his legs into the air and pushed a long, fat, hard erection deep inside his ass and began to thrust himself in and out with authority and expertise. “This is fucking.”
“Awwww, shit,” Terrance moaned, as he started instantly fountaining long ropes of cum that splattered all over his monstrous, muscular frame. As Malcolm fucked him deep and hard, Jason leaned in to offer wet, passionate kisses that drove Terrance farther over the edge until his cocks were practically exploding with cream.
It was this easy to get them going. Their bodies were in a constant state of arousal, and ready to fuck and be fucked without a moment’s notice or hesitation. Malcolm’s cock could plug into Terrance’s ass like a plug to a socket, and both men would be experiencing intense orgasmic bliss of a magnitude and scope that would be hard for any normal man to comprehend, let alone survive.
And Jason knew that when these two were done, there would be ample energy, appetite and lust for either of them to take on an army of men. He would not be left wanting this - or any - afternoon.
Terrance reached down and stroked Jason’s cock and felt the hot splash of his cream as it splattered against Terrance's warm skin. Then his body did the most amazing thing and started to drink in the super-powered cum directly, and his entire being lit up from inside with potency and strength.
Jason’s mouth was on his cock to drink down the flood he was pumping as Malcolm continued to seriously fuck his ass, pushing his mammoth cock deep inside where it seemed to touch some magical button that made Terrance’s libido go apeshit with perfect orgasmic bliss.
They pleasured each other for nearly an hour, lost in passion, switching places to fill each other up, feeling the sensation of pure masculine energy and limitless sexual pleasure before falling apart and lying on their broad, muscled backs in the sun, breathing hard. “Fuck,” Jason sighed. “That was good.”
“Fuck yeah,” Malcolm agreed, moving his hand along the rippled contour of Jason’s eight-pack abs. “Fucking sweet, bros.” Jason laughed and pumped a fat rope of cream from his cock, splattering Malcolm’s hand.
“Amazing,” Terrance said. “It just keeps getting better and better!” He sat up and bent his arm to watch his muscle swell and throb. “I think I gained another inch that time.”
Jason glanced over. “It doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Not until we get a new member.”
He looked down at his boyfriend, “Then maybe it’s time to go see Mr. Grimaldi?”
Jason smiled back. “Maybe.”
Jefferson Grimaldi was known as Mr. Grimaldi at school, and Jeff to his friends - but he had few of those. It was important to keep a bit of a low profile in a small town when you’re trying to be a teacher of young students and hiding your sexuality at the same time.
He was somewhat certain he was doing a good job of it, though it was a very lonely pursuit. The economy being what it was, there were precious little jobs for teachers and he had to apply for and accept the position as English teacher at the high school here rather than keep looking for a biology or natural sciences set-up which was his true calling. But a teacher teaches, and though he didn’t absolutely love teaching English to his classes, he did absolutely love teaching.
Of course, it isn’t every man who suddenly finds himself living amongst a student body whose student bodies are all swelling with muscle, either. When it started, he was like everyone else in the community, concerned about what was happening to the young men at school, equal parts scared and aroused by the sudden explosion and hyper-accelerated sexual maturation and muscular development that was spreading like a virus and turning teenaged boys into fully grown and very active men practically overnight.
His own libido kicked into overdrive as well, though it seemed to calm itself back to normal levels once the majority of the Muscle Clubbers, as they called themselves, moved away. Perhaps it was their very presence that had caused his sex drive to push into the red with alarming frequency. The trained biologist in him was anxious to discover more about what was going on, but the closeted gay man knew better than to start inviting young men to his house to question what was happening, and how it was happening to them.
Luckily, fate sometimes plays you a hand you’re not expecting.
Jeff didn’t have the money to spend on vacations, so he was spending time in his own little house and in his own little yard, watering the lawn and garden he tended with the energy he might have spent on other physical pursuits. So it wasn’t unusual to find Mr. Grimaldi in his back yard, shirtless on a hot summer’s day, with a garden hose in one hand and a cold beer in the other.
