Transform: The Tutor
from The Chronicles of The Muscle Club
by AKA
“Fucking economy,” he thought, and also, “fucking college loans,” and then, almost immediately again, “fucking economy.”
Frank Martin trudged toward his newest pupil’s home in the trendy, upscale suburbs of a city that, by rights, shouldn’t have anything trendy or upscale. He was attending the local college because he couldn’t afford - even with his ‘fucking college loans’ - going to a ‘real college,’ and now his parent’s loans were drying up and making ends meet meant taking pupils from the local high schools and tutoring them in English.
He pulled out his iPhone to check the Google map app and see where he was via GPS versus wherever this new pupil was who was apparently too stupid to even pass high school English. Then he rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue and chastised himself silently for thinking that way already. After all, if it weren’t for dumb high school students, he wouldn’t be able to charge their over-protective parents to teach them what the dumb high school teachers weren’t.
“Okay,” he mumbled, “where the hell are you, Daniel Green?” He was only a block away and across the street from his goal, se he repositioned his backpack on his aching shoulder and trudged onward, dreading every minute of the hours to come trying to shove some semblance of knowledge into some privileged kid’s noggin.
Frank had many things to be frustrated and angry about. One was being stuck in this nowhere town for another two years when his friends had all gone off to better cities and better colleges and, god knows, better sex lives than he was having. Being named Francis by his parents wasn’t bad enough - everyone saw that in the student directory and he was at a disadvantage before he ever even looked at an email. Then there was his height, which there wasn’t much of, as well as his face, which wasn’t nearly as attractive as seemingly everyone else at college, or his ‘sexual preference,’ a term he hated almost as much as tutoring.
Sure, it was a preference. He preferred to get his ass fucked every now and again, and preferably more than once in a blue fucking moon. But that wasn’t happening, and then he was further blessed - if that was the world - with a quick mind and a quick wit that had gotten into more trouble than it was worth.
He twisted up his mouth and looked at the house of the Green family and sighed dramatically. At least it wasn’t a McMansion. New money, probably, or mortgaged to the hilt more like. Two-story colonial with fucking columns, yet! At least they could still afford to keep up with the gardener. The lawn and gardens were immaculate, and there was a brand new Mercedes parked in the circular driveway.
A Mercedes was okay. Two would be grotesque. And thank God there was no BMW to be seen. Any kid who owned a BMW was bound to be an asshole.
He walked up to the front doors and pushed the bell, hearing something like church chimes erupt somewhere inside the monstrosity, and then a dog was barking, but no one answered. He sighed and felt the full weight of his lot in life, subjected to the whims of people who didn’t keep appointment and he started knocking on the door and rang the bell again. The dog or dogs were still barking and then went quiet suddenly, though if he listened carefully he could still hear them and then a voice, deep and masculine, shouted “Shut up, already!” and they did indeed fall silent.
And then the handle was turning, and then Frank looked up and nearly had a heart attack.
“Hello,” the god said.
A god had answered the door. A shirtless, musclebound, deeply tanned, insanely handsome motherfucking god had answered the door. He was just standing there, smiling down on Frank, wearing a towel around his waist and nothing else. Not another goddam stitch of clothing anywhere, and why the fuck would he? He was a fucking god, wasn’t he? His body was dripping water on the cut marble floor. It drained along the funnels created by the depth of his muscular development and clung to him in shiny, metallic plates, making him look as if he had just been cast from some mold of male perfection out of pure muscle and bronze.
Sometimes nature just wasn’t fair, and sometimes the fates weren’t fair, either, and sometimes nature and fate gang up on you and slam their fist into your guts and laugh at you as you recoil in pain. Frank, all five-feet and eight-inches of him, 117 pounds soaking wet, was standing before a six-foot, three-inch powerhouse of bulging muscle, white teeth, sensuous lips, shining blue eyes, and even more muscle just for the hell of it. He stood holding the door open, one arm perched on the lucky thing, revealing an armpit of moist, lickable, blonde curls. His chest, both broad and thick and composed of two enormous plates of tectonic brawn, swelled and relaxed as he breathed. His skin was made of copper or some other shining liquid metal, and he had turquoise blue eyes and a soft shadow of whiskers winding across his chiseled, angular jaw.
“Hello,” Frank managed to say, “is your son home? I’m the new tutor.”
The god smiled even more broadly and offered his large paw. His scent drifted outward and bathed Frank in a sweet stink that reminded him of sex, raw, uncompromising, flat-out, butt-fucking sex. “Oh,” he said in a voice both deep and powerful, “I’m Danny. My dad’s not home. C’mon in! You want a drink or something?”
The words sounded like they were coming from the god’s mouth, but they weren’t making any sense at all. Danny? 17-year-old Danny? Daniel Green? “Oh,” was what Frank said, though, and then he took the god’s hand and shook it. The god’s grip was firm, powerful, manly, and the muscles that lined his arm in awesome perfection danced for Frank, twisting and flexing and bulging in beautiful harmony.
Danny Green held the door wider and Frank went inside. The house felt warm, at first, and then he realized with both trepidation and attraction that the feeling of warmth was coming directly from Daniel Green’s body. He was like some small sun, shining with perfect beauty, smelling like sex and spreading warmth around him. He shut the door and they both stood there for a heartbeat until Danny said, “Sooooo… drink?”
“Sure,” Frank answered. “Um, a Coke, I guess.”
“Coke it is,” Danny answered, and then he moved past Frank in a fog of sex and warmth and near nudity and moved from the foyer into the house, heading for the kitchen. Frank tried not to look at his ass, but it was unavoidable because that towel was decidedly too small to adequately encompass such a high, round, amazing ass. It was tucked loosely on his trim waist and his butt was plumping backwards like the proverbial bubble. The kid’s back was a marvel of muscular development. Fuck, he must be hitting the weights every fucking day to have a body like that. It was beyond intimidating, it was downright unfair.
“You up at the JC?”
“Yeah,” Frank answered, forgetting to feel ashamed about attending the city’s junior college instead of a ‘real’ one, with his eyes glued on that fantastic receding butt, “but I plan on attending state in another year.”
The god twisted around and that boner-inducing smile was there again and he said, “Yeah, kind of expensive, huh?”
And the boner was gone. Just like that. Asshole, making sure they both knew who was really in charge here. Like he had to press that button, too, the “I’m rich and you’re not” thing. Asshole.
Ass.
Fuck, that is a fine ass.
“What?”
“I just said thanks for doing this,” the god repeated. “I’m not dumb or anything, but I have a hard time concentrating.”
“A.D.D.?”
The god chuckled low. “Not exactly. There are… a lot of distractions at school. Muscle Club, y’know.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Muscle Club? Was that his gym? Or more likely some meathead asshole athletes-only elitist shit that of course this guy would belong to. Money, looks, that body…
The god opened the fridge and bent down to look inside. “Got Coke, Sprite, some orange juice and… there’s a couple of beers in here, if you want one.” His eyes rose over the refrigerator door curiously, one of his fine, dark brows arched.
“Just Coke is fine,” Frank said, slowly recovering his dignity. Then the god rose fully into his sight once more as the door closed and there it all was again. The tanned skin, the huge chest, the fucking six-pack abs, the treasure trail erupting from his little winking navel, the low-slung towel about to come loose and, jesus god, the hunk was packing some major cockmeat, too! Jesus, nature and the fates were now kicking Frank on the floor and about to douse him in gasoline.
He took the cold bottle and twisted the cap off, sucking back a swallow of suds and sugar and then said, “Do you want to do it down here?”
The god’s brow furrowed and he said, “I haven’t done it in the kitchen yet,” and he smiled.
“You haven’t studied at the kitchen table?”
