O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Transform: New Blood 42

by AKA

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Leonard just could not stop looking at the guy. There was something literally magnetic about him. And it wasn’t just the undeniable fact that the dude had a body built like a brick shithouse. The dude was stacked and ripped. It was extremely evident. His clothing couldn’t hide it, and it didn’t look like he was all that interested in trying to hide it, anyway.

And why would he be? Leonard considered himself a kind of connoisseur of muscle. Though he had tried in vain to build himself the kind of body that the other dude possessed and displayed with such understated pride, he could appreciate and admire both the dedication and the determination – not to mention the time, energy and concentration – it took to mold one’s body into the simulation of perfection he was looking at right now.

At the same time, no matter how strongly he was drawn to the dude and how much he wanted to admire his body, he felt, under the current circumstances, that it would be really weird to do it. Since, like, they were both standing in line at a Carl’s Jr.

The dude was one line over, and two people ahead of where Leonard was standing. From this angle, Leonard could note the man’s incredible wealth of ass. The man had ass out the ass! It was big, it was bold, it was beautiful. In those painted-on jeans, the deep indents on either side were pronounced and amazing. The muscle jutted out thick and massive, almost like a shelf. It was, he had to say, an awesome ass.

Then there were the dude’s triceps. Again, just fucking awesome. Huge horseshoes with thick fingers of brawn crawling under the sleeve of his turquoise blue Polo shirt. And then there was, like, a wing of muscle spreading from his upper back. It was fucking heavy and Leonard could watch it spread and thicken with the slightest movement as he shifted his stance, scanning the menu.

He wasn’t just wide and thick, either. The dude was tall! Like, a head taller than anyone else in line! Leonard wished he could see the dude’s neck. He just fucking knew that it was wide and thick and cabled with muscle. It probably spread onto his traps like a pyramid. A pyramid of muscle.

The dude turned slightly to shift his gaze around the restaurant. Fuuuuuck, look at that chest! Even from this angle, behind and to the side, Leonard could see a massive bulging wealth of meat mounted on the dude’s upper body. It wasn’t even fair! Jesus, Leonard wondered, just how long did it take, how many hours in the gym, how many years of shoving iron around, did it take to build a body like that.

Leonard could worship at that temple. Leonard could… fuck, the dude was looking right at him! Eye to eye! Fuck!

Leonard looked away, but probably not quickly enough. Oh, fuck. Fuck! Leonard swallowed into a suddenly dry throat and the fear of discovery sent a shock of heat all over his skin and deflated his growing hard-on. Leonard tried to look nonchalant. He pulled in a breath and made a bored face and looked away from the dude, finding himself, for some stupid reason, studying a garbage can’s lid with great intent.

The line moved. He was one person closer to the dude. He was so fucking big! He seemed to swell and throb as Leonard grew closer to his bulk. Leonard looked down at his feet and tucked his hands into his jeans, grabbing his keys and a bunch of loose change in his sweaty paws.

He really, really wanted to look at the dude. He shifted his gaze slightly toward where the dude was standing and saw his feet. He was wearing flip-flops. Even the dudes fucking feet looked powerful! How was that even possible? How did a dude work out his fucking feet?

Leonard’s line moved again. The dude was now standing right next to him. Huge didn’t even begin to describe him. It was like standing next to a house or something. This big, looming, hulking shape. Just, like, fucking massive! Right there!

Still looking down, almost afraid now to lift his gaze again, he moved his eyes up the dude’s leg. Fuuuuck, Leonard thought. Oh, fuuuuck, look at that fucking massive leg! He could see, literally see the fat lobes of brawn pushing against the dude’s jeans! They were flexing and shifting, so alive and huge and hard! Leonard’s dick woke up from its fearful slumber and started throbbing. He shifted his right hand off his keys and pushed his cock in his Jockeys. Fuuuuck, just look at that dude’s fucking massive leg!

Leonard heard a sound. Something like a low roar, or a hum. Something deep and hard. It was the dude! The dude was laughing! Snickering at him! Fuck! Fucking fuck!

Move line! Fucking move! Fuuck, oh fucking fuck…

“Hey,” said a voice to Leonard’s left.

Leonard didn’t answer. He couldn’t be talking to him. No fucking way.

“Dude,” the voice said, more clearly. The voice sounded amused. Then there was a touch on Leonard’s arm. A hand on his bicep. “Dude,” the voice said again. “Len.”

Huh? What? The fuck?

Leonard looked up. And up. And up some more. There was a handsome smiling face looking back at him. It had blue eyes and a heavy five o’clock shadow on it’s chiseled jaw. The face’s nose was angular and prominent, as was its brow. Two thick lines of hair arched over the blue, blue eyes and the mouth, stuffed with two lines of exceptionally white teeth and surrounded by full, smiling lips, was quirked into an amused grin. “You okay, dude?”

Leonard looked at the man’s eyes, his smile, his all too familiar butt-chin. The fuck? “Kirk?”

“Dude,” the face said, and the grin broke into a wide, full smile. “What up?”

Leonard suddenly found his body surrounded by an awesome collection of exceptionally thick, exceptionally hard muscle. Kirk wrapped his heavily muscled arms around Leonard’s smaller frame and hugged him tight and close. Leonard felt a sudden heat building up inside him, and the scent of his friend Kirk, something he hardly ever noticed before, seemed to coat him in a fog of intense sensuality. Kirk smelled good. Like, really really good.

Leonard was feeling every day of his nearly 40 years on the planet. He knew he looked it, too, even though he was at the gym twice a week and had managed to put some decent meat on his bones. But age and gravity had a way of catching up to a person, and he did like his cheeseburgers.

But Kirk, even besides the fact that he was much, much larger than he had ever been and also, weirdly, seemed taller as well, his own face still managed to retain the look of youth and vigor they shared 20 years ago. Gravity and age were taking some sort of vacation where Kirk was concerned.

Leonard hugged him back and marveled at the feeling of his body. It was so hard, everywhere! Huge and hard and bulging. But it was all moving with fluid grace. All that muscle, so tightly contained, and so alive and vital. And there was also something thick and long and firm pressing against him from inside Kirk’s pants, something that felt decidedly larger than before as well. “What the fuck…?”

Kirk held up a finger. His forearm was a vast network of vascular beauty. “One sec.” He turned to the counter person and said, “Chocolate shake, large fries, and four Low Carb Six Dollar burgers, please.” He gave the counter girl a big smile that almost made the girl cream her panties right there, then he turned back to Leonard. “What’ll you have?”

“All that’s for you?”

He tilted his handsome head slightly and winked. “I’m a growing boy.”

“I’ll say!” Leonard’s answer was a bit too agreeable, but he just said, “I’ll have a Super Star with Cheese and a Diet Coke.”

“That’s all?”

“I’m growing too, just not the same way you are.” Leonard patted his little Buddha belly and laughed slightly. Then he turned he attention back to his friend’s amazing body, scanning along the lines and curves and bulging bellies of muscle that were popping all along his every inch. “Working out much?”

Kirk laughed again. It started somewhere inside his absurdly huge chest and emerged like a thunder peal. “A little.” He lifted his right arm and swelled the bicep into power. The muscle balled up and swelled out, shoving against the confines of his shirtsleeve until the peak rose into a perfect, beautiful baseball of brawn. His shoulder joined the party, arching higher and higher as its muscular contents flexed and swelled. Even his chest, which should have flattened out and stretched as he raised his arm, it seemed to grow larger, too, reaching toward Leonard invitingly. “You like?”

Leonard felt breathless and amazed. He hadn’t seen his old high school buddy in years. They’d managed to survive the post-teen years and even college together, and maintained contact after that. Then, his friend gradually stopped responding and finally disappeared. “I’m impressed. Are you pro?”

“Not exactly.” He just kept smiling at Leonard. “You’re looking good, bro.”

“Yeah, well, I try.” He fell silent, drinking in the endless vista of muscular beauty before him.

“Married?”

“Only to my job. You?”

Kirk’s smile widened and he narrowed his gaze. “Nope. Never married. Fooled around a lot. Still am, truth be told.” The man actually reached down and grabbed hold of his groin, his grip filled up with whatever sausage he was hiding down there – overflowing with it, in fact. “I have a lot of hungers.” He winked. God, he looked 18 years old. Life just wasn’t fair. “Look, let’s get the grub and get caught up.” Kirk’s gaze fell down along the smaller man’s frame, noting the insistent bulge in his crotch particularly. “I have a lot of interesting things to tell you.”

