Hulkster and Hoppy

by Also Known As

 Jeremy “Hoppy” Hopkins and Alexander “The Hulkster” Hogan were best friends in high school, but at the twenty-year reunion, the Hulkster discovers what Hoppy has been up to all those years in-between.

Added: Feb 2021 Updated: 10 Jul 2021 118,666 words 18,712 views 5.0 stars (51 votes)

Contents (23 parts, 3 new)
Part 1 Jeremy “Hoppy” Hopkins and Alexander “The Hulkster” Hogan were best friends in high school, but at the twenty-year reunion, the Hulkster discovers what Hoppy has been up to all those years in-between. (added: 27 Feb 2021)Part 2Part 3 Unsure how Hoppy’s altered form will affect the outcome, Hoppy and Hulkster succumb to their mutual lust. (added: 6 Mar 2021)Part 4Part 5 Hulkster and Hoppy continue to enjoy their reactivated relationship, and to explore Hoppy’s newly augmented talents and strengths with the Hulkster as his very motivated tutor. (added: 13 Mar 2021)Part 6Part 7 As Hulkster and Hoppy find new ways to give each other pleasure, Hulkster discovers things about Hoppy&rsquo’s transformation he definitely wasn’t expecting. (added: 20 Mar 2021)Part 8Part 9 The time has finally come for Hoppy to be inside him, and Hulkster discovers that being fucked by his growing friend is even better than fucking him. (added: 27 Mar 2021)Part 10Part 11 Ned the bellhop gets off shift and returns to Hoppy and Hulkster’s penthouse suite, and this time he gets more than an eyeful of Hoppy’s increasingly amazing everything. (added: 3 Apr 2021)Part 12Part 13 Hulkster coaxes Hoppy into seeing what it feels like taking charge, and all three of them enjoy the results—and Hoppy’s renewed growth. Ned admits to having a muscle crush of his own, while Hoppy reveals more about why he invited Hulkster to meet. (added: 10 Apr 2021)Part 14Part 15 Moze shows up, even hotter than advertised, and, after a night spent in delirious fucking, the four men talk about how Moze got to be so muscled and spend some time exploring Hoppy’s apparent ability to slather his libido all over the other guys. (added: 17 Apr 2021)Part 16Part 17 As Hulkster takes stock of what’s changed in his life already and what is yet to come, he encounters the hotel’s unflappable concierge, Carter. Meanwhile, Hoppy grows as he naps, and his ability to arouse his friends only keeps increasing. (added: 8 May 2021)Part 18Part 19 Hulkster tests Hoppy’s ability to cum and give him pleasure and exceeds expectations. Hoppy’s newly tailored duds make him impossibly sexy, but Hulkster pries himself away to attend the reunion where he finds that at least some of his former teammates are a little more open-minded than they’d used to be. (added: 22 May 2021)Part 20Part 21 At the reunion, Hoppy grabs the attention of three of Hulkster’s college teammates. (added: 19 Jun 2021)Part 22Part 23 The final chapter sees ex-bully Barry initiated into the group, while Hoppy and Hulkster chart the pleasures yet to come for both of them. (added: 10 Jul 2021)
I
I had not intended to show up for my twenty-year high school reunion. High school itself had not been a positive experience for me for a variety of reasons, and it was certainly not something I wanted to relive. We all move on and lose track of even our best friends from those years, and in my case I had tried my best to forget about the trials and tribulations of my late teen years.

But there was one exception to my… let’s call it deep hesitation bordering on dread about seeing some of those faces again and reliving the little nightmares visited upon me as a young gay man who couldn’t hide inside my closet very well. Funny how our browser histories can come back to haunt us just because we left our phones somewhere and someone thought it would be hilarious to broadcast my visits to sites dedicated to the glorification of the muscular male form.

At first I tried covering up by explaining that I was just doing research into improving my body for athletics. I was, after all, the captain of the football team and one of the shining stars of the athletics department. But even the team captain isn’t beyond the scope of some good, old fashioned high school homophobia and it was pretty obvious by the…nature of the sites and images that my interest wasn’t strictly concerned with making my gym time pay off.

But back to that exception I mentioned. His name was—is—Jeremy Hopkins. We were best friends, based mostly on a long shared school history going all the way back to sixth grade. Like most boys, we started off friends because of some shared interests like video games and watching Animaniacs and the Olympics in Lillehammer and how fucking crazy it was to watch O.J. Simpson’s slow motion escape in that famous Ford Bronco.

As we grew up together, our paths started to diverge, but we stayed friends through it all. I was the sporty one, going out for every team and spending my afternoons on the playing fields, throwing and catching a variety of balls. Jeremy, or Hoppy as I called him (and he started calling me Hulk because, like a certain professional wrestler we both admired, my last name is Hogan and my first name, Alexander, was a mouthful) was the classic nerd. Hoppy was so smart that while I was lining my shelf with sports trophies and accolades, his was filled with medals from science contests and math competitions.

The other thing that set us apart, and glued us together, was that we were both shy with the girls. I, of course, had my own reasons for that, but then again I was the sports hero who was expected to be laying pipe with every cheerleader on the squad. He had his own reasons, I suppose, but maybe it was that while my body began to grow like a weed in high school, mostly because I was determined to look like all those beautiful, muscular naked men that I was jerking off to every night in secret silence, Hoppy stayed small. Like, really small.

It was as if he couldn’t grow muscle if his life depended on it. Instead, his small bookish frame grew soft and flabby, almost like the opposite mirror to my own development. By the time we graduated, I was six-one and weighed in, even as an 18-year-old, at over 200 pounds.

Like I said, I loved the gym and it loved me back.

But I also loved Hoppy. He was my best friend, particularly after “the phone incident” as we started referring to it. Everyone else pretty much abandoned me, but Hoppy was always there, making jokes about the idiots who taunted me and impressing me with his big brain.

I hadn’t heard from him in those twenty years since and hadn’t much thought about him for the last ten. My college experience was leagues better than what happened to me in high school—I guess big cities and their metropolitan outlooks and modern-thinking populations do have a lot more to offer than small town gay bashers—and I wanted to forget high school, which meant forgetting Hoppy too.

So it was both shocking and surprising when I got an email out of the blue from an address I didn’t recognize. If I hadn’t checked my junk message folder after missing an Amazon receipt for something I didn’t even remember ordering I never would have read it in the first place:

Hey Hulkster,
 
You probably don’t remember me, but this is Jeremy Hopkins, or Dr. Hopkins as I’m now formally known. We attended Lakeside High way back in the dark ages in that podunk town I’m sure we’re both happy to have said our goodbyes to. Which brings me to the reason for this email. I don’t know if you saw it, but our alma mater is celebrating the 20th anniversary of getting rid of Hoppy and the Hulk and believe it or not, I’m writing this in hopes of convincing you to attend. Weird, I know, but I have my reasons. Google my name and you might figure some of those reasons out. Anyway, I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Me Googling you to get this email address on LinkedIn shows me you’ve got your own busy life.

I could hear his voice clearly in those few sentences, and all of the sudden a wealth of memories and their accompanying emotions started flooding back.

The first thing I did was Google him, curious both about what his reasons were for going back to that town and school that neither one of us had the happiest memories about, and also just to catch up and see what Hoppy had been up to.

My own life was admittedly rather mundane, which was how I liked it. Having experienced a great deal of fame and infamy in high school due to my sports prowess and “the phone incident,” wasn’t anxious to continue that streak. I’d had some success with sports in college, which after all had been mostly paid for with a football scholarship, but I was now a software developer and one of those start-ups in the Bay Area where being a gay man was almost a boon to my success rather than an embarrassment.

I’m proud to say that I never stopped going to the gym, though. My love and admitted worship of muscle never abandoned me, and although I was no longer a hormone-filled gay teen channeling my sexual frustration into throwing iron around, I still treated the gym as my personal church.

Plus, let’s face it, there was no better cruising ground in the city.

Plugging ‘Jeremy Hopkins’ into Google provided a ton of different Jeremys to investigate, but adding in his doctorate—which, you know, fuck yeah Hoppy, way to go!—zeroed in on his info pretty precisely. And what I read, and particularly what I saw, made my attendance at the reunion inevitable.

That little fat kid I grew up with had not just one or two doctorates, he had Ph.D.’s in biology, chemistry, and genetics, which I didn’t even know was a thing. He, like me, had joined the gold rush into tech and started a couple of companies dedicated to health and the human genome, like that other more famous DNA company but without the huge marketing push, I guess, since I had never heard of either company. But he was so successful that the fucker retired a multi-millionaire at the age of thirty and was using his stacks of bills supporting human aid causes and all sort of Bill Gates-ish shit.

Because of course he would! The one thing Hoppy never lacked was heart. The dude was picked on mercilessly for his stature and weight and a rather long year when his face was covered in pimples, but he somehow always kept a positive attitude and that helped me through my own troubles, which as I considered them then reading his professional history made me feel rather silly.

Then I saw his picture.

If I was shocked and surprised before that moment, out was nothing compared to what I felt, emotionally, physically, and even sexually when I looked at that picture.

Oddly, there was only one image of Dr. Jeremy Hopkins on the whole of the internet. It was just a headshot, from his shoulders up, wearing a navy suit and matching tie, making me think this was something official and professional. He wasn’t really smiling in the image, but he wasn’t not smiling either. And I recognized Hoppy immediately, the same blue eyes sparkling with humor, the same stoic look to his brow, the same full lips and squat nose.

But he was—he was not just handsome, he was…. he was….

I wasn’t sure when the picture was taken, but he looked to be in his early 20s. His features were unlined with wrinkles and his hair was showing no signs of thinning, unlike my own. I always considered myself a rather good looking guy and I certainly never had any problems hooking up, but I think I gasped out loud and even felt a tightening in the crotch of my jeans looking at that small headshot on my laptop screen.

It was as if he had bloomed, or emerged from some cocoon and been changed to a butterfly from a caterpillar. His jaw was firm and square, the structure of his face was angular and powerful. He looked…like a man. Like the manliest man I had ever seen. He looked….

He looked like a man I wanted to fuck. Hard. And for a really long time, just so I could ride his ass and look into those eyes and kiss those lips. I had an instant and incredibly strong attraction to Dr. Jeremy Hopkins, Ph.D., and I determined immediately that whatever it meant and whatever it took, I was going to my class reunion.


I wrote him back to express my surprise and shock, as well as my intention to follow his advice and attend. I wasn’t sure if I should compliment his looks or not. He probably heard it all the time, in the way that beautiful people’s looks are often the focal point of any conversation with them. But he was like if Brad Pitt had sex with Henry Cavill and somehow from this union, Hoppy popped out. I mean, I’m a bit ashamed to admit it but I copied that headshot into my phone and used it to stroke out more than a few thick shots of cum in the company men’s rooms.

I mentioned something like “it looks like you’re spending as much time in the gym as you do in the labs” or something stupid like that. I was only imagining a body I couldn’t really see based on the set of that masculine jawline and the thickness of his neck and the width of his shoulders. My imagination has always been rather colorful, and in my head Hoppy was like some Photoshopped ideal of the perfect male specimen, all thick muscle and massive glutes and fat cum-filled balls poised beneath a cock so thick and long that I would gag trying to force it down my throat.

His responses were polite and humorous—Hoppy was still Hoppy—and he sounded genuinely pleased and excited that I would agree to go back to our hometown to see him again. We caught up a little in a few emails (and God how I wanted to ask him to send me more photos but I didn’t want to seem as desperate and I felt, not to mention it was more than a little stalkery) as we both explained that neither of us had ever “settled down”—me because I was a horndog with an unbridled taste for new ass, a muscular body and a face that looked good on gay fuck apps, and a dick that never deflated, him because he was “just too busy with work” and he was still mostly shy, he said, though with his stupidly beautiful face haunting my dreams I had a hard time thinking no one had gotten past those walls.

We shared what we’d been up to, how our lives had diverged and meandered in the intervening years. Mine sounded quite dull compared to his. He was modest about his accomplishments and I had the good taste not to bring up the fact that he was a fucking multi-millionaire with homes on every continent and a private jet waiting to take him wherever he wanted to go, at least according to an old Forbes article detailing some of his accomplishments when he announced he was starting a fund to end starvation and poverty because he was fucking Hoppy and he couldn’t not do nice things for other people.

He’d used his three doctorates wisely, and he mentioned that the last thing he was working on was the latest meditech fad about prolonging life and overcoming the human genome’s faults. “I made a lot of progress that I was pretty satisfied with,” he wrote, in his typically understated manner.

He mentioned that he wanted to show me something, he wanted my opinion about a new project he was undertaking and that I, for some reason, was the one person in the world he most wanted to share it with. I like mysteries and I liked Hoppy so I said I would happy and proud to offer whatever I could, though I doubted that I was in any position, as a lowly software engineer (with, I did not add, a killer bod and talented dick that wanted very badly to kiss his lips and stroke his face and explore him like astronauts explored the moon) to be a better judge than his newer friends. He assured me that I was uniquely qualified, whatever that meant, so rather than keep denigrating myself I just accepted his mysterious invitation.

Suddenly I couldn’t wait to go back to the small town I swore I would never set foot in again, and only because I had to see this man, my best friend for a dozen years or more, in the flesh.

I had no intention of trying to seduce him. Far as I knew, Hoppy was straight and even if I had fantasies of drilling his hole with my drooling dick, I just wanted to see him again. In addition to feeling horned up like a bull, I missed my good friend. The only friend, really, who stuck with me through everything.

I think I had an erection the entire flight from one airport to the other, and also in the Uber to my hotel, and also inside my room when I opened the envelope that the front desk had waiting for my arrival.

It was a printed message from Hoppy.

Hey Hulkster,
 
Can’t wait to see you again. I really want to share this project with you. I hope you’ll find it interesting and beneficial. I was wondering if we could meet and I can get my hands on you in my room before the others? Call me dramatic but I want to have a reunion with my old best friend before I have to share you with your adoring fans, who will no doubt do their utmost to ignore the fact that they treated you so badly. You’re still the handsome football captain and the best friend I ever had. I’m in room 718, top floor. Just knock.
 
Hoppy

My dick throbbed and my balls tingled. I was even more than a little nervous about seeing him again. Our friendship had blossomed anew from the few emails we had been sharing, but I also had the man’s picture on my phone as my main jerk-off material. In a way, I was scared to go up there to meet him in person.

I pressed the elevator button but it took so long to respond that I used the stairs instead, vaulting up four floors two at a time. I stopped outside the door to Hoppy’s room, tried to compose myself, and rapped my knuckles against the door.

“Come in, Hulkster,” I heard a voice respond. It was a deep-sounding voice, a rumbling baritone. Hoppy’s voice as I remembered it from high school had been rather high and thin. I remember he could even sing like Dolly Parton when he wanted to.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open, saying “Hoppy? Long time no see!”

The room was empty, but that same voice spoke from the bedroom of what I assumed passed for a lavish hotel room in this small town. “Indeed,” it answered, and I assumed it was his voice I was hearing. I knew from his picture that he had changed somewhat in the twenty years since we had last seen each other, and wondered if my voice sounded as odd to his ears. “Can you stay there for a minute? I… I need to explain something first.”

I sat on the couch in the room and said, “Sure, I guess. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answered, “Everything is okay. But… I’m… I’m not sure how to start.”

“Hoppy, you know everything about me. You know how I feel about you, I hope. I mean, we haven’t spoken in years and probably that’s….”

“No, sorry, that isn’t what I meant. I trust you, of course. Like I wrote, there’s no one I trust as much as you.” That voice was starting to have a strange effect on me. It was deep and masculine, it was if a current of subtle power ran through its tone, a current of male power that entered my ear canal and licked my neck and rubbed my nipples and stroked my cock. It was like listening to a moan of pure sexual satisfaction.

“Thanks,” I answered. I adjusted my dick in my slacks. Did the room feel hotter?

“I… I told you about the genome project I was starting. Had started. I won’t bore you with the details, and I apologize for tricking you into coming.”

“You didn’t trick me.”

“So you were planning on showing up to our twentieth high school reunion on your own?” He laughed gently, and it sounded like boulders shifting.

“Are you all right? You’re starting to worry me. Just come out and….”

I never got to finish the sentence, because at that moment Dr. Jeremy Hopkins strode into the room where I was trying to maintain my calm without the sound how his voice making my cock rip its way out of my pants. And in that moment, in that second of time, the world as I knew it tilted on its side, opened its mouth, and started sucking my dick.

“Yes,” Hoppy said. “I’m all right. I’m actually… a lot more than all right.”

“Holy. Fuck.”

The man before me smiled and bit his full, sensuous bottom lip. There was the face that I had by now managed to pump out gallons of cum in worship to, and it was mounted on a body that made Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime look like a wimp.

Hoppy was wearing a dress shirt and slacks, like I was, but it was doing very little to disguise that he had become something close to the epitome of male perfection.

The shirt was almost absurdly tight against his upper body, which was bulging with thick, round masses of firm muscle. He had pecs, and I mean pecs. Two huge round globes pushing out from his chest, their peanut-sized nipples pushing quite noticeably against the material. His shoulders were a mile wide and his traps nearly kissed his earlobes. The sleeves were clinging so tightly to his massive arms that I could see the outline of thick veins traversing all that powerful brawn.

Scanning lower, he had narrow hips that accentuated the impossibly wide taper from his shoulders to his waist. A bulge of impressive size and astounding thickness pushed forward between his legs, and the slacks he had somehow managed to work over his massive quads were practically tearing themselves apart at the seams with every movement of his thick and powerful frame.

How many hours a day did he spend in a gym to get that body? How thick were those arms? How many abdominal bulges created that flat, rippled stomach? How huge were the pectoral masses doing their utmost to strain the buttons on his dress shirt attempting to hold them in? Even his nipples were impressive, shoving themselves like tiny dicks against the tight cotton.

“Hi, Hulkster.”

I came.

He watched as my body spasmed with pure and unavoidable sexual bliss and a dark stain swelled between my legs. “I thought that might happen,” he said, his sensuous mouth twisting into a small grimace.

I came again. Harder.

“Should I leave?”

“Fuck. Holy fuck. Oh fuck.”

“I’ll just….” He backed away slowly and the sensation of thick, overwhelming sexual power receded with him. “Um, sorry about that,” he said in his deep, powerful voice, and I pumped another warm, wet stream of cum into my shorts.

I was panting and sweating and my underwear was filled with sticky cream. I felt my balls tighten and my cock swell and knew another fat fountain was coming. “Jesus,” I said softly.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“What the… what the hell was… What just…?”

“Yeah, so, about that project I mentioned?” I wanted to come again at the sound of his voice. Just the sound of it. “The project is me.”
I was clutching at the cushions on the couch trying to regain my equilibrium. My head was spinning and my cock pulsed and my ass twitched. I felt like I had just pushed my should out of the end of my dick. I was embarrassed as hell and more than a little scared and wondered why I had lost control so suddenly and so entirely. “What do…you mean?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Holy fuck, does this happen a lot, Hoppy?”

“I’ve really missed you, Hulkster. Or should I just call you Henry now?”

“I like…” I gulped and sucked some air into my lungs. “I like when you call me Hulkster. I’ve missed that, though I guess I never realized it.”

“Me too,” he said softly. “I should have warned you.”

“Warned me about what?”

“It’s a long story.”

My cock was still throbbing and I thought about his picture on my phone. And how it couldn’t possibly match the absolute gorgeous sexy perfection of Hoppy in the flesh. “I think I can make the time.”

“Do you want to get cleaned up first?”

I looked down. “Probably?”

There was some movement in the other room and then I heard his muffled voice say, “Okay, it’s safe now. I’m in the closet.”

“I don’t… Don’t hide in the closet, Hoppy.”

“It’s just safer this way, believe me.”

I got up from the couch to look for the bathroom. I half-shouted so he could hear me. “So, I guess you should start with what just happened and why it just happened and can I just tell you that you’re possibly the most beautiful person on the face of the planet?” I felt a strange kind of heat as I walked through the bedroom where Hoppy had been waiting moments ago, like walking through warm passages of air except they were made of sex.

“I know,” he said, which surprised me. There was no humor in his reply, it sounded more like sadness or regret. “You look good too. Really, good, Hulkster.” When he said ‘really good’ his words seemed to penetrate my brain like a pang of electric passion.

I unzipped my pants and pushed them off my hips to examine the damage. My shorts were sodden with cum, as if someone squeezed a week’s supply of it out of my balls. “Fuck,” I said.

“You need some pants or something?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Does this happen so often that you bring extra pants just in case?”

“I just meant that you could wear a pair of mine.”

“And I was joking.” I kicked my shoes off so I could get out of my own pants. “This is stupid, you don’t have to stand in a dark closet while I clean myself up. It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked in the locker room back in school.”

“Are you sure?”

I thought about what had happened and although I totally wasn’t sure, I both felt bad that Hoppy felt the need to hide and equally horny that I wanted to look at that man again, even just to see if he had the same effect now that the shock of his intense beauty was past. “I’m not sure but this is going to be a weird reunion otherwise, don’t you think?”

He opened the closet door a crack and I could see one of his intense blue eyes peering out. “It’s… actually it’s kind of your fault.”

I turned towards him, wiping cum off my still-throbbing dick and buzzing ball sack and asked, “How in the world is this my fault, Hoppy?”

He kept peering through the crack. “Well, um, I mean, not entirely of course. But… did you have to be so handsome?”

“Look who’s talking.” He laughed again and my cock slapped against my belly. “Fuck,” I said, unintentionally, as another sudden shock of sex struck me.

“Sorry,” he repeated.

“Stop apologizing and just… would you come out of there please? This is too weird.”

The closet door opened slowly and he revealed his extraordinary and irresistible beauty to my eyes all over again. With each inch of the opening door’s exposure of his fully-clothed body, the sensation of sexual heat began to swell around me again. I started to breathe harder, like it was a physical exertion just to look at him. “Are you sure?” he asked again.

I swallowed thickly and felt my cock swell in my grip. “Maybe I should just leave my pants off.”

He shrugged. It was like watching a mountain range move. “Maybe?”

“What… what is happening?”

“The project,” he said, opening the closet door fully. “I wasn’t exactly sure this would happen but then you walked in looking like you look and I felt all these… Sorry, I shouldn’t blame you. This is all my fault.”

I was still holding my cock just looking at Hoppy who was standing about six feet away. The heat in the space continued to increase, and I felt trickles of sweat along my spine and between my butt cheeks. “What is all your fault?”

He sighed. I felt my balls tingle with desire. He was incredibly handsome, almost too handsome to look at, like looking at a dream. “I never intended… Never mind. Sorry, can you at least put that away? It’s incredibly distracting.”

“This is distracting?” I said, wagging my hard-on at him. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“I guess you have a point.” He looked down at my dick and licked his lips. “Are you going to ejaculate again?”

“Just say come. No one says ejaculate.”

“If I say… that word… it could have a rather dramatic effect.”

“If you say ‘come’?” He nodded. “If you merely say the word ‘come’ right now you’re telling me….”