“Oh, studied! I thought you meant…”
“Thought I meant what?”
“Nothing,” he answered, but his smile was beautiful and now it grew some teeth.
“What about outside?”
“Um, probably not a good idea. Got some friends over using the pool and they’re out there… screwing around. Things tend to get… messy.”
“Quiet friends,” Frank observed, not hearing the expected whoops and splashes and general rough-housing that accompanies a group of teenagers at a pool.
“Yeah, well, not always, but they’re probably pretty… um… what’s the word?” The god’s brow wrinkled in a most attractive manner and his head tilted, allowing his damp golden locks to fall across his shoulder.
Frank shrugged. “Concentrated?”
The god’s mouth quirked. then he pushed a soft laugh from his elegant and handsome nose and nodded. “Yeah, that fits. In more ways than one.”
Frank looked around the god to scan the backyard, but all he could see was a broad, bright patio and a couple of lounge chairs and a table with an umbrella stuck in it. “It’s probably too bright out there, anyway.”
“Too bright for what?”
“To see the laptop screen. I have one of those new Macbooks with the shiny screen and it makes the…”
“Cool! Can I see it?”
“Um, why don’t you put something on besides a towel and we can get started here.”
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry. I forgot I wasn’t wearing…. shit, sorry about that. One sec.”
Then the god was untying the towel from around his waist and pulling it off his perfect godlike body and, naked now, opened the sliding glass door and placed the towel on one of the lounges to dry. Then he turned to his left and shouted, “Gotta get some schoolin’ dudes. I’m sure you can keep yourselves amused for an hour or so?”
Frank’s eyes bugged from his head. Danny looked nothing short of perfect out there in the sun, as if he had been cast from sunlight itself. He was a god of the beach, with his blonde mane floating in the breeze and the sunlight pouring across his deeply tanned body.
Everything bulged. Everything flexed. Muscle everywhere. And now that he was unveiled in his perfection, it was plain to see that he owned a massive shank of cockflesh that arched several inches forward, proudly arching over a pair of fat low hangers. He turned back towards the kitchen with a smile on his handsome face as he slowly shook his head, and re-entered the house saying, “Those fuckers kill me. You should see what…. something wrong, Frank?”
“What?”
“Is something wrong? You look shocked.”
“I look shocked.”
The god moved toward him and pulled a chair from the kitchen table. The heat pouring from his naked body was even more palpable, along with a fresh, clean, attractive scent that had hints of cedar and vanilla and leather all mixed inside the distinct tang of sweat and the delicious enticement of ass. “Have a seat, dude. before you fall over.”
The god gently took Frank’s shoulder and guided him to a landing. Frank sat down and was face to cock with Danny’s most amazing asset, the thickness of it magnified, its plump uncut helmet dangling fat and lickable only inches from his lips. “Have a drink,” the god advised. “I’ll only be a second.”
Then he turned, the beach god, offering his new supplicant a worshipful view of his dimpled ass before he disappeared, his heavy tread leading upstairs to heaven, no doubt.
“Fuck,” Frank said very softly, slightly dazed and wondering how the hell he was going to be able to concentrate on anything after that. The house was quiet, now, and with the sliding door still standing open, the sound of soft moans, deep grunts and undecipherable murmurs were floating into the kitchen from the pool area. It sounded exactly as if Danny had left the TV on outside, and he had been watching Trunks or some other Palm Springs gay pool porn with the sound turned down.
Frank lowered his head and listened intently for a minute and had just about summoned up the courage to get up and look outside when Danny’s heavy treads returned and the blonde god, now dry and clothed in a pair of sky blue nylon running shorts, almost the same shade as his eyes, went to the door and closed it. He was holding a white T-shirt in his hand and he started to pull it over his torso as he walked into the kitchen, getting a glass and filling it from the tap before turning around, now fully clothed, and smiling silently at Frank.
Frank said, “Is this okay?” as he unzipped his backpack and started extracting his English books and laptop.
“Okay?” Danny asked.
“To do it in here?”
“Oh, sure. Um, we might have a couple of visits from my friends, just so you know. They’re real curious about things and will probably want to see…. to see what’s going on. It might be distracting.”
“I can go outside and introduce myself, if that would help.”
“No, I think that would probably be even more of a distraction.” He smiled. “Let’s just get started and see what happens.”
“All right. Since this is our first session, I wanted to kind of get an idea about where you feel you’re having problems, or what you need more concentration on.”
“In English?”
“Yes.” Frank opened up his laptop and pushed the power button, waiting for the Mac to boot up. The familiar start-up chime sounded and suddenly the looming presence of Danny was behind him, leaning in to see his computer. The odd and attractive cologne he wore grew strong in Frank’s nostrils, and seemed determined to wind itself around the pleasure centers of his brain. It was an intoxicating and very effective scent. “Can I ask… what is that?”
Danny looked at his face. They were close enough to kiss. “What is what?”
“That cologne you’re wearing.”
“Oh,” he answered, watching the screen again, “I’m not wearing cologne.”
“Is it soap?”
The god shrugged, but didn’t answer. “That is one sexy piece of hardware,” Danny observed. He reached forward and moved two fingers along the brushed aluminum surface. “Pricy?”
Frank said, “It’s my one vice.”
Danny looked at him again and that smile was back. “Only one vice? You should get out more, bro.”
Fuck, he was so gorgeous. His voice went right through Frank to his cock. It was deep and masculine and powerful. And that fucking smell was turning him on in a major way. “Probably,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you… why don’t you sit down and we’ll get started.”
“Don’t want me to see your password, huh? Afraid I’ll find all your porn?”
Frank felt the heat of blush wash over his face and make his whole body warm. But his embarrassment also made his cock deflate, which was better than having it bust its way through his jeans, which was becoming a definite possibility if Danny insisted on doing the entire session poised over his shoulder. “I don’t have any porn,” he said, but there was a waver in his voice.
“C’mon, dude, everyone has porn. If you have a computer, you have porn,” Danny proclaimed as he stood up. towering majestically above Frank’s seated form. “If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”
It was hard to ignore the fat bulge in Danny’s blue nylon track shorts, nor the obvious intimation in his statement. “I don’t have any,” Frank repeated, but his mind was flashing on all the muscle, cock, fur, and full-color heavy-grunting ass penetration and blowjob action that was hidden on his hard drive.
“Okay, okay,” Danny said, moving his fine ass into the seat next to Frank. “I’m only joking, dude. No worries.”
“So….” Frank was having trouble concentrating. What was he going to do? All he could think about was porn. Lots of porn. Naked bodies, bulging muscle, thick cocks.
“So?” Danny echoed, resting his chin in his hand. His bicep swelled like a melon under his shirt sleeve.
Frank looked over at the face of the god. It was all perfect angles and open curiosity. Danny’s eyes were clear and open, beautifully blue on his darkly tanned features. The soft coat of whiskers along his chin and cheeks looked like flecks of gold applied by some Renaissance artist. He had a thick, powerful neck and wide, wide shoulders. The muscles of his upper back bulged thickly, like pipes buried under his flesh delivering massive pumps of masculine power across his body. “Sorry,” he said finally, “I just need to get some information down about you for your file.”
“I have a file?” he asked, moving slightly closer and looking at Frank’s screen.
“Every…” Jesus, he smelled good. “Every pupil has a file, so I can chart your progress and find the areas that need work.”
“Makes sense,” he answered. “What do you need to know?”
What’s your cock size? How much do you weigh? You a top or a bottom? You like to kiss? You like to suck? You like to fuck? “Is there a certain area of English where you’re having more trouble?”
“Writing I guess,” he answered. “Like, all the grammar shit and making shit up and all that? I’m terrible at that.”