Kirk grabbed the food tray and maneuvered his muscled bulk to a table away from the teenagers and families gathered for a cheap meal. He practically inhaled two whole burgers before sitting back and sighing contentedly. His chest seemed to swell outward and pull the placket of his Polo shirt open. Leonard couldn’t help but see the forest of dark curls that erupted from the opening, as well as what looked like a deeply carved valley between the globes of muscle. Kirk’s twin nipples, fat and hard, pushed against the bright blue material. All at once, Leonard realized that the shirt matched his old friend’s azure gaze, particularly since Kirk was staring at him as he tried to surreptitiously observe his schoolmate.

Kirk smiled a knowing kind of smile and nodded his head. “You got it bad, bro.”

“What?”

Kirk leaned forward and sat upright. It reminded Leonard just how tall he actually was. “What are you up to these days?” he asked, changing the subject he’d introduced.

“Work. A lot of work. Web stuff. Middle management. The whole nightmare. You?”

Kirk’s smile was gorgeous. It didn’t hurt that his eyes were so god damned blue and his whole face, with that gruff of beard winding along his angular jaw, was an exercise in masculine beauty. “You like it?” Kirk reached for his third burger and sucked down some shake.

Leonard shrugged. “Pays the bills.” Kirk was chewing and smiling, chewing and smiling. Leonard’s eyes started to drift again, moving across the other man’s broad shoulders, his thickly muscled neck, the mammoth chest. His body was amazing. Beyond amazing. “So, I guess you spend your life at the gym?”

Kirk swallowed and sucked some more chocolate shake before answering. “I do tend to spend a lot of time at the gym.” He licked his lower lip and let his gaze dip along Len’s body. “You really look good, Len. Really good.”

“I try.”

There was a silence. Kirk kept staring at Leonard’s face. Leonard kept staring at Kirk’s body. Kirk leaned back again and moved his hands under the table. Leonard watched his movements curiously, the way his arms bulged and flexed, the way his pecs moved under the shirt, the way his entire upper body was a symphony of muscular power and utter masculine perfection. Then, to his shock and wonder, Kirk was pulling the shirt’s hem up his body, exposing the most distinctly defined six-pack that Leonard had ever seen.

His eyes bulged and his breath caught. Kirk held the shirt up with his right hand and moved the fingers of his left to the smooth, tanned skin covering his cobblestone belly. He pulled the skin across his well-developed muscular abdomen, and let it snap back into place. It was a sensuous and dick-hardening display.

The shirt moved back to cover his belly and he reached for the final burger.

Leonard was dumbfounded and mesmerized. His eyes came back up Kirk’s body and their gaze met again. Kirk was still grinning. “Yep, my friend. You got it real bad.”

“What do you mean?”

Kirk’s smile never wavered. “I’m gonna hit the head. Will you be here when I come back?” Leonard smiled back and nodded. Kirk watched the other man’s gaze linger worshipfully across his body as he stood up. It made him pump his muscles up a bit more beneath his clothing, and they tightened against him agreeably. He watched his old friend’s eyes bulge when they found his insistent hard-on, fat and long, pressing insistently against their denim cage. Kirk had grown continually more horny as he had been sitting there, glorying both in the attention of his college roommate and the knowledge and anticipation of what was to come. It made his cock swell and lengthen, and he needed to do something about the load of hot cream bulging in his ball sack or he was going to blow his wad right then and there.

As Kirk wandered toward the men’s room, he sighed with contentment. It was a little unfair, what he was doing. Finding Leonard again was ludicrously simple. His name was all over Google, what with his web work and the blog. Plugging his name into Linked In yielded a history of his professional life, and where he had been, and where he was now. His MySpace page told Kirk everything he needed to know about the other man’s desires, and of his powerful admiration for the male body.

Leonard was even active in gay political causes. He must have come out years ago. It made Kirk both proud and a little shamed that he had hidden his sexuality for so long, and also regretful that they’d never consummated their strong attraction when they were younger.

People could be so stupid, sometimes. And frightened. He knew that well enough.

Pushing through the door, he approached an empty stall and already had his monster in his hands. It swelled with eager pride in his grip, unfurling by the inch as it readied itself for another round of orgasmic pleasure, shoving Kirk’s thick load of warm cum through its heavy inches, rewarding its owner with another overwhelming cascade of sexual bliss.

He thought about Leonard as he came. The stream erupted hard and fast, and he balled his hand into a tight fist to keep from shouting with joy. Every time he came, now, it seemed more intense than the last time. The pearlescent white fountain splashed and gushed into the bowl for a couple of minutes until he felt the tide of sexual power diminish. He knew he could keep coming forever, but he simply needed to release the pressure on the dam before it grew too powerful to stop.

He wished he could've swallowed his own load rather than waste all that power, but he'd been warned that too much of a good thing would make it harder - much harder - to contain himself in any form that could possibly pass in public. He sighed with regret.

Thinking of Len, now, Kirk felt a renewed sexual thrill heat his Transformed body. When they gifted him with the final change that made him into a sexual god, they asked him to find more men who would want to come to The Brotherhood. In that moment – that precise moment – he thought of only one man, the man he had loved in secret, the man he knew loved him back. Len, good old Len. Fuck, he was still so fucking cute. He couldn’t wait to see him packed with brawn. He ached to have his perfect ass fucked by a huge dick owned by Len. He wanted to smell Len on his own body, and lie with Len in the afterglow of sex, and then turn that fucker over and plug into his ass and cum until dawn.

He bent he pliable body down and lifted his long prick to his lips, licking the helmet clean and sucking the final drops into his own mouth. The tingling quicksilver rush of heat and power suffused his body. Just those few drops… remarkable, he thought.

Then he tucked his mass back into his jeans, buttoned the fly and left the stall, feeling a bit relieved but no less horny than before he came.

Leonard was watching the door when Kirk stepped out. He wanted to watch the man walking back toward him, to see that body in motion from the front, how the muscles worked with and against each other, the heavy sway of his massive chest, the smile on his face, and those beautiful eyes. The man’s heavy prick still pushed against his jeans, causing folds of denim to gather around it. Fuck, he was hot.

Kirk sat back down, slowly, and looked across at his old friend. He looked flushed, his skin was ruddy and he was even sweating a little. Kirk pulled back the sex vibes and allowed his scent to diminish. No sense in overwhelming Len just yet. Besides, there was no need. All Leonard wanted, now, was Kirk. Nothing but Kirk. And Kirk smiled.

Kirk couldn’t wait any longer.

“Yes, my friend, you got it real bad.”

Leonard’s brow wrinkled. “What?”

“Your dick is so hard right now, it’s a wonder I can’t hear your pants ripping apart.” Leonard swallowed and felt a flash of embarrassment and shock suffuse his body. “You want to see my body so bad it hurts. You were checking out my ass in line, Len. You were staring at it. And let me tell you, Len my friend, it’s even more amazing when it’s not encased in denim.”

Leonard opened his mouth to pull in a shuddering breath.

“My ass is a thing of beauty. It’s gorgeous. It’s perfect. High, hard and thick. Two massive globes of muscular power.” Kirk smiled.

“Holy fuck.”

“You have no idea, Len. No fucking clue what it’s like. ‘Holy fuck?’ Truer words were never spoken. I am a fucking fuck god, Len. I am a sex piston, a volcano of cum, a man beyond your dreams of perfection.” He leaned forward, and his deep, powerful voice dropped to a near whisper. “I expect you to leave with me, Len. Because I’m going to strip myself out of these clothes for you, just for you, and you’re going to be able to see every inch of my power, every bulging muscle, every thick, hard, awesome cable of brawn.” Kirk stood up. The evident and massive hard-on in his jeans was back. The shaft was stretching the material as if it was made of steel. The helmet was bulging to be free. It seemed to be throbbing and swelling as Leonard looked at it.

“And then you’re going to suck my cock until I’m satisfied.”

“Yes,” Leonard responded.

“And then I’m going to give you a gift, Leonard. I’m going to give you your heart’s desire. You think I look good, Len?” He twisted his arm around and the bicep swelled into a massive, hard ball. “You think you’ve seen everything?” Kirk’s chest began to expand. The open neck of his Polo began to tear itself open. “Len, my friend, my old love, you’re not going to fucking believe what’s coming to you.”

As Leonard stood up, Kirk leaned forward in the Carl’s Jr. and kissed his college roommate on the mouth. He placed his wide paw behind Leonard’s head and pulled him into the passion of the kiss. His scent surrounded them like a tonic.

“Let’s go, Len,” he said.

---

Marvin looked up from his laptop as the doorbell rang. He stood and looked through his bedroom window to see who was interrupting his jerk-off session, and couldn’t see anyone outside. The bushes blocked his view, and he contemplated just ignoring the intruder and continuing with his intent perusal of his vault of tasty naked men.

The doorbell rang again.

“Well, fuck,” he said, as he pulled his pants up and tried to shove his eager hard-on back into his trousers. It was insistent and angry to have been interrupted in its pleasures, and refused to cooperate initially. Marvin huffed a soft laugh through his nose and looked down at the obvious bulge in his jeans. “At least there’s no precum stain,” he said, and he left the soft glow of pornographic beauty behind and went to answer the door.