“Come.”

I felt something like being shoved very hard by a potent and overpowering sensation of pure masculine sex overwhelm my soul. I heard him sigh and moan slightly but my eyes were closed from the intensity of the impact, a stroke of lightning had struck me in the libido with the power of a thousand suns. I grit my teeth and clenched my jaw. My toes curled and I nearly shouted with pure joy as I felt my cock swell massively in my hand and a fresh thick stream of cream shoved its way from my tingling balls. “Fuck,” I managed to say, while I felt my knees give out and I fell to the tile floor, pumping heavy volleys of cum until I had nothing left to pump.

I was leaning over, one hand on the floor and the other grasping my still throbbing dick. I was coated in sweat and had painted one wall with cream. I was breathing hard and felt both sexually euphoric and physically drained.

“Okay,” I finally managed to say, “I guess I deserved that.” I laughed despite my unique predicament and my head was spinning.

“Well, I did warn you.”

I looked up and he was still standing where he had been before saying that single word that had ‘a rather dramatic effect’ on me. “Does that happen often?”

“More often than I like, and less often than you’d imagine. I try not to let it. But controlling it with you around seems to be causing more of a challenge than I anticipated.”

“Not to let it? You can control that?”

“I can… mitigate it.” He licked his lips again. “Usually.”

“But not with me.”

Hoppy’s mountain range shifted again.

I sat back on my heels and held up a hand, “I’m just gonna try to stand up now. Please don’t say ‘come’ again.”

He smiled and I nearly came again anyway. “Okay. Should I go back in the closet?”

I shook my head. “No one should ever have to ask that question, metaphorically or otherwise.”

He laughed again and said, “I really have missed you, Hulkster.”

“Likewise,” I said. I regained my legs and started pulling my pants up before remembering why I pulled them down in the first place. “You said you had some pants?”

He nodded. “In my luggage. Next to the bed.”

I looked at his tall, wide, well-muscled frame and said, “Not sure they’re going to fit me. I’m pretty puny compared to you.”

“Almost everyone is,” he answered, matter-of-factly. “But I think it’s just safer if you cover up. This is a two-way street.”

“What is?”

“I know you’re attracted to me. But I’m… attracted to you too.”

“You are? Since when?”

“Since always, dummy.” My face must have registered my disbelief because he frowned and sighed. “Put some pants on before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious. If Hoppy could command me to come with a single word, what else could he do?

He smiled. “Use your imagination.”

I didn’t need to, I still had his picture on my phone and my imagination had been very active leading up to this meeting. “Can I get past you without, like, spontaneously erupting?” A sudden and unexpected look of hurt based quickly over his insanely beautiful features and he started moving back into the closet when I held up my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy tiger. I think I can manage to resist your charms for long enough to get out of the bathroom.”

He didn’t answer but that sad look struck me much harder than I expected. I had genuinely hurt him, it seemed.

But I did manage move around his massive, muscular frame—I was six-one, six-two in my shoes, and he had at least six inches on me—and grab his suitcase, finding a pair of gray wool trousers (34 waist and 42 leg for crying out loud!) and started working them up my legs. They had to have been tailored for his unusually proportioned body because the butt and crotch had a lot more room in it than my own pants. And glancing back at Hoppy standing in the door of the closet illustrated exactly why.

“Okay,” I said, sitting on the couch again. “The pants are on. You should be able to resist my overwhelming sexiness now.”

He remained standing in the bedroom doorway though, as if scared to venture closer. “I’m so glad you came,” he said. “Oops!”

I didn’t come this time. “Don’t worry,” I said, adjusting my throbbing but not erupting dick. “I guess context is important.” I looked him up and down again, trying to imagine what that body would look like naked. “I think you should explain what’s going on.”

“It’s going to sound crazy,” he said, “which is why I wanted to meet you in person. So you would understand and believe me.”

“The project?” I asked.

He nodded. “The project.”

“Can you sit down, Hoppy? I’m going to get a crick in my neck looking up at you. Just how tall…?”

“Six feet, ten inches this morning.”

“This morning?”

“Two hundred and eighty nine pounds.”

“This morning?” He nodded again. “So you’re….”

“Growing.”

“You’re growing.” Nod. “Taller.” Nod. “Bigger.” Shrug. “The project.”

“You no doubt remember what I looked like in high school.”

“You were the shortest kid in class at graduation.”

“And the fattest.”

My eyebrow arched. “Not anymore.”

“I only wanted to improve human lifespans. Eliminate disease, or at least reduce the human body’s resistance to it. But as I started playing with DNA I realized….”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Hoppy. What does ‘playing with DNA’ mean?”

“Exactly that,” he said. That voice of his, even when he was getting technical and decidedly not-sexy, was drilling into my libido. “I don’t have to explain DNA to you, obviously, you know what it is.”

“The building blocks.”

“Exactly. And we can now map the entire genome and discover what every pair or genes does, or can do. So the project was only meant to improve us—humans—to help us be better than we were. Avoid diseases, extend life. But I realized I could do more than fix things, I could improve them.”

“I feel like this is the conversation Frankenstein had with Igor at one point.”

“And I’m the monster.”

“Hoppy, you are not a monster. But it looks like you definitely have one hiding in your pants.” I smiled trying to lighten his mood. “Look, I get that you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he said.

“And that’s why you’re standing over there and hiding in closets? Because you’re not scared?”

“You saw what happens.”

“I’m okay, Hoppy.” He started to object. “I get to judge how I feel. And I’m okay. Now would you please sit down?” As I said these words to comfort him, a wave of that sex heat washed over me and I had to gasp and swoon.

“Sorry,” he said.

I regained my composure and sucked in a deep breath. “What is that?”

“Me. That’s me. I can’t help it. It’s… I mean, I could explain it in scientific terms but in effect I’m sort of… making sexual attraction a physical manifestation.”

Oh. “But what is it, exactly?”

He paused to gather his thoughts and sat down on the edge of the bed, which sagged under his weight. I couldn’t help but notice how the bulge between his legs because epically prominent. “After I started the project, when I began to apply its effects on my own DNA as a guinea pig, things—unintended things—began to manifest. I didn’t even realize it at first, because I was doing the experiments and research on my own, in my own lab. I wasn’t exactly following scientific protocol, but that’s my own fault. The results… the physical results, astounded me. And I wanted more.”

“The growing and… so on?” I motioned absently at his overburdened crotch.

He smiled proudly. “I didn’t realize what else I was altering, with no others around. And by the time I realized what I had done, it was too late.”

“You couldn’t… undo it?”

Hoppy shook his handsome head. “It was too complicated, like pulling a thread from something without realizing its full impact. And I hadn’t really considered going backwards. Once I was making real progress, once I started to see the results beyond the small measurable ones, I was astounded by what was happening. Just the physical changes at first. The steps involved… like I said, I started wanting to just improve some things, but the more I gained, the more I wanted to gain.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me the feeling.”

I smiled and raised one arm and tensed the biceps into swollen power. I worked hard on my body and it showed. Hoppy bit his bottom lip and reached one hand down to grasp the massive meat gathered in his crotch. He moaned slightly and the sensation of sexual heat swelled between us again. “Fuck,” I groaned.

“It’s something new.”

“Whuh…what is?” The heat was sensual and overwhelming.

“That broadcast of sexual desire.”

“Desire?”

He nodded.

“You… desire me?”

“Honestly, I desire everyone. All the time. It doesn’t stop. I crossed some threshold and I can’t go back. I always feel this way.”

“Horny?”

“Crude but correct. Remember being a teenager? Getting erections for no apparent reason, feeling aroused at the slightest provocation? It’s like that only… much stronger. And constant.”

“And I thought you were just happy to see me.”

He smiled his gorgeous, perfect smile again. “I am, Hulkster. I am.”

I felt that sensation again and realized that what he had said was entirely true. It was the sensation of desire. Of wanton, unbridled, unconfined desire. The feeling of being horned up but amplified and all-consuming.

He paused, but then he said. “I have always wanted you. I’ve wanted you since high school. I want you right now. I want you desperately. Intensely. Passionately.”

Hoppy always had a way with words. And as each expression of his lust passed between his thick and sensual lips, something struck me. That sensation of sex, of lust, of desire. The broadcast of sexual desire as he called it. I could feel it physically, how strongly he wanted me, how powerful his lust for me was.

“I’m scared of what might happen, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t.”

“What might happen?”

“I’m… not certain. But you’ve already seen what I can do. You’ve felt it. You’re feeling it now, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“It’s more powerful when we touch?”

“It’s overwhelming,” he said.

“How…? How…?”

He tiled his head slightly and looked away. The sensation abided somewhat without his gaze on me. “Think of it as a second puberty, to be extremely simplistic. The human body is constantly changing, growing, shedding dead cells, growing hair and nails. At some point much of that growth stops and we start aging. Teeth don’t get replaced. Skin starts to wrinkle and sag. Hair doesn’t come back as thickly as it once did.” He brushed his hand through his own mane of gorgeous, shining locks, light brown with golden threads, and I watched his biceps swell so large I thought his shirt would finally give way. “I simply devised a way for the body to continually replenish itself.” He glanced down at his own magnificence and sighed. “At first.”

“At first?”

His blue gaze met mine and I swooned again. My god, he was gorgeous. “It was a series of updates, of course, and my first tries were purely experimental.”

“On yourself.”

He nodded. “I wanted to keep this all secret, and the easiest way to do that was not to involve anyone else. And I’m…rich. As you probably know. So stocking a private lab with pretty much anything I wanted or needed was equally easy. As the founder of two of the most successful med-tech firms, any equipment I ordered wouldn’t be too closely monitored. No one was going to ask questions, but then something big happened and I had to kind of go underground.”

“What happened?”

His hand began to caress and explore his chest and belly and arms, moving across his swollen muscular contours with obvious pleasure. “This. Not all at once, and not quickly at first. I could feel something had changed, like some switch had been thrown, but I had managed by that time to make so make small changes to myself that I didn’t realize the extent of these changes until it was unavoidable. And, frankly, at first, I couldn’t believe what was happening. It made no logical sense, until I moved logic out of the equation.”

“You’re losing me.” As he had been moving his hands across his body, the sexual heat he was apparently producing was growing stronger. “And if you keep that up my dick’s gonna explode again. So unless you brought a lot more pairs of pants….”

He stopped caressing himself. “Apologies,” he said. “I sometimes forget.”

“You said you left logic out of the equation.”

“Right. So… so, this is theoretical and I don’t have any documentation to prove I’m right, but I think my emotional mind has been altered to not only provide my own emotional state, but to broadcast it outwards to others and change their emotional state as well. And as a side effect to that, I guess….”

“You guess?”

He nodded. “I guess that my physical body is now so attuned to my emotional state that the sensations of sexual pleasure, or sexual desire, or particularly sexual satisfaction now have a direct and powerful effect on my body.”

“What kind of effect?”

“Physically it seems to manifest as growth, muscular development, and a constant refinement of my appearance. It’s subtle, for the most part, but I’m sure you’ve noticed I look different than you remember.”

“My dick certainly attests to that,” I half-joked, but he laughed anyway.

“My body is constantly adjusting itself now. A second, prolonged puberty, like I said, a kind of refinement of sexual maturity if you will. And in order to satisfy my desires, which are incredibly strong, my physical form is continually refining itself to its utmost potential for attracting others.”

“You’re… getting more handsome?”

He smiled. “You don’t think so?”

“I always said you were cute and as I recall there were two or three girls interested in…”

“I wasn’t interested in girls,” he explained.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah.” He actually managed to blush. It made my cock throb and swell. “It was you I was interested in. It was always you.”

“I’m flattered,” I said, because I was. “But I never had a clue! We were always just Hoppy and the Hulk. Best friends.”

“I’m not blaming you or anything, Hulkster. High school was already confusing and I didn’t want to add to what you were already carrying. Plus, having seen what happened to you—and you were the football captain! Big man on campus! No way I was going to be able to deal with that. I’m just… sorry you had to do it alone.”

“I was never alone,” I said. “You were always there with me. And I’m well past that shit, Hoppy, so don’t worry about it. We were both kids.”

He smiled. “But we’re not kids anymore.”

I scanned his massive form and nodded. “No, we are definitely not kids anymore.”

There was a silence then as we considered each other anew. I caught his eyes scanning my body, lingering on my arms or my chest or my crotch. I took the opportunity to look at his, too, watching the material of his shirt and pants stretch to the breaking point stretched across his magnificence. “So, why am I really here, Hoppy?”

“If you let me,” he said, “I want to change your life forever.”

“And that’s the gist of it.”

“That’s… one hell of a gist.”

Hoppy smiled and I was almost getting used to the sensation of my dick constantly throbbing and tingling when he did that. He was trying to explain the ins and outs of how he came to be the epitome of masculine perfection sitting leisurely in front of me. Turns out the reason he was so puny in high school was genetic, and something he determined to overcome no matter how long it took him.

I never knew how much it bothered him, but there were health concerns involved, not to mention that if he had not found a solution to his “little problem” as he termed it his life expectancy was going to be severely curbed. So he managed to use that big fat brain of his to power his way through six years of medical training in half the time, and found that some of the byproducts of his investigations into male genetic development also happened to help out dudes who couldn’t get hard-ons, which as we all know is worth a fortune. Nobody doesn’t want boner pills, and his were both highly effective and had almost none of the side effects of the others.

Once the boner money started rolling it, and a shit-ton of money was pouring in, he pushed all of it—well, most of it into further research into his own personal challenges, and taking that research into places no one else had ever tried before. But as a result, he had to use himself as the sole recipient of the various trials, some of which he said were quite painful, but the most painful ones turned out to have the most successful results as well.

“Some of it was pretty… embarrassing, to be frank.”

“Embarrassing? Is that worse than incredibly painful?”

He smiled again, and my cock throbbed. “My penis experienced some rather dramatic changes.”

“Good changes or bad changes?”

He shrugged. It looked as if his muscles swelled larger rather than his shoulders had lifted. “At one point I was gaining half-an-inch a week.”

I swallowed hard. “You did what, now?”

He glanced down for a moment and his face colored. “I… intended to correct a few flaws. The boner pills, as you called them, taught me a lot about the human penis, erectile tissue, genital development and growth. Most of that depends on heredity, but when you unlock the genetics you can… play around a bit.”

I laughed slightly at his clinical description of making his dick bigger. His handsome eyebrows drew together curiously and I said, “Sorry, you just have a… Hoppy way of saying things.”

“I know, it can be off-putting.”

“It’s cute,” I said. He blushed again. “So, let’s see it.”

“What?”

“Your cock.”

His blush was very deep this time. “I… really?”

I nodded. “You always used to show your science projects to me.”

“I remember,” he replied, chuckling. His voice was so deep and powerful, even when he was speaking softly. “I always thought you were bored.”

“I get the feeling that seeing your inches-bigger dick isn’t going to bore me. If you’ll recall,” I said, pointing my thumbs at myself, “gay man sitting right here. Kinda into dicks.”

“I remember,” he said. Then he stood up and pulled in a deep breath. “This… feels weird.”

“What’s so weird about showing a dude you haven’t seen since high school your new, improved cock? Seems perfectly ordinary to me.”

“You’ve done this a lot?” One of his thick eyebrows arched. His eyes sparkled. Fuck, he was handsome.

It was my turn to shrug. “I’ve seen so many cocks in my life I’ve lost count. Asking another man I’m alone in a room with to show me his dick is actually one of the easiest things I do in life. Most guys… whoa! Jesus, Hoppy!”

He had unzipped his pants and pushed them off his hips as I was making small talk. Once I could see his underwear, the bulge that was swelling between his legs could be called, by anyone’s estimate, incredibly impressive. “Too big?”

“I mean… go ahead.”

“Go ahead and what?”

“Pull him out.”

“Oh. Okay.” He looked down and started to move his hand—which was large and masculine as well—towards the heavy, obvious bulge filled with his dick and balls. “Should I…?

“Dude. Just pull it out…holy fuck!” He dug his hand inside and hauled out inch after thick, mind-boggling inch of prick. It was firm and almost muscular looking, with a thick vein running its length and a tight cowl of foreskin hugging the mushroom head. He stood calmly before me with his cock hanging out over his shorts.

Now, I’d seen big cocks before. But what Hoppy owned was like another level higher than any other dick I’d ever seen. It was… beautiful. Gorgeous. Perfect. My mouth started watering just wanting to wrap my tongue around its thickness. I wanted to grasp it in my hands, to feel its weight, to stroke its velvety flesh and feel its warmth as it swelled towards erection. I wanted to lick the tip and taste him as he leaked pre-cum on my tongue. “How…?”

“Twenty-one point 6 centimeters.” My brain was too blown by what I was looking at to make the conversion from metric, but he saw my confused expression and added, “Approximately eight-and-one-half inches.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Like I said, embarrassing.”

“That is probably the last word I would consider when describing that humongous length of beautiful cock. More like gorgeous. Or magnificent. Or breathtaking. Or… stunning. I am stunned.”

“Really?”

As I watched it, it began to swell. Apparently my words were having a positive effect. “Monumental.” It twitched. “Impressive.” The head began to escape its tight cowl of foreskin. “Perfect.”

“Really?”

“What did everyone else say?”

“Everyone else?”

“Who’s been privileged to witness your amazing, colossal cock!”

It was lengthening quickly now. The shaft was inflating as it continued swelling larger and larger, both in length and thickness. “Oh. Nothing, really. I get a lot of stunned stares and open mouths.”

“No doubt because they want you to stick it in their mouths.”

“One man just looked at it and turned around.”

“To hide his own hard-on, no doubt.” I opened my legs wider to indicate that my own cock was having a very positive reaction.

“Oh,” he said, and that ball-tingling smile came to his kissable lips again.

“Wait. Are you telling me that you own the world’s most beautiful prick and you haven’t taken advantage of it?” It was still growing! “How… big does it get?”

He looked down at it. It was now standing straight out from his body. The head was fully exposed, glistening as if someone’s lips had been wrapped around it. The thick vein was getting thicker, and more were joining it. “Well, that’s the thing.”

“Which thing is that?”

“The reason I haven’t taken advantage of it.” It was throbbing and swelling, growing longer and thicker by the second, arching its beautiful mushroom head higher and higher. “It’s a bit… unwieldy.”

I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he grew and grew. “Uh huh,” I said. It was the most amazing thing I had ever witnessed—at least where cocks were concerned.

“Currently, it’s thirty-one centi… it’s twelve and one-quarter inches when fully aroused.”

“Can I…” My hand was reaching forward almost of its own volition.

“Please,” he said. I looked at his face, into those gorgeous eyes, and he was looking into mine. “It… feels good.”

“I bet it does,” I agreed. “Wait… ‘currently’?” He licked those full, soft lips.

I got up from my chair and fell to my knees before him. I could feel its heat as I grew close. His prick was now at its full glory, grown massive and irresistible.

I wanted to lick it. I wanted to suck it. I wanted to feel it shove against the back of my throat and slide inside me, hot and throbbing as I sucked and sucked and sucked on it. I wanted to press my tongue against it and slather it in spit and slide my hands along every hard, thick inch and feel it throb and warm as he approached orgasm, squeezing his thick load from his balls and watching it explode with cream before I set my lips to his piss slit and swallowed every delicious pump of cum he could produce.

I grasped him and he groaned and sighed. He was extremely hard, like steel, but it felt like silken velvet in my hand. I could hardly grasp the entire thing with one hand. “Yes,” he whispered softly. I looked up to his face and his eyes were closed. His hands were tightly knotted into fists.

“Do you like this?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he whispered again.

“Open your eyes.” He did, looking down at me. I moved my hand up his inches toward the head, moving my thumb onto the tender tip and rubbing him gently. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss it?’

“Be careful,” he said, oddly.

“Careful?”

“I’m…very sensitive.”

“In a good way, I hope.” It was lame joke, but he took it seriously.

“Maybe I should….” He closed his eyes and groaned again as I stroked him. I spit into my palm and slicked up the thick shaft, slowly moving my tight grip along his stone-hard erection. A sudden, thick delivery of pre swelled at the mouth of his cock and began drooling down like honey. “Oh, god,” he moaned softly.

I moved forward, opened my mouth, extended my tongue, and lapped up a thick delivery of his delicious, pungent pre-cum. We moaned in unison this time. He tasted like raw sex. My other hand reached behind him to grasp his butt. I wanted to knead his ass, but what I found was almost too hard to be kneaded. It was a mound of thick muscular power, and my prick throbbed as I imagined pulling those powerful hemispheres apart and pushing my tongue against his quivering hole.

My brain was overheated. I’d never felt so horny in my life. I stroked his cock and caressed his ass as he groaned and sighed. I moved my lips and tongue all over that magnificent phallus. It was like having a monument to male power in my hands. I moved my tongue to the slit and closed my lips over the fat head and lapped at the constant stream of sweet salty pre he was pumping from his fat balls.

I looked up, my mouth on his throbbing meat, and started shoving his pants and underwear off his body.

“Maybe… you shouldn’t.” He almost whispered the warning, like it was an afterthought, or like his brain was trying to overcome its own deep sexual desire.

I licked the length of him. “Really? You want me,” I paused, licking him again, “to stop?”

“Fuck,” he whispered.

The word was like a beautiful dangerous dagger thrust deeply into my sex drive. My cock swelled to thickness all over again and I was overwhelmed with lust. I grabbed his fat, hard prick in my hands and started to suck on him like my life depended on it. Hoppy was moaning and sighing and then I felt his large hand on the back go my head and he was starting to face fuck me, moving his hips and pushing himself towards the back of my throat.

To be honest, I am an excellent cocksucker. I have a lot of practice, sure, but also I am an avid and enthusiastic fan of sucking a dick, and here in my hands I had the most beautiful and perfect dick I had ever encountered.

He tasted like sex. He was leaking pre copiously, and I was lapping it up and swallowing it like a man possessed. I am pleased to report that I have almost no gag reflex, and although it felt like this man’s cock was so large that it was going to break my jaw, I was beyond any other feeling or desire other than to suck him until he came.

Which by the swelling of his monster in my mouth and my grasp indicated it wasn’t going to take long at all.

“I’m…”

I looked up at his handsome face, not pausing for a second. His eyes were pinched shut and veins stood out on his thick muscular neck. His shirt was soaked in sweat and his muscles seemed to be pushing out against his clothes like they wanted to strip him bare by ripping his body free of them, to expose his perfect masculine frame for me to see.

“I’m gonna…”

His hand on the back of my head suddenly pushed me hard against his groin and I felt his prick—all twelve thick inches of it—slide down my throat as my nose came in contact with his warm, soft pubic bush and its intense aroma of pure male sex. Tears came to my eyes and I was sucking air through my nostrils as my hands gripped his muscular ass and I held on for dear life. That sensation of sex was suddenly so vast and overwhelming that it felt like I was drowning inside it, like I had been pushed entirely beneath a tide of pure orgasmic lust.

“I’m gonna come.”