“Grammar shit,” Frank recorded dutifully.
“Well, don’t write it like that!”
It was Frank’s turn to smile. “I’m only joking, dude,” he echoed. “No worries.”
They both laughed. Then there was another noise in the room and the sliding door opened and a second god was standing there, dripping wet, gloriously naked and sporting an enormous and impressive piece of hanger steak between his legs.
“Fuck!” Danny said as he turned, “You’re leaking all over the fucking floor, dude! There’s a fucking towel right there!”
“Where?” he responded. He was at least six and a half feet tall. His shoulders filled the doorframe. His chest was massive, and each hemisphere was capped with a chocolate kiss nipple. He owned not just a six-pack, but an eight-pack that marched in perfect formation down his abdomen. And the muscles along his belly seemed designed - in fact everything seemed designed - to point the eye directly to his long, thick, luscious, uncut prick hanging at least nine inches down between his thickly muscled thighs.
He was dripping water everywhere off his mammoth muscular form. He had golden-brown eyes topped with a heavy, dark brow. When he turned to look where Danny pointed, out toward the lounge chair, he presented his perfect ass like a gift. Unlike Danny’s sun-kissed flesh, his skin was naturally dark, and he looked Latino or Hispanic. He was almost preternaturally attractive, and his cock was beautiful.
Frank was staring at the other young man as he reached down and grabbed the towel, then he was mopping his form without covering himself at all, justifiably proud and evidently unashamed of the wagging shank of sex meat hanging over a pair of fat low hangers.
He ran the towel over his huge frame, rubbing and wiping the water from every muscle-packed inch of his unbelievably huge body, dropped the towel back on the lounge, and then walked back toward the open glass door, striding forward like a colossus emerging from the sea, his incredible cock as thick, long and massive as ever.
He passed through the doorway - he actually had to turn sideways a bit to fit through! - and went into the kitchen, opening a cupboard and extracting two glasses. Frank watched the movement of his ass and his legs and the massive muscular development across his wide back shift and flex as he moved. The he filled the glasses with water and turned around, explaining, “Carl and me wanted some water.”
“Right,” Danny said, nodding. “You came in here to check out Frank.”
Frank felt the surging heat of a blush again at the mention of his name, and he realized he was staring lustfully at the towering giant’s cock. “No I didn’t, I was…”
Danny interrupted him. “Frank, this is Raul. Raul, Frank. And that is Raul’s Beast, as you can see.”
He could see. It was almost difficult to concentrate on anything else, because the Beast was hanging fat, firm, lush and beautiful between Raul’s legs. It was thick, it was long, it was slick and shiny and perfectly formed. It was, easily, one of the most beautiful and certainly the most impressive cocks that Frank had ever seen.
“Hey,” Raul said easily, setting the glasses down and leaning forward to offer his hand. “Great to meet you, Frank,” he said.
“Hey,” Frank responded. “It’s ‘Carl and I’.” A new, fresh smell assailed Frank’s nostrils as the other young man approached. Not vanilla and cedar, but this time more like coffee and mulch or fresh earth mixed with ass and ball musk.
Raul’s eyebrow arched and he said, “Huh?”
Frank responded. “‘Carl and I wanted some water.’ Not ‘Carl and me.’ If you drop ‘Carl’ and say it, you’ll hear that it makes sense saying ‘I wanted some water’ rather than ‘me wanted some water’.”
“Fuck,” Raul responded. “He is good.” It was hard for Frank to ignore the fact that Raul was now resting one of his hands on his fat prick. “I might need to make room for him in my busy schedule. Maybe if I learned to talk right, I could get into Billy’s pants like Carl.”
“Doubtful,” Danny answered.
“You dudes gonna be long? Speaking of Carl, he’s getting kind of anxious out there.”
“I’m sure you guys can find something to keep him occupied for an hour. Frank and I have to get some stuff done.”
A beautiful smile wound across Raul’s full lips and look came into his gaze that was filthy and inviting. “I bet,” he said, huskily. He was actually now rubbing his forefinger across the tip of his dick, gripping the shaft like a beer bottle.
Suddenly, another young man appeared at the kitchen door, standing behind the glass on the patio, his body bathed in sunlight. Like Raul, he was completely naked. He had a smile on his face and his enormous and deeply muscled form, alabaster white from head to toe, was accented with yet another impressive and inhumanly huge prick, this one erect and rising at least a foot high. He knocked gently at the window and had a puppydog expression on his face. His head was covered with a tight buzzcut of soft peachfuzz and it extended down his face in his sideburns and the beginnings of a beard. He had, Frank thought, enormously large nipples mounted on his two thick globes of pectoral development.
“Okay, you’ve seen him. You can go outside and report to the others, now.”
“What?”
“Get your ass outside and attend to Carl before that thing goes off and shoots cum all over the fucking kitchen, Raul!”
Danny was out of his chair and physically pushing the enormous Latino beauty out the door. “Nice to meet you, Frank!” he called as he was physically ejected. Then he was jogging out of sight with his companion with their pecs bouncing and their cocks wagging, laughing as they disappeared.
“Sorry about that,” Danny said, sitting down again.
“Who was that?”
“Raul,” Danny said again, “and his beast. I just had to get him out of here before something happened. Oh, and the other guy was Carl. Hopefully that will be the end of the visits - unless the other guys want to see you.”
“Oh,” Frank answered, though he still felt a bit as if he was dreaming. “Are all your friends…?”
“What?”
“Big?”
Danny smiled. So fucking handsome. “Big?”
“I mean… that was…”
“Weird?”
He wanted to say ‘fucking sexy,’ but instead he answered, “Unusual.”
Danny just shrugged. “We do tend to the bigger end of the scale, I must admit.” He looked at his own arm and bent it, watching the muscle bulge, and every fiber swell visibly under his golden skin. The bicep grew fatter and fatter and then the head split into two distinct lobes and continued to grow. It rose so high that it nearly kissed his knuckles before he relaxed again. It managed to shrink a bit, but his arm still looked unusually huge. “What else did you want to know?”
“What?”
Danny nodded at the softly glowing laptop screen. “For your records. Besides how big I am.” He laughed slightly.
“Oh, sorry.”
“No problem. Like I said, being easily distracting is one of my problems.”
“Distracted.”
“I’m not distracting?”
“Well,” Frank admitted, “that, too.”
“Listen, Frank, can you pardon me for a second? I just want to… check on my friends. They can easily get into mischief if they’re not careful and my dad will tan my hide if anything else in the backyard gets broken.”
“Sure, no problem,” Frank answered.
Danny rose up to his gargantuan height. “It should just take a minute or two. Be right back.” Then he opened the sliding door as he slipped his thumb into the waistband of his shorts and began shoving them off his hips before jogging off, disappearing just as his friends had done. He left the door open behind him and the slightly pornographic sounds of groaning, moaning and grunting returned. What the hell were they doing out there, wrestling?
Frank sat at the kitchen table staring at the open door and trying very hard to curtail his curiosity and stay seated. The sounds from outside were very inviting, and he could here the occasional curse word or exhortation drift in to him, always in the deeply erotic and masculine tone of any of the three naked young men he’d so far seen. The sun was very bright outside, and cool breezes found their way inside the kitchen, scented with the same or variations on the sexy funky smell that seemed to permeate everything in the house.
He swallowed and turned his attention to the screen of his laptop. The form was still mostly empty, and all he knew so far was that Daniel attended a local public high school and one of his teachers had recommended Frank to him for some “additional help.”
