I Wanna Get Huge
by Jaypat
“I wanna get huge,” he said.
Oh Christ, why did I open my mouth? I stepped right into it. I had no one to blame but myself. Honestly, I had just been sitting at my desk quietly studying. Finals were coming up and I had to get an A if I wanted to get my GPA up. Then my little brother Josh came bounding in, uninvited and unwelcome. It was only natural for me to ask, “What do you want?”
“I wanna get huge,” he said. He’d been doing this for months now. Any time anyone would ask the magic question “What do you want?” he always had the same answer, “I wanna get huge.” It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. He always said the same thing.
It started last summer. We were at the beach. There was some kind of bodybuilding exhibition going on. Somebody had set up a temporary stage and there were a bunch of guys up there posing. I have to admit they were all pretty hot. I’ve been very quiet about my preferences in that area, around my family anyway. So, I was a little surprised when Josh asked if we could stop and check out the display. I “reluctantly” agreed, and began to wonder if little Joshy wasn’t leaning the same direction.
I was having a good time (inwardly I was very grateful I hadn’t changed into my swimming trunks yet), but Josh had been mesmerized. “Look at the arms on that guy,” he said. And when #27 flexed and displayed a flawless peak, Josh actually gasped. “He looks like he’s got a muscle on his muscle! Are biceps supposed to do that?”
“They do if you have the right genes,” I said.
Josh flexed his arm. It was stick thin with only a slight bump of a bicep. “Do you think I have the right genes?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. No one in our family had ever gotten into body building.
“I bet I do,” he said just before his jaw dropped open. #27 was showing off his quads. “Wow, how strong is that guy?”
“He looks pretty strong to me.”
“Hell, yeah. Why aren’t you that strong?”
#27 was apparently eighteen years old, just a year older than me. “Because building a body like that takes a lot of time and effort and I’m way too busy with school and the debate team.”
“Fuck the debate team,” said Josh, and that was unlike him. He almost never cursed.
“Easy for you to say, bro, but I’ve got college interviews coming up this year and they’ll be a lot more impressed by the debate team then they would be with a pair of sexy arms.”
“So you think they’re sexy?”
Christ, I had to watch myself, but yes they were sexy, enormously, hugely, mind blowingly sexy. “Sure,” I said. “Girls love ‘em.”
He kept pretty quiet for the rest of the show, only letting out an occasional gasp or “whoa.”
The last guy up was a professional heavy weight, and this guy was huge. When he started posing, I thought I was going to blow my load right there in my pants. And as strongly as he was affecting me, the impact he had on my little brother was far greater. He stood there eyes bulging out of his sockets, mouth hanging open and his breath was coming in whimpers. He almost looked like he was in a trance.
“Oh my God,” he said when it was over, “was that guy even human?”
Inwardly I thought that was a good question, outwardly I said, “Yeah, he’s human.”
And then Josh said it for the first time. “I wanna get huge.”
“Sure, Josh,” I said.” “Don’t we all.”
“No,” he said. “I wanna get huge, I mean for real.”
“Ok,” I said.
“No,” he said. “I really mean this.”
I looked at him. His jaw was set. He had a slight scowl in his eyes. He looked as determined as I’d ever seen him. “Sure Josh,” I said. “Let’s go get an ice cream.” As we walked to the stand I felt kind of sad. I knew where this was going. Josh was starting his sophomore year in the fall, and his schedule wouldn’t be any lighter than mine. He may not have been on the debate team but he was a talented saxophone player. He was in the school band, the orchestra and he was pretty good at just straight blowing. He’d have to give it all up if he wanted to take up bodybuilding and there was no way mom would ever let him do that.
We got to the stand and looked at the selection: Chocolate, Strawberry or Vanilla. I turned to Josh. “What do you want?’
“I wanna get huge,” he said.
I laughed. “Yeah. How about just picking an ice cream flavor for now?”
“Chocolate,” he said. And that’s how it started. From that day to this, whenever anyone asked Josh what he wanted, he would answer, “I wanna get huge.” At first it was funny. Then it got annoying, and finally a little scary. We all learned to phrase our questions very carefully in order to avoid those four words.