What Hoppy didn’t prepare me for was the literal flood of cum he was about to start pumping out of that monster. To say that I was surprised when his foot-long, inches-thick cock somehow slid so effortlessly down my gullet would be an understatement, but even that shock was nothing compared to the sensation I was about be subjected to when his mammoth cock started to throb and swell and gush inside me.

I was so startled that I had no time to think or react. It seemed I had only just started sucking his beautiful dick and relishing his taste and heat and that feeling of pure sexual delight bathing my senses when he was pulling my face against his pelvis and shoving himself so deeply inside me that I wondered how he—or I—could manage it.

Then I could feel his cock swelling in powerful throbbing waves and realized he was coming his load down my throat in thick, hot tides. But even as that physical sensation began, my brain and pleasure centers were being equally flooded with the most intensely powerful sexual assault that I had ever experienced. I have had powerful orgasms before, but this was something beyond that, plus the fact that I wasn’t the one whose cock was exploding with cream.

I groaned in absolute bliss at the feeling of this incredible cock pumping inside me, sending sound waves of delight through his massive shaft and he was making the same sort of deeply satisfied groans from his massive chest. It sounded like an earthquake, something powerful and overwhelming and uncontrollable.

He came and he came. I didn’t even have to swallow because his cock was jammed all the way down my throat, shooting its thick warm fountain of cream over and over. I had never felt anything like it.

I don’t know how long it lasted. Guys normally come in, like, a few seconds. Shoot shoot, shoot, dribble and it’s over, but Hoppy was pulling my face against his body again and again, groaning and sighing like a bear, and with every thrust I could feel him pump a fat load of cream inside me that felt like it was warming me like a bath except from my belly outward.

I tried to keep looking at him, at his gorgeous face and impressive body. The material of his shirt had grown transparent as he poured sweat, and I swear I could see his muscles swelling. It seemed to me from my angle below him that his pecs were slowly swelling forward, pulling the placket of his dress shirt apart as the buttons strained to hang on. His biceps were testing the limits of his sleeves, and were the seams on his shoulders fraying? He was breathing fast and hard as he continued to pump thick cream over and over, and veins were swelling on his neck. It was a fucking massive turn-on thinking that he was growing even bigger and stronger as I sucked the cum out of his balls.

I did not want it to end, but eventually he was done. I had tried to keep my eyes on his body and face as he came, and it was both erotic and powerful. His muscular frame was drenched in sweat, which amped up the scent of him. He was generating heat like a furnace, and I watched his massive chest and deeply carved six-pack swell and recede as he sucked air into his lungs.

Finally he opened his eyes and looked down at me, our gazes locked on each other, and he smiled and rubbed the back of my head almost like a favored pet. I enjoyed that feeling, of his large paw rubbing my scalp, and I tried to smile to register my own satisfaction but with his thick prick still lodged down my throat, my jaw was doing all it could to contain him.

He pulled himself from me and I was both shocked and excited as his cock still managed to fountain a few thick deliveries of cream over my face and neck. He was still cumming! He reached his hand around his dick and stroked himself along its slick, spit-coated surface, coaxing the last thick deliveries of cum from his fat balls and I stuck out my tongue and he pointed the cannon at my mouth and I licked and swallowed those last pumps with eager hunger.

Then I was sitting on my heels beneath him, that massive shank of pure male sex slowly growing lip before my eyes, licking my lips and grinning like an idiot. “Holy fuck,” I said at last.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a growl.

“I mean, holy fuck, Hoppy! That was amazing!”

“Really?”

“What do you mean, ‘really?’ Jesus Christ, do you always come that much?”

His strong brow arched and he kind of smirked. “Yes? I mean, usually I’m, you know, just masturbating to ejaculation but that seemed… more powerful.”

“Seemed?”

His handsome face colored with an embarrassed blush, matching the deep red of his prick which was now hanging in abundant glory in front of my face, still shiny and slick with my spit. “I… don’t have much experience.”

It was my turn to look abashed. “What does that mean?”

“I… I’m a virgin.”

“The fuck?” I responded, before thinking. Hoppy was a virgin? I mean, I guess it was possible but at the same time it seemed impossible. The man was now a walking, talking erection of massive proportions. Just being in the same room with him made me come in my shorts, and nearly every waking moment we were together today was driving my libido into the red zone.

But his face still looked embarrassed—that is, when I could pull my attention from that thick length of perfect cock hanging from his furry loins. “Sorry. Sorry. I mean, uh, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just… surprising.”

He didn’t immediately respond, and instead he backed away and started trying to shove that massive shank back into his trousers. “I mean, it isn’t like I intended to… not….”

“You don’t have to explain,” I started saying as I awkwardly got to my feet. “It’s nobody’s business what you do or don’t do.”

“When I was… the way I was. When I was small and fat, I mean, nobody really paid any attention to me. You know how it is. Especially among other men. If you don’t look good, you aren’t getting much attention. Plus I wasn’t—I don’t exactly have an outgoing personality.”

“But—sorry again—but it would seem to me that all you need to do now is walk into literally any bar or gym or, like, coffee shop in the world and you’re gonna walk out with a dozen phone numbers and probably a blow job in the men’s room.”

“That happens?”

I almost laughed thinking of how often I had given or received a toilet blow job. “Yeah. It happens.”

“Isn’t that rather unseemly? And… dangerous? The germs alone in that environment would seem to suggest….”

I held up my hand. “That’s all true, but sometimes your dick is talking louder than your brain.”

He looked down at his overburdened crotch bulge. “I had noticed that.”

“So, wait, is that… the first blow job you’ve ever had?”

“Oh, no, I’ve had blow jobs before.” He said it almost proudly.

“So you’re not a virgin.”

“What I mean is that I’ve never…”

“You’ve never fucked anyone.” He nodded slowly. “Or been fucked.” Another nod. “Hoppy, sex is whatever you enjoy. Whatever you want it to be. As long as you’re having fun and getting off, that’s sex.”

“But, I mean, technically speaking.”

I checked my watch comically. “Well, I have a few minutes right now if you do.”

“Oh. No. I didn’t mean that we should….”

I interrupted him. “I’m joking, Hoppy.” My eyes scanned his sweaty, muscular, crotch-bulging body. “Well, half-joking.”

“I mean… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to.” His eyes were doing the same to my body, and his cock was somehow managing to swell all over again, displaying his growing arousal with undisguised frankness.

I was watching his inches swell and lengthen down his thigh and felt a strong sensation of doubt in my mind. Even though I wanted his cock in my butt, I was leery of managing a foot-long, wrist-thick hunk of man meat, even given that I owned a fairly well-trained hole.

He seemed to recognize my doubt, but interpreted it as something else. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“Well, to be honest? There’s a question of practicality involved.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“Um.” I went up to him very close and reached down and grabbed his burgeoning meat. “You own a hell of a lot of prime cock here, and I’m not 100% certain my tender butt can handle it.”

“Oh! Oh, I was thinking that you… would….”

He wanted to be fucked? That was interesting. Normally guys are more than a little hesitant to be on the receiving end if they’ve never done it. So I had to ask. “Have you… played with your butt before?”

“Played with it?”

I had to smile. I was still massaging and squeezing him, feeling him growing hotter and harder with alarming speed. “Fingered your hole? Explored yourself in the shower? Bought a butt toy and rubbed your prostate with it?”

His hips were slowly rotating and he was pushing himself into my grip with anxious hunger. “I know the mechanics involved, but I’ve never… played.” He groaned and pushed himself against me. His muscles were so hard, thick and powerful, and he smelled amazing.

“Maybe we should start there, then.” I found the head of his prick and rubbed him with my thumb. “Explore a bit. Figure out what you enjoy.”

“I’m enjoying this,” he said, unnecessarily. I pushed my hand under the waistband of his pants and grabbed his hot meat. He opened his eyes and grinned. “A lot.”

“Well, luckily you’re with a very experienced man who knows his way around a hot ass.”

“Yeah?” he asked, the grin growing into a smile.

“How big is the shower in this penthouse?”


Turned out that the shower was very large, and while we waited for the water to get hot, I suggested that we explore each other’s bodies before pushing into the heart of the matter.

Hoppy started stripping himself pretty quickly—I thought he might rip his way out of his clothes, which for some reason appeared to be smaller now than when I first saw him—before I put my hands on his to stop him. “Do it slowly,” I taught him. “Teasing is a big turn-on.”

His thick eyebrows arched curiously. “Teasing?”

“You have a lot to learn.”

“And are you a good teacher, Hulkster?” His deep voice saying my nickname made my dick throb.

“I’m the best,” I answered. Then I pushed up on my toes and reached my lips towards his. He was hesitant at first, which I expected. We were friends, not lovers, even if I had just swallowed his cock and sucked him dry. There was a different intimacy to kissing than cocksucking, and he seemed to pull back a bit.

That is until I started pushing my tongue between his lips and inside his warm, wet mouth, and then he was tangling his tongue with mine and suddenly his hand was behind my neck, warm and strong, and he was groaning and rubbing his body against mine as his walls began to fall away.

He was a passionate man, even if his demeanor never hinted at it. Had he always been holding himself back, afraid of intimacy? The old Hoppy was still inside this muscular body and hiding behind this handsome man’s face. But since I was urging him to be intimate with me now, the flame of that long-smoldering passion was growing quickly powerful.

I’ve been told I’m a great kisser, probably because I enjoy it so much. Kissing is possibly more intimate that sex for me. Sex is easy, and you can fake it pretty easily. But you can’t fake a kiss. It’s either real or it isn’t.

And this was real. Hoppy started to kiss me with intensity and enthusiasm, as if I had given him permission to finally feel the intense passion he always had inside his soul.

It was… intense. And as we kissed I again had the subtle sensation that his body was swelling in time with his passion. My eyes were closed as we kissed so all the physical sensations were amplified, and my hands on his broad, muscular chest felt something like growth occurring. Even though he already had several inches on me, I felt as though his head was pulling away from me, and I struggled to maintain the kiss. He seemed to sense it, but rather than pull away to end it, his strong arms encircled me and he physically—and easily—lifted me off my feet to keep kissing me, which was both surprising and extremely erotic.

I love powerful men. I love being with strong men, feeling their muscles, feeling their strength, and Hoppy right now was turning me on more forcefully than I think he knew. I was becoming overwhelmed by him, and I loved it. And the knowledge that he wanted me to fuck him—that I was going to be able to top this mountain of powerful muscle and show him for the first time in his life what that intimate and potent sensation felt like when a man penetrates your ass and drills you into the mattress—enflamed me beyond containment.

My dick was painfully hard and he was grinding his own monster against mine as he held me off my feet and kissed my mouth with an intensity and raw need that I had never felt before. I was almost faint with desire for him.

The room was suddenly filled with swirls of steam and we were both overheated from the wet heat and out shared ardor. I reluctantly pulled my mouth from his and he opened his eyes to gaze into mine. “Let’s get naked,” I said.

He smiled and I nearly came. Was he even more handsome now than just a few moments ago, before we shared that toe-curling, cock-hardening kiss? He seemed to me to be so.

“But slowly?”

I nodded. “I want to watch,” I said. He smiled. “Which means you need to put me down.”

“Oh!” He did so, allowing me to slide from his strong embrace back to my own feet. I could feel the length and heat and hardness of his cock along my smaller body as I slid down his frame. He was hard as a rock, again, even after he had come buckets only minutes ago.

I backed away from him to watch him strip himself naked. I was anxious and excited by the prospect. At the moment he looked almost like a mummy—a sexy, muscular, very handsome mummy—since his clothes were skin tight and hugging the muscular bulges of his incredible body. The room was misty with steam and his clothes clung to him like a second skin. I could see the dark impression of his nipples and he was apparently much hairier than I remembered him from high school, with a dark carpet stretching across the heavy globes of muscle on his chest and a dark trail leading between the impressive bulges of his highly-defined six-pack abs.

But Hoppy stood there, narrowed his eyes, crossed his ham-like arms across his barrel chest—sincerely testing the limited of his sweat-soaked shirt—and said, “Show me how it’s done.”

I looked down at myself. “I kind of wish I had my own pants on. They show off my ass better.”

“Your cum-soaked pants?”

I laughed. “Yeah, my cum-soaked pants.”

“Put them on.”

“You want me to….”

“I want you to wear the pants I made you cum in.”

Well, this was a side of Hoppy I never expected. He was… dirty. “Say that again, only make your voice deeper.”

He smiled slimly. I watched his full kissable lips form the words and felt them strike me like thunder. “I want you. To wear the pants. I made you. Cum. In.”

Chills. Absolute chills. It made my balls tingle and my dick swell. “That was… very effective.”

He kept his voice in its lower register as he said, “I’ll do anything you ask me to. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Holy fuck. I nearly tripped running to get my cummy pants back on. I think I heard his rumble of a laugh behind me.

Weirdly, my pants felt even tighter than usual. I mean, I’m pretty particular about the fit because I want them to show off all the work I put into my lower body at the gym. I not only never skip leg day, I double down on it, doing so many lunges, squats, deadlifts, and kick-backs that you could not only bounce a quarter off my glutes—my glutes could support an entire table setting and still have room for a bottle of wine. I mean, my butt is amazing.

I squeezed myself into them, tugging the seat over my bubble butt and pushing my junk into the crotch and zipped myself in. Then I went back to the bedroom where Hoppy was still standing there with his awesome arms folded over that incredible chest. His thick, full mane of dark locks was hanging across his blue-eyed gaze and was winding into soft curls in the steam. He looked like Henry Cavill at his most pumped if Henry Cavill spent even more time working out and looking fine.

I walked in and did a little spin. “Approved?”

He reached down and adjusted himself. “Yes,” he rumbled. “Now take them off.”

“Shirt first, Hoppy. Always shirts first. You want to save the goods for last.”

“Like dessert?”

“Exactly like dessert.”

I started to slowly unbutton my shirt, my eyes locked on his face, watching his reaction. He looked at me like his last meal. There was hunger and desire and lust all coming through like a rainbow in a storm of sex. I opened my shirt and then turned around to show him my fine, fine ass, pulling my shirt off my shoulders and letting it drop to the carpet. I think he gasped or sighed and I heard a definite deep groan of satisfaction. I wiggled for him and he laughed. “Wow,” he whispered.

I looked over my shoulder at him and asked, “Are you ready?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “You’re so amazing.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I am.” Then I undid my cum pants and slowly, slowly revealed my Grade-A Prime butt to him.

“Holy fuck.” It was the first time I think I ever heard Hoppy curse. He said it in his lowest register, like an earthquake.

I felt a heavy shudder of pure sex shake me, almost as if he had pushed that masterful and gorgeous cock all the way inside me. It unmistakably originated from Hoppy, and I almost came again. My whole body heated up with lust and it felt almost exactly like the sensation I experience edging, that constant thrumming beautiful feeling of sexual gratification.

I moved my hand back and caressed my butt, moving my palm over the muscled hump of my ass cheek. I moved my touch between the mounds of my well-trained glutes and rubbed my fingertips against my soft, wet hole. I watched his face over my shoulder as I did it, and his mouth went slack and his eyes stayed laser focused on what my hand was doing.

Then I turned quickly around and put both hands on my chest and rubbed my thumbs on my sensitive nipples, enjoying the hard-wired sensation of erotic stimulation traveling directly to my dick, still tucked into my unzipped pants. I could smell my cum in the moist heat of the room, and I dug my hand inside my jeans to gather some of that still-wet cream and lifted my fingers to my face to smell my own masculine aroma.

I caressed my body like some fucking stripper, watching the effect my movements had on Hoppy. He licked his lips slowly and his hand was on his crotch, kneading and rubbing his swelling erection.

Then I slowly swiveled my hips and started to strip my pants down my body, moving them off my pelvis but leaving my prick stuck inside, throbbing with heavy beats. My skin is nearly hairless across my chest and belly, with just a hint under my arms. I shave my balls but leave my pubic bush full because I like it that was, and now it was erupting out of my unzipped cum pants like a crown over my dick.

“Take them off,” Hoppy groaned, and again I experienced that hard thrusting push of sexual desire against me like a physical thing, as if he was actually throwing it on my naked flesh.

I did as he instructed, pushing them down my legs and kicking them free as my dick sprang to full, throbbing attention, a drool of pre at its mouth and thick veins winding down its nearly seven thick, erect inches.

I started stroking myself as I watched him, feeling that gorgeous sexual throb erupting from my groin. Fuck I was horny, maybe hornier than I had ever been in my life. I continued slowly stroking and said, “Your turn.”

He looked up from my cock and met my gaze. Thick strands of his dark curls hung across his blue eyes and he mouth was slack. Then he put his large hands on the placket of his shirt and tore it from his body like Superman ripping his suit away to display who he really was, finally showing me the prefect, powerful, deeply arousing man he had sculpted from the raw ingredients of his former self.

All I could say, the only words I could manage to from my sex-overwhelmed brain were: “Holy fuck.”

Whatever I imagined Hoppy looked like under his soggy, skin-tight shirt was nothing compared to what I was seeing after he had so unceremoniously ripped it from his upper body.

I’ve seen plenty of beautiful bodies before of both male and female varieties, but being a gay man it’s only natural that I would admire the masculine form more. In addition, I have spent countless hours using an untold volume of weight trying to improve my own muscular development over the years of my life, reading about methods to improve muscle growth and shape, trying hard to define every swollen lobe of power to its most perfect presentation while eating right and getting plenty of aerobic exercise to be the lean, mean piece of masculine perfection I could attain.

But compared to Hoppy now, I was a puny and pathetic excuse for a man.

He stood there breathing hard in the steamy room, his torn shirt in his hands, his massive chest heaving and a look of pure lust on his face. It wasn’t so much a striptease as a display of pure, raw, unfiltered lust. The monster in his trousers was trying equally hard to rip its way free as well, and I absently wondered whether the man was feeling any pain by having that massive hard-on trapped like that.

He dropped the tattered shirt to the carpet and began to mimic what he had seen me do. Keeping his intense gaze locked on me, his hands began to caress and explore the massive, perfect bulges of muscle beneath his pale skin. His nipples were like dark dollars against the pink flesh, poking up through the furry forest that coated his incredible pectoral globes.

I watched in fascinated lust as the muscles flexed and bulged with every movement. Pencil-thick veins traversed over the softball-sized biceps mounted on his upper arms, and the dark, wet pits were overwhelmed with more manly fur, wet and dripping. I ached to lick them.

“Turn around,” I instructed. Because I wanted to see the width and taper of his back. I wanted to see if what I saw from the front, all that muscle in perfectly defined form, was mirrored there. And I was not going to be disappointed.

He pivoted around with a quick movement and as he settled again, Hoppy lifted his arms and went into a muscular pose that was slightly awkward, as if mimicking someone he had seen again rather than one practiced by a professional in a mirror. But every muscle swelled to its limit as he pushed them to rise and bulge under his slick, sweaty flesh.

It was… amazing. Unbelievable. He had achieved all this and, as far as I know, had never even set foot inside a gym. Or maybe he had? We moved so quickly to the sex parts and cocksucking that I hadn’t bothered to ask, and he hadn’t bothered to explain. But if the proof was in the pudding, the pudding Hoppy had been eating had transformed him utterly into one of the planet’s biggest, strongest, and most beautiful men.

Not to mention the whole sex waves thing and the fact that he seemed to be swelling out of his clothes in the short time we’d been together.

I should have asked him about that, but my brain was too inundated by lust and need and desire and horniness to be able to visit any sort of logical or coherent questions.

I was probably drooling—I know my dick was—when he turned back around, maintaining that muscular pose to show off his chest and arms and abs from the front as well. “Holy fuck,” I said again.

He lowered his hands to the waist of his tight trousers and began to undo them. I had already seen his monstrous sex of course, but not in conjunction with the rest of his body. Would something that huge and overwhelming look weird on him? A foot-long dick was an abnormality, but everything about Hoppy was abnormal now—or maybe supernatural was more like it.

He pulled open his fly and dug inside his crotch to extract the massive shank of sex, hauling it out with a pinched face (maybe it did hurt to coop up a massive erection in pants that tight) until he’d plucked the head from his pants and the thick prick was finally free, and as if to celebrate it began to inflate with strong, hard pulses as it refilled with blood and towered towards erection again.

I was enthralled all over again. He said something like “damn it” or “darn it” as he awkwardly stumbled a bit trying to push the pants off his legs, and in a minute or two it was apparent why it was such a struggle for him.

His legs were overwhelmed with fat lobes of hard muscle. I had seen bodybuilders shake their thighs and tense them into striations of muscular cables, but Hoppy’s legs looked like that without even trying. My god, how much iron could this man push above his head if he wanted to? How strong was that massive display of raw power that swelled under his pink skin?

Then he stood there before me finally purely naked, surrounded in whips of steam as if he was Captain American emerging from his growth cell fully formed into the superman science always dreamed of.

He was breathing hard, but I got the impression that it wasn’t from strain and it was more from lust. I based this mostly on the fact that his dick was now fully engorged and throbbing sharply, the head emerged from its tight cowl of foreskin and dripping a copious stream of honey down the long shank of its foot-high stalk. “That feels better,” he said.

“Looks better, too,” I quipped, though it was no lie. Some bodies deserved to be displayed in their naked form, a testament to the beauty of the human body, and if anyone deserved now to be permanently allowed to be nude 24/7, it was Hoppy.

He smiled at me and my heart melted. Jesus, the man was beautiful. “Ready for that shower?”

“More than,” I replied, and I went to him and put my hand on his ass and squeezed. He made a curiously high-pitched noise and wet up on his toes, clenching his ass cheeks together like a vice. I was suddenly unsure if I could fuck him. Maybe he’d snap my dick off!

The main reason I wanted to shower with him first was to get him used to having someone else’s hands all over him. That butt clench assured me that my suspicions were correct. He was a self-proclaimed virgin and that meant that he had a whole litany of walls erected around him regarding intimacy and touch, and using the excuse to wash each other meant being naked together in a way we were both used to, only this time I was going to be applying the soap all over his skin and he was going to explore my body as well.

I hadn’t been a virgin for… quite some time, but I still remember quite clearly the first time I was with another man. He was older, which was helpful, and quite tender and patient. I’m sure he knew I was unskilled without my explanations or excuses, being that I was all of seventeen years old and he was… not. But what I remember most was worrying that I was going to do something wrong, and appear to be an idiot or an oddball for not knowing what to do.

So my goal with Hoppy—who was not only unused to being intimate with someone else but was now existing in an entirely new body—was to assure him that he couldn’t do anything “wrong” with me, and that whatever he wanted to explore, I was more than happy to do that with him.

I mean, except for sticking his baseball bat in my butt, at least at first. One needs to work up to some things, doesn’t one? I’m certainly an adventurous and open-minded lover, but open-minded doesn’t naturally equate with open-butted.

On the other hand, my experience sucking on his cock had me extremely curious about what it would feel like. I loved sucking his dick, and it had somehow managed to find its way down my throat with no trouble at all, and the sensation of its heat and size and throbbing delivery of cum made me almost excited to feel him pushing it inside me and trusting against my prostate over and over.