Danny’s “a minute or two” dragged on into five, and then ten minutes with no sign of his return. The dogs were barking again somewhere in the house and the winds drifting inside were becoming almost saturated with the smell of what Frank was beginning to recognize as the smell of men having raw butt sex with other men. It was rank and sweet and dirty and delicious, and the smell alone made his cock twitch and throb in his slim jeans. So much so, that he was thinking he’d have to go into the bathroom and relieve himself before his pupil returned and noted the huge hard-on bulging in his crotch.
Standing up, he thought first about going outside to ask Danny where the restroom was, with a desire to show that gorgeous man and his friends exactly what he had hidden in his drawers, but the idea of Raul’s Beast and its overwhelming size, girth and beauty had him think twice. He decided to go searching on his own.
It was a large house. The ground floor consisted of several large rooms for various purposes, and the foyer opened into a grand staircase leading to the upper floors. His cock had calmed considerably until he again heard the familiar sounds from the backyard coming from one of the second-floor bedrooms and he entered to investigate.
It looked like a guest room, but perhaps all the bedrooms were made up by a staff and looked like they hadn’t even been used. The bed was covered in sumptuous white linens and several large, fluffy pillows. The floor was covered in cream-colored carpeting and the windows had matching curtains. The curtains moved before one window and it was clear that it was open, and it was from there that the sounds could be heard most clearly.
Frank approached the curtains and the sounds grew intense. It was difficult to tell, but he thought he could pick out four or five different voices. It was likely there were more than that outside, owing to the amount of grunting, groaning, moaning and general sounds of pleasure rising up from the backyard to Frank’s anxious ears. His cock re-engaged immediately, because the scent was back and now even stronger in this room, evidently located adjacent to or directly above the action.
He heard Danny’s voice distinctly. He wasn’t saying much, only the occasional “oh, yeah,” or “fuck, yeah,” or “oh, fuck.” Generally some combination of the three words. He definitely deserved some help with his vocabulary.
Frank stood silent and still for a moment, allowing the scents and sounds to soak into his senses before curiosity and horniness got the better of him, and he reached out and tentatively moved one curtain aside.
Giant muscular men were outside on the lawn, fucking. Broad backs yards wide overwhelmed with bulging masses of brawn were bent over perfect, muscular asses and pushing their massive hard-ons inside. Huge men with fantastic, oversized chests coated in plush carpets of fur lay on their backs with their legs in the air, pointing their sweet, wet, tight holes at other men with fat biceps and thick horseshoe triceps holding their ankles while their narrow hips pistoned in and out, back and forth, fucking deep and hard and true.
Pure muscle, fully naked, everywhere Frank looked. Blonde giants with alabaster skin and fat pink nipples. Dark-skinned African gods with amazing butts and long, powerful necks. The Latin stud - Raul - was there, and he was eight or nine feet high. When he turned, his perfect and beautiful cock had twinned itself, and now two of them, of equal size and appearance, both hard and thick and dripping, arched up toward his pecs drooling thick strands of clear honey. There was Carl, his head like a fuzzy peach, engaged in a three-way with two more massive muscular miracles, fucking and being fucked in equal measure, a look of absolute ecstasy on his handsome face.
At least a dozen of these men, each equally as huge, muscular, handsome and well-endowed as the next, were spread out across Danny’s backyard, which backed up into a copse of trees and stretched out for a hundred yards, at least. The pool, to the right of the action, was entirely empty as the men engaged in various forms of sexual activity, from rough to tender, in duos, trios, foursomes and more-somes, kissing, licking, sucking, and fucking each other into some nearly religious ecstasy of pure sexual bliss.
It was all beyond belief, and more than Frank could handle. As he stood there, watching, listening and smelling these men and their interactions, his cock grew incredibly hard and very uncomfortable cooped up inside his slim fitting jeans. His eyes couldn’t soak it all in, this scene of uncompromising, naked, pure, raw and utterly free sex between the most handsome, perfect, huge and powerful men he’d ever seen. His senses were drenched in the powerful pheromonal scents these men were sending out in thick invisible clouds, thick enough to taste, and it drove straight to his libido. They were making feral sounds, mouthing filthy words and entreaties, telling their partners what they wanted done, and what they were going to do, and releasing deep, powerful sounds of pure pleasure from their broad, muscular chests.
His fingers fumbled to undo the snap and zipper on his jeans. He pulled his fly wide and pushed his underwear down and his cock sprang up, red and shiny and throbbing hotly. He licked his palm and spit against his flesh and set his hand to his hard-on, slowly stroking himself, watching the action below, zeroing in on one set of men and then watching something or someone else who caught his eye in the orgy of pleasure and power on the deep green grass under the bright sunlight.
His mouth was dry and his whole body felt hot. His cock pulsed a thick gob of precum into his hand and he shuddered and closed his eyes and moaned softly. He pulled a heavy breath into his lungs through his nostrils and it was heavily scented by the sensation and power of sex. A throbbing sensation of heat erupted in his chest and spread outward, as if the very air could make him hornier. He looked down at his prick and pulled his balls out of his basket and pushed his pants and underwear off his ass, wanting to be as naked and free as the men below on the grass.
That was when he felt a hand on his butt flesh. A large, smooth, warm hand that cupped his ass and squeezed him, making his cock spit another flow of pre out its eye. “Enjoying yourself?” the hand’s owner asked. Frank could feel his looming presence behind him, feel his heat and size, and the power of his voice rumbled through his body like a drumbeat. “Yes,” the voice said into his right ear, almost whispering it, “I can see that you are.”
Another hand rested now on his other butt cheek, and the hands began to knead and grip his ass tightly, wonderfully, perfectly. He licked his lips and allowed his head to sink backwards against his unseen partner. The man’s body was huge and hard, a series of bulging masses of brawn as thick and hard as boulders. He could smell the man, too, now much stronger than the assemblage outside. And he moaned as the man moved a hand off his ass and under his shirt, caressing his flesh before finding a nipple and plucking it playfully. Frank shook with delight and groaned.
“That’s nice, isn’t it, Frank?” the voice asked. Frank nodded, still stroking his hard-on. “What about this?”
The hand on Frank’s butt moved into his crack, the fingers sliding down toward his hole. One digit started to rub his pucker insistently, pressing, pushing, rubbing, then pushing again. Then two fingers. Two talented, capable fingers were gently but insistently gaining entrance to his asshole. God, it felt amazing. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Yes?” the voice echoed. “Good. That’s good, Frank.” Lips were kissing his neck. Teeth on his earlobe. A tongue pushing into his ear canal, the loud slurping, slick noises driving him crazy. The fingers pushed against his hole. The hand caressed his belly and chest, and teased his nipple, pinching, rubbing, encircling and twisting it.
Frank could feel himself growing closer to orgasm. The tingling sensation of pure pleasure was winding itself around his shaft and infusing his balls. His cock trembled and throbbed and he took his hand away, unwilling to end the ecstasy too soon.
The other man, the huge man behind him, moved his hand down Frank’s belly, the tender, thick fingers scrubbing through his bush of pubic fur and grabbed onto his cock hard, and suddenly, and squeezed. The fingers at his asshole pushed inside. Frank rose to his tiptoes and groaned deeply. “Yes, Frank,” the deep, masculine voice whispered in his ear. More kisses on his neck. More sucking and nibbling on his earlobe. “Hold it inside, my friend. Don’t shoot your load already - you haven’t even seen me, yet.”
“Who…?”
“You met my son, Danny, I believe. And a couple of his friends.”
“You’re…”
“Danny’s father,” the voice answered. “Please call me Charles.” The large hand squeezed Frank’s prick. The fingers dug against his hot, tight hole. “Nice to meet you, too.” The hand pulled from his cock. The fingers withdrew from his butthole. “Turn around, Frank,” Mr. Green said, “and let’s get better acquainted.”