The bell rang a third time and Marvin called out, “Coming!” as he laughed again at the truth of that statement. ‘If only,’ he thought, rubbing his happy stiffy like a playful pup that wanted attention. Peering through the peephole, Marvin recognized the familiar brown uniform of the UPS man. He tried to remember what Amazon had sent him today as he opened the door, but all thoughts of new gadgets disappeared from his brain the moment he set eyes on the man standing on his front porch.

“Hey,” the deliveryman said. His voice was so deep it nearly rattled the storm windows. A furnace blast of damp, hot Arkansas air hit Marvin full in the face, and he felt like he was sweating everywhere all at once. It never even occurred to him that there was no familiar brown truck sitting at the curb.

There was something odd and absurd about the scene, but something else in Marvin’s brain couldn’t quite put two and two together. Did the UPS often hire bodybuilders to deliver goods? And couldn’t they have found a uniform that actually fit their drivers? And why was he barefoot? He was used to seeing the UPS guy in tight shorts, but these were ridiculously tight, almost obscenely so.

And… did men who looked like that actually exist in real life? The collection of naked male perfection sitting on Marvin’s hard drive paled in comparison to what was right now standing at the threshold to his small house in Little Rock, wearing a UPS uniform that barely contained him, holding a small box in one hand as he leaned his tall, thick, muscular body against the door frame.

“Got something for ya,” he said. There was a smile on his lips. His sensuous, full, moist, soft lips. He had brown eyes, dark and deep, surrounded by thick lashes. His nose looked crooked, but it fit his face perfectly. There was something familiar about its shape, something that tickled the back of Marvin’s memory. He had never actually seen a ‘square jaw’ before, but this man defined the term. The arm propped up against the doorframe was overwhelmed with brawn, and the shirtsleeve was pushed back by the swollen brawn to reveal a wealth of gleaming dark curls in the deep, sweaty armpit. The man couldn’t even button up the shirt much beyond his navel. It was wide open, exposing an impressive, massive chest coated in more dark curls, and one fat nipple peaked out invitingly.

He moved his other arm forward and handed Mason the little brown box. It felt very light, as if there was nothing in it at all. “Hot one,” the driver said in his powerful tones. He pulled back his empty hand and applied it to his chest, wiping his touch through the masses of fur so that its coat of sweat made it lay flat against his gleaming flesh. Marvin watched as several curls slowly pulled themselves free of the slick of the man’s sweat to recurl against the mass of his chest muscles.

Marvin nodded. “It is,” he agreed. “Hot one.”

The other man’s smile increased. “Yeah.”

They stood there for a few seconds in silence. Marvin’s hard on was more insistent than ever, and his worries about precum resurfaced as he felt a sudden gush erupt from his energized prick.

“Listen, buddy,” the driver said, looking beyond Marvin into his house, “you wouldn’t happen to have something cold to drink, would ya?” He straightened up and his entire body seemed to expand to fill the doorway. The shirt was seriously threatening to rip itself apart. “I’d be mighty appreciative.” The other nipple made an appearance. It was as perky and fat as its brother, shoving aside the shirt like a chest-mounted dick head.

Marvin swallowed. It never occurred to him that the man didn’t have the usual handheld device to gather his scrawled signature for the empty box in his hand. But he recovered his wits enough to show some southern hospitality. “Uh, yeah. Yes! Of course. Why don’t you come on inside, all the cool air is escaping.”

“Thanks, friend,” the huge man said, and he stepped his barefooted body across the threshold and closed the door behind him. He stood near the door, folding his arms across his bared chest. The shirt strained to hold his arms inside its sleeves. Maybe it even tore a little. The hem lifted up above the waistband of his shorts. More fur caressed the rippled contours of his tight, muscular stomach. “Nice place,” he observed, but his eyes stayed glued on Marvin.

“Thanks,” he responded. “I guess you guys can’t have a beer while you’re work…”

“A beer sounds perfect,” he interrupted, giving Marvin a wink to accompany that killer smile. He had deep dimples in his tanned cheeks and his dark eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Have a seat,” Marvin offered, then he went into the kitchen to grab his guest a libation. After reaching into his fridge and grabbing a couple of cold microbrewed beers, he turned and found the man standing now in the door to his kitchen. Sun was streaming through the windows and it cast the man’s muscles in shadows that highlighted just how big he was. The crevasse between the hemispheres of his chest was insane. Even his fat little nipples were causing shadows of their own to fall on his skin. Marvin could see his tanned flesh beneath the wealth of curls and it looked like the dude had absolutely no body fat at all. “Oh!” Marvin said, surprised. “You startled me.”

The driver reached out and grabbed a beer out of Marvin’s hand. The arm attached to the driver’s grip was overwhelmed with brawn. Every muscle was in stark detail, and every stark detail was netted with a collection of thick veins, feeding power into his muscle. “Thanks,” he said. He pulled the bottle to his sensuous mouth and sucked the bottle’s lips between his own. Mason watched as he tilted his head back to welcome the cold suds inside his body. His Adam’s Apple bobbed and the cords of brawn lining his neck and throat flexed and bulged. He seemed to be sucking on the bottle like it was Marvin’s own…

Lowering the bottle, the driver locked eyes with Marvin. The smile came back to his lips again. ‘Fuck,’ he thought, ‘he really doesn’t know who I am. This is too fucking fun!’ The UPS man reached down with his free hand and adjusted his basket, making the copious length of cock and his two fat balls obvious during manipulations. Marvin followed the gestures with hungry eyes, and felt a thrill of passion upon seeing the treasure trail of dark fur leading down into the man’s crotch.

Catching himself staring so obviously, Marvin brought his gaze back up a little too quickly and blushed, the heat of his embarrassment pushing the air-conditioned coolness away in a split second. The other man’s smile increased in wattage. “You feeling okay?” he asked, tilting his bottle toward Marvin’s burgeoning hard-on. “You look a little… excited.”

The man walked forward into the kitchen. He was a towering monster of a man, 6-foot 4 or 5 inches tall, easily outclassing Marvin’s 5-foot 10-inch frame. “Good beer,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving Marvin’s steady gaze. “I bet you taste good.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, ‘you have good taste,” the huge man said. But Marvin was sure he hadn’t heard him incorrectly. The UPS driver was now standing two feet in front of him, easily within reach. He smelled rank and sweaty and altogether sexy as fuck. With every breath, his massive chest swelled outward, his nipples rubbed against his shirt, and his rippled 6-pack grew and receded. The driver hiked a thumb into the waist of his small shorts and they drew down an inch or two, revealing more of that enticing forest of pubes growing in such lush abundance. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Marvin barely whispered. His heart was beating fast. His dick was painfully hard.

“Do you want me to leave?” He stepped even closer.

“No,” Marvin admitted.

“What do you want me to do?”

“What?” Marvin’s breath caught. He almost came right there.

The man took another step. They were now so close that Marvin felt the huge man’s heat pouring off his muscles. His scent was overwhelming. Marvin could almost taste him. “What do you want me to do?” the man asked again. Their bodies were nearly touching.

“Take off your shirt.”

The driver’s mouth broke into a smile as he set his beer on the counter behind Marvin, reaching around him, surrounding him with his power and his smell and his sensuous presence, and put his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you do it,” he instructed.

Marvin blinked and gulped and set his beer aside. He looked at the three buttons on the lower half of the UPS uniform. They were pulled tightly across the man’s muscled belly. Soft curls of dark hair surrounds the material like vines. Mason carefully applied his touch to the first button and unfastened it. The other man let out a sift, deep moan of satisfaction, as if that simple gesture had felt like a sort of sexual bliss. Marvin steadied himself and undid the second button. Another deep, penetrating moan of satisfaction accompanied the action.

Just one button held the huge man’s shirt to his muscular body. Marvin rubbed the final release with his fingertip, almost hesitant to finish the job.

His hands were shaking as he unfastened the final button and the shirt fell open. The driver’s massive muscular form seemed almost to swell even larger as it was revealed. He was breathing slowly and steadily, and the movements of his torso were sensual and erotic, even in those minor movements. The huge man sighed and groaned as his body was unsheathed, and he turned around and said, “Take it off me.”

Marvin reached up and circled his hands around the driver’s thick neck to grasp the shirt. He pulled it off the man’s shoulders, revealing fat lobes of brawn covered in smooth, golden flesh. The UPS driver rolled his massive shoulders to free them, then moved his arms back to allow the shirt to more easily come off his body.

Marvin moved it down the man’s wide torso, revealing inch after bulging inch of massive muscular development stretching across his back. It was awesome and mesmerizing, just how much muscle and how big it all was. Then the shirtsleeves became caught on the man’s upper arms. “It’s stuck,” Marvin said softly.