As far as Josh actually getting huge, things played out pretty much as I predicted. He joined a gym and spent most of the rest of the summer inside it. He ate right, took supplements and actually started growing some muscle. I have to admit by the time school started he was starting to look pretty good. His thin physique was beginning to disappear under a new layer of muscle.
But as soon as classes began, things started getting really busy and Josh was finding it almost impossible to get to the gym. He tried to give up the sax, and that led to a battle royal. Things were pretty ugly around our house for a while. And in the end, Josh had to give up the gym. It almost killed him to do it, but mom tried to comfort him by telling him he could take up the weight lifting again after he got out of college and was out on his own. He swore that he would.
But even though he wasn’t going to the gym anymore, he wouldn’t give up his favorite phrase. It was kind of embarrassing to go out to dinner with him, because every time a server would ask what he wanted, he would always say, “I wanna get huge.” It got so my dad would find out what he wanted in advance and then order for him.
And as Christmas approached it got even worse. Family members who weren’t aware of his strange quirk would keep asking him what he wanted. “I wanna get huge,” he would always say. There’d be an awkward silence and then someone would change the subject. My parents were convinced he was launching a psychological attack on them for making him give up the gym. But I wasn’t so sure. They hadn’t been at the bodybuilding exhibition with him. They hadn’t seen the look on his face when that professional stepped out on stage. I was pretty sure this was something more, something deeper. I was wondering if maybe he wasn’t starting to crack.
So, when he interrupted my studying on Christmas Eve, I didn’t get as angry with him as I otherwise might have. Instead I decided to try and get to the bottom of it, maybe help him out of his rut.
“I wanna get huge.”
“What do you keep saying that?” I asked. “You know you’re not going to get any serious gym time for years yet.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m going to get huge anyway.”
“Oh?” I said. “How are you going to pull that off?”
“Easy,” he said. “I asked Santa.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I asked Santa.”
“Dude, you haven’t believed in Santa since sometime in the last century.”
“I believe in him now.”
Oh boy. My studying could wait. This was getting serious. “And how exactly did you ask Santa?”
“I emailed him.”
“You emailed Santa?”
“Yup.”
“You have Santa’s email address?”
“Yup. [email protected], but if you’re thinking of emailing him, forget it. The deadline is long past. He’s probably flying over Finland by now.”
“Over Finland?”
“Yup.”
“Dude, I think you better lie down.”
“You’re probably right. Santa only comes if you’re asleep.” And then he turned and walked out of my room.
Holy crap, he was gone. My little brother had finally gone round the twist. What should I do? Should I tell mom and dad? Probably, but it was Christmas Eve. Why spoil the holiday for everyone? It wasn’t like he was a danger to anyone or himself. We could deal with this next week.
I tried to put it out of my mind and go back to studying, but it was useless. In the end I wound up just going to bed, where I tossed and turned all night.
And then at the crack of dawn, Josh came running into my room. “Wake up, bro. It’s Christmas!” And then he started bouncing my mattress up and down.
“Ok, ok, Josh,” I’m getting up. It was kind of a tradition with us. Every year on Christmas we would get up before our parents and go down and give each other our gifts. I got Josh a book on bodybuilding, a present I was currently regretting.
As we made our way down the stairs, Josh made a right instead of the left that would lead us to the family room where the tree was.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll just be a sec,” he said.
I followed him into the living room…and holy crap there was an actual stocking hanging by our fireplace. I recognized it. It was his from when he was a little kid. We’d both had them, but hadn’t used them in years.
“Where did you find that?”
“Up in the attic at the bottom of a box of junk.”
Our attic wasn’t exactly organized. It must have taken him weeks to find it. I was getting more worried about him by the second.
He lifted the stocking off the fireplace and shook it. Sure enough, there was something in it. He had this look of joyful anticipation on his face like… well, like a kid on Christmas. He reached into the stocking and pulled out a small bottle. He took one look at it and cried, “Yes!” Then he unscrewed the top, shook something out of it and popped it into his mouth.
“What you got there, Josh?” I had to ask.
“Here,” he said and he handed me the small bottle. I looked at the label and almost laughed out loud. It said: HUGE PILLS. Take one every hour. Only effective Christmas Day.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “Bro, you know someone’s playing a joke on you, right? These are like candy or something.”