The shower was, happily, quite huge. One of those weird open spaces without any glass that’s nearly a room in itself, with several shower heads all emitting hot sprays of water to clean every crevasse one might need cleaned. I walked behind Hoppy on purpose because I wanted to watch his fine ass bob and flex, and bob and flex it surely did! I mean, I’m proud of my keister but watching his massive muscular bubble butt was like drinking fine wine or a really good Scotch. There was shit going on there that I didn’t even know what it was, only that I really enjoyed it.

In my experience, sex in the shower isn’t as sexy as it sounds. You try to go down on someone and you find yourself drowning. You can’t open your eyes and the soap is suddenly stinging somewhere it shouldn’t sting. So rather than suggest that he bend himself against a wall and allow me to plug him there, I wanted it to be a sensual experience. To allow him to caress himself and me, and vice versa. To slide my talented hands (someone else’s words, I assure you, but who am I to argue?) all over that amazing muscular bulk, and maybe get him acquainted with the feeling of someone’s fingers exploring his tight, virginal hole.

Even within the wet heat of the shower, I could still feel Hoppy’s unusual sex vibes. He had sort of explained it to me, but it was still unbelievable that it was something I could experience so vitally. And what’s more, I could sort of tell that it was him. Like it has his signature in it, as unique as fingerprints or an eye’s iris. I wondered idly how he had managed to avoid having sex with that stuff happening all around him all the time. Wasn’t everyone he met with constantly horny for him?

I started out by asking permission before I did anything intimate. We soaped each other up and it was clear Hoppy had a fondness for dicks—or my dick in particular. He spent several very intent minutes on stroking it, and playing with the helmet, and my balls. I told him what I liked, a little tugging was good, and gripping me hard, and playing with the foreskin. He approached it all with a scientist’s curiosity at first, but then he started allowing me to try things on his body too, according some of my suggestions. Everyone has different erogenous zones, but some things are guaranteed to get a man’s engines revving.

Like, my nipples? Super sensitive. I can come just from some intense nipple play. But not every dude is so inclined. Luckily for me—because I like playing with nipples as much as I like having my nipples played with—Hoppy was also graced with sensitive ones. And the more I explored the limits of his enjoyment, the more he got into it.

I mean, this dude fucking loved nipple torture. Me, I can reach my limit when someone is chowing down or pinching them like trying to pull a splinter or something. But not Hoppy. The harder I twisted, the deeper he moaned. It was epic. I wondered how he might react if he had some heavy gauge nipple rings for us to play with.

And then it was time to start exploring butt stuff.

He was worried, like most dudes, about, you know, it being all dirty. And I explained that sometimes it is, because it’s a butt hole. But we can mitigate that with some basic tools and also that the butt is actually pretty efficient at cleaning itself—based on a dude’s diet and exercise, that is, and we both agreed that Hoppy’s body was probably the epitome of healthy.

So we were kissing, and my hand was on his ass, and my fingers started inching to his undercarriage, and I started to rub his hole, really gently of course. It’s a very tender area and it’s easy to overdue things if one isn’t careful.

But a strange thing happened. It was kind of like how his dick so easily slid down my throat and how I never gagged on him or cried or any of that stuff. As I started to play with him, he opened up for me. Like, not that he was trying to do it, but more like his body wanted it.

So I pushed inside to his warm interior and he sighed and groaned and rested his head on my shoulder. “Feel good?” I asked. He nodded. “Should I keep going?” He nodded again.

Two fingers then. And just as before, his butt welcomed the intrusion. “More,” he urged. I pushed in deeper, and was nudging his love nut. He gasped and opened his eyes and looked at me. I was smiling as I teased his prostate.

“Feel good?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, that’s usually the reaction.”

“It feels like… like jerking off but from the inside.”

“I know. You’re lucky, not every guy enjoys this.”

“Why not?”

“Bodies are different. Some find the intrusion painful. And some don’t like the sensation.”

“I do.”

“Good. Because this is just a hint of what’s to come.”

“More,” he repeated, resting his head on my shoulder again.

I pushed in a third finger, and then a fourth. Holy shit, did his butt love this. I could feel him quiver and shake with desire as my fingers explored his hole and his ass. His mouth found mine as I finger-fucked him and we started kissing passionately as the hot water splashed on our naked flesh. I could feel his mammoth cock flexing and throbbing between us against my belly, and my own was rock hard and aching with the need to explore where my fingers already were.

“I need to fuck you,” I whispered in his ear.

“Good,” he said, “because I’m pretty certain that I need to be fucked.”


We moved out of the shower and toweled each other off. He stayed rock-hard the whole time, and so did I. He cleaned me in an almost worshipful way, and again spent an inordinate amount of time paying attention to my dick, even leaning in to kiss it when he was drying me off. It was a tender and loving gesture.

When we moved back into the bedroom, both naked and horny as fuck, I got the impression that he was bigger than when we entered the shower. Perhaps it was a trick of the waning light, as night was approaching and the room was cast in shadow, but it seemed to me that he was both broader and taller than before. He looked as though he needed a shave and his hair, still damp, now hung to his shoulders and a little beyond that, like Jason Momoa but, you know, more muscular. We’d spent about 20 minutes showering and caressing each other, and I felt like I was now very, very familiar with his body and its insane muscular proportions, so it had to be my mind playing tricks.

I almost laughed as Hoppy fell onto the large California King-sized bed and immediately assumed the doggy position, even wagging his ass at me like a puppy. “Someone’s anxious,” I said.

His bright azure gaze peered over one of his mountainous shoulders. “I think I mentioned my desire to be fucked by you.”

“I seem to recall some dialog of that nature,” I replied, trying to match his oddly formal tone. “And I am of course happy to oblige.” I eyed his muscular ass and his low-hanging balls—were they as big as hen’s eggs?—with something like hunger. “You’ve had blow jobs before, but has anyone rimmed you?”

His ass wiggling stopped and he turned his face towards me again, looking perplexed. Clearly the term confused him, and he answered “Not that I know of.”

I clarified. “Has anyone ever licked your asshole?”

“Oh. Um, no.” He still looked perplexed. Clearly the idea was one he had never considered.

Hoppy owned a perfect ass. Just… perfect. At least as far as I was concerned. It was slightly furry all over, with soft delicate hairs that shone like peach fuzz. His ball sack was coated in a thick thatch of dark curls, and the wet trail of fur led between his glutes and surrounded his tight, pink, perfect hole, which looked like it had been created to be fucked.

He was still damp between his butt cheeks and the fur was plastered in soft swirls like a frame around that hole. “Well, buckle up, Hoppy,” I advised him as I climbed onto the bed behind him, “because you are about to receive a professional-level ass eating from an expert with hundreds of hours of experience.”

“Really? You want to… lick? My anus?”

“I very much want to lick your anus. I want to slick your chute up with spit and push my tongue inside you until you squirm with ecstasy and start making sounds like a chipmunk on heroin.”

“That’s… specific.” But he was smiling and wagging his ass at me again.

I grasped his ass in my hands and pulled him wider. His hole winked at me as he tensed up, which was to be expected. I moved my thumb onto his hole and rubbed him gently, allowing him to feel where all the fun was about to happen. I groaned with pleasure watching his butt respond to my touch, and then I pushed one thumb into my mouth to coat it with spit and rubbed him again, tenderly, before pushing inside—and not without some resistance, even his butt muscles were strong—and very slowly thumb-fucking him.

“That feels… curious,” he said.

“Good curious or bad curious?”

“Good. Very good.”

“Stop wagging your ass, Hoppy. Otherwise when I push my mouth in there these muscular cheeks of yours are going to give me a concussion.”

A deep rumble of a laugh erupted from his broad chest, but he stopped wagging his butt. Then, without warning, I pulled his ass open, shoved my face between his glutes and started lapping hungrily at his perfect hole.

Personally, I consider a rim job like a work of art, or more accurately, as a performance by a master craftsman. You can’t just stick your tongue on their hole and lick it like a lollipop. For one thing, a lollipop is not a hole. There’s a lot of surface to take advantage of. And you shouldn’t rush things, either, but seeing this gorgeous ass and perfect hole so invitingly displayed before me—not to mention that Hoppy’s weird sex waves were radiating from him like fallout from a nuclear explosion—my excitement and arousal got the better of me.

Normally I’d play with the hole a lot more with my fingers. Get the dude to relax, calm his anxieties, let him know that it feels good and loosen up that tightness with some gentle rubbing and nudging. But a kind of hunger overtook me and I wanted my lips and tongue on my best friend’s butt hole posthaste!

He tasted good, which I registered absently as something unusual but all it did to my actions is increase my hunger for his ass. Ass normally doesn’t taste like much of anything, unless it’s sweaty of course after a workout—one of my favorite times to dive in, because I’m a butt slut—or unless the other dude’s idea of cleanliness isn’t exactly in line with mine. But we’d both just spent nearly a half-hour in the shower cleaning each other very carefully and with attention to detail, so the sweet, tangy taste of Hoppy’s hole was a surprise.

But I was man on a mission. Eating out an ass isn’t just fun for the ass eater and the ass eaten, it lubes up the chute for when it’s time to push your dick inside and start fucking.

He started to squirm, but I didn’t stop. If anything, it urged me on. I fucking licked and slurped and spat on that virgin hole like a starving man sitting in front of a steak dinner with all the trimmings. I’ve been told I’m very good at rimming, not that it mattered to me. I wasn’t normally doing it for the other dude’s gratification, I do it because I fucking love doing it! And now I felt like a master sculptor presented with a perfect piece of marble and I was going to fucking create a masterpiece of ass eating.

I paused to pull my face out of Hoppy’s muscular buttocks to spit into my palm before I reached forward and grabbed his hard-on to stroke him as I continued pleasuring him from behind. He gasped and groaned and started shaking slightly, which wasn’t wholly unexpected. A body in ecstasy behaves in unexpected ways, sometimes.

His dick in my grip felt huge! Like I could barely get my hand around him. The room was otherwise silent, so the only sounds were my hungry lapping and moaning at his hole, the slick sliding of my hand along his cock, and Hoppy’s constant deep bear-like growls and groans of sexual bliss. Also he would occasionally moan, “Oh, fuck,” and, as odd as it sounds, every utterance of that word sent a vibrant and very palpable shock of sex through my body, like my naked skin was being splashed with hot water except the water was made of sex.

His cock was rock-hard and hot as a furnace. Obviously he was enjoying my ministrations. And before too long I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get my dick inside this man’s ass!

I pulled my hand from his cock and my mouth from his ass, slapped his right butt cheek resoundingly and ordered him to “turn over and open wide.” I sat up on my heels and looked at his broad back. The array of muscles looked like a map of a mountain range. I could see every muscle in perfect definition, and they were all bulging as if he’d just spent an hour at the gym. It was incredible.

It took a minute. I think he was in a state of sexual grace he’d never experienced before. “Huh… what?”

“Time for the main event, Hoppy, my man.”

“Turn over?”

“I want to watch your face while I fuck you. I want you to watch my face while I fuck your ass. Besides, it makes it easier to kiss your mouth when we’re chest-to-chest. With my dick in your ass, and your arms around me, holding so close because you never want me to stop.”

“I never knew there were so many rules.”

I slapped his ass again. “Turn over, man! My cock needs to be fucking you! Right now!”

“Well, you’re the boss.”

Hoppy might’ve been joking, but the idea that I was dominating this huge, beautiful, muscular giant made my cock throb and drool. His mammoth frame arched up—fuck, how could I keep forgetting how big Hoppy was now? He towered before me, and I watched in ecstasy as the muscles of his body twisted and bulged and flexed when he flopped over onto his back, his shaggy head on the pillows, and was lying there naked before me, ready for me to do whatever I wished with him.

Fuck, he looked even bigger! That chest was superhuman! Even laying on his back, each muscular globe rose up several inches. I could clearly see the bands of muscle stretching across both furry pecs, and his large, dark nipples were asking to be tortured. His face—epically handsome—had a definite shadow of a beard on his squared, masculine jaw. He pulled his hands behind his head and I watched footballs erupt on his upper arms, biceps so large that they seemed to want to contend with his head for sheer size!

I scanned down his body and every inch of it turned me on. His six-pack looked like a cobblestone lane. His foot-long cock laid in the crevasse between his abs with a fat mushroom head glistening with pre. His exposed pits, which I had spent minutes with in the shower soaping them up and licking them, were sending out a strong aroma of his intense masculine scent. He was smiling at me as his dick throbbed and arched with evident need.

I had never encountered anyone to match Hoppy’s overt sexual potency and absolute beauty. “Well,” he said, “are you ready for this?”

I couldn’t even speak for a moment as I drank him in. “I could…” I gulped and pulled in a deep, calming breath. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m ready,” he answered in his deep, powerful voice. “Fuck me.”

There was a look on Hoppy’s face I’d never seen before, either when we were mates at school or in the hour or two since we’d become reacquainted. It was not an unfamiliar look, but not one that I would have attached to Hoppy.

It was a look of deep need. A look of erotic desire. A look of intense sexual hunger. It was look that said “I not only want you to fuck me, I need you to.”

His skin was shiny with sweat. The mass of dark fur on his broad, impossibly huge chest was matted to his flesh. His nipples were erect and I ached to take them between my teeth and nibble on them like gummies. His prick was drooling a stream of precum that pooled in the deep cleavage of his abs like the Colorado River carving out the Grand Canyon. His blue eyes smoldered under his thick, dark lashes and his full, sensuous lips were curved into a slight smile.

He looked, again, like a different man. Different even than the one who walked out of the bedroom earlier and made my cock erupt with a sudden fountain of cream.

I sat on my haunches looked across the vast expanse of muscle and cock before me and my own dick was throbbing like a pendulum, hard as steel and aching to push itself inside him. He lifted his legs up and pulled them wide, like a pair of scissors opening. His fat balls were moving, like pumps. There was a name for that, some scientific term, but at the moment all I could imagine were a pair of hands slowly squeezing them as if filling them up with cum.

“Fuck me,” he instructed.

“Hoppy,” I started to say, meaning to ask what was going on. What was really going on.

But he interrupted me with those two words again. “Fuck me.” And again that struck me in the chest and the groin and the ass like being bathed in pure sex.

I leaned over his body, may hands on either side of his broad chest, and felt the tip of my cock kiss his hole as if he were a magnet and I was steel, drawn to him whether I wanted it or not. I didn’t even have to guide myself into him, or push past the tightness of his ass, or overcome a hesitancy to my intrusion.

I gasped and pinched my eyes shut as I found myself sliding inside him so easily, it was as if we were always supposed to fit together. The sensation of pleasure, of sexual bliss, was overwhelming. It surrounded my prick like a velvet glove and I was suddenly all the way inside him, my hard dick throbbing with absolute ecstasy, rubbing my leaky head against his prostate as his muscular but massaged and squeezed and pleasured me in a way that nothing ever had before.

“Fuck me.”

I began to piston my hips, drawing myself in and out of his tight, gorgeous perfection. I leaned my lips to his and he surrounded me in his strong, hard embrace and I pushed my tongue inside his mouth and he groaned deeply, holding me tight as I slowly, methodically, repeatedly fucked his ass.

“You feel so good,” he whispered to me.

I was beyond words. But I had to agree with him. Nothing had ever felt as good as this. I was convinced nothing ever would again. This was a body designed for fucking. He squeezed my dick in his perfect velvet vice and it felt like he was sucking on me with his ass. He kissed me and pulled my body to his and the heat increased between us. My cock was so hard it hurt. My balls felt like they weighed several pounds. This wasn’t just fucking, this was something beyond fucking.

I felt dizzy. Was sex supposed to feel this good? Was I even having sex before this? I’ve experienced mind-blowing, stupidly powerful orgasms before but this was better than any of those, and I wasn’t even coming yet.

But I could feel it. I could feel a load of hot, creamy cum building and building like a balloon inflating beyond its capacity. Something powerful and overwhelming and so, so, so gorgeous in its absolute erotic power was happening, and it was something between us, not just something that he or I was experiencing.

I was breathless and lost in ecstasy. “Do you… ?”

He whispered in my ear again. “Do I what?” His ass squeezed my cock like several hands, stroking and teasing me. How was he doing that? Did he even know that he was?

“Do you… want me to… cum inside you?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Please.”

“I’m close,” I told him.

“Can you keep going? You feel so good inside me.”

“I… I can try.”

His lips were pressed against mine again. His strong, muscular arms held me close against his monumental body. His scent filled my head. My whole body tingled like a cock that has been edging for hours. I wanted to come. I needed to come. My balls felt like steel weights and my cock was harder than stone.

“Can you… ?”

“I can do anything you want me to,” he whispered with that deep, throaty growl. His breath was warm on my neck.

“Can you… slow down? Whatever… whatever your ass is… oh, fuck… your ass is driving me crazy.”

He rumbled out a chuckle and I felt it all over my body. “What’s my ass doing?” His long, strong legs bent at the knees and now he was using his lower legs to push my ass towards him. Holding me in place. Pulling me in deeper.

“Oh, fuck, it feels so good.”

“What does?” I wasn’t sure if he didn’t know what his ass was doing, or if it was unusual, or if he was doing so many things at once he didn’t know which one thing I was referring to.

“Everything.”

“You really want me to stop?” His butt caressed and squeezed and sucked on my dick. His lags pulled my dick deeper inside him. His arms held me in place against his hard muscles. His voice was deep and powerful, soft and passionate. He smelled like aw sex.

“I’m gonna come,” I said.

“Come,” he told me. “I want to feel you coming inside me.” How voice was both soft and powerful. “I want to feel how you feel when you come.”

I bit my bottom lip. Was so close. It felt lie it was on the edge of exploding. I groaned and felt my asshole tighten and I started pumping my load inside him. He groaned in unison, a deep bearish rumble I could feel coming from his massive chest and reverberating in mine.

I groaned. I whimpered. I sucked air into my lungs and gasped and sighed. It was intense, like a fire I was pushing inside him. I felt myself come again and again, thick creamy fountains coating my prick in warmth and making my fucking slick and wet. I fucked him as I came and it felt like I was in heaven.

Then it was my time to shake. My body was overwhelmed with bliss and couldn’t handle the overwhelming perfection of that fuck. I settled against him, within his strong embrace, my cock buried deep in his ass, and he kissed my head and squeezed my body tightly.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, and kissed my head again. I felt so small in his embrace, and if my dick was growing softer it sure the hell didn’t feel like it. His butt continued to squeeze and caress me, almost like he wanted to milk every drop out of my balls. I wasn’t a small dude by any means, but somehow within his all-encompassing embrace, I was like a child.

One thing I did know through my sex-drenched fog of a stupor was that something both extraordinary and incredible happened with Hoppy. Sex was supposed to feel good, of course, but there was something beyond any sex I had ever experienced that happened during the preceding ten or fifteen minutes.

I was breathing hard against him. Maybe I was even still drooling cum from my prick, which tingled and throbbed and felt magnificent inside him.

“Now,” he growled, squeezing my cock with his velvet vice, “it’s my turn.”

Oh, shit.

If Hoppy was a virgin, as he claimed, I decided I needed to fuck virgins more often. “Holy fuck,” I managed to say again. What else was there to say? It was, literally, a holy fuck. I had entered the gates of heaven with him, and now I didn’t want to come back.

But, as he mentioned, now it was his turn to fuck me. We just experienced the best sex that probably any two people had ever experienced, and how was I supposed to meet that goal with a butt that didn’t do… whatever Hoppy’s butt could do?

“What’s the matter?” He asked. He seemed to recognize my deflation, both physical and emotional. “Are you still scared? You know I wouldn’t ever hurt you.” He brushed my sweaty hair with his hand. My head was resting against his mammoth chest. I could feel him breathing. My dick was still throbbing inside his ass.

“I… I don’t want to disappoint you.” I mean, honesty, right?

“How could you disappoint me? That was amazing!”

I twisted my face towards his. “I know. That’s kind of my point.”

“I don’t understand.”

I moved my head so my chin was on his nipple. I brushed some of those dark curls from his blue eyes. “It’s like… that was… otherworldly. That was beyond. That was… the most awesome sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me, too,” he said, smiling. “Then again, it’s the first sex I’ve ever had.” He squeezed my dick with his butt again. I started to think I never wanted to pull it out of him.

He slowly groaned again and I felt his body shift. Was he stretching his mammoth muscles? There was a subtle change that I could feel since he was still holding my body against his, an increase in his heat or his scent or… everything. It passed quickly as I was trying to figure out what I was feeling, then he squeezed me with his arms and his legs and his ass and kissed my forehead. “We can just stay like this if you want. I like cuddling. And I have a lot of practice.”

“What’s that mean?” I loved hearing his voice. I loved feeling his voice rumble against me.

He shrugged and looked towards the ceiling. “When you’re a littler dude like I was,” he said, though hearing him use ‘dude’ sounded weird, “you’re ‘cute’ or you’re ‘adorable’ or you’re ‘sweet.’ But you’re not hot.” I found it hard to disagree, no matter how unfair that was. Hoppy was always kind and honest and caring. He was hot on the inside, I guess. “And whenever I tried to… be with someone before, we usually ended up just cuddling. But I learned to be happy with that.”

I didn’t know what to say in response to tell him he was wrong, so I said, “Your cuddling talents are first rate,” which sounded lame even to my own ears.

He squeezed me again and I felt warm all over. “This feels nice.”

“You mean holding me like this, or having my cock still lodged in your ass?”

“Both,” he said.

“Well, I don’t want to call an end to this moment any more than you do, but if you want to fuck me you’re going to have to allow me to pull out, much as I’m also enjoying the feeling of staying together like this.”

“I’m… kind of anxious to feel what it feels like to fuck someone.”

“It feels awesome,” I told him, having just experienced exactly how awesome it can feel.

“As awesome as being fucked?”

“Totally different awesomes. Unless you’re fucking someone while someone is fucking you, but that’s a lot of organization and concentration and kind of more like a party trick than fucking.”

He snorted. “What? You’ve fucked someone while being fucked?”

“I’ve done a lot of things, Hoppy. Hardly any of which I would be embarrassed to share with you, if you really wanted to hear about what a slut I am.”

“Maybe later,” he said. I looked at his face and he was smiling. “Right now I just want to fuck you.”

He lifted his arms from my body and pulled his legs from my butt, lying prone beneath me with my dick still inside him. I shifted my hips and pulled myself down his body to begin to pull myself out, enjoying the lingering sensation of his ass gripping me along every inch. “Your ass is just fucking amazing,” I told him, amazed how good it still felt even now.

“Thanks?” he answered, amused.

His huge cock was lying across his abs almost reaching his pecs, head-spinningly thick and throbbing firmly. It reminded me what I was about to attempt, and also how much his body had been improved by whatever the fuck he’d done to himself. “Was the amazing ass part of the upgrade?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Though it was unintentional. I mean, DNA and genetics can only… ooh, god, if my ass feels as good as your dick… .”

“Thanks?” I said, mimicking his response.

