Muscle Fantasy Island 6
by Londonboy
George Changes.George, the pilot, opened his eyes and the first thing that registered in his post-sleep brain was a wonderful feeling south of his waistline – he was hornier than a group of twenty college boys engaged in a circle jerk. His blood was pumping waves of intense pleasure to every part of his body – but the main focus seemed to be in his deceptively large tool. George had always been proud of the ample package that had been passed down through his family’s gene pool. He also realized his senses were on some kind of heightened alert – helping to fuel his strong desire for sexual release. Somehow, George knew his body was improved the second he became conscious of anything, but how it was altered was not clear. In a flash, his dream from the night before came flooding into his memory. His two hands slid beneath the sheet and grabbed hold of his hardening meat. He started slowly pumping the big prick as he thought back on the visuals from his deep sleep.
In his dream George was being cruised at some kind of formal event by a very young and very pumped Bob Paris – one of the most handsome bodybuilders of all time, in his humble opinion. Both gentlemen were in tuxedos and it seemed that everywhere George turned there was the massive Mr. Paris. George squeezed the hard throbbing beef in his hands tightly – mainly because he had always lusted after this particular gay bodybuilder - like an alley cat in heat. The pages of his copy of ‘Duo,’ by Herb Ritts, had many pages wrinkled by saliva that had dripped there as George stared at the pictures in bed – or remnants of other sticky liquids that caused the pages to distort even more. It made him feel like he was some kind of thirteen year old going through puberty, but he didn’t care – Bob Paris was definitely muscle perfection. He returned to the events of his dream. It seemed that the muscled stalker had finally gotten the nerve to speak to George when they were both at the bar.
“That tux looks good on you,” Paris said, showing his perfectly straight white teeth as he smiled.
“That tux looks strained on you,” George confidently sent back.
“Yeah, it’s a little tight,” said Bob, laughing slightly. “It’s hard for me to find clothes that fit – even when I have them tailored. I just seem to still be growing all the time.”
“I could see how that might be a big problem,” George answered, leaning closer to the other man. “You don’t want to bust out of your clothes just anywhere, now do you?”
“It depends,” Bob replied, “would that turn you on?”
“Right now what would turn me on most is a kiss,” George responded with surprising boldness.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Bob said and then brought his face into George’s.
Remembering all the details of the dream – especially how Bob’s huge frame pushed on the material of his tuxedo in a way that made it look like it was screaming for release – caused George’s cock to explode as soon as he imagined kissing the big bodybuilder. The thought of feeling that guy’s warm full lips pressed up against his own was just too much. George allowed his thick cum to shoot up between his stomach and the sheets – too overcome with pleasure to care about making a mess. His sphincter and balls tensed up powerfully each time his thick cock spewed man-lava from its hole. Even with his body being tight from the orgasm, George could feel the warm cum sliding down his sides and filling his belly button like it was some kind of deep pool. As a matter of fact, George was amazed at how he could feel what seemed like every drop of his juice as it started to harden against his skin. It was unbelievable – George’s sense of touch seemed to be on overdrive in some way.
At that same moment the man also heard light footsteps outside of his bungalow and smelled something that faintly resembled cologne. There came a knock on his door a few seconds later. George did not want to disturb his comfortable position in bed. He pulled his cum covered hands out from underneath the sheets and propped his body up with some pillows – making sure all his private parts were covered.
“Um . . . yeah, come on in,” he called out.
The door opened and after one look at the guy entering the room with a tray of food, George’s mouth dropped wide open. The perfect specimen that walked in looked exactly like a young Bob Paris. The sight caused George’s now flaccid cock to shoot instantly hard again and suddenly he could smell the cologne the guy was wearing even more. George was amazed he had been able to smell it when the man was outside. The guy stopped suddenly after making it a few steps into the room. He stared at the man in bed with a surprised face that matched George’s. Something had grabbed the delivery boy’s gaze, too. George looked down and saw that the sheet stuck to his body in several places and the outline of what seemed like a ton of cum was clearly marked. His cock was also displayed obscenely through the wet material. A wave of embarrassment flew through George’s body, but then he decided to just ignore the obvious mess – figuring if he didn’t say anything neither would the worker.