“No,” he said, yanking the bottle back from me. “No, they’re not.” Jeeze, he looked a little pissed. I’d better change the subject. “Well, let’s go see what you got me. I bet it’s lame.”
“Yeah? I bet it’s not half as lame as what you got me.”
Actually he got me a video game I’d been wanting, and he seemed pretty happy with the book I got him. There was a pretty huge body builder on the cover doing a double bi.
“Look at those arms,” said Josh. “I’m going to have arms just like those, maybe bigger.”
“Sure,” I said. “Someday.”
“No,” he said. “Not someday. Today.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. “Right.”
“No, I’m not kidding,” he said. “Check it out.” He pulled back his sleeve and flexed, and whoa, there was some muscle there. I guess his summer time gains hadn’t faded yet.
“I’m growing, bro. I can feel it.”
Jeesh, I was wondering if we were going to get through the holiday without someone else noticing that Josh had flipped his lid. “Sure you are. Let’s go get some food.”
“Great idea,” he said. “I’m starving.”
We went into the kitchen for our annual Christmas morning refrigerator raid. I opened the door and peered in. “Looks like we’ve got some left over chicken, some steak, or I could fry up some eggs. What do you want?”
Oh shit! I asked the question. And with him being so weird this morning. Would I never learn?
“I’ll take all of it,” he said.
“What?” I asked, hardly daring to believe my ears. Where was the undying answer?
“I’m really hungry. I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”
“You don’t wanna…?” I asked, unable to believe I was prompting him.
“Get huge?” he said grinning.
“Well, yeah.”
“I don’t have to say it any more, ’cause I’m getting huge.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. I almost found my self missing the usual answer. It seemed far less insane than this one.
“No, I am,” he said, standing up. “Check it out.”
I had to look twice. Holy crap, he was taller than me. When did he get taller than me? I mean, I wasn’t a giant or anything, only about five nine, but I still had an inch on him at least. Or I thought I did. I knew he’d eventually catch me, maybe pass me, but I didn’t see it coming.
He saw the look on my face and said, “See? What’d I tell you?” Then he looked up at the clock. “Oops, time for another one.” Then he opened that bottle and popped another pill into his mouth. “They’re actually pretty tasty.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure.” I was definitely feeling a little confused at this point. The idea that he was actually growing from those things was ridiculous. So I put it out of my mind and started dishing out the food.
Josh ate like I’d never seen him eat. If he kept up like that there wouldn’t be anything left for mom and dad when they got up. I mean I had a couple of pieces of left over chicken, but he had all the rest of it, plus the left over steaks and a dozen eggs I cooked up for him.
When he finished the eggs he smiled and said, “That hit the spot.” The he started rubbing his chest through his sleep shirt. “Man, I’m itchy.” Then he reached behind himself, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it off over his head. HOLY CRAP! He was ripped to shreds! I mean this went way beyond a little left over summer muscle. He had a solid six pack, well defined pecs, and a set of broad shoulders, sitting on top of biceps that seemed way bigger than the one he showed me earlier.
“Oh yeah,” he said, flexing his arms and admiring them. “I’m loving this.”
“Jesus,” I said, “You’ve been hitting the gym in secret.” That had to be it. “Mom and dad are going to freak when they find out.”
“No,” he said. “It’s the pills, really.”
“I don’t buy that for a second, and neither will they.”
“Yeah, they will. They’ll have to… at the end of the day… when I’m huge.”
“You seriously think you’re going to get bigger?”
“Oh yeah, dude, a lot bigger. The bottle’s full of pills and I’ve only had two.” He flexed and man, that bicep, it was big, round and solid looking. “That’s pretty cool,” he said, feeling his own arm. “Bro, would you mind turning up the heat. It’s a little cold in here and I think I’m gonna go shirtless the rest of the day. I want to see every inch of me as I bulk up.”
“Turn it up yourself,” I said.
“No, dude,” he said, standing up. Holy Christ, he was even taller, I’d swear he was. Now he seemed to be at least two inches taller than me. And with all the muscle, he just seemed gigantic. He walked over to me, bumping me with his hard, bare pecs and said, “I think you want to do it for me.”
Christ, he was bullying me. Weather it was pills or secret gym visits, Josh was larger and stronger than me now, no question. And he wanted to make absolutely sure that I knew it.