I pulled free with a wet plop and looked down. My cock looked huge! Like, seriously massive. “Oh my god,” I said quietly, reaching down and grasping myself. My cock was hot and fat and firm and slick with spit and ass juice. It was like his ass had acted like a penis pump on me. It was red and hard and thick as fuck. I slid my hand along its length and a million billion sexual tingles erupted and I gasped and sucked in a sudden deep breath. “Oh my god.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fucking fantastic.” I stroked myself. “Does this look bigger to you?”

His eyebrow arched as he reached up to push his wealth of dark, curly locks from his gaze. He checked out my throbbing, glistening cock and said, “Bigger?”

“It feels… bigger.”

He reached down and accompanied my strokes with a tight squeeze. “You were always big, Hulkster.”

“Not as big as you,” I observed.

“I wasn’t going to mention that,” he said, petting his own fat anaconda.

I sat up between his splayed legs and looked at his meat again, and it made my ass pucker. “I might need a little prep for this.” I tried to grasp his dick and couldn’t even fit my hand around its girth. “Or a lot of prep.”

“We don’t have to,” he started to say.

“Yes we do. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been training my entire adult life for this. I’ve managed some pretty big dicks before, and they feel amazing.” I tilted my head, remembering a particularly large cock some random Latin dude at a go-go bar challenged me with. “I mean, after the initial… challenge.”

“What’s the challenge?”

I looked at him and then at his monster. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Oh. What does prep mean?”

“Do you remember when I was licking your butt hole?”

“I remember very well.”

“You get to return the favor. And some fingers and teasing. I would’ve brought some industrial strength lube had I known what you had in store for me.”

“Lube?”

I laughed. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Most gay men have a favorite lube. It just makes all the butt stuff easier. Though a lot of guys just prefer spit.” I gauged his meat again. “This calls for some serious lube.”

“Can I rim you anyway?”

“That’s like a question I never expected anyone to ask me.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes, Hoppy, I would be pleased if you licked my ass. Is… never mind.”

“Is what?”

“Is your tongue upgraded as well?”

His face looked confused and then he opened his mouth and pushed out the largest tongue I had ever encountered. It was long and it was thick and it was wet. “Holy fuck, Hoppy!”

“Whud?” He said around his snake-like appendage.

“You’re tongue hung!”

He tried looking down at his tongue and nearly licked his eyes like some fucking chameleon. “I ab?”

“Fucking hell, Hoppy! You could tongue-fuck me and that’d almost be the biggest dick I ever managed!”

“Id would?” He was spinning his huge tongue in circles and wagging it and making it do all sorts of things a dick could never managed. He practically had a wet, prehensile cock inside his mouth!

“I think if you’re armed with that tool, we won’t need the lube. You could slick up my butt all the way to my throat!” My heart was racing at the mere thought of him using that on my hole. “Where was that tongue when we were kissing?”

He pulled it back between his teeth and shrugged. “I dunno, it never occurred to me that it was larger than average.”

“It’s not only larger than average, it’s larger than larger than average, and I mean that as a compliment. Fucking hell, Hoppy, you could probably wrap that around my dick and jerk me off hands free until I start pumping cum against your tonsils which are probably also perfect!”

He smiled and licked his lips. “You want to try?”

“One sexual fantasy at a time, my friend. First let’s find out how good you are at eating an ass—primarily mine, and primarily ASAP.”

“Assume the position,” he said deeply.

“Which one?” I asked. “On my back or doggy style?”

He sat up on his elbows. It was erotic how much his body’s musculature flexed and bulged with even the slightest movement. “Which do you prefer?”

“Well, doggy style you’re behind me so I can’t watch you easily, but you have complete access to everything and full control because using my hands is more difficult. If you’re into master and servant fantasies, doggy style is preferred. But, if I’m on my back then still you get full access to everything, with my dick in your face and your tongue in my ass, and I get to watch you slurp at my hole while I jerk off.”

“Decisions, decisions,” he responded. “I think I want to watch your face while I eat your ass.”

“I always said you were a genius, Hoppy.”

My generously proportioned friend grinned at me. “You did?”

“Well, if I said it to you, it might have made your head swell as big as your cock is now.” He was leaning forward and I was moving onto my back. The huge bed lurched and complained with audible creaks as his giant bulk repositioned for optimal access to my ass. I scanned his body as he moved, watching his thick and beautiful developed muscles move and flex beneath his flawless skin. Maybe it was the bed or maybe it was just Hoppy, who never had an athletic bone in his body, but he moved a bit strangely and awkwardly, as if wearing a costume that was too big for him.

If Hoppy’s ass had been upgraded, I was more than a little curious about his cock. Is that why it slid down my throat with seeming effortlessness? Maybe his pre was like some sort of numbing agent that prevented me from gagging on it, but if it was why could I feel every inch of it so intensely? It had felt as if we fit together somehow, as if his cock down my throat was meant to be.

Maybe his cock in my ass would be equally surprising, and suddenly I was anxious and excited by the prospect. I smiled and felt very excited suddenly, hopping on the mattress and landing with my ass towards his dripping prick.

He paused as he considered my well-trained and well-used hole. “Any advice?”

“I’ve always found that if you start slowly and build up to a crescendo, the audience will be very pleased.”

I fell onto my back, pulled my bent legs towards me and held them with my hands under my knees, presenting myself for his pleasure. He bent farther forward, pushing his face towards the mattress and my anxious pucker. His shoulders were like hard mounds of steel, and I rested my legs against them which lifted my ass towards his face. He licked his full, wet lips and observed, “I’ve never considered an anus to be a particularly attractive part of the male anatomy, but you’re starting to change my opinion on the matter.”

Then I felt something warm and wet apply itself to my butt. His eyes were locked on mine but his tongue was so long that he could reach it all the way to my hole. It was a barely-there registration of his first tentative touch, the feeling of the tip of his tongue testing the taste of my hole. “Uh huh,” I urged. “That’s a good start.” I could feel the semi-firm tip of his tongue rubbing against my tenderness, like a warm, wet finger.

His hands moved up the sides of my body and he rested his palms on my chest, moving his thumbs to my nipples and rubbing me the extremely right way. I sighed and groaned and my dick throbbed hard, rubbing itself against his face. He moved over slightly and now he was, somewhat miraculously, simultaneously licking my balls, taint, and hole all at the same time. I’m not sure if that was his intention, but it felt fucking amazing.

I was squirming and groaning in absolute lust, hardly able to suck in a breath when Hoppy’s face suddenly disappeared, his strong arms hoisted my whole body up, and I felt like someone was shoving an eel inside my hole.

It was warm and wet and thick and long. It pushed inside me and licked my prostate, then it went in deeper. And deeper. Hoppy was tongue fucking me and I gasped and shook from the intense pleasure he was delivering.

I guess I was shaking and heaving so violently that he thought something was wrong and he pulled that miraculous and talented tongue out of me and his face poked up next to my throbbing cock. “You okay?”

“Holy fuck,” I whimpered. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.”

“So… I should continue?”

“You need to work on your dirty talk.”

He rubbed his thumbs on my nipples as he growled, “So I should… fucking continue?”

I pushed my hand on his head and shoved his face back down, indicating that fuck yes, you should fucking continue holy fuck! His tongue nudged at my returned tightness, a hot wet lick that rubbed against me with growing urgency until I allowed him inside again and he shoved that pliable snake as deep as he could.

I didn’t even care if he ever fucked me as long as his talented tongue stayed right where it was. I had never felt anything like it. Previous rim jobs were like laughable jokes regardless of how hungry for my ass those men had been. This was Olympic-level rimming. This was the rim job of the gods. This was epic and my eyes rolled back in my head and I spasmed with absolute, unequivocal, unmitigated, overwhelming sexual bliss. My whole body shook with perfect pleasure as he treated my ass like a yogurt cup from whose deep bottom he intended to suck every drop of sticky sweetness.

Hoppy took my loss of control—moaning and squirming and making noises not yet heard to come from a grown man—as a sign that he was doing it right, evidently, because he seemed to redouble his efforts and the sound of his sloppy, wet, powerful tongue fucking my ass sounded like someone eating an entire ice cream sundae in one gulp.

I was losing my fucking mind to the intense pleasure he was delivering when there was a polite knock on his penthouse door and he paused in his wet and wonderful butt ministrations and his sweaty, shaggy head appeared between my legs as he looked towards the sound and said, “Oh, shoot.”

I was breathing hard, gasping for air, so I couldn’t laugh at the situation but I wanted to. Saying “shoot” instead of “shit” was just so… Hoppy. He rubbed my nips and looked at me. “I think that’s room service.”

I was literally gasping for air as my hands gripped the sheets just to hang on to something. “It’s… it’s… .”

“I ordered something for us to share earlier. Of course, I hadn’t considered that we might be otherwise engaged.”

“Room… .”

“I should get that. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Then he seemed to consider something and he glanced down at my spit-drenched ass and said, “Obviously.”

“Eat… .”

“Yes, we’re going to eat now. I need to eat. This larger body demands a lot of intake.” He looked at me and his handsome head tilted. “Are you okay? You look a little weird.”

I supposed that being plunged into a warm pool of Hoppy’s pure sexual pleasure high might make anyone look weird. But I tried to collect myself and I nodded my head, still living through the sensation of this man’s intense and overwhelming attention that he’d been paying to my ass. “I’m a bit… . Overwhelmed.”

He smiled. My dick throbbed. “In a good way?” I nodded. “Excellent.” Then he was crawling off the bed and went into the bathroom, reemerging a moment later tying a robe that was way too small for his height and muscular bulk, not to mention that his foot-long cock was standing tall and proud against his six-pack. The robe barely reached his knees and his furry, muscular chest was so thick and wide I doubted he could contain it at all.

He struggled for a moment to try to fit everything about himself inside that white terrycloth garment, continuously tucking one thing in which made another thing stick out, when the knock at the door returned and he sort of shrugged, tied the robe’s belt so that it strapped his hard-on against his body and left the bedroom, calling “One second!” as he left me naked and gasping on the bed.

I just decided to lay there like a sack of well-lubricated potatoes. I was worn out already and he hadn’t even touched his dick to my ass, yet! I heard some muffled voices and wondered what the hell the bellboy might be thinking as he delivered his tray of food to this sweaty, giant, muscular, well-hung mostly naked stud who smelled like sex and looked like he’d just been eating out another dude’s ass for fifteen minutes.

On the other hand, I’m sure he’d seen better and worse over the years.

Hoppy returned with a curious look on his face. “That was odd.”

By now I had regained a modicum of composure and tilted my head to look at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I offered him a tip and he was just staring at me with his mouth open and didn’t say a word.”

“Your dick is showing.”

“What?”

I turned over and pointed at his chest. “Your dick is showing.”

Hoppy’s robe had worked itself open and his erect cock, pink and shiny and leaking a steady stream of pre, was throbbing with intense need. The head nearly reached the lower edge of his ponderous pectoral globes and was pumping a glaze of honey into his thick carpet of dark man fur. It was sexy as holy fuck. “Oh,” he said.

“Might have distracted him,” I suggested.

“You think so?” He laughed and shook his head slightly. “Well, anyway, there’s food out there if you’re hungry. I have to eat, this body craves a rather large amount of protein and calories daily.”

“I would imagine so,” I said. “That dick alone probably requires a whole salami.”

Hoppy looked at me and replied, “Salami is too full of fat and processed meats to be of use. And a healthy penis depends more on blood flow and testosterone, not to mention some potassium for libido and caffeine for… you were joking, weren’t you?”

“Not very successfully, obviously.”

We sat down to eat—I pulled on some light cotton workout pants he had and an XXL white t-shirt that fit more like a mini dress—and watched him devour a huge plate of mostly vegetables, which I found interesting, thinking all those huge muscles probably wanted chicken or some other low-fat meat protein. As I watched him and considered the young man I remembered who looked nothing like this, I started to ask, “When… ?” But I stopped.

He paused in his eating, “When what?”

“When… did all this happen?”

“When did I get big?” He pushed his fork into a spinach salad with walnuts and beets.

“Big, strong, more handsome, more… everything. I mean, how did… ?”

“Simplest answer is I cheated.”

“You cheated.”

He nodded his shaggy, handsome head. “I didn’t go to the gym. I mean, not initially. I have a new home gym now—state of the art—and I discovered why you love it so much. It feels… .”

“Powerful.”

“Exactly.” He pushed his fork into a salad of beets and walnuts. “Feeling your muscles surge and sting with strength. Seeing how far you can push it, how strong you are, how strong you’re becoming. Seeing gains in the mirror, feeling them in the shower. It’s all quite sensual.” He lifted the fork to his sensual mouth and ate some salad gustily.

“I didn’t intend… all this.” He looked down at his incredible body. His chest was fully exposed, having shoved its bulk out of the small robe, and his dark, large nipples looked like they wanted my teeth on them. Though his massive dick had managed to calm down there was a thick glaze of precum glistening on the dark curls that wound through his abs. And he still smelled very distinctly of raw fucking. “It was sort of an accident, but once I breached those limits, I found that I wanted to keep going and see how far I could take it.”

“And what is ‘it,’ exactly?” I drank some coffee.

“To put it simply—human evolution.”

“Okay. Well. What?”

He chuckled. “Evolution is a process that… .”

“I know what evolution is, Hoppy. I remember a few things from high school.”

“Human evolution is at an end,” he said, setting down his fork and tenderly wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. I watched his thick biceps swell inside the robe’s tight sleeves and I swear I hear tearing sounds. He’d mostly cleaned out the entire collection of food, anyway. “We are no longer changing to survive the environment because we are adapting our environment to us. A giraffe has a long neck so that it can reach the highest leaves for itself and survive when everyone else is down on the bottom of the tree trying to get scraps. The ocean iguana survives because it learned to dive and hold its breath to get the food in the water when food on the land was scarce.”

I tilted my head and smirked at him. He understood my expression.

Brushing his free hand through his wealth of hair and pushing it back from his erection-causing features, he nodded and sat back in his seat, his voice and gestures becoming more animated. As he moved, the robe slowly lost its battle to keep him inside it. It was shrugging off of his wide, muscled shoulders and falling away from his thick, broad pectoral globes. “Okay, okay. So, evolution is a natural process that normally takes a long time. A very, very long time. Accidents of genetics create an abnormality that turns out to be beneficial. The abnormality survives because its host survives because of the abnormality. A kind of vicious cycle.

“I theorized that evolution and those evolutionary genetic anomalies were the keys to my own goals. If I could… adapt the genome to start producing adaptive, positive evolutionary changes, much smaller in impact but much, much faster than normal, then I could alter my genetic make-up in a positive, beneficial manner.”

“Sure. Anyone else would do that,” I said sarcastically. Playing with the building blocks of the human animal by accelerating positive evolutionary change? Sure, why not?

If he recognized my doubt and sarcasm, he chose to ignore it. “The real challenge was making the updates positive rather than negative. When you start playing with genetics, you can do some serious damage—another reason I used myself as the guinea pig for my theories and trials.”

“Uh huh.” This seemed insane, except for the fact that I was witness to the actual outcome sitting right in front of me in all its mind-bending, hard-on making glory.

“My second area of investigation involved the nature of sleep.”

“Sleep?” I sipped my coffee again, trying to hide the fact that I was only half-listening to Hoppy’s explanation because I was so distracted by his face and body. It looked like the deep crevasse between his pecs was growing deeper as he spoke.

“Humans need sleep for a huge number of reasons, some of which we only partially understand and some we only assume. But one thing we know for certain is that a great deal of a human body’s growth and repair takes place when we’re asleep. Muscle rebuilds itself when we sleep, for example, and our brain can work out the problems we couldn’t understand when awake with all the daily distractions and calls for attention. I wondered—I theorized—that if I could take advantage of sleep’s many tools for fixing and upgrading the body in a more… proactive manner, I could accelerate the positive changes I was starting to create.”

“Uh huh,” I answered, slightly feeling those waking distractions watching Hoppy’s chest rise and fall as he breathed, and the way his nipples pointed towards his crotch like a suggestion.

“Long story short, I managed to simultaneously overcome human evolution’s stagnation and take advantage of the human body’s restful state and… .” He smiled and rose from his chair, pulling that small, sad robe from his magnificence and lifting his arms to shove all his muscles into brain-sizzling relief. I watched his biceps climb and bulge, the head splitting into its distinct lobes, and as he opened his sweaty pits to me a sudden, thick, invisible fog of his intensely erotic scent stung my nostrils and made my cock painfully hard. His eight-inch cock, now limp and its head once more cowled in a tight foreskin collar, was still thick and long and lickable, hanging heavily over two fat balls swollen with cum.

I could hardly think. My brain was being bathed in sex waves emanating from the gorgeous naked man before me and all my attention zeroed in on the sensation of my cock pulsing and my balls buzzing and my butt hole twitching. “But I don’t… .” I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes to gather my thoughts. “I don’t understand why evolution and sleep resulted in… you.”

He relaxed his insane muscular perfection and sat again. “Ah. Well, while I considered the effects of positive evolution on the human genome, I didn’t fully understand what that would mean in a modern context. Having unlocked beneficial genetic analogies in my own cellular principal, what form would those alterations take? What was necessary for a modern human to survive? And what did surviving entail?”

I summed it up for him, based on the evidence before me. “Apparently it entailed growing muscle like a son of a bitch and growing a dick that could choke a horse and developing an ass so perfect that it feels like it’s sucking your cock like a professional. That would be my take.”

He laughed warmly. “I was as surprised as you are now! I’m still surprised!” He looked down at his naked body and started moving his large hands all over himself. “I presumed I would get taller, possibly more muscular, lose some body fat, just generally get a lot healthier. And that certainly happened, but the… extent of the changes, and the speed at which they’re occurring, are both shocking.”

“I know the feeling.” Then my brain seemed to clear the sex fog. “Wait. ‘At which they’re occurring’? They’re still occurring? You’re not, like, fully cooked?”

His blue eyes flickered up to mine and it looked for a moment as if I had caught him in something he hadn’t intended to reveal. “It would seem I am not.”

“You’re still changing.”

“I’m still… improving.”

“More than this?” He already looked perfect to my eyes.

He merely shrugged. “Once the floodgates are opened, a flood is the next natural occurrence.”

“You’re going to get bigger?”

“I’m never quite sure what the next evolutionary progression will deliver.”

“The next?”

He poured himself a large glass of water and drank deeply. Even watching his Adam’s Apple bob was a sensual experience. “Evolution is a constant process. Though the greatest—the most noticeable—changes occur while I sleep. The joke that goes ‘I woke up like this’? It is literally true in my case. And often the changes are things I am not even aware of, but they have been universally positive.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you’re telling me my anus and rectum are performing in an unusual manner. But perhaps the added ability to cause additional sexual pleasure with my… butt… has additional favorable aspects to my biological success that I am presently unaware of. I certainly never intended or expected that, but perhaps it’s all part of the eventual progression.”

“Towards what?”

“Perfection?” My brain was spinning again, except not with Hoppy’s erotic fragrance. “Not literal perfection, of course. Such a thing doesn’t exist.”

“But you’re approaching human perfection.”

“Maybe flawlessness is a more exact term.”

“Holy shit, Hoppy!”

He shrugged again, moving his mountainous shoulders so his massive deltoids nearly kissed his earlobes. “What I’ve unlocked in myself is now unstoppable and progressive. My body has become attuned to my emotional and physical pleasure as a measurement of evolutionary progression.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said softly, looking at him. “Does it… hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“Your ‘evolutionary progression’.”

He narrowed his eyes. “It did at first, but it doesn’t anymore. It feels good, as a matter of fact.”

“You’re aware of it happening?”

He licked his upper lip as he looked at me. “It’s always happening. I’m always being refined in small ways. And some… not so small ways.” He did something, which I assume involved flexing his cock, and the whole table lifted slightly before it settled again with a clanging retort. “But the largest physical changes occur during sleep, as I said.”

“And what determines… ?”

He was now absently playing with one nipple. The sense of his arousal—the scent or sensation or whatever it was—grew stronger. “As I said, my body seems attuned to pleasure as a powerful motivator, as one might expect. Fear or sadness—emotional states that don’t act as signs of favorable, life enhancing improvement—wouldn’t be positive agents of change, but pleasure, satisfaction, gratification, fulfillment… those are all signs of positive progression.”

“So you have a bigger dick because… .”

“Because I derive more pleasure from it. My testes can produce more ejaculate and semen so I can ejaculate more often and more copiously, experiencing more joy and satisfaction. My body grew taller and more muscular because I derive pleasure from its capabilities and appearance, as do others… apparently.” He looked pointedly at my lower torso. My newly-engaged erection had slipped under my shirt and was throbbing dully as I leaked pre in a growing wet stain.

I said, “I can attest strongly to that as a measurement of my pleasure, but I’m not certain about yours.” I licked my lips. “And is it… catching?”

“Oh, no. This process is highly personalized to the individual’s genome and incredibly expensive to set-up and perform. If I were not a billionaire… .”

“And a genius,” I added.

“None of this would have been possible.”

My cock throbbed hard as I looked at his naked perfection. But a thought occurred to me. “There have to be downsides, though, right?”

“Why do you imagine that?”

“Life never works like this. You never get something for nothing.”

“Well, I certainly draw attention now that I didn’t before. I’ve always been a shy and solitary creature, but it’s rather hard to walk through an airport when you’re over six-and-a-half feet tall and built like an NFL linebacker and not draw attention. And initially it was… quite painful.”

I thought about the times I overdid it at the gym and tried to imagine what that felt like magnified to Hoppy’s extent. “I imagine it hurt like a motherfucker.”

“Colorful, but accurate. The physical changes were happening slowly at first, but as I understood them more and altered the process to accelerate the positive alterations, the changes became drastic and sudden. During one session, I gained four inches in height overnight, the result on my skeletal structure and overall physical state was… quite stressful.”

“I was wondering about that, actually.”

“Which part?”

“Skeletal structure. Aren’t bones kind of… hard?”

“As I mentioned, this is like a second puberty, or perhaps it’s like permanent puberty. In youth, your bones are growing fairly rapidly, though not obviously so quickly that you can manage a four-inch height gain in a single night. But everything about this body is altering to better suit its ongoing development and improvement, bones included.”

“So it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

He nodded. “My body’s development is aimed at feeling better and growing continually towards perfection. The pain was somehow diminished, and then eliminated, and then replaced with pleasure. It feels amazing to get bigger, now. I suppose the chemical processes in my brain are pumped with pleasure to mitigate whatever my physical body is feeling.”

“But… you still feel pain, right? Pain is necessary. It warns you when something is wrong.”

“I still feel pain. But the process itself no longer causes it. And after some dietary adjustments, the progress was vastly increased. What I put into my body provides a direct result to how it develops. My food intake is probably a lot higher than yours, but my body processes it incredibly quickly and effectively.”

“The better the fuel, the faster the engine.”

“Precisely. I have a computer program that provides the number of grams of whatever essential proteins and fat and nutrients are needed to result in the most potential for development. I just plug in what I want and it tells me what I need.”

“So, now you’re even directing your own evolution!”