Frank felt slightly ridiculous as he turned around, his pants fallen to his ankles, his shirt hanging loosely from his narrow shoulders, but intimidation and excitement overtook all other feelings once he finally saw the man who had been so gently but insistently pleasuring him.
Mr. Green was at least seven feet high, and if his son looked like a junior bodybuilding champion, the father was definitely a trophy winner from the major leagues.
Extremely naked, Mr. Green stood dripping on the fine carpet, silvery trails of water draining from his skin like tributaries on a mountain range, winding through the deep paths between all the swollen glory of his muscles. And at the center of all that mass was perhaps the largest piece of meat on his entire body, a cock arching forward proudly and hanging ten or twelve inches between his muscle-packed thighs.
His arms were hanging loosely at his sides, the veiny muscles almost visibly throbbing with strength, almost too thick to be contained along his limbs, and pushing against each other for space. His chest was massive, made up of separate plates of brawn that folded into each other using an inches-deep cleft. Across its expanse, a dark forest of damp curls were painted across his deeply tanned skin.
He was coated in a shining slick of sweat that highlighted the ungodly definition of his muscular form. Or maybe it was water, and not sweat, that made the fur that coated him stick to his slick skin, because he was furry everywhere, but particularly on his belly, chest, forearms and legs. A massive bush of pubic hair erupted from the top of his drooping prick and fat ballsack, and he had the look and smell of a wild animal.
But even with all the overwhelming muscular development that bulged from every inch of his body and that fat, thick, long cock drooping heavily before him like an elephant’s trunk, it was the man’s face that truly made Frank’s heart flip in his chest and his whole body flush with desire.
He looked not much older than his son, though possibly the room’s pale light helped mask any lines that creased his visage. His hair was shorn close to his scalp, dark as night, and he wore a devilishly trimmed mustache and goatee around his full lips. His eyes were dark green, like emeralds cut from a night sky, reflecting the dim light of the room with bright specks of silver. Two thick brows rested above his dark gaze, and he had a smooth, prominent brow that created a very defined widow’s peak at the center of his forehead.
He smiled then, bringing creases to his cheeks and a dimple to his chin - a “butt chin” was what Frank called that feature, for it indeed did look as if the man had a small, perfectly formed ass below his bottom lip with a deep cleft and round cheeks. All in all, he had a look that screamed “man” in all its meanings, from the masculine set of his jaw and brow to the fur that coated his cheat and belly to the massive shank of sexmeat between his legs. “Hello,” he said softly.
He was beyond masculine. He was hyper-masculine. The muscle, the size, the cock, the fur, the way he stood there, half-poised to attack, his hands held in loose fists, his chest proudly jutting forward, his cock as plump and long and thick as a tree branch, his chin high and his gaze unwavering and intense. He was breathing slowly, making the muscles that gripped his abdomen in an egg carton of power swell and recede. He had dark nipples that were almost lost in all that hair, and his teeth, when he smiled, shone like stars in the dark curtain of night.
“I was taking a shower,” he explained. “I’m sorry to have interrupted you.”
Frank blushed at the mention of his actions. “I must apologize,” he said, “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You don’t?” Charles asked. “I would have thought it was perfectly clear what came over you. Danny and his friends are outside engaged in some rather creative and energetic sexual congress. What man wouldn’t be stirred to action?”
“Still, it’s unseemly for me to be…”
Mr. Green raised his hand and waved Frank’s comments off. “No need for apologies, Frank.” He stepped forward and raised his arm, pushing the curtain aside again and looked down into the backyard. “It wasn’t very polite of Dan to leave you alone, like that.” He looked down into Frank’s face. “I assume he did not offer you the tour of our home?” Frank shook his head. The scent of the man, even so soon after showering, was overpoweringly masculine and sexy. It seemed to pour from under his arm, from the wet, warm, deep pit that Frank suddenly wanted to push his face into and just breathe.
“Of course not,” he said, dropping the curtain. “Manners were never his strong suit, otherwise I would’ve expected to meet you out there with the others. I suppose he never invited you to the orgy, either.” Frank blinked, wanting to express something else apologetic but Mr. Green said, “Well, perhaps we can find something else to occupy you while you’re awaiting young Daniel’s return.”
He smiled, and bent his head, and leaned down, and kissed Frank’s lips. He pushed his tongue forward, not tentatively but demandingly, shoving it inside Frank’s mouth and exploring his dental work most assuredly before breaking the kiss and saying, “Come with me, Frank. Let me show you everything.”
He was a very large man, but he moved with utter grace and athletic smoothness, as if he was so intimately in charge of every part of his massive musculature that his seven feet of height was more of an advantage than a detriment. Frank tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up, not without difficulty, exiting the darkened room and leaving the continuing sounds and smells of sex behind him.
The two men wandered into the hallway and Frank followed Mr. Green’s amazing ass past two more doors before they entered a very large bedroom, complete with a very large bed - easily larger than any bed Frank had ever seen. “This is my bedroom,” Mr. Green said, turning back around. “I thought I should be a bit more formal for a guest.” He moved toward a set of double doors and opened them. A light came on automatically beyond the entrance and Frank realized he was looking at a walk-in closet the size of his entire apartment.
Frank realized that the huge, handsome man intended to cover up his perfection with clothing, and he almost made a strong statement to the contrary but thought better of it, since he was the guest here. “I don’t generally wear clothing, anymore,” he said simply. “For obvious reasons.” Mr. Green grinned evilly and Frank blushed, dropping his gaze and finding himself staring, once again, at the other man’s immense cock and balls.
Mr. Green opened a drawer in a large chest set against the back of the closet and drew out something dark and coiled, unravelling it in his large hands and bending down. Frank realized that it was a black jockstrap, with a thin waistband and a copious basket. “Even these,” Mr. Green explained, “bought extra large, fail to accommodate me. I have several pairs, though - all in black.” He pulled them up his muscled legs and then arranged his equipment inside the bulging cup. “I think they look rather fetching, don’t you?”
If anything, they made him look even more erotic. Frank didn’t think it possible, but the act of covering up his enormity and seeing the outline of the thick shaft and plum-sized helmet snugly encased in the stretchy material brought his erection back in full force. Mr. Green’s ass was showcased by the straps from behind, and they seemed somehow to lift it higher, if that was possible, presenting its utter beauty in a whole new light. “There we are,” he said, “all neat and tidy.” The cup sagged and bulged with its cargo, the material stretched to its limit to encompass Mr. Green’s prick and balls.
He walked out of the closet, closing it behind him. He paused then at the closet’s double doors, striking a pose with his feet at shoulder width, the bulge between his legs both prominent and striking, and held his hands out. “Better?”
“Some ways, yes, some ways, no,” Frank replied, honestly.
Mr. Green’s handsome face broke into a smile. “Thank you, Frank.” He walked forward and cupped the smaller man’s face in his huge hands and bent down, placing his lips against Frank’s mouth and kissing him passionately.
He stood again to his towering height and the simple movement made some kind of invisible cloud of his unique, spicy, intoxicating scent to swirl about the room. It was an earthy smell with hints of cinnamon, leather and sweat. It reminded Frank of a very expensive gym’s locker room, where the luxurious soaps and lotions mixed with the more basic essences of masculinity, like sweat and ass and that sultry, sexual scent just at the taint between a man’s ball sack and his moist hole. It suited Mr. Green perfectly.
He placed his hand on Frank’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “An academic, then,” he said, “Not that I’m implying that Danny and his friends are shallow or adolescent - there’s a lot to be said for a one-track mind when that track runs directly for the libido. But it’s a nice change to have someone to talk to who’s looking into by eyes rather than staring at my crotch.”
