A Hot July 10: Change in the Air
Sean was nearly delirious with his own erotic masculinity, a sexuality so powerful that the sensations of his body were the all his mind wanted to know. Below him, the most gorgeous man imaginable was begging to experience his body, to feel the full length and girth of his male appendage, to feel his huge, thick muscle, watch him flex as he felt himself growing still thicker, bigger, more intensely masculine in a way that could never be described. The only thing he could possibly be more in love with was more. More of all this. To feel the explosion that linked his brain with his muscle, hair, cock, balls and made him feel so hot he could explode with the pure ecstasy of his sexuality.
He looked at Steve, when the sound of his heavy footsteps announced his arrival in the family room, and saw in his one-time idol the kind of fantasy he'd just been having. Steve was huge, his muscle morphed into a pure erotic fantasy, more so than before. Relaxed, his arms were swollen with at least twenty-six inches of muscle, the veins larger to allow more blood to feed the muscle. His shoulders sat atop a mountain of thick, hairy muscle, pecs hung heavy with mass, legs splayed apart by their own solid mass, his head almost too small for the body, except for its incredible masculine beauty, the square, dimpled jaw with its coat of dark blond stubble, the full lips curled into a devilish grin.
"One fuckin' spray, man, and look! Twenty pounds!"
He stuck a double biceps pose for them, and the muscle blew up to what looked like thirty inches.
Sean reacted to the sight and the feeling of his cock growing thicker inside his dad from the high dosage they'd both taken.
Steve got down beside them, seeing they weren't going to stop fucking to admire his body, and he needed to have it admired. He flexed an arm and held it where they could both reach it, and the two of them, Sean and Ted, father and son, reached for it and felt its hot, solid mass.
Their fucking was slow, hard, deep, and rhythmic, every inch of every long thrust a cyclone of erotic pleasure so deep and strong it could not be interrupted, but Ted, in his own personal world of male body love, feeling himself massing in front of his boy and knowing the pleasure of it could only grow, reached down and pulled Steve's cock out of the tight but brief shorts he was wearing. It had been coiled and thick, constrained but displaying its astounding potential, and it flopped heavy and grew fast until its twenty inches boned over his belly.
"Get under me," Ted rolled himself up so Steve could get behind him, raise him onto his massive thighs. Sean spread his own legs to let Steve get in place. He knew what his dad wanted, and he was so turned on now he gulped for air between ragged breaths.
Steve slid down, lifting the muscular body onto his lap carefully, so as not to disrupt the rhythm of Sean's steady fucking, until he got his huge cock against Sean's. Sean paused while Steve positioned the head of his cock against the place where son entered father, and with a sudden, hard thrust, his slid his meat alongside Sean's deep into Ted's beautiful body.
"Oh, Holy fucking God," Ted gasped. "Oh fuck, man, oh fuck, that is so good."
"Fuck, Dad," Sean grabbed his father's huge, hairy pecs with both hands, "You are so fuckin' hot, man. Dude's got such a hot fuckin' dad, man. Oh, God, aww, yeah, man. I gotta cum."
"Yeah, kid," Steve had reached around Ted and was jacking his hard, leaking rod with both hands, "yeah, let's do it, man, come on. Let's fill your stud dad with grow juice, bro. Aww, yeah, yeah, come on." When all three of them came at the same time, the neighbors could have heard the collective groan of the ultimate male pleasure. Even when they stood up, Ted could only feel his own incredible body in full rush mode from the formula and the sex, feel the mass of his muscle and the hair that decorated it, the weight of his organs pulling on his groin even as they grew almost imperceptibly, but definitely more and more manhood with every passing day, hour, moment.
Only now did they begin to register what Steve had come in to tell them.
"A spray?" Sean said.
"Yeah. Fuck, man. Those guys are insane, man."
"Where, uh, how, uh, how does it work?" Ted was feeling his naked beauty and thinking of more, more muscle, more cock, balls, hair, more of this unbelievable sex drive as he asked about it.
"You can spray it in the air, man, and if a guys breathes it, it's like a full dose. You can spray it right on the skin, too, and then it's even stronger. It takes longer to work on the skin, though.