“Partially. But what the waking mind craves and the resting mind creates aren’t always the same thing. So I can direct the actors, so to speak, but their performance is still their own. All aimed at that ultimate target of human perfection.”

“This is… incredible.”

“Thank you. I’m also rather impressed with myself.”

We looked at each other in relative silence, both highly aroused despite—or because of—Hoppy’s longwinded explanation of his transformation.

“I feel like I’ve forgotten something,” he said, his voice like a bear’s growl.

I said, “You were going to fuck me.”

“Ah, yes. But I feel like we need to start over having been interrupted by our meal, don’t you think?”

“You just like licking my ass,” I accused.

“Guilty as charged,” he agreed. He stood up again, a towering mountain of muscle and fur and cock and balls. “What… else do you like?”

“What else?”

“I’m… not very well educated in coital matters.”

I laughed slightly, thinking that this epitome of male beauty and seemingly unlimited sexual potential was asking me what I liked. “Oh?” I said, trying to seem composed even as my heart was racing and my dick was drooling all over the fucking place.

“I mean,” he said, lifting his large right hand to cup his left pec, his thumb plucking and rubbing his fat nipple, “I’ve watched some videos.”

“Of course,” I agreed. Who hasn’t watched porn?

“You know, when masturbating.”

“Sure.”

“Alone.”

“Uh huh.”

“With my penis in my hands.”

“Sure.”

“And when I say hands, that’s because… .”

“You’re so big.”

“I am,” he agreed.

“And what did these videos portray, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t mind,” he growled. His cock was now fully hard again, and throbbing with intense beats against his belly. He continued to play with his nipple as his other hand wound itself around the fat shaft of his cock and squeezed. A thick delivery of clear honey swelled at the tender lips of his cock head, gathering into a fat drop that swelled larger and larger until its weight led it to drool down the length of his prick. “It was a variety of sexual acts.”

“Sure. For educational purposes.”

“Exactly,” he said, starting to slowly—achingly slowly—stroke himself accompanied by the slick sound of his hand moving along the precum-lubricated surface of his steel-hard shaft. “Some of it was solo, just one man, enjoying his own body.”

“I see.”

“Caressing himself, stroking himself, allowing his touch to wander everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

He nodded. “Some were couples.”

“Two men?” He nodded. “No women?” He shook his head. “A pity. Women are extremely sensual and you might have learned some very valuable lessons.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip.

“And what else?” I asked.

His eyes stayed closed as he stroked. He started moving his hips and pushing his cock through his grip. He took some deep breaths and spoke very quietly. “Fucking.”

The word held power again. That unusual sexual power that sometimes struck me like hot wind against my naked skin. I started to take my shirt off. “Did you enjoy watching it?”

He nodded. The room was becoming warmer, almost as if that huge shower was again pumping steam around us, but there was no steam. “What did you enjoy?”

“The look of ecstasy on his face.”

“Whose face?”

“The man getting… fucked.” He said it with determination and lust.

“That turned you on?” Another silent nod. “What about it turned you on?”

“That the other man…”

“The fucker.”

“That the fucker could do that to his partner. Deliver such… intense pleasure. To make you feel so good that you can hardly stand it.”

“To make me feel so good?” Nod. “To watch my face as you fuck me, and see the effect you have on me?”

“Yes,” he moaned. He looked like he was ready to cum on the spot. His cock glistened with pre and his whole body was now writhing and stretching with obvious sexual power. “I want to fuck you and watch you. I want to watch you feel me inside you.”

“I want that too.” I stood up and slipped my pants off. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you on top of me, your power and your muscles. I want to feel you huge you are, how thick and massive those muscles are, and how huge your cock feels inside me. I want to kiss you when you fuck me, feel your long, luscious tongue inside my mouth, shoving down my throat like your fat, amazing dick. I want you to ride my ass until I’m shaking with lust and desire. I want to feel you swell and throb inside me and feel you pump thick, warm fountains of cum over and over and over.”

His eyes opened and he gasped. “I…” was all he said. My words were having an effect. His imagination kicked into gear and he was groaning and gasping and his body seemed to spasm as he approached orgasm.

I pushed him hard. I was good with words. “Your thick, gorgeous, rock-hard prick sliding inside my tight, warm hole. You can feel your balls growing heavy with a monster load of cum. You whole body throbs and tingled with anticipation.”

He gasped quickly twice, sucking in air. His massive chest bulged. “I’m gonna… .”

“And then you can feel it. You can feel it like electricity. You have to cum. You can’t stop it. It’s too powerful. You want it too strongly. Every muscle tenses and flexes with power and your cock swells and your asshole throbs and you can feel it, you can’t stop it, you’re going to explode.”

He let out a groan so deep and thick that it seemed to come from everywhere. He whispered something that I couldn’t make out. Something like “It’s happening.” I watched every muscle on his huge, titanic frame swell against his skin until every fiber of strength was visible. Veins popped on his arms and legs and pelvis. He ground his teeth together and pinched his eyes and pulled his hand from his fat, long, throbbing cock, practically spitting out strings of precum.

Hoppy threw back his head, stretched out his arms, emitted an impossibly deep series of groans from his massive chest, and I watched Hoppy’s massive muscular form bulging with fresh muscular growth before my eyes.

It happened in sudden bursts, as if he had to gather his strength or determination or something. He gasped deeply, there was a silent pause, then he groaned and I watched his body swelling in a series of erotic bulging pulses.

It was noticeable this time. If I had been imagining his slow, constant growth before, now there was no imagination necessary. I could see him growing muscle standing before me in his hotel penthouse.

A gasp, silence, a groan, and he was bigger. His arms, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his lats, his belts, his thighs, his calves, everything would just swell like he was flexing, but it didn’t return to its previous state. And the look on his face and the throbbing of his cock suggested he was in some sort of sexual ecstasy and it was happening to him.

It happened a half dozen times, and then he grasped himself again in his hands, one over the other on his towering beast, and he jerked his hips and shoved out several thick fountains of cum that splattered across his neck and chest and belly. He groaned with obvious rapture as his prick shot out his ponderous and thick load again and again.

And then, at the end, after a pause where he seemed to be gathering himself for something big or conclusive, he grasped himself so hard that his cock turned red and he shot a massive, final delivery that wasn’t just a pump of cum, but a stream. And accompanying that massive orgasmic blast, his whole muscular body swelled one last time as he groaned in absolute sexual gratification.

I was speechless as I watched. Nothing could have prepared me for what was happening to Hoppy, no matter how scientific his explanations were. I just watched a man develop fresh muscle all over his body while simultaneously experiencing what was quite possibly the most powerful and sexual orgasmic experience I had ever seen. It was as if one had fed the other, though I wasn’t sure if his muscles made his dick explode or vice versa.

He was still breathing hard, coated in cum that dripped from his thick curls of fur and ran in rivers through the valleys of his abs. He was shiny with sweat from the evident exertion of the act. When he opened his eyes and looked down at me again, as our eyes met each other, an overwhelming shock of pure sex pushed itself into my brain and my cock bulged and lengthened with shocking suddenness.

I found myself, seated before him, experiencing something like he had just experienced—an orgasm of profound and enormous depth that I was powerless to resist.

I pushed my own sudden and unexpected fountains of cream over my own body, grinding my teeth hard against the massive rush of absolute bliss. I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands and squeezed tears from my eyes. I couldn’t speak or form a coherent sentence if my life depended on it. All I could do was come.

Hoppy stood there in his newer body, covered in sweat and cum, and watched my reaction with interest and a bit of concern. Evidently no one had ever witnessed this, so no one had ever reacted to it, either.

I came at least a dozen pumps of cum and my balls ached and my cock throbbed and I could hardly breathe. Once the experience had subsided and I had some semblance of rational thought back, I shook my head and said, “Holy fucking fuck.”

“Sorry,” Hoppy said softly.

I looked up at him. He was magnificent. More magnificent. “Sorry?” I said. “For giving me the most intense sexual experience I have ever… experienced?” Even his face looked better. More masculine. More alluring. His jaw looked stronger or his nose looked more noble or maybe his brow was heavier, more masculine and powerful looking. Were his lips… more kissable? Soft and full and voluptuous. It wasn’t one thing but it was everything. Even his eyes looked more blue to me. But maybe that was just post-orgasmic bliss.

“Was it?”

“Fuck, yeah, it was! Holy fucking fuck!”

He looked down at himself, holding his arms out, moving his hands across the new thicker and broader contours of his chest, digging his fingers into the dark, furry, cum-sticky carpet of fur that grew so perfectly along his pacs. He squeezed his upper arms, his hands explored his more defined six-pack—or was it now an eight-pack?—moving his thin, perfect skin over the muscle curiously, and sighed. “Darn it,” he said as he flexed and tightened his newly grown biceps. They looked like footballs attached to his arms.

“What could possibly be the matter?”

“Now my clothes won’t fit again.” I almost laughed that his top concern was how he was going to dress his incredibly gorgeous body. “I wonder if they make dress shirts in stretch material?”

Now I did laugh, because I couldn’t help myself. “You just grew new muscle and you’re worried about your dress shirts?”

His instant-dick-inflator of a ridiculously handsome face looked honestly worried. “Do you think this hotel has a tailor?” Jesus, I think his voice was deeper, too.

“Hoppy. Dude. What just happened?”

“Oh! I grew again.”

“I know that part. The ‘why’ is what has me stumped.”

He started slowly exploring his newly developed muscle with a scientist’s idiosyncratic inquisitiveness. I’m certain he didn’t mean it, but every movement of his body was orgasm-inducing. There was an overt sensualness to him and his movements, whether that was intentional for my benefit or just the way this body performed I didn’t know and likely neither did Hoppy. As he moved his large hands around his body, testing the hardness of his muscle, squeezing and caressing and exploring, it was like watching someone actively seducing you with expert finesse, showing off exactly how beautiful they were, and letting you know that you could have them very easily.

“An orgasm is a powerful thing. Emotionally, physically, mentally, everything is involved.” His palms moved across his belly. “It’s maybe the most powerful act your body experiences.” He dug his fingers through the warm, sloppy wetness of his cum—and precum-soaked pubes. “So, logically, a powerful orgasm is going to have powerful consequences on one’s state of being. In my case… .” He brought up his arms and tensed them into full-blown awesome power. He looked at his biceps as he made them swell, admiring himself with obvious lust. His exposed armpits were pumping out his very pungent and erotic funk, bathing my senses in his strongly arousing redolence, like I was diving headfirst into an ocean of cum.

My dick was still throbbing from my surprise explosion. I was sticky and warm and covered in spunk. But as I watched Hoppy put on a little muscular display for me, pumping out that masculine fragrance and showing off how much bigger he had become, my libido was shaking at its cage all over again. When he turned around and I saw his new and improved ass—which, again, was perfect to begin with—I think I gasped or yelped or made some kind of animal noise. It was practically glowing with invitation. Two muscular mounds made for hard fucking, and to be deeply fucked. “And does this… happen often?”

His hands were caressing the smooth, powerful contours of his round, gorgeous butt. “It used to happen all the time, after my first growth experiences.” Then he looked up at me and said, “But it tapered off, so I think I can blame you for this one.”

“I’ll accept the blame happily.” I tilted my head. “But, like, I never even touched you.”

“You have… a way with words.”

“How much bigger do you think you are? And does it always happen like that?”

“Like what?”

“It looked like you grew bigger with every ejaculation. Every time you came, you swelled with muscle. Like, uuuhhhh, bulge. Uuuuhhhh, bulge. Uuuuuhhhhh! Fucking bulge!”

“You mean, more like… .” He mimicked my comical retelling but in his deep, powerful bass timbre. He groaned in his throat and then—flexed! Groooooan, flex! Grooooooooaaaaaaannnnnn. Holy fuck! “I think so, but when I’m experiencing that, it’s hard to concentrate on anything. But it feels like it.”

I gasped in some air to calm my libido. “What does it feel like?”

He closed his eyes and started flexing his muscles again. Not like before, with sudden hard plumping, but slowly. Sensually. Almost like a dance. God he was beautiful. “Intense. Powerful. Overwhelming.” His cock was throbbing and starting to plump again. He did mention that his ejaculate and semen production was also abnormally high. Could he have just exploded so hard he painted the ceiling—and be ready to go again so quickly?

I was watching his arousal manifest and asked, “So… what’s going to happen when you fuck me?”

His jewel-like eyes flicked open. “You still want to… ?” He blushed! He actually blushed! Like, his whole fucking magnificent muscular body blushed! It was fucking sexy. “Anything could happen,” Hoppy said.

“Like… bigger?” He nodded. “Everywhere?” He nodded again. “While you’re fucking me?”

He shrugged this time. “I’ve never… done that. So I don’t know what could happen, exactly.”

“But anything could.”

He looked chagrined. “I think so.” He swallowed hard. “I’m… very aroused.”

“The feeling is mutual.” I stood up and circled the table towards him. Every step in his direction made my skin grow warmer, and my mouth go dryer, and my dick get harder. “So, theoretically, you could be fucking me, and while you’re fucking me, your fuckpole,” I grabbed him around his shaft. Damn, maybe it was already bigger! “… could get even bigger… while you’re fucking me.”

“Theoretically,” he agreed.

I stoked him, just once, very slowly. “But, you explained that this happened when you sleep.”

“It… also happens when I sleep.” He kept his gaze on my face the whole time. “And sometimes when I’m aroused.”

“And sometimes when you orgasm.”

“Sometimes,” he said softly, as if embarrassed.

I leaned towards him. “And you can’t control it.”

He gulped. “Not… completely. At least, not so far.”

“So you’ve tried to.”

He nodded. “I was… kind of concerned my penis was getting too large to be practical.”

I glanced down at the thick abundance and head-spinning length I held in my grip, allowing a thick string of spit to drool from my lips onto the head of his prick as I continued to coax him towards full power again. “Sure, anyone would worry about that.”

“You said yourself you wondered if I was too big for you.”

I hadn’t said that in so many words, but I certainly implied it—though I found myself regretting it now. But who could have predicted that before the day was finished, I’d be having a discussion with a guy whose foot-long erection might swell inches bigger while he was fucking my ass? My gaze was still locked on that fat, juicy beauty of a perfect prick. I used his foreskin to wet the head go his cock with my spit, and I licked my lips. “I’m willing to try. More than willing. Anxious even.”

“You’re sure?” I felt him throb hard in my hand, like a test, selling against my grip, forcing my fingers apart.

“I’m positive,” I answered. Then I rose on my tiptoes, put my free hand behind his thicker, more powerful neck, and pressed my lips to his. “Fuck me, baby,” I whispered, and kissed him again. “Fuck me hard.”

The always practical Hoppy said, “We should shower.”

He started pulling away to head towards the bathroom to wash himself of all the copious cum he’d sprayed all over his swelling muscles but I continued grasping his dick, pulling him back towards me. “It’s hotter this way.”

He looked dubious. “And stickier.”

“I want to smell you,” I said. “I want to taste you. Raw. From all over your body. Every inch of you. With my tongue.” Well, I did have a way with words.

“Before we get started, should we have a safe word?”

“A safe word?” Was my old high school best friend a nasty S&M fucker under all that polite formalism? It’s always the quiet ones, I mused. My cock swelled imagining this muscular body sheathed in leather. Talk about a real live Tom of Finland wet dream. Holy fuck.

“Isn’t that what it’s called?” Even a face that handsome couldn’t disguise a dirty mind with feigned innocence. Or maybe particularly a face that handsome? This man could walk into any sex venue in any city at any time of the day or night and ask for anything he wanted and get it with head-spinning immediacy. They’d be lining up on their knees to service him.

Not that they’d need to be on their knees if he kept growing.

“Exactly what kind of porn have you been stroking to, Hoppy?” I squeezed him playfully and tugged on his dick, making his body jerk towards me. I was the one in charge, now.

And he liked it! He was smiling with a look of arousal so plain that it might as well be on a condom wrapper. “Just… the usual kind. Of porn.”

“Uh huh,” I said. I couldn’t help smiling thinking of my pal Hoppy stroking his cock in his lab sitting naked in front of some huge set of wall-sized monitors displaying a variety of kinks for, you know, investigative purposes. “What’s usual, in your porn world?”

He shrugged and blushed. “ I dunno,” he answered. “Just… stuff.”

“Leather?” He nodded. “Piss play?” His lips pursed, and then he nodded. “Frottage?”

“What’s frontage?”

“Some dudes get off on holding their dicks together and feeling them swell.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“Sounding?”

“There seemed to be a lot of sexual acts I’m not familiar with.”

“Sounding is when you stick a small, thin rod—usually metal but sometimes glass—into your urethra and down your cock.”

He made a grimace. “Do you… like that?”

“I’ve never tried it,” I admitted. “But I like watch other guys do it. Well, certain other guys. With big dicks.”

He looked down at his big dick. “What does it feel like?”

“I’ve heard it described as being stroked from the inside, if you can imagine that.” I looked at his fat nipples and asked, “Piercing?”

He followed my gaze to his chest. “I’ve been… curious about that. But it seems so permanent. What if I don’t like it?”

“Do you like having your nipples played with?”

“Only a lot,” he admitted, as his hand started rising towards his chest as if to illustrate the point, but then it fell back.

I watched his hand move, grinning. “You’d probably like it.” He seemed to be considering it when I steered us back to the matter at hand. “Okay. A safe word, huh?” He nodded seriously. “How about when, if I scream get the fuck out of my ass, you get the fuck out of my ass?”

He smiled, and then chuckled. A warm, deep rumble. “That sounds fair.” He set his feet a bit wider, sliding himself fully into my control. “So, are we just going to stand here with my cock in your hand, or am I going to fuck you?”

“The latter,” I said, and then I started tugging by the dick towards the bedroom, the servant to do my bidding.


It felt like several hours had passed since we were last together on the bed, because so much had changed. I was just getting used to the new, improved Hoppy and his many hidden and not-so-hidden talents when here I was with a newer, improveder Hoppy, now with even more miles per gallon!

I tried to figure out the best entry angle for our fuck in consideration of the strong possibility that his cock could swell and lengthen inside me at the very moment when getting him to pull out would be nearly impossible. It wasn’t something I ever considered before but then my short-lived foray into fist-fucking came bubbling back and I knew how we should proceed.

Hoppy looked disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to watch me get fucked like he had seen it on that favored porn of his, but I assured him I would amply prove my pleasure at the sensation of his gorgeous cock shoving inside me with a wide variety of probably very loud and sometimes embarrassing vocal exercises, which might will include some instructions for him as well as more than a few swear words, some of which were likely to be quite colorful and creative in nature.

He seemed satisfied with that.

I planted myself on the bed on all fours, with my head near the headboard as a bed is made for. It gives one something to hold on to when your ass is being invaded by a foot-long shank of pure sex by a muscle god big enough to bench press a Ford F-250. I even checked to see if it was bolted to the wall—which it was.

I admit that initially I was going into it more like a sport or an Olympic fuck event. Like, the Grandmaster of Fucking Challenge or something. We could sell tickets. And Hoppy could tell, because there I was all ready, willing and able and… nothing happened. No knock at the back door, no friendly tongue action, nothing!

I looked over my shoulder and wagged my prime ass at him. “Well?”

“Uh, could we start off a little bit differently? I mean, I appreciate your enthusiasm very much but I kind of like… .”

I jumped around like a frolicking puppy, my excited cock bobbing like one of those toy birds that drink water, but more dick-like. “What do you like?” I teased, pushing my fingers into my mouth and sucking them, pulling them out all shiny with spit and licking it off.

Hoppy’s cock literally jumped. “Uhhhh…”

I licked my lips, winding my tongue around and around, and sucked my fingers again. I was being silly but its affect on Hoppy’s libido was quite plain. His cock was throbbing hard and drooling pre in a steady stream. It looked almost comical, the way it jerked to a steady rhythm and its little, supple mouth was open, that flow of warm sex honey winding its way along his metronome shaft.

I reached my spit-wet fingers towards his prick and stroked him, gathering a goodly amount of his pre in my palm which I then lifted to my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and licked it off.

Fuck, he tasted good. I wondered idly whether he’d fucked around with even that aspect of his body, maybe formulating the perfect sexy cum taste if that was possible. His cock was jumping like a happy dog and I imagined him trying to shove that massive hunk of meat inside me while to was throbbing and jerking with those powerful pulses.

I moved up to him, both of us on our knees, and pressed my naked body against his. He started to move his hands on my shoulders but I shook my head and said, “No hands. Just bodied. Your body against mine. Mine against yours.”

“Can we kiss?’ He swallowed hard. “Please?”

“Maybe,” I said. “If you’re good.”

“What does good mean?”

I licked his nipple. “Good means what I say it means.”

“Is…” He sucked in a ragged, heated breath. “Is this role-play?”

“Maybe,” I teased. “What role did you want to play?”

“I’ll do anything you want me to,” he said, echoing an earlier promise. His huge, hard erection was throbbing steadily against my belly. I could feel his constant river of pre like a warm bath one my skin.

“No, Hoppy,” I answered. “This time, you get to call the shots. This time,” I paused, reaching my lips up to kiss his, feeling his long tongue pushing inside my mouth as his cock pulsed even harder, even faster, “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“But I don’t know… .”

“Knowing isn’t important. Feeling is. What do you want me to do, Hoppy?” I kissed his mouth again, still keeping my hands off his gorgeous, hot, muscular form. “Just ask me.”

“Touch me,” he said. “I love when you touch me.”

“Touch you where?”

“My chest,” he said. I kissed one nipple and then the other, dragging my tongue over his vulnerable nubs. “Yes,” he breathed softly. “Harder. Use… use your hands.”

“But you can’t use yours,” I told him.

He seemed to think about it—I could feel his hands grasping and clenching near my hips, his fingertips gently brushing my butt—but eventually he groaned. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“But… I want to…”

“Sometimes what we want and what we need are separate things. Do you want to touch me, or do you need me to touch you?”

“Touch me,” he whispered.

I began to explore his body as we huddled on the bed together, I could hear him breath and groan and sigh no matter where my hands caressed him. Was his entire body an erogenous zone? He shook with bliss when I was licking his neck and my fingers twisted and plucked his nipples, which were—like mine—extremely sensitive.

His cock was pouring pre like a syrup dispenser. It was pressed between our bodies as I moved my hands along his wide, tapered back and squeezed his muscular, thick ass and rubbed his hole with my fingers. It was pulsing and throbbing so hard that it seemed like a separate thing between us—like a very large, very hard, very warm, battery-powered dildo with a strong, but slow, vibrator attached to it.

Throb. Throb. Throb. Throb.

When I touched his hole, the throbs grew both stronger and more intense.

throbthrobthrobthob

I started to use its ceaseless, powerful pulsing like an evaluation of my effectiveness, allowing it to teach me in a very sensual manner exactly where Hoppy was the most vulnerable to my ministrations.

True to his words, he never touched me with his hands, but I could tell it was like a kind of torture for him. He would raise them occasionally, obviously meaning to hold me, or stroke me, or guide me, but he would always lower them again because I would stop whatever I was doing when I sensed his anxiousness.