“Is it?” the man answered. “Let me help you,” he added. As Marvin watched, the man straightened to his full height and brought his arms up, balling his hands into tight fists, and swelling his biceps and triceps to full glory.

Mason heard a rip. A pop. Another rip. The man turned around slowly as his arms tore through the dark brown material. He seemed to be able to pump them larger and larger, as if they could grow more massive at his command. The sleeves tore open across the high peaks of his awesome biceps and as he lowered his arms, the shirt fell from his body, leaving him naked from the waist up.

“Oh my god,” Marvin whispered.

 

Frank felt a surge of sexual excitement through his Transformed body. They said it would be like this, that he’d have a hard time containing himself the first few times. But he never imagined it would feel like this.

His body was straining at the restrictions he’d placed on it. He wanted to show Marvin exactly how much he’d changed, what he had become, and what Marvin had in store for him.

When they told Frank, after they’d given him the gift of membership in The Brotherhood at Transformation Gym in St. Louis that he had a duty to find more men to bring to the fold, but that these men had to want the gift as it was given, he knew exactly who he’d pay his first call on.

Marvin. Marvin the Muscle Master. Marvin would appreciate what Transform did to a man, and he’d welcome it with open arms. Hell, hadn’t they as much as fantasized about this very thing, in this very house? They’d sat there on Marvin’s couch, watching some Colt porn, some gay-for-pay bodybuilder pleasuring himself, and as they stroked out mutual loads in a friendly, professional manner (“because we’re friends!” Marvin had protested, when Frank first suggested they do a little more than jerking off on the couch, “and it would feel weird!”) they both agreed that what they wanted to see was some huge, muscular behemoth and some skinny little dude going at it. One would overpower the other – but it would be the skinny dude making the Alpha Male do his bidding.

Marvin even mentioned his UPS fetish. Maybe when a guy finally realizes his fantasies, he doesn’t even realize it?

Finding the uniform had been easier than he imagined. Who knew that Goodwill had a selection of old uniforms, from Postal Worker to orange construction vests to operation room fatigues? Frank realized he could knock on Marvin’s door and pretend to be a meter reader, or a Mailman, or even a pizza delivery dude, though that one seemed a little too ‘bad porn cliché,’ particularly since it required that Marvin had actually ordered a pizza.

The uniform was nowhere near big enough to contain his new bulk, no matter how tightly he managed to compress it. His new altered body didn’t quite conform to human norms anymore, and finding an actual UPS uniform at all was miracle enough. So what if it didn’t fit?

Now his old friend was standing before him with a raging hard on in his pants and evident muscle lust in his eyes. Frank allowed a knowing smile onto his lips. This was going to be fun!

 

Frank pushed his desires and the overwhelming lust for growth and strength back down. He wanted to draw this one out, his first Transformation, the one he’d always remember, and to give his friend every second of pleasure he could deliver. “That feels better,” he said, as he started to flex and stretch his monster frame, displaying the awesome dimensions and beauty of his muscular body for the appreciative audience.

“Excuse me,” he said softly, as he reached around Marvin again to retrieve the beer he didn’t actually want, but it put on a good show. He nursed the mouth like a hard cock, again, wrapping his lips reverently around the bottle’s lips and sucking against the suds, swallowing greedily. He wiped his mouth with his arm, sending out another thick cloud of male pheromones, and hooked his thumbs in his waistband again, pulling the shorts lower on his narrow hips. He arched an eyebrow and said, “Aren’t you going to open your package?” He chugged another swallow of cold beer and shifted his gaze south, staring openly at Marvin’s urgent erection. His own cock swelled in lustful desire.

“What? Oh… oh, yeah. Um, pardon me?” Frank’s massive bulk was blocking his way. The huge man stepped aside with a smile and sucked in a calming breath. This was proving harder than he had anticipated. But he knew it would all be worth the wait.

The box was sitting on the floor. Had Marvin even realized that he dropped it? He picked it up and examined it for a return address. It was from his old friend, Frank, who’d relocated to Missouri a few months ago. Was it two years now? They emailed each other occasionally, and each had promised the other a visit, but neither had managed it. Marvin liked Frank a lot. They shared a lot in common, and he immediately wished that his old friend was here right now to get a load of the prime beef on display in Marvin’s kitchen.

He heard movement behind him and Marvin turned around. The huge man was looming over his shoulder, looking down at the small brown cardboard box in his hands. “Something unexpected?” he asked. His voice rumbled against Marvin’s body like a detonation.

“Something from a friend,” he answered.

“Something personal?” the shirtless, barefooted, entirely too sexy UPS driver inquired.

Marvin shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Mind if I finish my beer before I go?”

“Oh, no! I mean, not at all. Have a seat while you finish it.”

The UPS driver pivoted with a smile and a nod and sauntered toward Marvin’s deeply cushioned couch. Marvin watched his ass move as he walked. It looked almost as if the man was giving him a show. And it was quite a good show, too. The globes shifted and flexed, the two cheeks somehow carving out individual globes of power beneath his shorts. It looked, almost, as if the two muscled bubbles were kissing each other as he walked. Then he paused, looking down at the couch, as if there was already someone sitting there. He moved that amazing ass around and plopped his bulk down, opening his legs wide to allow his overburdened basket room to spill its contents forward. The couch literally sagged and groaned under the weight of his bulk. He stretched his thickly muscled arms across the back after setting his beer on the side table, then moved his darkly sparkling gaze back toward Marvin.

The other man appeared frozen in place. He was staring not at Frank’s face, but rather at his crotch. With a glance down, it was evident why that was. In shifting his bulk into the couch, the plump head of his prick had become entirely evident under the material of his shorts. Not only that, but it was also exceptionally obvious that the UPS driver sitting on Marvin’s couch had a copious length of thick cock. His basket was nearly bursting. The material had pulled away from the zipper and thin lines of bunched brown cotton were gathered into tight arrows pointing at the wealth of meat thickly coiled in his groin.

The huge man cleared his throat to gain Marvin’s attention away from his inviting prick. Marvin swallowed and looked at the box in his hands. It felt absolutely empty. He peeled the packing tape from one flap and tore the box open. Something small and shiny fell from it and landed at his feet.

It was a single foil-wrapped condom. A Durex XXL Extra Large, to be precise. Nine and a half inches long. An inch and three-quarters wide. The biggest condom available.

Marvin picked up the little black and blue packet and turned it over in his fingers. “Wanna see a trick?” he heard a deep, sensual voice ask him.

“Pardon me?”

“I have a trick I want to show you,” the driver said. “I think you’ll appreciate it.”

“A trick?” Marvin looked over at the huge man.

“A kind of a trick,” he said. “More like a talent, really. You want to see it?”

Marvin nodded.

“Okay. Just watch. I think you’ll enjoy this.”

For a few seconds, nothing appeared to be happening. Marvin was holding the condom packet in his hand as he stood in front of the UPS guy on his couch, who was sitting on his couch staring back at him with a bright, beautiful, cock-hardening smile on his full lips.

Then Marvin noticed it. The man’s groin. Specifically, the man’s prick. He saw it swelling. He cold see the head plumping, visibly growing larger. The whole of what was contained behind his zipper was starting to manifest itself more fully, pushing insistently at its cloth cage.

As Marvin watched, his mouth dropped open slowly, and he forgot to blink. The other man’s cock continued to develop until his shorts were severely tented and a dark stain was spreading around the zipper’s silver teeth. The UPS driver was just sitting there, breathing slowly, his gaze locked on Marvin’s amazed face, as his cock swelled and lengthened inside his shorts.

After only a couple of minutes of this continual swollen growth, the zipper was starting to show signs of strain. The man’s cock was shoving itself at the opening, swelling ever larger, wanting release from its confines. The bulge in his groin was filling up with more prick than ever, and the material was stretched to its limits.

Then he heard it. The smallest ripping sound. A seam giving way. The smile on the man’s face grew slightly brighter and he tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving Marvin’s enthralled expression.

Another rip. Small, still. Frank pushed more growth into his cock. It eagerly bulged forward. The tear grew slightly. He was ripping his shorts apart using only his dick. His bulging, fat, hard as steel cock was tearing itself free of his shorts, little by little.

Another rip, and the zipper’s teeth started to give way. Marvin swallowed and licked his lips. He wanted to see this beast, He wanted to see it burst from its cage and witness the glory of it. He’d never seen anything so erotic in his life.

Another small rip and a flash of reddish pink skin shown through. The zipper refused to yield. The driver’s ever-growing cock swelled larger still. Another small tear, then another, and then a final rending of the brown fabric and his colossal cock spilled forth, having successfully ripped its way from his pants.