“It’s a very impressive crotch,” Frank replied. After he said it, Frank wondered if he had actually seen Charles’s ample prick bulge and thicken even larger, as if his words could make the enormous shank swell with pride.
“Oh, dear,” Mr. Green, said, “have I already lost you to carnal lust?” There was an element of hope in his tone, and his own eyes drifted south towards Frank’s throbbing prick. A pleasant warmth grew there and a familiar and insistent tingling developed in Frank’s balls and surrounded the plumping head of his cock, as if the man had some special power to make Frank’s cock feel wonderful through only a glance, but surely it had more to do with the muscular man’s mere presence than any magic he might otherwise possess.
“Not just yet,” Frank said, reaching down to adjust himself with a twinge of embarrassment. “I believe you promised me a tour of your home, Mr. Green.”
“Please call me Charles,” he said softly. “Come along, then, Frank,” the man urged, placing his large hand again upon Frank’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “I have so much to show you.”
The Green home was larger than Frank suspected, almost as if they occupied the Tardis from Doctor Who and it somehow managed to bend space and time and become larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. There were several bedrooms, all of which had large queen- or king-sized beds made up with expensive linens and copious soft pillows. Some were still arranged as if no one occupied them, while others showed that a young man lived here - a rather active young man, as far as the beds were concerned - and he wasn’t all that tidy. The color scheme was composed of soft greens, blues and beiges with occasional tasteful plashes of jewel tones in the furnishings.
Frank checked his watch at one point and realized he had been with Mr. Green for 20 minutes, and said, “I should be getting back. I suspect your son is wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”
Charles stopped and said, “Perhaps, though he did look a tad preoccupied when we saw him last - and those things do tend to linger on, you know.”
“Those things?”
“Orgies,” Charles said simply, his beautiful smile winding across his full, sensuous mouth. “Though I tend to prefer more personalized treatment, don’t you?”
If truth were told, Frank had never actually participated in an orgy. He was surprised that there were even that many gay men in this small town who could find each other. But all he did was nod silently and think about the large man before him completely naked, covered in sweat, fucking his ass with his huge prick.
A palpable sexual heat emanated from Mr. Green, and grew stronger the closer Frank got. The man was like a star made of pure raw manly sex. It shone from him and throbbed and threw off flaming waves of itself as he gestured and moved, like sunflares.
Then there were the other aspects of his personality; an overwhelming confidence and control. A shell of perfectly maintained calm and patience, though at times it felt like he was going to turn around and attack Frank, rip his clothes from his body with his bare hands and swallow him whole. He was unfailingly polite, but Frank also knew exactly who was in charge, and that anything Charles Green wanted, he was very likely to get.
And if Frank had any doubts about that, the Green household and its treasures were testament to the man’s appetites. Lots of mid-century furniture, lots of books, original paintings and photographs placed carefully on the walls, the floors made of polished wood with expensive hand-loomed rugs and everything was spotless and perfectly placed. It was a museum to good taste.
And there he was at the center, a gargantuan muscular statue carved by a Roman sculptor whose tastes obviously ran to the homosexual end of the beauty spectrum. Muscle, cock, ass and fur all developed and arranged to a level of beauty and perfection that seemed nearly inhuman. And then there was his face, and those dark green eyes, with a nearly constant expression of sheer lustful power. It was the face of a man fucking you hard, and knowing how good he could do it.
He exuded a level of sexual prowess and capability far exceeding anything or anyone in Frank’s world. The entire time he was in the man’s presence, his cock stayed rock hard and urgently throbbing, ready to cum a thick fountain of hot cream if the man only asked.
They were descending a long set of stairs toward a single door at the bottom, lit by a soft white light that cast a triangle of white along its metallic face. Even following behind Mr. Green and standing a few steps above him, the man’s head was at eye level and his body filled the hallway. And that ass… my god, that ass in-between the straps of his supporter was something like a miracle of human development. Smooth, round, high and powerful. Their steps echoed softly off the walls and the space grew increasingly dark as they approached the lit door.
“This will conclude our tour, Frank,” Charles said, placing his hand on the door’s handle. “I’ve saved the best for last - I hope you’ll agree.”
The latch released loudly and Mr. Green pushed the door open. The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, and Charles stepped aside and motioned for Frank to enter first.
As soon as he stepped foot inside the room, motion detectors lit up several lights recessed into the ceiling. They were arrayed around the room, each shining down on its chosen target, and Frank gasped and blinked and felt his cock tighten and swell.
It was a sex room. That much was obvious. Slings were arrayed along one wall, and platforms and other furniture designed to facilitate deep penetration and easy access were arranged on the floor. Against the other wall, a variety of muscle-building machines were bolted to the floor and the concrete bricks. Racks of shining chrome dumbbells and heavy disks of shining silver iron were waiting to be used. Hundreds of pounds of free weights, perhaps thousands of pounds, plus machines designed to build muscle on every inch of a man’s body. Everything was draped in black leather, and the floor was covered in a layer of spongey foam.
The room smelled like raw man sex and sweat. It smelled like power and ass and cock and balls. “Welcome to the play room,” Charles said. Frank could hear soft sounds behind him but his eyes were busy soaking in the gleaming metal and dark, soft leather everywhere he looked.
He stood there, mesmerized by the sights and smells of the large room when he felt the warm, powerful presence of Mr. Green looming behind him, then he walked past Frank and made him gasp again, because Mr. Green was once again gloriously and completely naked. His perfect ass was walking away from Frank toward the side of the room where the weights were assembled.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Charles said, “but I thought we might get in a little workout, you and I.”
“Fuck,” Frank whispered, watching the muscular form of Mr. Green approach a rack and start to methodically pile 100-pound disks onto a bar already sitting on a bench. The muscles of his arms bulged as he hefted them 3-at-a-time in his grip, shoving them onto the bar until 1,200 pounds of steel were waiting for Mr. Green’s lift. “There,” he said, “that’s a nice warm-up.”
Frank realized that the 100-pound plates were the smallest in the room. 200, 400 and 500 pound behemoths were also lying in wait. Plates so large and heavy that Frank doubted their authenticity.
Mr. Green arranged himself onto the huge bench and slid under the bar, reaching up and grabbing it in his hands. His cock, thick and heavy, dangled off the edge of the bench between his thickly-muscled legs. As he hefted the bar off its seat, the bar bent under the weight and he lowered it to his chest. “Okay,” he said, “here we go.”
The man was bench-pressing over half-a-ton of weight above his chest as easily as another man might start off with two 45-pound plates. He wasn’t even sweating when he had finished off a quick 50 reps, and after reseating the bar and sitting up, his upper body looked bigger than ever. He twisted his torso and stretched his thick cables of brawn, and didn’t even seem to notice as they bunched up and bulged fatter than ever on his perfect and flawless body. He stood up and traded the 100-pound plates for 400-pounders, until over a ton of weight hung on the bar.
“These are made specially,” he said as he sat again on the bench. “The bars and the plates. Ordinary bars break under all this weight, and it’s very difficult to work with too many plates on.” He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “I wonder if they make thousand-pound plates?” He shrugged, and it looked like two mountain ranges colliding.
He started to lift again. 2,400 pounds of plates mounted on a bar weighing god knows what. And off he went again. 10 sets. 20. 40. Frank’s eyes bulged almost as much as his dick. 70 sets. And then 100. Mr. Green set the bar carefully into the bench’s upright arms and sat up.
He looked massive. Thick veins gripped his pectorals and wrapped around his biceps. The muscles of his upper body bulged thicker and fatter than Frank would’ve thought possible. It looked as if inches of new growth had miraculously appeared all across his torso. “Nothing like a good workout to get the blood flowing,” Charles announced. Then he reached down and caressed the fat shank of his cock, and Frank nearly lost it.