I was certain that if I kept this up, I could make Hoppy come without ever even touching his dick. He was in some exquisite sexual heaven, feeling my hands and mouth exploring his body, feeling our cocks pressed together as mine rubbed on his and his throbbed and drooled and pulsed between us.

He was crazy horny after a few minutes of this. His body was slick with sweat and his intoxicating and erotic scent was very strong. I could practically taste it in his sweat, as if arousal was something he was leaking from his pores because he had so fucking much of it. His prick was practically buzzing with need.

Which was when I pulled my hands and mouth off his body and said, “Your turn.”

He was momentarily caught off guard, sunken into some deep well of sensual bliss. I grabbed his cock—fuck, that thing literally was buzzing, now pulsing and throbbing so fast that I wondered if he was having a heart attack—and he opened his eyes and groaned like a bull. I rubbed my thumb over his helmet, gooey and slick with pre, and rubbed the highly sensitive lips of its small, drooling mouth. “Your turn,” I repeated softly.

He looked at me and licked his lips, as if pondering exactly what he wanted to do with me. My brain was sizzling with lust for him and I wanted him to throw me down on that fucking bed, pry my ass open and push himself inside, fucking me so hard and deep that I’d walk funny for a month.

He slowly lifted his hands and placed them around my face with a tenderness that took me off guard. Then he leaned in and kissed my mouth with equal tenderness, a kiss that lingered, one that he was obviously enjoying if the increasingly hard throbbing of his cock was any indication.

His hands started to move down my body. Onto my neck, them my shoulders, along my back, encircling me with their size and power, and then Hoppy was embracing me and pulling me tighter against him, the kiss never stopping, his hot, hard prick practically vibrating between us.

I don’t know how long we kissed, or what he was thinking—if he had the capability of thinking anything at all, what with all the blood leaving his body and rushing into his magic, throbbing cock—but it was the most intimate experience I had ever felt. While I had been playing with his body, exploring and rubbing and caressing, Hoppy was pouring intense desire and lust and love into this embrace.

It was everything.

When the kiss finally ended and I was left breathless and panting with my chin resting on his form, muscular shoulder, all I could say was, “Fuck me.”

His body shook with desire. It was like he was humming already.

“I’ll do anything you want me to,” he answered.

My heart was racing. I was excited and scared, and each emotion was feeding the other.

I knew that Hoppy would never intentionally hurt me, and I’d managed big dicks before, but Hoppy’s was… massive. It was larger than the largest dildo I owned, and that’s saying something. I thought about the way he pumped pre and the way his dick throbbed with clocklike regularity and what those might feel like inside my ass, a huge, wet, hot, hard prick stretching my hole to its limits as he rubbed against my prostate while throbbing with increasingly intense pulses.

I thought about asking him about that—how his cock throbbed like something that normally needed batteries—but wondered if it was one of those things that happens without thinking about it, and once you start thinking about it, it stops happening.

Sex is often weird, I think we all agree on that. The problem is that sometimes we think we’re weird for finding unusual things sexual. One of my theories about sex is that it is most enjoyed when you allow your body to do what it wants to—or needs to—and not to think about it too much. Try things, do things, don’t be afraid you’re weird or whatever because you enjoy seeing underarm hair, or licking earlobes, or watching two men rut around in mud before trying to wrestle each other into submission, you do you, buddy boy. No judgment here.

And it was evident that Hoppy had a lot of unexplored interests and fetishes and kinks. Maybe they were always there, maybe his newly powerful libido simply liked… everything. His body was now more attuned to pleasure and satisfaction and using that as the yardstick for how it continued developing. Would it also naturally start to find everything pleasurable and satisfying? What developments might emerge when he started to experience those more… unusual forms of sexual gratification?

If a powerful orgasm made him grow more muscular and handsome—’improving his beneficial genetic analogies to his cellular principal’ as he so unsexily put it—what would be unlocked in him if we started to actively explore the things he considered “interesting”?

On the other hand, did this man really need more stimulation? I was sort of inspired to see what would happen if we turned Hoppy into the ultimate leather daddy, watching him swell with furry muscle to fill out a pair of crotchless chaps and a harness. Though technically all chaps are crotchless, but I enjoy saying ‘crotchless’ in pretty much any connotation.

Getting those fat nipples pierced and adding a Prince Albert to that extremely impressive cock meat? Leering at that prime piece of bubblicious butt walking down a public street on the way to Fulsom in San Francisco or Mr. International Leather in Chicago? Catching sight of all the other men literally drooling with lust as he passed them, leaving behind that funky fog of sex juice he seemed now to be pumping out by the metric ton? Sign me up, boys!

And to me, the sexiest thing about him was that when I looked past the gorgeous, irresistible face and the stupidly sexy chest and its thick furry coat and those massive upper arms and that fat, mouthwatering prick and that magic cocksucking ass—he was still 100% Hoppy. He was the dude I loved hanging out with so many years ago, the kind, sweet, gentle, supportive, a-friend-through-anything guy, with Hoppy’s bright, open smile on those newly formed sensual lips and Hoppy’s focused, intelligent gaze behind those mesmerizing blue eyes.

There was Hoppy, as I always remembered him.

And now Hoppy was going to pound my ass into this bed until I couldn’t think a coherent thought from the unyielding onslaught of pleasure.

He was kissing me and caressing me and stroking me with utter lust. His fingers were rubbing my hole and taint. His mouth was kissing mine, and then he was kissing and licking my neck. I could feel the heat of his erection between us like a hot poker, almost imagining that it might soon be in that same position except lodged inside my butt and pushing and throbbing against my prostate, the head managing somehow to be leaking precum behind my sternum.

I was having trouble forming words, but I managed to say, “Okay, before we start you should…”

I didn’t manage to finish my advice before he physically manhandled me, tossing my smaller frame onto the bed before him, setting his hands to my ankles, pulling my legs up and apart, and diving forward to start eating my ass again.

I think we managed to find at least one new sexual act that Hoppy not only enjoyed, but was already fairly professional in his handling and enjoyment of his tongue on, in, and around my butt hole. My god, the man was an insatiable ass eater. I was sweating and squirming and making sounds like a chipmunk in heat. He was licking and slurping and lapping at my ass, then pushing his tongue inside deeper and deeper and deeper still, tongue fucking me as I had never even dreamed of being tongue fucked.

My ass felt like it was dripping and quivering and pulsing as he spent minutes down there, holding my lags apart and my ass open for his butt munching appetites.

At some point I think I was about to come and I wanted to warn him, because I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing, but almost exactly as I opened my mouth to try to speak, I felt my body being manhandled once again and I opened my eyes to watch Hoppy move into a better position to insert his peg into my hole.

He was gazing at my spit-lubed ass with a look of a man on a mission. His cock was steel-hard and drooling. He tried sort of guiding his erection towards my hole, moving his hips and pelvis and trying to position his prick like a crane over a junk yard, but I knew that thing wasn’t about to move from its upright position without some help, which was when he came to the same conclusion himself and release my legs from his hands. “How do I… start?”

I nearly laughed out loud again. After spending all that time slurping at my ready hole, he wasn’t sure of his next steps. I let my feet rest on the bed with my knees bent and my ass pointed at him. “I find that if you get the head in, the rest is easy.”

He looked at my butt like an engineer assessing some alien tech. I mean, he had a cock and I had a hole and it’s pretty simple when you think about it. The muscles along his arms bulged and flexed as he grabbed hold of himself and bent that god-like erection towards me. He kissed the mouth of his prick to my hole and I shuddered feeling him knocking. “Do I just… .I mean, do I…”

“Just fuck me!”

Okay, so I really wanted him inside. Sue me for being anxious.

Luckily for me, Hoppy didn’t take revenge on my impatience and shove himself home, splitting me like a roasted pig on his dick. He was rubbing himself against me with the spongey head of his cock. It felt like he was kissing my butt with warm, soft lips—which I suppose he was. The look of concentration on his face was a bit humorous, as he methodically painted my tender rosebud with honey.

Then he pushed.

We both groaned with pleasure at the same time. Mine was more like a little whimper of a child finally getting his candy, his was like the sound I imagine a grizzly bear makes when he’s fucking. “I’m in,” he said proudly.

“I know,” I advised him. “Keep going.”

He started to slowly, carefully shift his hips and his eyes rolled into his head. “Oh my god,” he said softly.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“This feels… so good. Oh my god.” He opened his blue eyes to glance up at my face away from my butt. “Does it feel good to you?”

I was already breathing hard. “To coin a phrase,” I said, gulping deep, “oh my god.”

“Should I… ?”

“Keep going,” I repeated.

“I’m going to push in deeper.”

“Yes,” I agreed. Do that. Deeper.

He stopped fucking and I could feel the strong intrusion of his cock inside me. I tried to relax against him but it was difficult because of how thick he was. The head was narrow and then the shaft swelled out very thickly almost immediately. He grunted and I shuddered. Then he started fucking me again, accompanied by slick, wet, slurping noises as my ass suctioned onto his prick.

He closed his eyes again and reached up to play with his own nipples as he fucked me. He was making my whole body shift with the power of his strokes, and I grabbed the sheets and held on. He kept whispering “oh my god” and twisted his head on his muscled neck.

“Deeper,” I said.

He paused and pushed inside. Several inches of him had to be inside me by now. My ass lips burned with the size of him and I gasped, which made him stop. “Too much?”

“One second,” I asked. “Just give me a second.”

He reached down and stroked my belly and my chest. “We don’t have to…”

“Yes, we do,” I told him. “Just let me… adjust.”

“You feel so good, Hulkster. So good.” A thick, strong wave of his sexual scent assailed me. It made my nostrils sting and my mouth go dry and my ass to relax. It made me so fucking horny. It made everything feel good. “Okay,” I said. “Keep going.”

He started fucking again, more quickly now, sliding himself in and out of me. I could feel him there, the ridge of the helmet and the thick veins that pumped hot blood to his monster. I was so tight around him that I could feel every detail of his cock. “Yes,” I groaned. “Deeper.”

He started hitting my prostate and I could feel that pulsing sensation from his cock. He pushed inside until he nudged it and he stopped, several thick inches of him pulsing and throbbing inside me, sending out these weird, amazing, erotic waves I could feel in the core of my soul. He felt the hard, soft surface against him. “Is that?”

“Yes,” I answered.

He moved slightly and rubbed against it. “Can you feel me?” A thick, sudden throb vibrated against my prostate, sending a deep and intense ripple of sex rippling out across my body. “Holy fuck.”

He caressed my abs with his warm palm again. “Everything all right?”

“Everything is… fucking incredible.” He throbbed again as if in response to my praise. “Your cock.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s… throbbing.”

“Yeah,” he said. It throbbed again. Quicker this time. “Does it feel good?”

“Fuck yes,” I moaned. “How… ?”

His dick started to fucking vibrate! Swear to god, his cock was a fucking battery-powered vibrating dildo in my ass. “You know what Kegels are?”

My brain was pretty focused on the sensation happening inside my butt. “Kegels?”

“It’s an exercise to strengthen the pelvic floor.” His cock was vibrating steadily now, and he started sliding himself in and out, rubbing against my prostate, vibrating in my ass. “It’s a way to strengthen those muscles, they surround the prostate and rectum.”

This seemed like an inopportune time to be discussing exercises. “Okay.” My voice was vibrating as well as his dick was doing amazing things inside me.

“I’ve improved them.” There was a touch of pride in his voice. He’d worked on this. He practiced this like an Olympic-grade sexual athlete.

“Kegels?”

He throbbed again. “My pelvic floor muscles.” He was now steadily vibrating. “Like this.” He held up his hand with his index finger stretched forward. Suddenly, he started wagging it up and down quickly. Then it got quicker. And even quicker. Soon it was moving so fast that it was little more than an indistinct aspect of his finger, moving so quickly that all I could watch was a flesh-colored fan-shaped blur. “Same principle. I guess along with bigger muscles, I gained some additional control.”

I think I gasped or something. “Some?”

“Do you want more?”

I was gripping the sweaty sheets hard. Veins stood out on my arms from the strain. The pleasure was extraordinary. Like nothing I had ever felt. It made my whole body feel like he was fucking me. Waves of profound sexual power were emanating from my ass and radiating outward to reach every part of me. I nodded acceptance and his prick went into hyperdrive.

Was he a man or a machine? How the fuck could he make his cock do this? I couldn’t deny it was happening but I had a hard time understanding how it was possible. This constant almost violent nudging of my prostate was forcing a stream of pre to drool from my hard-on and I was almost losing control of myself under this unexpected sexual onslaught.

Hoppy was fucking me with a foot-long, Coke bottle thick cock capable of vibrating as he fucked me. To say that this was an unexpected turn of events on a day filled with them is an understatement. What else was his new, improved body capable of? How far had he pushed this envelope? Was there even an envelope left?

I was about to quickly find out.

Turns out Hoppy didn’t just look strong, he was strong. Motherfucking strong. I’m not sure where he got the idea from—maybe some interesting porn he watched, or some ludicrous fetish fiction about muscle sex—but his hands, as they explored me, and his arms, embraced around me, with his cock inside me, lifted me up from the bed and fucking sat me down on his dick. If I thought I was delirious with sexual overload before, now I was sitting on Hoppy’s enormous and talented cock, surrounded by his muscular arms, caressed with his large, strong hands, and being kissed by the softest, warmest pair of lips that god or science ever designed.

And then the tongue started in, and I lost it completely and started pumping cum all over Hoppy’s huge, bulging, furry pecs. Was I bouncing on his cock or was his cock making me bounce? It felt like I was unleashing all the cumulative cum I had ever come in my life, as he rubbed and pulsed and vibrated inside me.

It felt a bit as if he was literally pushing cum from my body, or squeezing it out, or pulling it from my balls using some weird, secret, super power. He was kissing me and holding me and fucking me and then his lips released mine and he tossed his shaggy head back and gasped and groaned and I could feel it, I could feel him explode, I could feel a warm, sudden, massive flood fountaining inside me.

Then his eyes were focused on mine and his lips were grinning and he was sucking air through his nostrils and he watched my face, locked on my gaze, as he blasted his load in my ass. It was, without a doubt, the sexiest fucking thing I had ever experienced in my life. He groaned and came and I came and we were coming all over each other, inside and out.

His embrace tightened. I could feel every bulging muscle in his arms as he held me. His mighty chest rose and fell, swelling and receding. I came again, my hard-on lodged against his abs, the head of my dick spitting cream into the deep, warm forest of dark curls massed on his pecs. Cum was dripping from his nipples. My cum. So I added more.

Maybe I was delirious but it never occurred to me to wonder how I was managing to unload another thick delivery of cream after pushing an Academy Award winning amount inside Hoppy’s magical cocksucking ass.

And I was still coming.

And so was Hoppy.

Fuck, it felt… amazing. Fucking amazing. It was like achieving nirvana, some mythical, supernatural state of perfect sexual being. It is what I assume heaven is if heaven involves having a huge, vibrating, thick, warm, perfect prick pumping streams of cum inside you. It was ecstasy wrapped in euphoria pushed inside bliss and slathered in a thick, warm, creamy layer of pure sex.

I mean, long story short, and not to stress the point too severely, but is was fucking amazing. Hoppy was fucking amazing.

I could go on and on with this as it went on and on, but suffice it to say that I was on the verge of going insane with pleasure. And that was when his dick, still hard as steel and thick as a pop bottle, starting throbbing again.

I mean, my god, man, do you even have an off switch?

He groaned and I could feel it all through my body. He was vibrating inside and out, holding me against him as he came inside me, throbbing and groaning and growling and… growing.

It was happening again. He would pump and grow, pump and grow. I could feel it, this time, feel his body swelling with more muscle, feeling his muscles, hard and strong and sexy, pushing against me. At first I thought he was just holding me tighter, but I could feel his pecs pushing against my dick. I could physically feel his chest growing thicker.

“You’re…”

“Mm hmm.”

“You can…”

“Mmmmm.”

“How big… ?”

He came. He grew. He groaned. “Feels so good.”

“Don’t hold back,” I whispered.

“What if… ?”

“Don’t hold back.”

He pressed his lips to mine and held me tighter. His cock started throbbing with strong, hard pushes inside me. And with every pulse, with every pump of cum, with every surge of pure sex between us, Hoppy grew bigger.

Hoppy’s body was emanating sex. That was the only way to describe it. I assume if that poor but horny bellhop came back to the room to gather up the tray and dishes, he would have witnessed a huge, thickly muscular, gorgeous naked man holding a second pretty well-built and formerly also considered muscular man and they were both glowing like a nuclear meltdown. But instead of being horribly radioactive, they were instead visually throbbing with a light like ET’s finger except the light was made of sex and the sex was spreading outward from them like a fog bank also made of sex.

And as he watched—because who wouldn’t—one of the men’s bodies, or more accurately his muscles, were growing. He would hear the man groan and shift his hips, obviously because his dick was deeply, deeply inserted into the other man’s extremely happy hole, and then the man’s muscles would look as if he were flexing, except the muscles wouldn’t return to their former relaxed state.

They would stay larger, more defined, more developed. And then, after a moment, as the huge man kissed the smaller man’s mouth and he groaned again with a deep and gorgeous erotic surge, his muscles would flex again, larger still, pushing against his naked skin, the fibers and cables of raw brawn seeming to multiply and expand, and then he was slightly bigger again.

It would probably be at that point that the poor but horny bellhop would spontaneously cream inside his pants with a huge, thick, sticky, sloppy explosion of cum because the room itself was super-saturated with something that smelled exactly like raw masculine fucking, with a pungency so penetrating and powerful that it coated his skin with sex and infiltrated his senses with bliss and made his whole body heat up. And as he watched the men fucking, and experienced a sudden, hands-free, totally unexpected cocksplosion of his own, he’d hear the large man groan like a bear and watch his body tense and flex and then the big man would be even bigger.

Before each new swelling of power and muscle, Hoppy’s body grew very warm against me. There was an energy in play, a build-up of something inside him that was getting bigger and stronger with every fresh creamy fountain he was unleashing inside my ass. Then, with one last very powerful throb, Hoppy gasped and groaned and unleashed a thick jet of cum like a geyser, his throbbing cock swelling huge and his whole body shaking, and I felt his muscles bulge wildly. Then his sweaty forehead was resting on my shoulder as he sucked in deep breaths accompanied by giddy laughter and his body-changing, muscle-growing orgasm was done.

“Holy fuck,” was about the only thing I could think of to say.

His head was on my shoulder and his chest was shoving against me as he pulled deep, calming breaths into his lungs. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

He laughed warmly and raised his head to meet my eyes. His azure blue gaze was mesmerizing. “Pretty sure,” he said.

His hair was hanging is sweaty strands across his features and his skin was warm and wet. His prick was no longer throbbing or vibrating but he’d been doing it so long inside me that I felt like I was still vibrating anyway. Maybe I was. The intensity of what I’d just experienced was beyond sex.

“I probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” is what he said next, which was maybe at the bottom of a list of things I expected him to say.

“Okay,” I answered, confused.

He squeezed his ass and his cock swelled inside me. “It sometimes happens,” he said. “I get bigger after I’ve eaten.”

“You just… get bigger?”

“Not every time,” he explained. His cock bulged again. “But that was a big lunch.”

I squeezed my butt against him and he groaned again. “That’s just a reminder that your cock is still in my butt.”

“I know,” he said, grinning. “I like it there.”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t you… .like me there?” He throbbed inside me.

“I confess that I do, but I’m not sure this is an entirely sustainable position for us both.”

“No?”

“I imagine us walking into the reunion like this might be a bit surprising.”

“Which part? The naked part or the I’m bigger than I used to be part?”

“The you’re continually fucking me part.”

“Are we still fucking? I’m new at this, you know.”

“We are, as far as I’m concerned, still fucking. You are still fucking me. We’re fucking.”

He grinned. My god, he was handsome. “I like it.”

“Sure, but to be fair, I’m very good at it.”

“You have references?”

“I have a resume, references. I used to have a cover letter but that seemed a little too formal.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I appreciate a full understanding of any potential staff member.”

“Ha ha, you said ‘member.’” He laughed. Even that felt good.

We looked at each other and his embrace strengthened. “You’re sure we can’t just stay this way?”

“Not indefinitely. At some point I’m going to need to pee and I’m not sure what other unique sexual peccadilloes you enjoy and I’m perfectly happy to piss all over your furry chest but even that will start to smell after a while and…”

“Okay, I think I get your point.” His head tilted then and he added, “So, people like… that?”

“Getting pissed on? Oh, sure. There’s a fetish for pretty much everything the human body can do. I find it best not to judge anything too harshly.”

“Like how I enjoyed you ejaculating on my chest?”

“Exactly like that.”

“Hmm,” he concluded.


I felt empty—literally and figuratively—when Hoppy finally pulled himself free of my hungry little butt. I assumed I was going to walk funny for about a month after having that fleshy baseball bat pushed up my ass but walking to the bathroom was surprisingly easy, other than the wealth of Hoppy’s cum dripping down my legs.

He must have pushed a pint of cream inside me. He started to apologize again when I stopped him to mention that as much as he enjoyed me coming on his chest—which was now two massive globes that almost looked like boobs except made of muscle—I enjoyed him coming in my ass so copiously that it was more than I could handle.

To say that Hoppy was now even larger was like saying that Texas is bigger than Rhode Island or the Statue of Liberty is bigger than a Barbie doll. I was so insane with pleasure while it was happening that I certainly didn’t have the state of mind to count how many times he came inside me, and how many times, therefore, his body had swelled with fresh muscle. But there was no way to deny the truth of what was happening to Hoppy

I started to have my suspicions about Hoppy’s sudden muscular and sexual development as being more recent than he had admitted to. The evidence was literally staring me in the face—at least, his fat, chewy nipples kind of looked like eyes staring me in the face.

Also I really want to chew on his fat nipples.

It was growing crystal clear that what was happening to Hoppy wasn’t just his size or muscular development. He was growing more… masculine. And that it was happening very quickly. Returning to the bedroom I was faced with a sight I never could have predicted, and one that was somehow both arousing and concerning.

Hoppy was attempting to put his clothes back on. And to say that he was unsuccessful in his attempt was an understatement.

You know how The Hulk looks after he Hulks out? With his shirt in tatters and his pants reduced to shorts and his big feet too big for his shoes? Well, picture that, except the pants can’t handle the size of his butt and cock so The Hulk could be arrested for indecent exposure if people weren’t drooling over his handsome face and incredible body.

His back was to me so he didn’t get to see my shocked expression or the way my dick was somehow returning to its excited-to-see-him state. He was standing there slowly ripping his clothes apart as he tried pulling the sleeves over his massive arms. The seams along the back of the shirt had also been ripped open, with his V-shaped lats emerging like wings. The seat of his trousers had split, allowing easy access to his sweet and talented hole, and the sides of his pants had given up the ghost under the onslaught of his incredibly ripped thighs.