It was as glorious and beautiful as Marvin had imagined. The head was still cowled in a sheath of foreskin, and it glistened with precum. As he watched it emerge, the shaft seemed to swell and lengthen, as if its new freedom allowed it to realize its awesome potential all at once. The sheer size and girth of the shaft, thick as the bottle of beer in his hand, ripped the shorts apart and it throbbed and plumped and rose upwards, growing still, and now hardening into its ultimate erect perfection.

Frank fed his cock to grow fatter and longer, feeling the heat of it grow as it was engorged with blood. The veins pumped and throbbed, the foreskin retreated, and the plum of its head emerged glistening and shiny.

At last, Frank’s enormity achieved its designed majesty. Twelve inches tall, thicker than a man’s wrist, gleaming and throbbing.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked his audience. Marvin nodded mutely. “Me, too,” the UPS driver agreed. “Think that’ll fit me?” he asked. Marvin shook his head. “No? Let’s give it a try, anyway. Why don’t you come over here and put it on me. I want your hands on my cock.”

Marvin’s bottle of beer dropped to the carpet and spilled its foaming contents. Frank pushed his pelvis forward, causing his enormous erection to stand straight up, the eye drooling precum as it pointed at the ceiling. He could feel an enormous supply of cream in his balls. He put his hands to the waist of his shorts and ripped them fully open with ease. His pelvis and groin were forested with a thick bush of dark curls. His individual scent sprang forth from his exposed groin, and he ripped the legs open so his balls could swell with their cargo.

Marvin ripped the packet open with his teeth and pulled out the small rubber hat. It looked ludicrous next to the towering majesty of the erection throbbing hotly before his eyes. He’d never seen a cock so big, or so beautiful.

Marvin placed the condom over the tip of Frank’s dick and started to slowly unroll it down his shaft. The condom’s bulbous end seemed to grip onto the head tightly and Marvin doubted it could contain the other man’s bulk. Beyond his view of the giant erection, all Marvin could see was furry muscle. Muscle everywhere. The UPS driver sat on his couch, breathing with cool, easy inhalations. He smelled like sex. Marvin wondered if the A/C was failing. He felt so hot.

Everything was going swimmingly, Frank thought, as he watched his old friend sheathing his amazing prick. God, it felt good to have another man’s hands on his body. A thick flow of precum erupted up the fat inches of his cock and into the reservoir tip of the XXL condom. He groaned and closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying harder than ever to contain the beast that roared inside him. His cock swelled thicker, visibly bulging and lengthening in a single sudden spurt, and another flow of clear honey bubbled from the piss slit.

Marvin slowly unrolled the condom down the rock hard cock. It was so fucking hot in his grip, and he could feel it swell whenever the UPS guy delivered a load of precum. He’d never seen anything like this. It was like the man’s balls were in overdrive. Precum was erupting like an orgasm. It was flowing almost constantly, inflating the tip of the rubber with thick honey.

“Oh, fuck,” the UPS guy moaned, slowly. It was almost a growl, a passionate plea. Marvin felt a thrill of sexual pleasure move through him, as if the words themselves had some special power. He grabbed the huge prick in his left hand, unable to fully encompass it in his single grip, now, and used his right to unfurl the condom to its limit. Several inches of cock were left exposed, down to its furry root. The man’s balls, huge and hairy, were moving and throbbing like living things. Fat veins wound up his cock and, as he held it, Marvin could’ve sworn he felt it growing bigger still.

“Stroke me,” the man said. His eyes were on fire. He was looking at Marvin like his next meal, and he was a starving man.

Marvin did so, happily. The UPS man’s reaction was instantaneous. His cock swelled even larger. How that was possible, Mason didn’t question. It swelled in his grip, he could feel it growing, pushing his hand wider. He worshiped the huge manhood with reverent attention, slowly caressing its hot surface, grasping it in his hands, rubbing the mushroom cap’s flaring lip, the spongy head, the enticingly lickable dent running along the helmet’s underside.

It gushed happily, filling the rubber sheath with clear precum. Then the man sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut and the dick swelled bigger still. Marvin could feel the fat rush of cream erupting up the tall shaft and watched a flood of white cum mix into the clear pre. He shot once, twice, three times, four, five, on and on, filling the rubber’s reservoir like a water balloon.

Again and again, flood after flood, an endless tide of hot cream came from the spouting tip until the rubber was filled, but still he came. “Fuck,” he moaned, “oh, fuck, so good.”

Marvin kept stroking. The cock kept erupting. A pint of heavy hot cream filled the rubber sock, bigger and bigger, tighter and tighter, and suddenly it burst, showering its load over the two men, the couch, the carpet, the walls and the ceiling.

And still he came. The unsheathed cock was fountaining fat spurts of hot cream. Marvin’s face and arms were coated in warm wetness. He opened his mouth and applied it to the man’s incredible prick and swallowed in greedy gulps.

“Oh, fuck,” Frank said, realizing what had happened, and that now it was too late.

Marvin was already growing, starting on his path to The Brotherhood.

---

Rain was falling. It made Paris look romantic. The sky was the color of slate, and the avenue was empty of tourists, for once. Stuart scribbled in his Moleskin, drawing penciled pictures of the café’s interior and its sole other inhabitant.

The man was squeezed into a white ribbed tank top that was stretched to its limits. He had a bald head and a thick, muscular neck. He sat sprawled in a wrought iron chair near the entrance, half in and half out of the café, his long powerful legs extending onto the sidewalk. A small cup of espresso sat untouched before him, and his eyes were covered with a pair of mirrored Aviator sunglasses.

Stuart was attracted to him the minute he walked in. Stuart was a muscle fan, so there was that, but there was something more, something both familiar and oddly alien about him. Also, his appearance itself was weird. One moment the table was empty, the next the man was sitting there just as he was now, his long, powerful frame stretched along a line, one arm resting on the table, the other lying across his lap.

Stuart was a student on a yearlong European “study vacation,” though it had been more vacation than study, of late. His American dollars weren’t stretching nearly as far, thanks to some rather poor monetary decisions by the current U.S. administration, and his interest in art had waned along with his stipend. Mommy and daddy were quickly losing interest in financing his continued debauchery, not that it was his real Mommy or his real Daddy anymore, anyway. How many divorces had there been, and him tossed around like so much rubbish.

He sighed and drew a thick line representing the swelling bulge of muscle along the man’s upper arm. He would have been an excellent model, Stuart decided. His body was etched with powerful lines everywhere. How much fun would it be to sit before his naked body and make love to every inch of him with pen and ink?

Stuart looked up to study that arm again and discovered that the man had moved. The man had, in fact, moved toward his table and was now, this very moment, staring down at the drawing that Stuart had been slowly fussing with.

“Est-ce que c'est supposé être moi?” Stuart felt a chill run through him. The man was absurdly tall, and absurdly powerful. That white athletic shirt did absolutely nothing to hide his massive build. His voice was a deep, gruff burr, and he had a dark goatee and mustache surrounding a beautiful mouth.

“Oui, si elle n'est pas très bonne.” Stuart tried to give the man an apologetic smile.

“You are Americain?” His French accent and deep voice made the question eminently sexy.

Stuart decided to answer in French. “Oui, comment pouvez-vous dire?”

“Your accent is good, but is not great.” He was smiling as he pulled an adjacent chair around and spun it with a deft and confident elegance, sitting down at Stuart’s table, his legs spread open as he sat facing the back of his own chair. He folded his massive arms over the chair’s back and leaned forward, peering at Stuart’s open notebook. “Is not bad,” he said. “I think, though, my head is not so… comment dit-on ‘carré’?”

“’Square.’ Not so square.” Stuart looked down and he had to agree.

The other man laughed slightly and a hand was thrust into Stuart’s view. “I am called Francois.”

Now it was Stuart’s turn to laugh. Of course that would be his name. “Stuart,” he introduced, and he grabbed the wide paw. The man’s grip was almost painfully strong, though he seemed to realize this and softened his hold. The muscles of his arm twisted and flexed in a most agreeable manner, and he had a thick bush of shining black hair in his pit. Stuart felt both attracted and apprehensive. He was just so fucking huge!

“You are an artiste?” he asked, tilting his head in a most puppy-like fashion. He smiled into the word ‘artiste,’ as if he enjoyed saying it.

Stuart blushed and shook his head. “Not really.”

“May I look?” Francois’s hand moved toward the open notebook. Stuart nodded and lifted it into the man’s hands, watching him with curiosity and a growing sexual interest.

There was no denying the man’s beauty. It was a kind of pure masculine handsomeness. His face had powerful lines around the mouth, though it was otherwise smooth. His cranium was beautifully sculpted, elegant and real. He looked to be in his mid 20’s, maybe five years older than Stuart was himself, though he was possessed of a powerful self-confidence. And why wouldn’t he, built like that? The man looked like he could take on an army!