When you spray it in the air and a guy breathes it, it's like instant boner, man, instant horndog, instant manlust."
"You did this, dude? They tried it on you?"
"Yeah, man. They're trying it on everyone. It's fuckin' extreme, man. It's like poppers, bro, but like a million times better cause it does the change thing. Shit, dude, turn on your TV. It's even on the news."
They put on a news channel, and the story was about the mystery behind the source for this rapidly proliferating form of bionuclear weapon that was spreading like a virus and creating a race of mutant men.
They couldn't call it warfare, because there didn't seem to be any country or place that had not been affected, and it didn't appear to be actually harming anyone. But it was creating some sort of paradigm shift, as more and more men fell under the sexual sway of their mutating bodies to the exclusion of almost everything else. Men had become unable or unwilling to continue at their jobs. Marriages and families were collapsing as these men only seemed to be interested in each other as sexual objects. Some people were calling it obscene, others were clamoring to gain access to the formula, not caring about the apparent powerful side effects, which seemed to be mostly a benign obsession with male sexuality and its expression and experience.
Then the studio reporter cut to a location reporter in Los Angeles, standing on a street he identified as being in West Hollywood. The camera held a long shot as he introduced himself, and Steve, Ted and Sean couldn't believe what they were seeing. Every third or fourth guy looked like one of them, huge, muscular beyond anything steroids could accomplish, and wearing mostly shorts in stretch material that showed the same extreme development of their proudly and blatantly displayed packages.
Then the camera came in tight.
"We couldn't have showed you this just a few weeks ago," the reporter said, "without charges of obscenity. Now, every school, store, and street corner has been exposed, and whatever the source of this phenomenon, it is so widespread as to be almost becoming a norm." "Look at that dude," Steve said. "He's done some, man." And the reporter showed all the signs of a new recruit. He was stunningly handsome, as could be expected of an LA newsman, but there was an erotic twinkle in his eye and curl to his lip, and dark hair crept over the buttoned up collar of his dress shirt, and the shirt had obviously been purchased to fit a more slender man, because his pecs and arms were filling the material and showing the shape of a bodybuilder.
"Maybe he's just a bodybuilder, man," Sean said.
"Yeah, maybe." Steve sounded doubtful.
"As this reporter can testify, exposure can be quite sudden and unexpected, but, if everyone can simply avoid the fear that seems to be spreading as well, there really seems little to worry about . . . unless you happen to be a gym owner." He laughed, amused at his own joke.
"This could be the beginning of another kind of brave new world.
No more sexual repression, no jealousy, no discrimination, and," the camera began to pull away again, showing the street with amazing hunks flexing their arms for each other, displaying their male plumage more proudly than peacocks, and now, even the reporter showed a definite bulge in his slacks as he made a sweeping gesture of the scene and said, "some pretty amazing looking men."
The show went back to the studio, where the anchor didn't seem to have a ready retort, but they turned off the set.
"Come on, you guys. Let's go over to the mansion," Steve said.
Steve's dad, Ken, had been as excited as his son about the new spray.
They took it just like you would take breath spray, but while they were there, Matt had brought a buddy by who said he just wanted to meet Chad and Hal, that he wasn't at all sure he wanted to do the change thing. seizing the chance for trial and demonstration, Chad had come into the room with a small spray, small enough to conceal in the hand, much like a breath spray, and, as though he were spraying potpourri, without saying a word, as they all talked, he had sprayed a small cloud of mist right in front of the boy. This buddy of Matt's was another guy from the high school, not a jock, not a geek, just a nice looking, regular guy. They went on talking about how it felt to become so muscular, not to mention the other obvious attributes to be gained. It couldn't have been more than a minute or two before the guy started to show the signs--the slight sweating, the change of focus, and the insistent boner that would not be held back, so hard he couldn't hide it, nor could he make himself want to, suddenly.
He'd been naked and worshiping Matt's body so fast that now Ken couldn't wait to find a guy to try it on.