“Uh . . . yeah, well you can just set that over there on the table,” George said, motioning to the little dining table with two chairs.
“Thank you, sir. My name is Robert and I’ve brought you a note from Dr. Slevin, too,” the olive skinned brow-haired beauty replied.
The guy’s name was not lost on George – it made him smile. The big man put the tray on the table and then grabbed the note – to bring it to George. When Robert got about three feet from the edge of the bed something happened to him – it almost looked like some kind of slight seizure. His hand went up to his head and he stopped abruptly. His entire body teetered a little, like he might fall over, and then it was over. He took a few more steps and then handed the note to George – but there was now something very different about the beefy man. George opened the note and totally missed the sudden change in Robert. In the note, Dr. Slevin reminded his guest that he would not complete his transformation until the next twenty-four hours and then he wrote that George should not panic about what he would probably see as no change at all to his body. This line made George look down at his own chest and arms – noting that it was still basically the physique of a forty-nine year old that barely worked out. The pilot felt a little disappointment, but that went away when he read the next line. It said that George would begin to notice differences throughout the day and then the final transformation would happen that night. Dr. Slevin ended by telling him to go out and have a fun day on the island.
“Um, can I do anything else for you, sir?” asked Robert – causing George to re-focus on the big man standing near the bed.
“No . . . no, that’s it for now, Robert. Thank you,” George replied.
“I could give you a massage sir,” Robert said and it sounded almost like he was pleading. “Many have said I’m the best masseuse at the chateau.”
“Uh, wow, thanks Robert – but not now,” replied George – taken aback by the sudden offer. “Maybe later.”
“Yes sir. Shall I come back in about an hour?” asked Robert – with an even more desperate tone in his voice.
“No, no, that’s fine,” George answered still kind of missing the hidden plea in Robert’s question. “I’ll call if I want one and I promise to ask for you.”
This seemed to please Robert, but it was obvious he still didn’t’ want to leave. He glanced around the room like he was looking for something to do. George was re-reading the note and missed all the inner turmoil happening to the big man beside the bed. A thought popped into Robert’s head when he noticed the tray.
“I could bring the food to you, sir,” Robert said as he began to move toward the table across the room. “I could even feel you if you want me to.”
As soon as the well-built man reached the table there was another sudden change in his demeanor. It was like he became dazed or confused in some way. Again, George missed it because he was trying to make sense out of Dr. Slevin’s comments concerning noticing differences to his body throughout the day. He actually completely missed the fact that the Bob Paris look-a-like had just offered to feed him his breakfast. Robert stared at the table and at the tray as if he were trying to figure out what it was – or what he was doing.
“I . . . um . . . I guess everything is here . . . um, sir,” Robert mumbled – trying to figure out what he had intended to do. “I’ll . . . I’ll leave you . . . to your . . . um . . . well, have a good breakfast, sir.”
“Yes, I will,” answered George, finally looking up from the note and smiling at the young man. “I’ll call you later if I want a massage.”
“What’s that sir?” Robert asked.
“You know,” he said – looking at the guy strangely, “you offered to give me a massage later today – if I wanted one.”
“Oh wow, did I?” asked Robert, completely confused. “That’s strange – cause I’m all booked up. Well, maybe another day. Um, I must get going. Have a good day sir.”
Robert left the room quickly – obviously completely confused and very nervous. George simply thought the guy’s behavior was par for the course – a guy that big and beautiful had to be a total ditz. It didn’t matter, though, if you have muscles like that, is what George thought to himself as he peeled the sticky sheet from his body. The dried cum made a sound similar to pulling off duck tape as the material separated from George’s skin. As he got out of bed George suddenly noticed that he heard his own heartbeat pumping incredibly fast in his chest. He was surprised at how hard it was beating and figured it was because he just stood up too quickly. If he had not been in a hurry to eat he might have noticed that his own heart was thumping normally, but that Robert leaned against the other side of the door to the bungalow totally freaked out about something. George was somehow totally in tune with everything going on inside of Bob Paris’ big twin – even through the heavy wooden door.