His hands, though strong, made delicate work of the notebook. After lifting his mirrored glasses to rest on his forehead, he turned the pages carefully and his dark, almost black eyes danced across them. The smile on his animated face grew and shrank in intensity as he moved through Stuart’s pencil drawings of Paris street scenes and gardens, and he lingered the longest on the pictures depicting the various handsome men that Stuart had captured with an admiring hand. Clearly, they shared an interest in a beautiful man.

He looked up as he handed the notebook back and said, “Vous êtes très bien!”

Stuart blushed again. Something about the man’s voice went straight to his crotch, and having the man pay him a compliment only made it worse. “Merci,” he said, tucking the notebook into his satchel, “Vous êtes trop aimable.”

“Oh, mais non!” he protested. His handsome face tilted and he added, “You have a very good eyes.”

“I think I miss the details.”

Francois raised his eyebrows into an arch and said. “Ah, no. My meaning is… you have good eyes. Very pretty.” He pointed to his own eyes and smiled. It made Stuart melt.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You will want to draw me?” Francois sat up and puffed out his chest. It was a wonder his shirt didn’t explode. He was truly a massive man, with wide shoulders and a barrel chest with two rounded, very distinct globes of muscle. His nipples poked tents against the white cotton of his tight T-shirt, and his arms bulged with an almost frightening amount of brawn. “I am posing!”

Stuart laughed. The dude was a ham. “I would love to draw you, Francois.”

“Excellent!” Francois relaxed his impressive collection of brawn and scooted his butt back on the seat, resting his chin on his arms across the back of the chair. His Aviators were perched on his gleaming shaven head and his dark eyes studied Stuart carefully. “I have seen you here before.”

Stuart’s brow furrowed. It was true, this was his favorite café, but he didn’t remember ever seeing Francois before. He would have remembered him. He was a remarkable looking man, and anyone that big was bound to stand out in Paris.

“Oui?”

Francois nodded emphatically. “You are always sitting here, drawing. The light is good, yes?” Stuart nodded. “The light is good,” Francois repeated, softly. “Do you know Henri?” That smile was back again. Gorgeous.

Stuart said, “A little.” Henri was the proprietor of the little café. A handsome man, and built as well. He was the prime reason Stuart frequented the café, just to watch Henri work. He was built like a dockworker, with a massive upper body and strong legs. Stuart had a few drawings of Henri’s face and body in his notebook, he was a favorite model. But hard to capture, because the man never seemed to stop working. “He’s very nice.”

Francois said, “Do you think? I will tell him!”

“You know him?”

“Very well,” he answered, and then he winked. “We are lovers.”

It was hardly shocking, and it wasn’t meant to be. Almost everyone Stuart met in Europe claimed to be bi. But a vision of the two muscular men naked together, tangled in each others’ strong arms, lips locked, cocks hard, flashed across Stuart’s mind and his cock jumped.

“He is very good,” Francois volunteered, “but we are not… exclusif?”

“Exclusive,” Stuart repeated.

“You?” Francois pursed his lips and allowed his dark gaze to scan Stuart’s body.

Stuart blushed again and shook his head. “No, no boyfriend.”

“Ah! I knew you liked mens. It is obvious from your drawings.” The huge man suddenly stood up and grabbed onto Stuart’s shoulder. “We go to your appartement. I will pose for you! Yes?”

“I’m not sure… I don’t think…”

“You are scared?” Suddenly the other man almost looked hurt.

“No, I don’t think that would work. I live… I’m in a very small place. In Le Marais.“ Francois stood over him looking for all the world like a wounded puppy. A giant, muscular, sexy as fuck wounded puppy. Stuart sighed and stood up. “All right, let’s go to my place.”

Now that he stood next to Francois, he realized just how huge he actually was. In fact, ‘huge’ didn’t even come close. His muscles had muscles. Yet his face, as handsome as it was, had this odd innocence and openness about it. Stuart felt that, for whatever reason, he could trust the man.

Francois laid his heavy arm across the smaller man’s shoulder and spun him toward the door. They walked out into the warm rain and started up the boulevard toward Le Marais.

It wasn’t a fine mist that fell from the sky, but it wasn’t a torrent, either. Still, it was enough wetness to turn Francois’s shirt transparent, so that from a distance, someone might have thought he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all. Stuart was feeling increasingly uncomfortable as they walked together through Parisian streets. The man was decidedly sexy, and his body was a wonder of muscular beauty.

He was a very animated and friendly sort, which contrasted with the utter physical sensuousness with which he moved. Did he not notice how sexy he was? And if that was true, it made him even sexier!

He asked Stuart about his favorite gardens and buildings, and where he had found such handsome men. He asked him if he liked Paris as much as Francois himself did. He asked him about his lovers, and if there was someone back home.

“I wish,” he answered. “I’m not very good at…” Stuart’s face showed his struggle to explain his lack of sexual activity. “I’m not sexy.”

Francois stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Stuart’s shoulders, spinning him around. Francois was a full head taller than the American in his grip, and probably twice as wide. “Vous êtes très sexy. Tu es magnifique.” He said it with such conviction that all Stuart could do was stare at his face. “Maybe you have not found your lover, yet, Stuart.” The way Francois said his name made Stuart feel like swooning into his arms. The look on the huge man’s kind face and in his gorgeous eyes was breathtaking.

There was a moment there, in the summer rain, on a Paris boulevard, when time seemed to stop. Stuart felt something strong passing between them. But he passed it off as imagination, or a dream, or a wish. Francois was looking into his eyes with an intensity that made Stuart feel weak and vulnerable. It was so strong that it scared him a little, and he broke the eye contact and gestured up the block. “We’re nearly there,” he said.

They reached Stuart’s apartment building and climbed the stairs to his tiny third floor flat. The stairs creaked menacingly under the weight of his muscular companion, and Francois literally had to turn sideways to fit his bulk into Stuart’s doorframe, but once inside he was smiling again and looking at everything among Stuart’s collection of ephemera.

“C'est beau!”

Stuart, after hanging up his jacket and setting his satchel down, turned around to see what Francois was considering so beautiful. What his eyes found was that the man, standing near the tall open window, was looking across the Paris skyline as the rain fell, making the city glow and glisten in the soft gray light. What Stuart found beautiful was the man himself, rendered in that same light, looking almost like a dream. He was posed in a relaxed stance, leaning against the sill, his strong hands at his side. The prominence of the bulge in his pants was almost absurdly large, as if his manhood was pushing for release. The material gathered around it with slim, hard folds.

Stuart felt himself grow suddenly very warm, even though the storm had chilled his little flat, at the site of Francois standing utterly, completely, wonderfully perfect at the wide open window, looking out across the square at the gray afternoon light filtering across Paris.

The huge, muscular man was an orchestrated symphony of perfect brawn. Stuart could hardly believe that such a collection of muscular perfection actually existed outside a comic book. Every muscle on the man’s enormous frame was a sonnet to the male body. He was incredibly beautiful. C’est beau, indeed. “Francois?”

“Oui?” The man turned his face, and then his entire body, toward Stuart.

“Do you want anything to drink? Something to eat before I sketch you?”

The other man’s smile made his hard sculpture of a face light up. “Non, merci. I would like it to take off my clothes, if that is possible. I am wet with rain.”

“I don’t think I have anything that would fit you.” Of course he didn’t. Stuart lacked Francois’s bulk and height by leagues.

“No problem,” the other man said, and he began slowly to strip the clinging shirt from his upper body. It moved as if it refused to surrender its hold on his muscles, dragging itself along the bulging inches as he revealed the glorious and amazing collection of brawn he had no doubt worked years on perfecting. He owned a light dusting of curls that clung to the heavy roundness of each peck and accentuated their separate glory. He easily tossed the discarded shirt into Stuart’s kitchen sink and set his fingers to the button fly of his tight jeans, and the swollen mass pressing urgently at its crotch.

He wore no underwear, and as each button was released, a glorious wealth of dark curls revealed itself. Stuart’s breath caught in his throat at the personal striptease he was being afforded, and Francois watched the smaller man’s reaction with interest.

As his magnificent and abundant collection of sexual equipment began to come into view, Francois reached his left paw into the crotch of his jeans to grab hold of his cock and balls and pull them forth, working them from their tight cage into the open air. The fat, uncut prick and heavy nut sack easily overwhelmed his huge grip. Then he stood there, naked from the waist up, his manhood arching out from his splayed jeans, and smiled.

Rather than look small in comparison to the rest of the man, it could more than compete for attention. He owned a huge, fat, long length of cock, arching proudly over a set of balls that were unusually large. Farm fresh eggs wished they looked like that. Stuart usually found an uncut cock kind of… ugly. Like it wasn’t quite done maturing, or it wasn’t all there. But Francois owned an uncut length of gorgeous, thick prick. His foreskin was ample enough to grip more than half of his thick helmet, but not so much that it resembled a thick turtleneck that overwhelmed it. It complimented the shape and size of his godlike cock, and it was, in a word, perfection.