“I bet you’re rethinking the whole debate team thing now, aren’t you?” he said. “I know I would be.”
“Are you going to beat me up, Josh? Is that what you’re going to do?”
“No, dude, just making a point. I’ll get the heat.” Then he turned and walked over to the thermostat and adjusted it. He squinted and looked at the read out. “Jeeze, is that the time? I’d better pop number three.” He opened the bottle and swallowed another one of the pills. He ran his hand over his broad chest and his cut abs and said, “Oh man, having muscles is so fucking hot.” Then he grabbed his cock through his sleep pants and winked at me. “I think I need a shower,” he said as he rolled from the room. What was going on? Josh didn’t curse like that or make crude gestures. Even his walk was different.
Crap, I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly my little brother was so different. He still scared me but for completely different reasons. What was he trying to say with his little power play, that I made a mistake choosing to develop my mind instead of my body? Was that really the way he felt?
I looked down at myself. I was pretty skinny, even a little flabby. Maybe I should put some effort into getting in shape.
And then suddenly mom and dad breezed into the room. “Morning,” they said. “How did the Christmas morning snack fest go?”
“Ahhhhh….”
Mom pulled open the fridge and gasped. “Where’d all the food go?”
“We ate it.”
“Very funny. Where did you hide it?”
“No, seriously, Josh ate most of it.”
My Dad sighed. “That kid is really trying my patients, and now he’s roped you into helping him.”
“No, dad, really. Josh ate it. He’s really is getting kind of big.”
“Don’t you start,” said mom.
“Look, he’s in the shower now. He’ll be down in a few minutes; then you’ll see. But, you know, don’t freak or anything.”
“You’re brother has yet to make me freak,” said my mom, “although he’s come close a couple of times. Why is it so hot in here?”
Mom dipped into the fridge and somehow managed to find enough food to make breakfast for her and dad. They were just getting ready to eat when Josh came down, shirtless as advertised. I was the first to see him.
Now I told mom and dad not to freak and I seriously had to make an effort not to freak myself. Because now I knew beyond a doubt, something weird was happening. Josh had gotten taller again. He was at least six feet tall, now, no question. And he was no longer just cut, he was starting to bulk. And I’m not talking the fatty kind of bulk ’cause there didn’t look like there was much fat on him. His shoulders had gotten broader. Traps had started to rise out of his back behind his thickening neck. Hi pecs were looking rounder and fuller in front of him. His abs had deep crevices separating them. And his arms, even in their relaxed state were looking thick with muscle.
“Morning,” he said grinning. And he waited until mom and dad turned toward him before he performed a long elaborate stretch, showcasing every inch of his muscular torso.
Mom dropped her coffee cup. Yup, she was freaking. “My Lord, what have you done?”
“I got my wish,” he said. “Isn’t that what Christmas is all about?”
“Steroids. It has to be steroids.”
“No,” he said. “I found something much better than that.”
“Larry, say something to your son.”
“I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” said Josh. “It’s a win win situation from where I’m standing. I get to be huge and I don’t have to give up the sax. I don’t see your problem.”
“The problem, young man,” said my dad, “is what it’s doing to your health.”
“My heath?” he laughed. “Do I look unhealthy to you?” He flexed his arm and, Christ, his bicep looked so much larger than it did an hour ago.
“Josh, you know as well as I do,” said my dad, “there’s much more to heath than big muscles.”
“I know that,” said Josh, “but how do you know that? Look at you. You’re all intellect and no body. And here you are trying to remake me in your image. Well, maybe I don’t want to be like you. Maybe I wanna be HUGE!”
And when he shouted that last word, the effect was amazing. I’d heard my brother shout at my father before lots of times, mostly about the whole gym/sax thing. But this time it was different. It was one thing to hear a skinny five foot eight teen shouting, it was a completely different thing when the teen was the tallest guy in the room and packing some pretty impressive muscle. Now his voice commanded attention. It seemed to say, “You’d better listen to me.”
And my dad must have thought the same thing because his shoulders just slumped and he said. “Maybe you right. Maybe I don’t pay enough attention to what you want. It’s just hard for me to think of you as an individual and not my little boy.”
“I’m no one’s little boy, not any more,” said Josh, and he pulled a most muscular, and oh my God, I’d swear he gotten bigger just standing there.