What was unusual was the handsome, shaggy head that poked over his fence and the insanely muscled arms that lay along the wood as Jason, smiling, watched Jeff Grimaldi’s legendary derriere for some minutes in quiet contemplation of what was, indeed, a very fine butt.
Jason eventually cleared his throat, more to save himself the trouble of spending the afternoon jerking off as he thought about Mr. Grimaldi’s ass than anything else. The teacher turned at the sound, slightly startled - and then very startled at the sight of a nearly seven-foot tall, evidently extremely well-built and almost inhumanly beautiful man watching him over his fence. “Hi,” Jason said, abruptly.
“Hello,” Jeff answered. “You’re...Jason?”
The blonde, blue-eyed giant smiled broadly. “I’m flattered,” he said.
“You’re kind of hard to ignore.” Jeff narrowed his gaze curiously. “You’re...bigger?”
Jason nodded and raised his right arm, flexing the muscles there to bulging glory. “A bit,” he admitted.
“Yes,” Jeff observed. “Just a bit.” He was, in fact, monstrously huge. The amount of meat that the young man so cavalierly inflated to glory along his arm was head-spinning. He had to own 24-inch upper arms, at least. The fact that these young men could continue swelling with brawn was incredible.
Jason scrubbed his hand through his hair and Jeff caught a strong, unsubtle whiff of the unmistakable smell of a man in heat. “Hot today,” Jason observed.
“It is,” Jeff agreed.
Jason glanced at the beer in Jeff’s hand. “Got another one?”
“I don’t think I would keep my job very long if I started giving alcohol to minors.” He drank his beer. “Nice try, though.”
Jason grinned. “Do I look like a minor, Mr. Grimaldi?”
Indeed, he did not. The boy that Jeff knew to be perhaps 17 years of age looked more like a man in his early or mid twenties. Jason’s broad, strong chin was dark with a shadow of whiskers, and no teenager could ever possibly have a build like that - one that would take anyone else years of constant toil at a variety of very strenuous tasks to create. “No, but you are one nonetheless, Jason,” Jeff replied. “Would you settle for some iced tea?”
The insanely muscular shoulders shrugged. “I wouldn’t say no,” he answered.
Jeff dropped the hose to let the water soak into his lawn. “I’ll meet you at the front door,” he said.
“Excellent,” Jason said, smiling broadly.
Jeff went inside his house and walked to the kitchen. He heard his front door open and a very deep, very powerful, very masculine voice call his name. “In the kitchen, Jason,” he answered, plunking ice cubes in a glass and pouring tea over them.
He could literally feel the young high schooler approaching. How much did he weigh? And how did it feel to carry all that around with you all the time?
Then his mouth dropped open as Jason walked into his small kitchen with him.
Jason, all six-feet, eleven inches tall of him. All four feet wide shoulders of him. And every thick inch of his very long and impossibly ample cock straining at the pouch of a very small bathing suit that was so overburdened by its load that the thing was barely hanging onto the boy’s slim hips.
He moved sideways - sideways! - through the kitchen’s doorway to fit himself through it. As it was, his mammoth chest brushed the door frame on one side and his proud, high, jutting buttocks did so from the other end. He seemed to take the awkwardness in stride and moved with an uncanny grace that belied his enormity.
His huge frame was coated in a shining slick of sweat that made his tanned skin glow. His chest was too large to be believed, and each swollen mass of muscle was capped with a fat, silver-dollar nipple that looked like a small dick attached to his pecs. A dusting of curls swam across the expanse and darkened the inches-deep crevasse between each mountain. “Jesus,” Jeff whispered before he could stop himself.
“Thanks,” Jason answered, reaching forward for the glass of tea. His arm was a collection of cables and wedges and balls of tightly coiled brawn, and that same masculine tang assailed Jeff’s nostrils as the other man’s dark, dank, sweaty pit was opened up.
“You boys just don’t stop growing, do you?”
“It appears not,” Jason agreed, after gulping down half the glass. Then his hand wandered south and he was cupping his massive shank of sex meat. “Bigger and bigger,” he said, watching Jeff’s face with interest.