“Wow.” Stuart looked into the other man’s dark gaze and said, “You’re naked.”

“Bien sûr! I am posing for you now. Is this not how you want me? Do you not like the view?” He grinned foolishly and brought his arms up, suddenly swelling his collection of muscles into stark, swollen perfection. “Ah, I see you do like me!” His gaze had fallen to Stuart’s own crotch, which was showing definite signs of life.

Stuart paled, then blushed. “You’re gorgeous, Francois. You’re easily the most beautiful man that I have ever seen.”

Francois nodded and lowered his arms. In the soft afternoon shadows, his skin took on a silvery glow and his eyes twinkled and flashed. “I am glad you are happy.” He set his hand to the waistband of his jeans and shoved them down his legs. They were amazing. Colossal. Every muscle was a swollen wedge of power, flexing and jostling for space under his bronzed skin. When he turned around to deposit the jeans in the sink as well, Stuart was gifted with a view of the most gorgeous bubble butt he’d ever seen, and certainly the most beautiful one he’d seen in all its naked glory.

Francois strode toward Stuart and, quite suddenly, surrounded the smaller man in his embrace and applied his lips to Stuart’s mouth. His beard and mustache tickled, and Stuart felt his thick, soft tongue as Francois pushed it easily inside his mouth.

A rush of sexual bliss erupted inside Stuart, with a passion so strong that his cock was instantly hard and shoving insistently against his underwear and jeans.

Francois moved his hand down to Stuart’s crotch and began to easily and eagerly massage his hard-on, squeezing his shaft and rubbing his head through the denim. A blazing rush of tingling sexually erupted under the huge man’s ministrations. Stuart had never been touched so expertly, and he felt he could already start cumming inside his shorts, so he extracted himself from the other man’s handling and gulped, finding it suddenly hard to breath.

His whole body was hot, flush with sexual heat. Francois was grinning, and his massive cock was showing signs of life. “I am sorry, but you are so beautiful, Stuart.” He snapped to attention and saluted the smaller man comically. “I am your slave. Where do you want me to be posing?” He winked and that gorgeous smile was back again.

Stuart tried to gather his wits about him and he said, “No, it’s all right. You kind of took me by surprise.” He tried to smile but so much blood had rushed into his cock he wondered if any of his other muscles would even work. “Why don’t you go back to the window. The light is perfect and you looked… your body….”

“Oui, Stuart. I am your slave.” Francois turned around, giving Stuart an expert view of his marvelously high and tight buttocks, and he stood again at the open window. “Like this?” he asked.

Stuart retrieved a larger notepad and a pencil, then he looked at the large man standing at the window in the filtered light. “Just relax, Francois. Like you were before.”

“I am relaxed,” he said.

“Not entirely,” Stuart replied, pointing toward the other man’s burgeoning hard on with the end of his pencil. The man’s mammoth appendage was visibly throbbing and swelling. The 10-inch shaft was arching forward over his balls, and the foreskin was retreating from the plumping head.

Francois looked down and grinned. It made him look mischievous and almost evil. “Mon Dieu, regardez ce que vous avez fait pour moi!” He reached down and easily and unashamedly tugged on his growing erection, playing with his foreskin and rubbing his thumb across the helmet before slowly stroking its massive shank, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. A low, softly whispered sigh escaped him, accompanied by an almost-silent but deeply powerful moan. It emerged from his massive chest and Stuart felt the power of the man’s voice once again zeroing in on his own crotch.

Francois looked up again as he continued to slowly, contentedly bring himself to orgasmic release, his cock continuing its inexorable climb toward erection, and he asked Stuart, “Do you want it to go down? Or do you want to go down?” He laughed at his awkward pun and then seemed to feel an intense shock of pleasure, because he sucked in a tight, hard breath and shut his eyes, tossing back his shaven head and bringing his overwhelming wealth of muscles into sharp relief.

Stuart was amazed and enthralled. So much man, so naked, so beautiful, so sexual, just standing here in his apartment in Paris. Francois lifted his palm to his mouth and set his tongue to the skin, slicking the surface with a shine of spit before applying it back to his raging hard-on. It was arching upward, now, and still growing. How long was it going to get? How big was he? Stuart started to push against his own hidden erection in his pants with the heel of his hand, watching the other man’s obvious pleasure mounting.

Francois was looking down at his own mammoth cock with a kind of reverence and worship when his eyes shifted toward Stuart. A naked, feral need shone in his dark gaze. His grip was moving with slow deliberation, using the wealth of loose skin covering the hard shaft to easily stroke the entirety of his massive meat. His shining red helmet, gleaming with a coating of precum, appeared and disappeared beneath its cowl of foreskin. It was evident to Stuart that the man was using him as an erotic tool, focusing his gaze on Stuart while his body was growing more powerfully charged with sexual energy with every stroke of his swelling cock.

Francois opened his sensual mouth slightly and moved his pink tongue across the thick expanse of his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth and rubbing the soft, moist flesh across the pure white. His chest, a massive set of muscular globes, slowly rose and fell as he breathed, and his free hand moved up his body to start playing with one of his thick, dark nipples. He never closed his eyes or took his gaze from Stuart’s face as he continued to so easily and openly pleasure himself at the open window, visible to anyone who happened to look up.

Stuart’s prick was in pain. It was hard as a rock but confined in his pants, pushing urgently against his underwear and trousers. The room felt hot and Stuart momentarily forgot where he was or what he was doing when he dropped his pencil and the sound as it struck the wooden floor woke him from his reverie and he bent to retrieve it, causing his cock to shift to a more manageable angle.

Francois smiled, and huffed out a silent laugh. He turned more fully toward Stuart and spread his legs apart, pointing his now fully erect and monstrously huge cock directly at Stuart. The soft light from the window rendered the bulges and cables of muscle that swelled from every inch in sharper contrast, and it lent his flesh a golden pink glow as if the man was made of copper. A drool of silver precum was flowing from the tip of his dick, and he used his thumb to spread the warmth over his helmet.

Francois never stopped stroking his cock as Stuart walked across the room. His eyes never left the other man’s, and his smile grew in intensity. His mouth quirked into a smile and he said, “Voulez-vous me sucer?” He removed his own grip from his cock, and it arched upward from between his legs. It was visibly throbbing and a long silver thread of precum drooled from the top. His low hangers surged and moved like they were alive. He was breathing slow and deep, the band of muscles over his belly expanding and contracting.

Stuart felt excited and scared at the sight. The man owned the biggest cock he’d ever seen, either in person or in picture. Porn stars wished they owned that prick, and it was all for him. He nodded and swallowed and licked his lips. He wanted it in his mouth, to taste its deeply masculine tang and lick that honey from its fount. To feel its warmth against his tongue and the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat.

He approached the giant of a man and sank to his knees, the slowly, steadily throbbing tool an inch from his face. He leaned against it and felt its heat and hardness on his cheek, beside his eye, extending along the side of his face. He lifted his hand and placed it on the fat shank and wrapped his fingers around its mass. It was hard as steel. He squeezed it experimentally and it seemed to take intense joy in the action, swelling against his grip.

He looked up and found Francois looking down at him. He was all muscle, a collection of mountains leading up to that beautiful face. His eyes were unfathomable, dark pits of warm chocolate. Stuart guided his lips to the plum of Francois’s cockhead and he moved them around its exterior, sticking his tongue under the tight foreskin, pushing it back from the helmet and over its flaring ridge. The earthy, salty taste of the man’s precum sank into Stuart’s senses like a tonic, and suddenly he was overwhelmed with the power of the man.

He sucked the head inside his mouth and tried to swallow him whole, all at once. Stuart fucking loved to suck cock. He was good at it, he knew, because he enjoyed it. He couldn’t get enough of it, even given the gift of the biggest cock on the planet, as far as he knew.

Was it a foot long? Longer even than that? 13 inches? 14? It didn’t matter, it was fucking enormous, fucking hot and fucking hard. He wanted the cannon to blast its load all over him, flooding his mouth and coating his face and bathing him in its white, sticky heat.

A kind of sexual delirium took over Stuart’s mind. The man’s cock was hard and hot and pumped salty deliciousness into his mouth. He looked up the muscled contours of the man’s perfection and drank in the sight of his gorgeous, haunting eyes looking down at him. Francois placed his huge hand behind Stuart’s head, lovingly, rapturously, and closed his eyes and let his head fall backward and slowly began to fuck Stuart’s face.