“That’s obvious,” said my dad. “We’ll talk about the gym membership later. Maybe you could give up either the band or the orchestra. But I still want you to see a doctor.”
“On Christmas? Good luck,” said Josh.
“I think it can probably wait until tomorrow.”
“No problem. By tomorrow I’ll be huge and it’ll be a done deal.”
I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. My brother actually got my dad to change his mind. He won. This, like, never happened. Once my parents made up their minds, that was usually that. Holy crap.
My brother moved over to his seat at the table and as he passed me he leaned over and whispered, “What do you think of my debating skills, Bro? Still think a little workout wouldn’t help?”
Damn. He was right. A commanding physical presence would definitely be an asset in a debate. It was all pretty clear to me now.
Josh ate a complete second breakfast, just packing the food down. And as he ate I watched him pretty carefully. I could see blue lines under his skin, obviously his veins. They were getting thicker and starting to protrude from his body. And his biceps… when he sat down they had pretty much been baseball size, but now, they were well on their way to softball size. Damn. He was getting bigger right in front of me. I started to wonder: how big was he going to get?
Josh finished off his meal with another one of those pills.
“What’s that?” asked my dad.
“Nothing,” said Josh. “Just a gag gift somebody gave me. You know, candy.” And he showed my dad the bottle.
My dad read the label and laughed. “Very appropriate,” he said, as he gave the bottle back to Josh.
Yeah, that was one way of putting it.
Josh stood up and as he did he bumped the table, knocking it a couple of inches over and upsetting just about everything on it. “Oops,” he said. “Being huge is going to take some getting used to.” Then he did another one of his full body stretches. Damn, his abs were just leaping out of his stomach.
“I’d say it was time to open some presents,” said Josh. “How about a piggy back ride?” he asked me.
Another one of our traditions had been the piggy back ride from the breakfast table to the Christmas tree. But I hadn’t given Josh one of those in years. And looking at him now… forget it.
“Josh, there’s no way I could—”
He interrupted me with a laugh. “No, dude, this time it’s on me.”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Oh come on, sweetie,” said my mom. “Let him do it. It’ll be cute.”
Josh turned around and bent his knees a little giving me a full view of his back and cute was the last word that would’ve entered my mind. Every single muscle in his back was ripped and bulging. I swallowed hard. “No, really I think I can walk.”
“I know you can walk, bro. That’s not the point.”
Yeah? What was the point?
“Oh wait. Let me get the camera,” said my mom and she dashed out of the room. My fate was sealed.
I wrapped my arms over his swollen traps and around his thick neck, clasping my hands together across his round heaving pecs. He was like steel, every bulging inch of him. This was not the kid who got me out of bed this morning; it just wasn’t. When he stood up straight, I realized just how tall he was. He had passed the six foot mark without a doubt.
“Dude,” he said, bouncing me up and down, you really gotta eat more. You’re starting to feel a little… unsubstantial.”
Unsubstantial? What was that supposed to mean?
I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Josh, I get it. You’re bigger than me. You don’t have to keep rubbing it in my face.”
He paused for a minute while mom took her pictures, then he started for the family room. As soon as we were alone, he said, “Dude, the only reason I’m bigger than you is I wanted it bad enough. You could be big, too, but you gotta need it, like you need your next breath.”
Then he set me down by the tree, and left me to ponder his words.
The gift opening went pretty smoothly until the end. We left the largest boxes for last and appropriately enough they were both for Josh. He leaned over to pick up a long flattish one.
“Oh, no, honey don’t…” said my mom, but it was too late. Josh had picked it up and was shaking it. “…you’ll hurt yourself,” she trailed off. Suddenly the box broke and a round metal weight crashed through the wrapping paper and fell to the floor.
“Cool,” said Josh. “A weight set.” Then he started curling the box. Man, sometime in the last hour his biceps had passed softball size. Look at them bulging out of his arms covered in veins. Damn, his whole body seemed thicker. His lats were spreading out behind him. While we were opening gifts he had obtained that V shape. He did about a dozen reps before he set the box down.
“We thought a home weight set would be a happy compromise,” said my dad.
“Thanks, dad,” sad Josh ripping open the second large box. It was a weight bench. “But those weights… I’m probably going to need some bigger ones, and an Olympic size bar too. Maybe you could take the others back?”