Because his prick looked larger. Noticeably so. The man’s cock seemed to have benefitted from his weight-lifting as if it, too, were made of muscle. Still limp, it was overwhelmed with fat veins and the shaft and head were plump and heavy.
He stood up, monstrous and marvelous, his cock falling heavily between his thighs and dangling nearly to his knees. His upper body now looked out of balance with the rest of him, as if the term “pumping” took on a literal meaning and his muscles had somehow inflated across his arms, chest and shoulders. He walked over to another rack and loaded more weight onto a thick bar. Then he easily lifted it onto his shoulders and began doing low squats as the bar sagged with its six 500-pound plates.
Up and down he moved with robot perfection. This time, facing Frank, it was evident that the muscular growth was actually occurring. The man’s legs began to burst and swell with new muscular development. The lobes and wedges unfolded and grew as he pumped the weight with his whole body. And there, at the core of his massive frame, was his cock, swelling as well, lengthening and thickening and growing impossibly large.
He wasn’t even grunting. He wasn’t sweating or showing the least sign of difficulty as he continued to pump his muscles larger and larger. At the count of 100, he slowly lifted the bar from his shoulders and set it on the floor, again, as gingerly as anyone else might set down a cardboard box of books.
When he straightened, he looked not only stronger and bigger and more muscular - he looked taller as well, as if his body was growing not just more powerful in strength but in stature as well.
Frank had not moved since the entire production began. He still stood near the entrance to the gym and sex emporium, his eyes glued on Mr. Green’s impossible and amazing performance.
The man was beautiful. He was perfect. His body glowed with power. His cock was huge and his balls were fat. Muscle was practically bursting from his skin. Fat wedges folded into their brothers in a harmonious flow of muscular perfection. Bands of power bulged across his chest and met in the center at an inches-deep cavern. His abdominal wall was a cascade of fat bulges. Everything had been pumped to glorious perfect masculine beauty.
“Holy fuck.”
Mr. Green smiled. “Thank you, Frank.” He started to walk across the room, toward the sex wall. “Would you care to join me? Working out is always more fun with two people - and these particular exercises really require some help.” His hand was resting on the wrist straps of a large sling. The contraption was suspended from gleaming chains and made a soft jingling sound when Charles handled it. It looked like a sort of open lounger like the one that Danny had deposited his towel on upstairs, but with restraints for the ankles and wrists and positioned for easy access to its occupant’s groin and ass.
It was very large, and the chains were heavy gauge steel. Mr. Green was smiling and he beckoned Frank over with the curl of his finger.
It was Frank’s turn to smile. “I thought I was going to be the passenger,” he said.
Charles shook his head. “I may look like the alpha dog,” he explained, “but I want you in the driver’s seat.” When Frank had drawn close, the seven-foot, four-inch muscular giant wrapped his arms around Franks small body and kissed him soundly. Frank could feel the heat and power of Charles’s foot-long prick pushing against his body. The other man’s heat and need were palpable. “Fuck me, Frank,” he said softly. “Fuck me hard.”
“Is that an order?”
“Something tells me,” Charles replied, “that you’ll be the one giving the orders.”
Frank nearly swooned. His deepest fantasy was coming true. To dominate a huge bodybuilder, and here was the biggest one of them all. “On your knees, boy,” he said, unzipping his pants. “And open your mouth.”
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Green replied.
Frank unzipped and dug inside his pant, pulling out his stiff, red prick. It was hot and thick in his hand, rising up proudly to its full six inches. The head was glistening with a smear of precum and his balls were loose and dangling. Mr. Green looked up into Frank’s eyes as he clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward, sticking a long, slick tongue from between his full lips and licking the shaft from Frank’s shaven ball sack to the flaring ridge of his helmet. Then he wrapped his lips around the tip and gently sucked as his tongue darted around the head, sending shivers up Frank’s spine and making his toes curl.
Then Mr. Green plunged his mouth over Frank’s engorged cock and sucked the entire thing inside his mouth, and suddenly Frank was experiencing the blow job to end all blow jobs.
What was the man doing? How was he doing whatever it was he was doing? Did he have two tongues? It felt amazing and marvelous and Charles was moaning in pleasure and slurping noisily and going to town on Frank’s dick like no one had ever done before. It was a revelation of a blow job - the man should be teaching this as a master’s degree at some sexual university. He was more than an expert, and it was clear that he not only enjoyed this work, he relished it.
“Ah, fuck, yeah,” Frank said softly, rolling his head back on his neck and closing his eyes. Pleasure was flooding his system, all originating from the hard-on between his legs. It felt so good he didn’t want it to ever stop, but he could feel his load building and he tensed his asshole to stop the flow and reached down, grabbing Mr. Green by the back of his head and physically pulling him off his cock before it exploded. “Very good, boy,” he said. Charles licked his lips and smiled, eager for the praise.
“Get up,” Frank commanded, and the man rose to his towering height, standing before his master at attention. Every muscle was bulging and hard. He stood silent and still, awaiting a command. “I’m going to fuck you,” Frank said. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you to fuck me,” Charles repeated. His voice was low and powerful. His face reflected the need in his words. “Please fuck me.”
“How do you want me to fuck you, boy?”
“Fuck me hard, sir,” Charles replied. “I must be fucked very, very hard.”
“Get into the sling, boy,” Frank ordered. “Prepare yourself for me.”
“Yes, sir,” Charles said. He did not smile, or show any emotion. He turned and began to climb into the chains and straps suspended above the floor, sitting in the narrow black leather seat, his legs stretched wide. Frank shackled his wrists and ankles and ran his hand down the man’s thickly muscled torso. He reached up and took Mr. Green’s peanut-sized nipples in his fingers and rolled them gently, then started to apply pressure, pinching them in his fingers. Mr. Green bit his lower lip and closed his eyes and whimpered slightly. His huge prick jerked and swelled, folding with blood and growing fatter and longer by the inch as Frank tortured his nipples. “Do you like that?”
“Yes, sir,” Charles replied. His eyes were closed and his teeth were grinding.
“Good boy,” Frank said softly. Then he stepped back to look at the prize before him. Charles was hanging three feet off the floor. His arms and legs were stretched wide, making the muscles of his limbs stand out starkly. Thick veins wound around his muscular bulges and a dark forest of moist curls erupted in each armpit. His chest was stretched absurdly wide, the mountains of power bulging like tectonic plates. His cock, a whole foot long if it was an inch, was throbbing against the eight-pack of his cobblestone abdominal wall, and it was leaking a stream of clear honey that seeped into the curls that dove deep into every muscled valley.
Frank moved his hand between Mr. Green’s lags and rubbed a fingertip against Charles’s tight pucker. “Open up for me, boy,” Frank advised, “or I might split you in two with my dick.”
“Yes, sir,” Charles replied. And like magic, his ass opened to Frank’s touch, yawning wide and glistening with warm juice. Frank slipped three fingers inside him and he managed to open himself even wider. “Very good,” Frank said quietly, attempting to hide his arousal and amazement at the man’s muscular control. “Very, very, good.”
“Thank you, sir,” Charles replied. “Please, sir. Please fuck me.”
“Patience, boy,” Frank said. “You must learn patience.”
“Yes, sir.” Charles squirmed slightly and his ass opened wider still. Frank pulled his hand out and sniffed the essence of Mr. Green’s masculine scent. It made his cock throb and swell and his nipples tingled.
“Hold it for me, boy,” Frank said. “Hold it open.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” Then Frank dropped his face down to Mr. Green’s ass and applied his tongue to the warm, wet hole, licking circles around the circumference and pushing it inside. Charles tasted like sex. His ass was a thing of beauty, asking to be fucked. Frank licked the taint and sucked his balls and went back to the gaping hole still await his entry. Then he stood up and spit a gob onto his hand and started slicking up his prick. “I’m going to fuck you now, boy. Are you ready for me?”