“Just how big are you going to get?”
Jason shrugged again. “Not really in charge of those details anymore, Mr. Grimaldi. All’s I know is every night I go to bed feeling horny as hell, and every morning when I wakeup I’m bigger than before.”
“Horny as hell?”
He grinned. “I’m always horny as hell.” He finished the tea and handed the glass back, adding, “Probably hornier than hell and heaven combined.”
Jeff glanced at Jason’s ample equipment. “Is that...challenging?”
“Which part?” he asked, amused. “Putting it in or getting it off?”
“No, I meant….”
“Getting off is easy. I practically explode with the slightest attention. Maybe that’s why I’m always so horny. My balls are like cum factories that never shut down. I’m straining to hold back right now just looking at you, Mr. Grimaldi.”
“I’d forgotten how...forward you boys can be.”
Jason’s grin increased in wattage. “We know what we want, if that’s what you mean.”
“I mean that you just propositioned me without the slightest hint of subtlety.”
“Did I?” Jason laughed slightly. “Can’t blame a dude for trying.”
Jeff took the glass from Jason’s outstretched hand. Their fingers touched for only a moment, but Jeff registered a sudden, strong shock of warm, tingling sex in the slight, momentary contact and he sucked in a breath and rose onto his toes. The two men locked eyes in the small kitchen and then the sensation was gone. “Did you...do...something?”
“Maybe,” Jason admitted.
“What...was that?”
“Just something we can do. We call it tugging, because we tug on you. We, kind of, send you a little bit of fun so you get into the mood, so to speak.”
“How does it work?”
Jason leaned his tall, muscular farm back against a counter and crossed his incredibly powerful legs at the ankles. Then he folded his muscular arms across his bulging chest, making his pecs press against each other for room and bulge forward as if they were being inflated with power. “Not exactly sure. How do you move your fingers?’
“What, like this?” Jeff wiggled his digits. “I just...do it.”
Jason shrugged. “Same thing. I just do it.”
“But you have to make it happen.”
“Meaning?”
“I mean that you’re not sending out that...the tugging...all the time. It’s not like breathing.”
“I can turn it on or off. I can leave it on all the time if I want to. Like breathing. But that tends to make things...complicated.”
“How so?” Jeff was intently interested. These biological anomalies were part of why he got into the field in the first place. How did organisms evolve and why? How did new abilities manifest? Becoming a teacher of English was a necessity, but biology and animal sciences were his true loves. He couldn’t help himself if he was suddenly viewing Jason as a kind of lab rat.
“Well, so, like, maybe I walk into a room and I’ve got my engines revving and…”
“You mean you’re actively ‘tugging’?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You know, just because.”
“Because you can.”
A smile and nod. “Because I can. And I like to. It’s fun. So, I walk into a room, I’m tugging, and all the guys start getting hot and bothered, they’e springing boners, they start sweating, their bodies are heating up and suddenly all they can think about is sex.”
“That would seem right up your alley, if you’re always in heat yourself.”
Jason scrunched up his face at the term. “I’m horny, Mr. Grimaldi. Being in heat makes me sound like a dog trying to haunch your leg.”
“Apologies,” Jeff replied. “So...you’re horny and you’re tugging and…?”
“And, you know, most guys can’t keep up with me. Well, like, none of them can, unless they’re NMC guys like me.”
"NMC?"
“New Muscle Club guys.” Jeff nodded his understanding. Something new was happening. “Yeah. So there’s this room of sex-starved dudes and, sure, maybe I can have some fun with one or two, but they get worn out so fast and, like, they’re not...very good.”
“Very good at what?”
“At sex. At fucking. At...well, anything, really." Jason started to gesture as he spoke, making his collection of muscle flex and bulge with alarming beauty and power. “Maybe they just need some practice. Maybe they’ll never be able to match up with what guys like me can do. But, you know, whatever, just tugging on guys isn’t as...satisfying as picking out one guy and tugging him hard.”
“Hard?”
He nodded and smiled, glancing at Mr. Grimaldi’s package. “Hard.”
“What is it you can do that they can’t?”