“Sure, I guess we could.” Then mom gathered up all the torn wrapping paper and dad excused himself. I couldn’t help myself. I had to know. I ripped back the paper on the weight set. Holy crap. It was supposed to have 250 pounds of weights in it. Minus the ten pounder that fell out, that meant Josh had been curling 240 pounds for reps. Damn.
Mom bundled the debris into a trash back and hustled it out of the room. Josh looked over my shoulder at the weight box and laughed.
“250 pounds? Fuck, that felt like nothing.” He swallowed another one of his pills. "Dude, when this is done, I'm going to so much more than huge. I'm going to be gigantic. I can feel it. And you get to watch it happen, inch by inch by inch." Then he treated me to a short bit of posing. Christ, he looked completely pumped. He was bodybuilder size now. Every bit as big as the amateurs we’d seen at the exhibition that summer. I remember how impressed he’d been with #27’s legs. Even through his sweats I could tell his legs were now bigger, and I think he was taller too.
And when he flexed his bis, damn if they didn’t have split heads and peaks, peaks that weren’t there when he’d flexed at breakfast.
“Shit, bro, I can’t tell you how good this feels,” he said, admiring his arms. “I feel so fucking hot," he said, rubbing his bulging bicep. "If you only knew…” Jeeze, he was starting to get to me, because I was starting to want to know.
Then he hoisted up the box with the weight bench. “I’m going to set this up in the garage,” he said. Then he turned and walked easily from the room.
I leaned over to get a better look at the weight set. Maybe it really wasn’t 250 pounds. I grabbed the box to turn it on its side, but I could hardly move it. If I put everything I had into it I could slide it across the floor, but that was it. Crap. I couldn’t believe it. How strong was Josh?
Then I heard the sound of voices from the driveway. I looked out the window and saw Josh talking to Will Jansen. He must be home from college for the holiday. Will was our next door neighbor. He was a couple of years older than me and I’d had a crush on him since I was old enough to have a crush on anyone. He was about six feet tall with light brown hair, chiseled features, and amazing blue/green eyes. He’d had a pretty good build in high school ’cause he played soccer, but now he was looking a little small. Then I suddenly realized he looked small because he was standing next to Josh. My little brother was taller and broader than him. He was out there stuffed into a hoody. It was one of his, but it was obviously way too small for him now. His wrists were sticking out of the sleeves and the bottom row of his six pack was clearly visible, not to mention all that muscle bulging up through the fabric.
I cracked the window so I could hear better. I had to know what they were saying.
“I can’t believe you’re little Josh,” said Will. “It seems like only yesterday you were a scrawny little kid.”
“Yeah, it does seem like that, doesn’t it?” grinned Josh.
“How much are you benching?” he asked.
Josh looked puzzled for a minute before he just shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can curl 250 pretty easy.”
“No shit.”
Then Josh flexed, and his magnificent bicep erupted from his arm, stretching his sleeve.
“Dude,” gasped Will. And I recognized the look on his face. It was lust. I think Josh noticed too.
“You want to feel it?” he asked.
For an answer, Will stuck his hand out and squeezed it. “Oh fuck,” he whispered.
“Hey, I’m about to set my new bench up in the garage,” said Josh. “You want to help?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Will and then the two of them disappeared into the garage.
I jumped up, got dressed, pulled on my coat and ran outside. I went to the side of the garage and quietly as I could peeked into the window.
The bench was mostly set up and Josh and Will were naked on top of it. Will was on the bench, lying on his stomach—he was as beautiful as I knew he would be—and Josh was looming over him, moving up and down with a slow rhythmic motion.
Christ, it was one of my midnight fantasies, my fantasy that my little brother was living out. Only he wasn’t exactly my little brother anymore. Just looking at the enormous horseshoe popping out of the back of his arm as he pushed himself up and down, and those ponderous pecs flaring out in front of him, and his perfect bubble butt and…holy crap, Josh’s cock had gotten just as mammoth as the rest of him.
I could hear Will yelling, “Yes, Josh, that’s it. Harder, further. I can take it.”