“I’m afraid, sir,” Charles said. “You’re too big.”
“I’m going to fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before. Do you believe me?”
“I do, sir.”
“Good boy, Charles.” He pulled in a long, deep breath and positioned his prick before the gaping hole, feeling heat pouring from it and bathing his cock in moist warmth. He pushed the head against Mr. Green’s asshole and Charles whimpered and shook, then Frank leaned forward and shoved himself inside.
Mr. Green’s hole clamped down on his cock like a vice. Frank gasped and nearly came, shocked and surprised. Then the ass eased off and Frank began slowly fucking Mr. Green’s awesome ass, moving his cock in and out with slow, deliberate thrusts.
Mr. Green reacted as if he’d been pierced by a fucking flagpole. He moaned and whimpered and shuddered. His incredible body shook and twisted in its shackles as Frank fucked him with deliberate, deep thrusts. Charles said something too softly to be heard, and then his ass started doing something that seemed to Frank almost like it was giving him a blowjob, as if Mr. Green’s ass could suck on his cock, and lick it, and surround it with the most intense sensations of sexual pleasure he’d ever felt.
“Fuck me harder, sir,” Charles said. “Please, sir. Fuck me harder.”
Frank’s hips started to piston faster, and his cock shoved in to the hilt, and the sensation of intense bliss increased. Cascades of erotic passion shook Frank’s body, emanating without a doubt from Mr. Green’s miraculous ass.
He fucked him harder and deeper. His cock felt huge and hot, as if it was growing bigger with each thrust. His cock felt heavy and thick and long and his load of salty, sticky cream was building in his balls and his body shook with pleasure.
“Harder, sir,” Charles begged. “You’re so big. Fuck me harder!”
Frank leaned in and started to fuck like a madman, pushing his cock in and out of Mr. Green’s talented hole with slick, sucking sounds echoing in his ears. He was going to cum. He was going to shoot like a geyser. “Are you ready for me, boy?”
“Fuck me, sir!”
“I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum inside me! I want you to cum inside me!”
“Ah, fuck!”
Danny came back inside nearly 45 minutes after he excused himself. Frank’s laptop screen was dark, so he knew that Frank hadn’t left, but the house was quiet. Most of his friends had departed, electing to head on out to The House to see who else was around, available, and horny, but Danny felt a bit ashamed about abandoning his new tutor and decided to go in to apologize. The only other teen sex god who remained behind was Carl, who had his own agenda to finalize.
“Where’d he go?”
Danny shrugged, adding “Fuck if I know.” They had both assumed their more natural sizes now that the orgy outside had concluded, their nearly nine-foot frames shrunken down to around six feet of thick muscular perfection. Carl had retrieved his clothes and was dressed in gray cut-off sweat pants tied at the waist and a red tanktop that hugged his muscled curves, while Danny was poured into a pair of tight low-slung blue jeans that came barely above his crotch (showing an inch or more of ass cleavage) with a black crew neck sleeveless “muscle” T-shirt that bared his navel and showcased a treasure trail leading south.
“You think he’s gonna work out?” Carl asked.
Danny nodded. “He fits the profile. And he’s into muscle. Did you see his hard-on when you dudes walked in?” Carl laughed slightly, grinning at the memory of his effect on Frank’s libido. “He’d be up for it, for sure. I just wonder where the hell he got off to.”
“Here I am,” Frank announced, coming into the kitchen. His clothes were disheveled and patches of sweat made them cling to his small frame. “Sorry about that,” he apologized, “but your father was… showing me the ropes.”
“My father?”
Frank nodded. “Yes. Tall man? Muscular? Propensity for wearing athletic gear?”
“My father is in London on business,” Danny explained. “He’s been there for a month, and will still be there for two more months.”
“Your father, Charles?”
“My father, Stuart. Stuart Green, senior partner at Green, Jenkins & Tate. Short man. A bit fat. And balding.”
“But… the play room… and…”
“I built that in the basement.”
Carl laughed slightly. “Wait, your dad doesn’t even know about…?” He gestured vaguely toward Danny’s impressively muscled form, and Danny shook his head grinning.
“Only been talking on the phone. Told him I have a cold, so my voice is a bit lower.”
“Just a bit,” Carl observed.
“Hold on! Then... who have I been…? Who was that man I was…?”
Danny shrugged. “You said he was big?”
“Bigger than you,” Frank reported.
“But you’re still…”
“I’m still what?”
“Did he fuck you?”
Frank had the decency to blush. “Not exactly.”
“You blow him?”
Frank shook his head. “I was kind of… in charge.”
“The fuck, you say!” Carl was grinning and rubbing his hands together. “You dominated some muscle stud down in the play room?”
Frank felt a cold chill, then a hot one. “Okay, what the fuck is going on around here? Who the hell is Charles? And why are you dudes so huge? The stuff I saw downstairs, the way that man grew muscle, the way he got bigger, the things he could do with his butt, I don’t…”
“What could he do with his butt?” Carl asked, excitedly.
“Shut up, Carl,” Danny said, scowling. “Where is this Charles guy, now?”
“Downstairs, I assume. I got done pound… exercizing with him and he said he was going to work out a bit more. So I came up here looking for you to apologize.”
“You left a well-lubed, lust-filled, cum-guzzling muscle freak alone?” Carl was clearly astounded at the very idea.
“Well… I’d cum a bucketful and was feeling kind of worn out. That man’s ass is amaz…”
“C’mon!”
Danny was off like a shot and headed for the basement stairs, with Carl following after and Frank bringing up the rear. The two musclebound teens made the floor - and almost the entire house - shake as they jogged across the floors and down the stairs, emerging into the darkened play room all at once and finding it entirely empty of occupants. “Where is he?” Danny demanded.
“I don’t know!”
“Are you fucking lying to me?”
“Believe me, I’m not lying. If you doubt it, have a look at this.” Frank started undoing his pants and pulling the zipper down, shoving his hand inside his crotch and pulling out inch after inch of a fat, long, amazing prick, semi-firm and nearly ten inches long. “I didn’t own this monster before I stuck it up his ass, but when I pulled out, this is what I had. This thing is twice as big as it ever was before - I mean, look at me! I’m five foot nine and weigh maybe 140 pounds soaking wet. What’s a guy like me doing owning a prick like this?”
It was undeniably true. The cock he held in his hands was a massive shank of sex meat, easily a match to to the other two teenager’s enhanced pricks. Something - someone - had made a very distinct and targeted change to Frank’s anatomy. “Whoa,” Carl said, somewhat longingly.
“And keep in mind - this monster is limp. When it gets hard…”
“Bigger than that?”
Danny smiled. “Much.”
“Whoa,” Carl repeated.
Danny was looking around and spotted something lying in a sling, something gray and cloth placed particularly so it caught the light. “What’s that?”
“One way to find out,” Frank responded. They all walked over and looked at it.
Danny said, “It’s a t-shirt.”
“I know that smell. That’s his smell.” The two young men looked at Frank, and he said, “That shirt has to belong to Charles.”
“Duh,” Danny said to Carl’s obvious statement. “What’s the T for?” It was a heather grey sleeveless XXL T-shirt, cut short to expose a man’s stomach. The material was stretchy, at least partially made of Latex, and across the chest was a very large, black T.
“What’s on the back?” Carl asked. Danny turned it over. Then his eyes went very wide. “What? What is it?”
“One word.”
“What word?”
Danny flipped the shirt around. It said, in silver capitalized letters:
TRANSFORM