“Like, in sex?”
“Yes. In sex.”
“Mostly stamina, I guess. And flexibility? And, like, I dunno, they’re just not as...active...as I am. I mean, I need a lot of sex, Mr. Grimaldi, and most guys can go for about 10 or 15 minutes and they’re done. And that’s just not enough.”
“How much is enough?”
“Now who’s propositioning without the slightest hint of subtlety?”
Jeff’s face colored and his body heated up. “Sorry, Jason. You’re right.”
Jason straightened and held up his hands. “Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Grimaldi. I like when you proposition me. I like it when you’re asking about how much sex do I need, and what do I like doing, and for how long.” He tilted his handsome head. “How much do you really want to know?”
“I shouldn’t be asking you these sorts of questions.”
Jason shrugged. It looked like a mountain range fighting itself. “I don’t mind. And it’s just you and me here, anyway. I won’t tell if you won’t.” He tucked his thumbs into the hips of his small bathing suit, dragging it down his hips another inch. The root of his massive meat rose above the edge of his trunks, and the wealth of his pubic bush and the shining golden curls that erupted like a crown above his manhood bloomed in abundance.
Jeff was certainly acquainted with the overt sexuality of the Muscle Club members. You couldn’t miss them in the hallways at school, brushing up against each other, trading glances and smiles, passing their hands along each others’ muscular bodies with ease and intimate familiarity. They mostly refrained from outright sexual contact, but he would occasionally catch them in a kiss or embrace when they thought they were alone, and rather than display embarrassment about the raw sexual nature of their relationships, they would merely nod an understanding that what they were doing was not strictly allowed on school grounds and they would part, hand-in-hand, for somewhere else to finish their tryst.
And then of course there was Raul, who had no sense of propriety or morality at all, and would often pull out his amazing and beautiful manhood at any given moment, offering it up for worship.
And their bodies, as large and powerful as they were, seemed determined to rip free of their clothing on a regular basis. He had been witness himself to more than one occasion of a young man growing agitated, clearly in the throes of whatever internal engine was pumping them so full of sex and muscle, and moments later that same young man was literally bursting from his already tight clothing as fresh bands of hard muscle swelled along his limbs and pushed his chest forward by the inch, and then he was sitting in Jeff's classroom nearly naked with a prodigious erection throbbing between his more powerful legs, begging to be excused.
Jeff swallowed hard, but he couldn’t pass up this opportunity to learn more about what was happening to these young men. “How does it happen?”
“How does what happen?”
“How did you start growing?”
“How did I change?” Jeff nodded. “The first time I….”
“Sorry. The first time? There’s been more than one time?”
“Oh, yeah, Mr. Grimaldi. I mean, I’m constantly growing - getting bigger, getting stronger - like, every day. But sometimes when we invite someone new into MC, some guy who isn’t like us of course, the first time we have sex with him we change again.”
“What does that mean?”
Jason leaned back against the counter again, but he kept tugging his suit a little bit lower on his hips. “Well, like last week with Terrance.”
“Terrance? Terrance Broderick?” Terrance had met with Jeff in a counseling session. The boy had been struggling with yearnings that Jeff understood only too clearly, but he’d been unable to offer valuable advice without exposing his own sexuality.
“Yeah. Me and Terrance have been….”
“Terrance and I have been,” Jeff corrected automatically.
Jason laughed a little. “Always a teacher, huh? Terrance and I have been hanging out together, sometimes. He was hot for me so we fooled around a little, but I was always really careful around him.”
“Why?”
“You may have noticed that there are a few...drawbacks to being this big and, like, noticeable. And I liked him and I didn’t want him to have to...deal with that shit. It doesn’t really bother me anymore. People are gonna stare and judge and whatever, that’s not my problem it’s theirs. But he’s…he was a sensitive guy. I didn’t want him hurt.”
“So you can be with someone and not invite them into Muscle Club?”
Jason nodded. “If I’m careful. I mean, it’s not the easiest thing in the world, particularly when you like them.”
“And you liked Terrance?”