Damn. I was suddenly so fucking hard, I had to get out of there. I ran into the bathroom, ripped off my clothes and jumped into the shower. In a second I had exploded all over the shower wall. I stood there trying to catch my breath, and trying not to think about what was going on in the garage. But it was useless. Five minutes later I was blowing another load.
I left the shower about a half an hour later feeling completely drained. I walked back to my room and looked out the window just in time to see Will leave the garage with a big smile on his face.
I waited patiently for Josh to come in, but a half an hour passed and there was no sign of him.
“We’re going over to Aunt Sally’s,” called my mom, “But you guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Good, ’cause I didn’t want to. And then they were gone. I waited another half hour but then I had to see what Josh was doing out there.
I pulled on my jacket and went out to the garage. It had started snowing, pretty hard. As I paused outside, I could hear the clanking of metal mixed with Josh’s guttural grunts. What was he doing? Was he working out? That 250 pounds couldn’t be anything to him.
I pulled open the door and just stopped in my tracks. There was Josh, lying on the bench. It looked ridiculously small for him, like only a small central strip of his massive back was supported, while the rest of him was hanging off the edges. His arms, damn, his arms were so huge, they could have easily have been mistaken for someone legs. And they were pumping up and down, up and down as they bench pressed our snow blower. Damn that thing was so heavy that even though it was on wheels I couldn’t move it unless the motor was running. It had to be seven or eight hundred pounds easy.
“Holy shit,” I said. It was the understatement of the decade.
Josh mush have heard me because he tossed the bower into the air and caught it in his arms as he sat up. He sat up with the blower cradled in his arms. How the hell could he do that?
“Hey, bro,” he said, “I was just thinking about you.” Without getting up, he set the snow blower on the ground next to him. “Will was just here. You remember Will, don’t you?”
Fuck, he was massive. My brother was massive. That hoody was stretched to its limits. Already the cloth had been stretched so thin in places—like around his shoulders and biceps—that you could clearly see his skin underneath. His giant pecs had forced the front zipper down about half way. You couldn’t close that thing now if your life depended on it.
“Yeah, I remember Will,” I said, swallowing. “How is he?”
“Oh, he’s a lot better now.”
“Oh?” I tried to sound disinterested.
“Cut the crap, bro. I’m on to you. I’ve been on to you for years.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are so pathetic,” he said. “I’ve seen you drooling after Will since you were in the eighth grade.”
“What?”
“I thought you might finally tell me last summer at the exhibition, but you were too chicken shit to do it then either. Even though it had to be pretty fucking obvious I swung the same way.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, the only difference is that I told mom and dad a year ago. And you know what? They were ok with it. They just wanted me to hold off telling you until you had left for college, you know, in case you didn’t take it well. I almost told them about you right then, but I didn’t.”
“You knew?”
“For years, bro, for years. And the truly pathetic part is you love this body.” And then he stood up. HOLY CRAP! He was a least 6’ 5” or 6’ 6”, and he was so wide, it was a good thing we had a two car garage. He flexed those mighty guns of his and the hoody just couldn’t take it anymore. It split apart releasing those swelling mounds of rock hard flesh into the open. “Oh yeah, oh fuck yeah,” he said, grinning at his monstrous biceps, and then he flexed his pecs and the zipper was pushed all the way to the bottom and the hoody pulled open wide, revealing a mountain range of abs. Then he started clenching and unclenching his stomach, making his gargantuan abs swell and pop out at me.
“You’d love to have a body just like this, wouldn’t you?”
I didn’t know what it was, but suddenly I couldn’t speak.
“Don’t deny it. Not now.”
“Yes,” I finally gasped. “I’d love a body like that.”
“You could have one,” he said. “But you can’t be chicken shit about it. You have to fight for it. Go to the gym, ease up on the debate team stuff. If mom and dad try to stop you, don’t let ’em. Don’t be chicken shit.”
“I’m not chicken shit.”
“Yes you are. You’ve been chicken shit your whole life. Mom and dad walk all over you. You don’t even know who you are, what you want. Otherwise you’d be the one standing here bulging all over with muscle. You’d be the one going over to Will’s tonight after his parents go out. It’d be you. But it’s not, and it’s because you’re chicken shit.”
Holy crap, he was right. Could I really be that much of a loser?
“Hey, bro,” he said, his voice suddenly coming a lot softer, “I hate to be so hard on you it’s just that I don’t like seeing you so unhappy.”