Stuart brought his hands up to grasp the thick shank of the huge prick and felt its heat in his grip. It almost seemed to pulse, and swell, and throb in his hands, a living thing with its own needs and desires, a swelling mass of masculine power delivering a steady flow of sex into his mouth. His tongue and throat tingled with some alien but altogether agreeable feeling of warm bliss, as if the man’s cock was delivering orgasmic pleasure directly to his senses through his mouth. He closed his eyes and sank into the sensation.

The feeling of ultimate sexual bliss washed over Stuart in a flood of wet warmth. Francois tasted like pure sex. Stuart wanted to swallow him whole. His body felt suddenly hard and light at the same time, like he was made up of metal and filled with helium. He opened his eyes as he swallowed the huge cock and looked up the muscled contours of the other man’s enormous muscular form. A gush of something sweet and salty filled his senses and Francois was smiling at him.

“Kiss me, Stuart,” he growled. “Stuart,” he said softly, “kiss me. I need a kiss.”

Stuart didn’t want to release him. He wanted to remain here, on his knees, sucking this cock forever. But there was evident need in Francois’s voice, and something in his eyes that made Stuart want to kiss him even more than suck him.

The man was huge, powerful, and overwhelmingly beautiful. Could he manage a kiss to satisfy such a man? Stuart fancied himself an excellent kisser, and valued a good kiss beyond almost anything for its passion and satisfaction. A good kiss could make him as hard as Francois, though not nearly as huge.

He moved his mouth off the throbbing length of meat and kissed the tip with a slight suck, pulling another gush of salty precum inside his mouth. He held it there, intending on allowing Francois to taste his own sex. He rose slowly to his feet, his gaze moving up the bulging muscles of the other man’s torso, over the egg carton abs and the huge overhanging pecs and the dusting of fur coating his beautiful flesh.

Stuart moved his hand behind Francois’s massive neck and the other man bent his head down to meet Stuart’s mouth with his own. A strong masculine scent surrounded Stuart as they came together, accompanied by a sensation of heat and a remarkably sexual rush like a shock of hot oil dripping along his skin. Francois moved his arms around Stuart’s body and turned to allow the other man closer contact. The heat and hardness of his erection pushed intently against Stuart’s smaller body like a further reminder of the other man’s strong sexual power.

Their lips met, tentatively at first. Francois possessed soft, warm, perfect lips. His kiss was tender and loving, then more insistent, with growing passion, until the two men were locked together in an embrace, their lips and tongues combining to bring both to a heightened sense of glorious sensuality.

The kiss lingered for minutes. It felt to Stuart as if he were melting. Francois’s body seemed to swell against him, like his muscles were swelling as large as his hard-on. Francois broke the kiss and sighed contentedly. He moved his mouth to Stuart’s ear and whispered, “Fuck me, Stuart. I want you inside of me. I want to feel you with me.”

“I can’t,” Stuart said. He felt intimidated and scared. He felt shy and embarrassed. Francois was so beautiful, so powerful, so sensual, so massive. Francois was perfection.

“Fuck me.” Francois moved his hand down to Stuart’s caged beast and squeezed against his hardness. “Fuck me,” he asked, pulling the other man’s smaller body into a tight, muscled embrace. His hand was deftly releasing Stuart’s belt, opening his pants, digging inside to caress his cock. “Fuck me.”

Francois was a volcano of suppressed sexual energy. An off-the-Richter Scale earthquake waiting to happen. Transform was pushing an insistent tide of power through his body and it wanted release.

He’d been targeting Stuart for three days. Henri wanted him, of course, because he was a beautiful youth, with an angel’s face and an ass to die for. But Francois set eyes on him first, and laid claim to him. He lingered and waited and bided his time, enjoying the feeling of anticipation of this moment, now, here, in the young man’s rooms.

It was everything he had hoped it would be. It was like a film, the seduction and the walk in the rain and the striptease. Wonderful. Perfect. Exactly as he had wished it would be.

But now he could no longer wait. His ass hungered for the man’s cock. His body trembled with its cargo. He was ready to explode.

“Fuck me,” he repeated, pulling Stuart’s pants down his legs and pausing to lick his stiff little prick. It was throbbing and red and hard as steel. He had a shaven ballsack and lovely, lithe legs coated in a soft golden fur. “Fuck me,” he said, sucking Stuart’s bulbous cock head inside his mouth for just a moment and sending a shivering hint of his full sexuality into the young man’s body. His majestic form rose to its full height and he locked smoldering dark eyes with Stuart, and his sensuous lips parted and he repeated, softly, “Fuck me.”

Francois took Stuart’s hand in his. Even his hand was large, but his palm felt warm and smooth and comforting. Francois pulled Stuart toward the bed and turned to kiss his mouth again, sending cascades of sexual bliss through Stuart’s body, before sitting on the edge of the bed and caressing Stuart’s hard-on with intimate reverence. He moved his mouth forward, his dark eyes staring into Stuart’s, and he sucked the cock into his warm mouth and applied a wet coat of spit, licking the tool everywhere until it was slick and shiny. “Fuck me,” he said gently, but insistently. He lay back on the bed and pulled his legs up and revealed the tight pink rosette of his asshole.

Stuart obeyed the man’s request. How could he refuse? He moved his hands to his rock-hard prick and managed to point it toward the target. The scent of Francois surrounded him in a fog of sexuality. He pressed the head of his cock to the puckered entry to heaven and pushed himself inside, and found himself suddenly feeling a deep tingling sensation of orgasmic bliss such as he’d never experienced before. A sense of incredibly intense erotic pulses grabbed onto his cock and echoed into his body, suffusing his sense in the overwhelming sexual power of the man beneath him.

Francois smiled. At last, they were connected. He welcomed Stuart inside and closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of being fucked. It felt so god, so right, so perfectly powerful. He sent throbbing pulses of Transform’s erotic power through his ass into his lover’s body. He pushed growth into Stuart’s cock. He wanted it to fill him up entirely, and he wanted to return the sensation of erotic bliss he was experiencing now.

Stuart felt it starting, but it didn’t feel entirely different from the feeling he always got fucking a tight, perfect, well-trained ass. His cock suddenly felt huge, almost unbelievably large, swollen with sex and seed.

“Here it come,” Francois said, softly. “Vous serez transformé.”

Stuart knew the meaning. ‘You will be transformed.’ It sounded more like a promise than a statement. He looked down and Francois was smiling again. His body seemed more impressive than ever, packed with muscular power, overwhelmed with masculine beauty, the very epitome of male perfection, almost as if he were glowing. His skin was sleek and golden, his pecs swelled enormously, his nipples looked like dark stains on the godlike chest, with fat caps pointing toward Stuart.

Something inside him snapped. Something tilted and broke apart and erupted. A flood of cream was suddenly erupting from his cock, uncontrolled and massive, pouring from him like a flood, swelling inside Francois’s gut. He felt hot, hot everywhere, like his flesh was on fire, like his very muscles were bursting through his skin, huge and powerful.

“Fuck me,” Francois instructed him. “Fuck me, harder!”

Stuart pushed himself in with renewed vigor, pistoning his hips and fucking Francois deep and hard. He felt like he was already cumming, like his cock was thrusting gallons of cream into Francois with every push, and his balls were shoving more out every second. His entire body shook with unrestrained sexual bliss, and every fiber and cell seemed to throb and tingle.

Francois was still rock hard, and he moved his arms back, pushing his upper body up onto his elbows. His belly erupted with an 8-pack of power and his cock pushed up his body, trailing a thick stream of precum across his golden skin. Impossibly, Stuart watched Francois lean up and bend his mouth closer and closer to his long, thick cock, stretching his wet tongue forward and licking his own tip. It was possibly the sexiest thing Stuart had ever seen.

Francois released more Transform into Stuart’s body. He allowed his cock to lengthen and swell, he pulled himself up and sucked his own prick inside his mouth and delivered a thick, hot gush of cream that he swallowed hungrily.

Stuart felt a sudden hard explosion of heat through his body. His cock was on fire. His ass was, too. He was made of sex and power and strength. He fucked Francois harder, watching the other man sucking his own cock as his ass was pounded deeper and deeper.

Francois looked up and their eyes met and Francois shoved an overload of Transform into Stuart’s body and watched his shirt ripping itself apart at the seams. He was growing steadily now, his body’s muscles were shifting and swelling and bulging under his skin. He seemed unaware that anything was happening. Francois gulped another fat flow of salty cream inside his throat and pushed another heavy dose of Transform into Stuart.

He grew larger, and larger. His biceps expanded. His chest inflated. His neck thickened on his widening shoulders. His cock went deeper and deeper into Francois’s ass. He was shooting thick ropes of hot cream and drowning in sexual bliss. His muscles burned with power as they grew fatter with hard meat. Veins wound across his body to feed his growth. Sweat poured from his skin as he tore through his clothing and fell headlong into his own dream, made real.

Stuart was becoming Transformed.

END

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