“I love Terrance,” he said simply. “Anyway, last week he asked me to change him. My friend Malcolm, I’d just...accidentally changed him, too, and we needed someplace to, like, get our shit together before he had to go home and deal with all that. Parents,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“You accidentally…?”
He shrugged. “Well, if I’m being perfectly honest it wasn’t so much an accident as a loss of control on my part. Like I said, I’m always horny and Malcolm, well, he maybe found one of my ultra-sensitive buttons and pushed it a bit too hard, and one thing lead to another and bang, boom, splash, Malcolm starts swelling up.”
“With muscle.”
“Muscle, cock, the whole package. The first time is super intense. It’s kind of hard to describe to someone who hasn’t been through it, but picture the best sex you ever had. Like, the time you thought your cock was going to explode and your balls ached and your head was spinning and you couldn’t form words?” Jeff nodded, more to keep the conversation going than to show an understanding of the experience. “Okay, so, pump that up about, like, a thousand percent and that’s getting the full Muscle Club treatment the first time.
“So then your body is, like, overflowing with power. You’re like glowing with it. You’re nuclear, right? A bomb with a hair trigger and enough juice to fucking blow up half the planet. And you gotta do something with all that so you find the nearest available target, which is usually the guy who just pumped you full of the stuff in the first place, and when you give it back to him he starts growing again.”
“Every time?”
“Every time. That’s a no-fail method if you want to get even bigger. Sometimes it's, like, really intense and sometimes it's less intense. Always depends on the guy. Sometimes the effects are kind of, what, localized? So instead of muscle maybe you get more cock. Or heavier loads from your fat balls. Or your face changes again. Or maybe you get taller. It’s always hard to tell what’ll happen, but something will happen.”
None of this made sense in the scheme of what Jeff knew about evolution. Nothing happened that fast. And nothing happened every time. Clearly some kind of alien or artificial agent was at work, but where did it start from and why was it so...powerful? “And it works every time?”
“You mean the first time or…?”
“I mean you’ve never tried to change another person and nothing happened?”
“Oh. Yeah, works every time. 100% effective. If you say the word and I whip out my dick and you swallow even a little of my super juice, I get to watch you start to swell with muscle and then the hunger hits and you grab onto my nozzle and start sucking and I start pumping and,” he snapped his fingers, “bigger and bigger.”
“As big as you?”
“At least as big as me.”
“At least?”
Jason smiled and nodded, tugging his suit another inch lower. “At least. Like I said, when I changed Terrance, he grew bigger than anyone. Bigger than me. Bigger than...you remember Brian Chan?”
Jeff did. He was hard to miss. Brian Chan was a monster, almost too big to fit down the halls at school. “Yeah.”
“Fucking bigger than Brian Chan.” Jason glanced down at his groin and back up. “Do you mind if I….I kinda need to relieve the pressure.” Then he suddenly thrust his huge paw down the front of his bathing suit and pulled out inch after fat inch of his monster hose, extracting the fattest, longest, juiciest cock that Jeff had ever seen and held it in his grip. The shaft was so fat that he couldn’t encompass it fully. “All this talk about sex and growth and Terrance and you standing there without your shirt on with that furry chest and your flat belly and your hard-on pushing against your jeans - I’m all sorts of hot and bothered.”
“You want to…?”
“No, Mr. Grimaldi. I’ve got to.” Jason’s prick was visibly throbbing and growing even longer and thicker. He was obviously and demonstrably aroused, and his cock was rising with mind-bending speed. “Unless you want a first-hand experience at receiving an invitation to Muscle Club, could you point me in the direction of your bathroom?”
Jeff pointed wordlessly towards the hallway and watched Jason move towards it. His ass bobbed and flexed and he was shoving his bathing suit down as he moved. At the doorway, he turned slightly and asked, “Do you...want to watch?”
“Watch?”
“You seem curious. Did you want to watch me cum? Did you want to see how much? Did you want to see how big?”
“Will I…?”
Jason shook his head slightly. “You won’t change unless you get some in your mouth. You won’t change unless….you want to?”