“What can I do,” I said.
“You want some advice?” he asked. “Be true to yourself, go after what you want, and the rest is bullshit.”
Then he pulled the remains of his hoody around him. “Sorry, dude, I’d love to stay and talk some more, but I gotta get going. Will is waiting.” Then he left.
I sat there in the garage for a few minutes just looking at the bench, the snow blower and all the other junk.
Then I got up and went back into the house to wait for mom and dad to get home. When they did, I had something to tell them.
When the moment came, I didn’t really feel all that brave doing it, because my little brother had already blazed the trail, and I was pretty much assured there wouldn’t be hysterics. And there weren’t.
The storm continued into the night. We were probably going to be snowed in the next day. That was ok, I had a pretty good idea who would be really good with the snow blower.
I waited up for Josh to come home. He finally did about 11:45. He was wrapped in a quilt. I guess it was the only thing that would cover him at this point. He had to be close to seven feet tall. He had to bend his head and twist to get in through the door. And as he was squeezing through, I could hear the door frame creaking in protest. His muscles were beyond anything I’d ever imagined. No one could possibly be as big as my little bro. He had arms like tree trunks, his chest, two massive striated mounds. He legs were was wide around as two grown men.
He stood there towering over me, dwarfing me with his ponderous mass. I felt like a child confronting an elephant. He took a step into the room and the whole house shook. He pratically filled the room all by himself. He took another step in, looked down at me and then stopped short.
“Hey, bro,” he said, grinning. “Almost didn’t see you down there. Glad you’re still up. What do you think? I turned out pretty good, didn't I?” He put his hands on his hips and made his lats flair out wide and suddenly we had wall to wall Josh.
"Jeeze, Josh, You did it. You're freakin’ huge.”
"No, dude, I'm fucking gigantic. Those guys we saw posing last summer? I thought they were so hot." He laughed. "They’re like little girls next to me now." He flexed his arm and his bicep exploded out of him, a tremendous mass of rippling, bulging, sinew the size of a football helmet covered by thick ropey veins, with a peak as big as both my fists put together. "Oh man," he said, "seein that never gets old." My heart practically stopped. “And it feels awesome," he said, "so much better than I imagined. Dude, you wouldn't believe how strong I am." Then he leaned over and licked his peak, before he let his arm drop to his side. Christ, I felt the wind of it.
“You were out late,” I said, suddenly finding my voice again.
“Yeah, a snow plow broke down out front. It needed a tow. Made a good workout. Kind of cold, though.”
“I told them,” I said.
“And…?”
“It’s fine.”
“Good for you, bro. You know I’ll always be there for you.”
“I know.” I reached up and I gave him a hug. Jeeze, forget about getting my arms around him, it was like hugging a cement wall.
“Well,” he said when we parted. “It’s almost midnight.” He pulled out the pill bottle and shook it. “Still four left.”
“Since they’re only good on Christmas Day, how about letting me have a couple?”
“I could, bro, but to you they’d only be candy.” Then he shrugged. Jeeze, I felt the wind of that, too. “I think I’m big enough. Here,” he said handing me the bottle. “But you’ve still got a long way to go before they’ll do any good.”
I took the bottle and briefly contemplated swallowing them all in one gulp. But instead I put them in my pocket. “Maybe by next Christmas,” I said.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Maybe by then.”
The next day, after a trip to the tailor, we took Josh to the doctor. He had topped off at 6’ 11” and he weighed five hundred and twelve pounds. No one could explain his growth. However all the doctors agreed he was in perfect heath, in fact they couldn’t believe how good his health was.
The first day back at school, Josh was all anybody talked about. I got bombarded with questions which mostly I side stepped. I finally escaped down to the cafeteria for lunch only to have my best friend Sean, sit down next to me.
“So, what’s the deal with your bro?” he asked.
“He grew,” I said.
“Damn right, he grew. They can’t figure out if they should put him on the football team, the basketball team or make him his own team.”
“Change the subject,” I said.
“Why?” He asked.
“I've been talking about Josh all day and I'm tired of it. Change the subject.”
“Ok, he said. “Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?”
“No,” I said.
“Really?” he said. “What do you want?”
“I wanna get huge.”
END?