Ken knew how good he looked. He also knew he was so obviously what he was, that everyone who saw him knew. That made it easy to see who found him interesting, so, on the way home, he stopped by a small shopping mall near the house. He went into the bookstore, and, as always, now, the display of his genitals in his soft stretch shorts, tennis balls and a Polish sausage with a mushroom helmet, and the mass of his body, muscle spilling out of his tank, made people stare.
These days, he could look around and see other guys there who were obviously undergoing the process, guys he'd never met at the mansion, in various stages of development, and the temptation was always to link up with one of them, the knowledge of the pleasure to be had like a magnet. But not this time. He nodded and kept going.
He sauntered to the magazines and the section where the fitness and bodybuilding magazines were kept. Sure enough, there was a young guy there, looking at a magazine he tried to hide when Ken came close. Ken picked up a bodybuilding magazine. As he thumbed through it, he could see the guy, probably about twenty-two or so, sneaking glances at him. He turned so that the guy could see him well, and the next time the guy looked, Ken caught his eye and winked. The kid looked away, partly turning away, too, but not so much as to be unable to look again, which he did shortly.
"Into muscle, huh?" Ken said. "These guys are almost starting to look puny to me."
The kid put the bodybuilding magazine back, but took a fitness magazine from the rack, laughing a chuckle or two, not to ignore Ken, but not replying, really. He looked down, intently thumbing through the ads in the back.
That was when Ken took the spray from the waistband of his shorts, so small that it had hardly been noticeable, and held it up like breath spray, but aimed it toward the kid and sprayed.
The kid looked up, but the mist was so fine as to be almost invisible, with no scent, so he kept reading.
Ken waited about a minute before putting the magazine back and selecting another, saying, "Yeah, muscle is hot. Don't ya think?" The kid looked at him now with that look on his face. He didn't know what had just happened, but he suddenly had the hardest boner he'd ever had, and he was so turned on by Ken's body he could hardly catch his breath.
"Yeah," was all he could say.
"Yeah," Ken repeated. "I thought I wouldn't like it, but it's fuckin' hot as shit." He flexed his arm but held it down so just the kid could see him flex it. The kid swallowed hard. His cargo pants were jutting out where his boner felt like it could pop through the material.
"Go ahead, if you want," Ken said, "feel it."
The kid looked around. No one was watching, so he reached over and felt the hard bulging muscle of Ken's arm.
"Shit," he said. "That's hard."
Ken laughed. "So are you," he nodded at the guy's hard-on.
The kid blushed.
"Ken," Ken said, extending his hand.
"Connor," the kid answered as he shook Ken's hand.
"So," Ken said, maintaining his grip on the kid's hand for a minute, "You want to follow me? I live close."
The kid put his magazine back.
"What are you driving?" he said.
"A red Beemer convertible. It's right outside. Just follow me. That is, if you want to."
Connor followed Ken out of the store with a boner so hard that he knew if anyone looked there, there would be no doubt, but he was feeling so turned on by the friendly advance of the huge muscledude that he couldn't find it in him to care. He'd been torn by what he saw happening around him recently. He'd always been torn by his fascination with bodybuilders and bodybuilding fighting his deeply ingrained need to be midwest-normal. Regular guys didn't turn themselves into muscle freaks. And now, even more, with this weird morphing or mutation thing, whatever it could be called, that turned guys into freaks bigger than any bodybuilding could do, sweeping across the country like a plague, making them not just huge, but HUGE, where it made people think they were obscene, and queer on top of it all, well, he was about freaking. He couldn't do that, he knew, or his family would throw him out. He'd be like some kind of castout on the street, like a male musclebound whore or something. But now... but now... That guy, just flexing that totally unfuckingbelievable arm and letting him feel it. Popping wood so hard it felt like his dick might explode. And not caring who saw. He didn't care if anyone saw his big boned dick. He realized that as much as he knew he had to follow this guy. He wouldn't even care if they saw him turn into one of those guys. Not at all. In fact, he could feel how hot it would be. He wanted it. Even now, just walking through the store, following that guy, seeing that body, he knew more than he ever knew anything . . . he wanted it. Wanted it more than breath or food.
More than anything.