Jeff wanted to watch. God damn he wanted to watch! Not only for the sake of scientific curiosity, but because at that moment he couldn’t think of anything sexier or more desirable in the world. So open mouthed and sweating, he nodded and followed his student down the hall of his house towards his bathroom.
Jason extracted the bathing suit from his insanely beautiful and awesomely powerful body as they moved along the hall and let it fall from his hand in front of Jeff’s bedroom door. He was now entirely naked, and Jeff could hear a wet stroking sound coming from the front of Jason’s impossibly wide and staggeringly tapered back. Every muscle on Jason’s body was incredibly defined and perfectly proportioned. He was a walking anatomy chart of perfect muscular development.
“You have a nice place, Mr. Grimaldi,” Jason observed. “I like your bed. That’s a king-sized mattress, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Jeff said.
“Mmm,” Jason moaned. “I’m fucking close already. You have a shower?”
“Yes.”
“Not, like, a bathtub with a curtain around it?”
“It’s...it’s a shower. Glass doors.”
“Perfection,” Jason declared.
Was he getting taller as he walked? Was his back growing broader? Where his shoulders rising higher? Was his powerful neck widening along his inflating trapezius muscles? Was every bulging mound of brawn on his perfect body swelling bigger as he walked so slowly down the hallway?
Jason turned sideways to fit his bulk through the small bathroom door. Jeff gasped audibly at the sight of Jason’s throbbing monster, now at full power and rising along the front of his body, the glistening helmet nearly tucking its plum-sized head into the lower cleavage of his swollen pecs. The whole of it was gleaning with a thick flow of honey, and the smell of Jason - that musk he released like perfume - nearly slapped Jeff in the face.
Jason looked sideways at the teacher and smiled. “Yeah,” he said, “it feels as great as you think it does. But you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He squeezed his chest and ass between the door’s frame and ducked his head to gain entrance. Then he moved his ample bulk into the shower stall and closed the glass door behind him. His cock, maybe two feet tall, was as thick as Jeff’s entire arm. Jason’s balls had inflated into shiny twin globes that were now hanging low and full, visibly pulsing. “Can you see me?” he asked.
Jeff nodded, speechless. There was a god in his shower. A god with a cock like a third leg and a body built like he could physically dismantle a nuclear furnace with his bare hands.
“Are you ready?”
Another nod.
“Excellent.”
And then Jason closed his eyes, arching his head on his powerful neck, sucked in a deep breath, groaned like a bear in the woods and exploded.
The amount of cum from his first burst nearly obliterated the entire glass door. It looked almost as if he had tossed a gallon of milk against the glass. Jeff could hear Jason expel the abundance of cum from his balls and up every inch of that magnificent, mind-spinning cock. Jason groaned again and another sudden splash of thick white cream splattered against the glass. Then another. And another.
Each release was as thick and full and powerful as the last. Jason came over and over, groaning in obviously orgasmic bliss each time, emptying his balls against the shower stall door. The smell of raw sex filled the house. Jeff found his cock growing painfully hard as he watched and heard and smelled the other man’s sexual release go on and on.
It was impossible. It was insane. But there it was, happening in his bathroom, in his shower, again and again.
Jason moaned, “Awwww, fuck,” after releasing two or three dozen heavy blasts of cum against the glass door. Then, as Jeff watched, Jason leaned forward and began to lick the glass with a long, wet, pink tongue. He placed his large hands against the glass as he leaned in, and Jeff watched awestruck as the cream evaporated wherever Jason’s skin came in contact with it.
It looked like - but that wasn’t possible, was it? - it looked like Jason’s body was physically soaking up his own wealth of cream like a sponge. Jason pressed his whole body against the glass, rubbing his skin and muscles on the wall of cream as he licked and gulped his loads off the door until, miraculously, the glass appeared as clean and transparent as when he had entered the small space.
Then he was standing there, his hands against the glass, his mammoth cock deflating to a more manageable size, his chest rising and falling and his perfect assemblage of eight-pack abdominals swelling out and in as he gulped in deep, post-sex breaths. “Fuck,” he said, smiling, “I needed that.”