I laughed slightly despite myself which drew his attention and he turned around and I laughed again. His dick—thick and heavy and gorgeous—was hanging out of his undone zipper, obviously because he could no longer contain his bulge in the crotch of his pants. He looked both ridiculous and weirdly sexy. “My clothes don’t fit.”

“You think?”

“No, you don’t understand. These are the bigger clothes.”

“The bigger clothes.”

He nodded. “I calculated my growth rate and brought these in case of development, but I must have miscalculated.”

“You mean my sexiness?”

“What?”

“You miscalculated my sexiness? So you got bigger than you anticipated? Because of my sexiness?”

“You’re joking.”

“Not very well, apparently.” I assessed his ripped clothes and ultra-ripped body and said, “Don’t you think it was time you were straight with me?”

“About what?”

“You’re growing so quickly that you can’t fit into your bigger clothes. Your dick vibrates like a sex toy. Your face has been growing more handsome just in the time we’ve been together.”

“You think I’m more handsome?” He seemed genuinely pleased.

I nodded. “And you’re at least an inch taller, too.”

“Two inches,” he corrected. My eyebrows rose in surprise and curiosity. “It’s accelerating.”

“What is?”

“The process.”

“The process of the new improved Hoppy.”

He sighed. “I suppose I should have anticipated this. The changes aren’t stable.”

He didn’t seem too concerned, so I asked him if I should be. “Is that okay? Are you okay?”

He looked down at his growing body and his torn clothing. “I feel okay.” He glanced up at me. “Do I look okay?”

“You look fucking perfect,” I said, and my cock agreed.

“It’s kind of your fault,” he said, almost absently.

“How is it my fault?”

He looked at me. “I miscalculated your sexiness,” he said. Then he went into Hoppy mode—or should I say Dr. Jeremy Hopkins, double Ph.D mode. “The process is triggered by positive emotional and physical feedback. Normally development occurs during REM sleep phases when the organism can manage the feedback loop more economically.”

“Sure,” I said, my brain spinning and my cock throbbing just listening to his deep and powerful voice thoughtfully explain whatever the fuck he was talking about. I mean, just listening to him speak, regardless of the theme, was like having someone licking my balls.

“But I couldn’t mathematically account for the level of pleasure we would share. That’s likely due to to my own limited sexual experience. It’s difficult to measure physical pleasure as a means of physical growth and muscular development as a one-to-one reaction.” He was evidently lost in thought, but the room was still saturated with his sexual power and just looking at his body in those ripped up clothes was making me extremely horny. “Then again, the variables associated with intercourse and erotic sensations would be nearly impossible to account for without prior knowledge.”

“Uh huh.”

“In retrospect I should have erred on the side of maximum potential rather than…”

“You know I want to fuck you right now, right?”

“Pardon me?”

“I want to fuck you right now.”

He stopped talking and blinked. “I…”

“My cock is throbbing. It’s drooling. Hard as a rock.”

“You want to…”

“Fuck you.”

“Right…”

“Now.”

His cock joined mine in its sudden arousal. I watched him swell and rise and my heart started beating faster. It was difficult to imagine that I had managed to fit him inside my butt as his prick quickly swelled to full power, the thick shaft swarming with veins, the mushroom helmet shoving its weeping mouth between his massive pectoral globes. I was partially amazed the thing could even get vertical, it probably weighed 50 pounds. “I’m not certain that’s entirely wise,” his mouth said, even though his body was saying ‘Hells yeah, let’s fuck! Stick your dick inside my ass and drill me until I scream your name so loudly they can hear it in the fucking ballroom where our high school classmates are gathering!’

I licked my lips looking at his prick. “What has wisdom got to do with it?”

“I have seriously miscalculated the effects of partnered sexual activity. My… .oh, god, you’re so handsome. I think you’re even better looking than you were in high school, Hulkster.” His cock twitched and throbbed. Additional tatters of his shredded shirt fell away to reveal more of this intensely powerful upper body.

“The feeling is mutual,” I responded unnecessarily, as if my cock wasn’t already pointing that out.

“But this growth rate isn’t practically sustainable.”

“You’re using logic when we could be fucking,” I pointed out.

“I estimate…” He groaned and reached his hand to his hard-on, wrapping his big bear paw around the throbbing, swollen shaft as a sudden wealth of pre erupted from the mouth of his cock and cascaded down like a thick, warm, sex-scented river of honey. “I estimate I gained ten additional pounds of muscle, which is a larger single-day gain than I’ve ever experienced. Though obviously some of that weight is also bone, skin, and various… .oh god.” He groaned again and closed his eyes, and a wave of Hoppy’s addictive sex fog swept over me.

I groaned in unison, overcome by the horniness I was feeling from watching him stroke his colossus, the way his body looked in the torn remnants of his clothes, and that throbbing wave of sex he was emanating like heat. “How big… ?”

He started to speak and then merely shrugged. “The tallest human who ever lived was Robert Wadlow, who was nearly nine feet tall when he died. But at the accelerated rate that I am developing, and without having better estimates of the effects of intense sexual pleasure I am experiencing, I can’t be sure how big I will eventually reach.”

“But, possibly as big as nine feet?”

He shrugged as he stroked himself. I felt an odd thrill thinking of him growing even taller, even more muscular, even more handsome and powerful than he was right now. Though the idea that his prick was also going to continue developing its mammoth length, thickness, and heft was a bit scary. He caught my open-mouthed gaze at his drooling erection and he said, “Yes, that, too.”

“A nine-foot cock?” I asked, incredulous.

“No, I mean, my penis will continue to grow as well, commensurate with my muscular development, height, and weight.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I love you and everything, but trying to manage welcoming your nine-foot tall prick inside my well-trained but tender little butt would be… .what’s wrong?”

Hoppy’s handsome face looked frozen in shock. “You… love me?”

“Of course I love you, Hoppy. I always loved you.”

“I love you too,” he said. And then a strange look came over his face and he gripped his cock very strongly and he started breathing very fast and very deep. He looked like he was in the throes of another round of growth, and he moaned something like, “it’s happening.”

You know that scene in every comic book where the hero does this thing where he grits his teeth and throws his chest forward and clenches his fists and there’s like this light behind him, all dramatic and shit, and he suddenly swells larger with power? Or like when Prince Adam hefts that magic sword over his head and shouts “By the power of Grayskull!” and turns into He-Man?

Well, that didn’t happen. But as I stood there in that hotel room watching Hoppy undergoing something I couldn’t understand, he grew one size bigger all at once, finally managing to tear the clothes from his body as if shattering glass.

His whole body swelled larger in an instant. It almost happened too quickly to see, but the effect was obvious. He might have gained ten pounds over the course of our time together, but it looked like he gained another ten pounds all at once, and then he was breathing hard like he’d finished a marathon or something and his body was coated in sweat and the sense of his overwhelming masculine sexual power—whatever that was—exploded like a burst bubble in the space between us and my cock swelled and erupted with a sudden powerful orgasmic explosion, shoving cum I didn’t think I had up the shaft and out the mouth in a fountain so thick that I was certain I was gonna paint the ceiling.

Hoppy was slightly bent over and breathing hard. A deep, powerful groan that sounded like it was made of pure sex erupted from his chest and he slowly straightened up, his eyes closed and his strong jaw set.

Was he in pain? Or was he experiencing pleasure so intense that it looked like pain? I was still recovering from my own massive orgasmic blast and could hardly focus. Then his hands were exploring his body, moving through the thick forest that coated his chest, rubbing his fat likable nipples, gripping the mighty biceps bulging on his upper arms. The exploration looked like a combination of wonder and curiosity, like a different man’s hands were exploring his own larger frame.

I was drained, physically and emotionally. That explosion of Hoppy’s masculine power, whatever it was, had overwhelmed me. I wondered if men in adjacent rooms had suddenly exploded cum all over their hotel furniture, or if all its power was focused on me alone. “What?” was about the only word or idea I could manage to form from my sex-fogged brain.

“Oh my,” I heard Hoppy say. “That was unexpected.”

I rubbed my eyes and tried to steady myself and looked at him and nearly came all over again, assuming I would ever have any cum in my balls again. “Understatement,” I whispered.

“I need to factor in emotional states as a catalyst. It occurred to me that pleasure derived from sources other than physical would have some affect, but the potential far outstrips when I ever assumed.”

Hearing Hoppy talking in his ultra-Hoppy vocabulary steadied me, thankfully. I looked at him as he spoke aloud, his hands still exploring his newly grown body, and I realized that he may not have been aware that he was speaking aloud. This was just how his brain always worked. It looked for solutions and explanations first, even before registering the amazing things that were happening around him.

“What… happened?”

He looked at me and a worried expression came over his features, which had further refined into a stronger definition of masculine beauty, which I hadn’t considered possible. He was still evolving, still improving, still upgrading himself. “Are you all right?”

“I’m… overwhelmed.”

“Same,” he said. “Sorry, I should have… but when you said that and I felt… when you told me…”

“That I love you,” I said, speaking the words he seemed scared to say.

“Yes, and I felt this… rush of emotions. No one ever said that to me before.”

“No one ever told you they loved you?” He shook his head, and a feeling of sadness erupted in the pit of my stomach. “Well, let me repeat it, unless you think it will make you explode with sex power again.”

“I don’t think it will.”

“I love you, Hoppy.”

“I love you too, Hulkster.”

Nothing as dramatic happened this time. There was no sudden muscular development, no explosion of sex between us. Frankly, I was slightly disappointed because it was kind of awesome? So instead I asked, “Can I kiss you right now?”

“I wish you would,” he said.

I went to him, marveling at his new height (had he gained another full inch?) and he leaned down to me and wrapped me in his strong arms and we kissed, but it felt different this time. It wasn’t just passion or sex between us, it was love. Love feels different. If you’ve ever been in love, you know what I mean.

His naked body was warm and his muscles were incredibly firm. His cock throbbed against mine and he smeared warm pre all over my belly and chest. He smelled like raw sex and I was certain that if I never left his embrace again, I would be forever happy.

We kissed for a long time and then he held me there, body against body, and we just breathed and sighed with contentment. “This feels nice,” he said. And then, “I’m starving.”

“Again?” I had to laugh slightly. The dishes from his previous meal were still on the table in the other room. But it probably made sense that if a body grew several pounds heavier and several inches taller in the space of a few hours, it was going to need sustenance to sustain that growth. Which is what Hoppy more or less explained to me as he pulled himself from our embrace and went to call room service again.

After ordering what sounded like three entire meals, he looked down at himself and said, “Maybe you should answer the door this time. I doubt that bathrobe is going to be adequate to cover me up at all this time.”

“Nor should it,” I said, rubbing my palm on his smooth, muscular butt cheek. “You should always be naked from now on. 24 hours a day, seven days a week. No one who looks like you do should ever hide an inch of their body under a stitch of clothing.”

“That’s not very practical,” he said, his brow furrowing.

“Who gives a shit about practical when they look like you do?”

“Or you,” he said, eyeing my naked body with obvious lust. Then he sighed and said, “I’m all sticky. I’m gonna take another shower before the food arrives.”

“I’d offer to join you but I think even in a shower as large as that one fitting us both in now with your bigger frame would be a bit awkward.”

“Not to mention that I would likely get so distracted with your warm naked body next to mine that I’d forget to lather up.”

“You say the nicest things,” I complimented. “Okay, you get cleaned up and then it’s my turn.” I took a deep sniff of the room and said, “Do the windows open in this hotel? This place smells like the inside of a well-fucked butt.”

“Colorful, but accurate,” he agreed. “I… kinda want to fuck you again.”

“Kinda?”

“100% I want to fuck you again,” he said, scientifically.

“Same,” I said. “But it will be different this time.”

“Because I’m bigger again?”

“Because I love you, and you love me, and we both know it now.”

His face brightened into an incandescent smile and his prick twitched. “Oh. That.”

My hand caressing his ass slapped him resoundingly and he flinched. At least this new powerful body could still feel pain, or so I assumed. It made me curious about Hoppy’s interest in other, more unusual sexual practices. I experienced a sudden rush of excitement considering everything we could explore together… given time.


When Hoppy was showering and I was waiting for room service, I started considering everything I didn’t know about him, and maybe the things he didn’t even know about himself.

It was evident that his sexual inexperience was both a boon and a hindrance. It was a boon in that we could explore it all together and in a relationship—assuming we were in a relationship—of trust and curiosity and openness. My sexual history was deep and wide and encompassed an embarrassing collection of riches, and I was open to anything and everything.

I mean, I knew what I liked most, but I wasn’t a prude at all. If some dude I hooked up with wanted to suck my toes, go for it, bro. I might not find the experience particularly exciting, but I could get off on the fact that he did.

It could be a hindrance if he always expected me to be in charge of our fun. Sex is a two-way street. You need to know what you like, but you need to know what he likes too. Your partner can come to resent it if he never gets to be the one in charge, or if his needs aren’t being met—particularly if he doesn’t even know what his needs are.

Hoppy was now a brainiac inside the body of a stud muffin. I mean, that’s kind of a best of both worlds scenario in one sense. Smart lovers are the best lovers. They’re more open-minded, generally, and they tend to have a sense of humor about the stupid shit that can happen when you’re naked with another person or three.

On the other hand, he might come to depend on me to allow him to have fun, because he could assume I might judge him and then like him less for something he wants to do—which, by the way, wouldn’t happen.

All of this was circling my brain while Hoppy was singing in the shower, and I have to admit that he had a decent voice. I pulled on the robe he’d worn earlier (and it still smelled like him, which made my dick throb and made my brain wonder if we could bottle that scent and sell it as an aphrodisiac, just bottles of Hoppy sweat you could douse a room in and call it Instant Orgy or something) when there was a knock at the door.

It was, of course, the same bellhop as before. The dude’s face fell in disappointment when it was me instead of that giant muscular walking erection answering this time, and who could blame him? “Good afternoon, sir,” he said.

“Hey,” I responded. I stood aside for him to come in with a cart bearing an embarrassing amount of food for two people, and even more embarrassing considering that Hoppy was likely to eat most or all of it. It was, again, a collection of very healthy things to nourish his continuing growth and development. I’m almost certain he had a spreadsheet in his head weighing the various benefits of every kind of food imaginable.

He wheeled it in and kept looking around, obviously searching for another glimpse of the naked man with the huge cock instead of little old me. “Are you enjoying your stay?” he asked. He was very young, probably not even in his mid-twenties, with a slight frame and a pretty face. He was not very good at hiding his search for Hoppy.

“He’s in the shower,” I replied, signing the bill.

His face reddened deeply and he cleared his throat. He took the bill and pen back and said, “My name’s Ned. Feel free to ask for me if you need anything else. Anything at all.”

“You want to hang around and see him? He should be done soon.”

“I… I should get back.”

“Oh. Okay.” Uh oh. Cold feet? I mean, Hoppy is rather intimidating. Guess I should try a different tact. “Could you check on the towels before you leave?”

“The towels.”

“I think we might need more towels.”

“More?”

“In the bathroom.” He just stared at me. “Where the shower is.” He looked like he was in shock. Might as well take advantage of it. “Also we probably need the sheets replaced because we’ve been fucking each other all day and they’re covered in cum.”

“Covered in…”

“Lacquered in it. He comes an unbelievable amount. Of cum.” A thought suddenly occurred to me. “When do you get off?”

“Get off?”

“From work.”

He was staring at the open bedroom door towards the sound of Hoppy’s singing and showering. “In an hour,” he said.

“Did you want to come back here in an hour, Ned?”

“Me?”

“My friend is remarkably horny. I’m afraid I can’t quite keep up with him and I could use some help.”

He swallowed dryly. “Me?”

“Unless you have something better to do. My friend has an exceptionally strong libido. Nearly unlimited. And you’ve seen his cock, which is massive. And I was just wondering whether that might be something that interested you, Ned. Spending some time with an incredibly muscular, impossibly handsome, completely naked man with a huge steel-hard cock, heavy cum-filled balls, and an inexhaustible sex drive.”

“I could get into trouble.”

“Only the right kind of trouble.”

His face reflected the thought process he was going through. Was some time with Hoppy worth getting fired? And who were these naked dudes fucking each other in the room all day long? And what was that smell that was making my cock throb and my balls twitch and my skin tingle? “The towels are in there?”

Oh, we were back to roleplaying. “Yes. Just in there. Can you take a look, please?”

“Of course,” he answered, adjusting his bulge as he walked into the cum-scented bedroom. It must have been more powerful than I realized, or else I was becoming used to Hoppy’s intense aroma, but Ned paused at the door frame to the bedroom and grabbed it with his hand, holding himself steady as an onslaught of Hoppy’s redolent sex perfume infiltrated his nostrils. He stood there for a couple of heartbeats and I suppressed a laugh at Neds dilemma before he started moving forward again through the den of cum we’d created.

I heard Hoppy’s singing stop and some murmured voices from the bathroom. I was curious about what the two men could be discussing, other than our sudden need for towels, and what Ned’s reaction would be to seeing Hoppy’s newly enlarged frame standing naked inside the steamy room with his hair all tangled along his stupidly wide shoulder mountains—assuming Ned could tell that the man was bigger, since memory is a poor witness and he probably remembered Hoppy’s hugeness as bigger than he was, anyway.

When Ned returned, he was breathing hard and had an obvious erection throbbing behind his zipper. He looked like he had a nice-sized dick. “Towels okay?” I asked, innocently.

“Holy fuck,” Ned answered. That seemed to be the usual response. “Is he like a bodybuilder or a model or something? Or, like, a god?”

“He’s ‘or something’,” I answered. “See you in an hour?”

“Yes, sir,” Ned answered. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank me later. My name’s Hulkster. His name’s Hoppy.”

“Yes, sir.”

He just stood there in a state of shock. “Towels?”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Towels.”

I called over my shoulder, “Hoppy!”

His deep and resounding voice answered. “Yes?”

“Could you come out here a moment?” Hoppy emerged from the cum-coated bedroom naked and dripping, rubbing a towel through his hair. “Did you meet Ned?”

Hoppy smiled and I melted. Judging from the little whimper that escaped Ned’s throat, he was similarly affected. Drops of water sparkled among his curly chest hair and clung to his fat dollar-sized nipples. His cock, nine inches of thick perfection, was hanging like a sausage over his massive balls. His six-pack was moving towards an eight-pack. His tall, wide frame filled the doorway. He wrapped the towel around his neck and tilted his head. “Yes, Ned was nice enough to ask about our towel needs.”

“I invited him back to have sex with us later.”

Hoppy’s always-hungry cock visibly throbbed. “That sounds interesting.”

I looked at Ned, adding “Hoppy said that sounds interesting.” Ned nodded silently, his eyes staring at Hoppy’s fat, shiny prick. I looked at Hoppy. “I think Ned is overwhelmed.”

“Do you want to have sex, Ned?” Hoppy asked point blank, folding his ridiculously muscled arms across his ridiculously muscle chest and leaning his ridiculously muscled bulk against the door frame. Ned nodded again. “Okay. Do you like to fuck, or do you like to be fucked?” Ned swallowed hard, still looking at that massive shank of sex hanging in lush abundance from Hoppy’s loins. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal reflected on his young face. “Not that it’s a one thing or the other choice. For example, I enjoy both, it turns out.”

Ned finally found his voice, and it literally cracked when he said, “I like to be fucked.”

Hoppy reached down and ran his hand along the length of his prick. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

Ned whimpered again so I offered him an escape. “Towels?” I asked.

“Yes, sir,” he answered.

It appeared that he was locked in place so I took him by the shoulders and led him to the door. “Thank you, Ned.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” And he left.

“He’s so polite,” I observed, turning back to Hoppy’s naked form.

“Hopefully he’s not too polite,” he responded, wagging his prick at me.

I registered my surprise. “Was that you being filthy?”

“I’m trying it on for size.”

“Unlike your clothes, it fits you.” I approached him and wrapped my arms around him, as he leaned his face down to mine and we kissed. “You’re wondering why I invited Ned back.”

“No.”

“Being honest is part of being in a relationship.”

“Are we in a relationship?”

“Once you utter the love part, you’re technically in a relationship. We don’t have to move in together or anything, but…”

He kissed me again. “But what if I wanted to move in together?”

“Your place or mine?” I joked.

“I live in a 42-room lodge in Montana on 70 rather gorgeous acres with a private airstrip and a jet I pilot myself, an Olympic-sized indoor swimming pool, stables that I don’t currently use for anything, a fully-equipped genetics lab probably more advanced than anything else in the world and more bathrooms than I can count, including one that I think resembles a professional spa with a shower that’s probably larger than this entire hotel room which I suddenly realize I haven’t taken full advantage of with another naked man who excels at fellatio. You?”

“I have a one-bedroom apartment in Highland Park. The fridge sounds like a 747 revving for take-off, the decade-old couch has my butt imprinted in it from playing too much Call of Duty and I’ve had sex in every room and probably on every piece of furniture including the stove.”

“Hot,” he observed.

“Literally,” I replied.

“So?”

“So?”

“You want to move in with me?”

I looked at this nearly seven-foot tall perfect figure of a man with a foot-long hard-on and a face that would make Michelangelo spontaneously come. My head was spinning. My heart was racing. My dick was throbbing. And I couldn’t think of one reason to say no to my best friend from high school who was kind and thoughtful and polite and loving and probably the sexiest fucking man in the whole world. “Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he agreed.

I never saw anyone so obviously overjoyed in my entire life.

We had an hour to kill until Ned’s return. Hoppy spent it eating everything in sight, because, as he explained it to me, “the growth I’m experiencing exceeds the maximum predicted development and I need to replenish my fuel intake in order to continue to realize the utmost continued muscular and physical evolution.”

In short, more food equaled more big. And I was a fan of more big.

I spent the time shopping, because Hoppy had already outgrown all the clothes he brought with him which were, to be frank, wholly unsuitable to the job anyway. He was a lab technician in an athlete’s body, and he needed to dress as the latter.

I visited a sporting goods store a couple of blocks away from the hotel and managed to avoid seeing any of my other high school relations in the process. I would rather avoid any awkward or embarrassing meet-ups, unless by some odd set of circumstances some other high school chum was also swelling with muscle and cock and then I might invite them to join the party up in the penthouse.

I chose the largest, stretchiest, least colorful apparel I could find, along with a couple of jackets which I hoped might help hide his muscularity a bit, though the prospect of anything hiding his unusually powerful and massively muscular frame seemed remote. Under Armor was the natural choice as their training gear went all the way up to 5XL and involved some magical odor-fighting material I was hoping might also help mitigate Hoppy’s sex stink to some degree. When we left the hotel, I didn’t exactly mind if he left a trail of ejaculating men in his wake—I wondered what might happen inside an enclosed space like an elevator if someone happened to be trapped inside with him while we were making out—but I thought that if I could avoid having an unplanned orgy break out in the lobby we might avoid some legal attention.

Between you and me, I was actually sort of excited to see Hoppy’s awesome body encased in skin-tight gear like some wannabe Thor from an alternate and infinitely sexier MCU adventure. Thinking about seeing Hoppy’s body and that long, dark hair and beautiful face and giant cock wandering around like some super-sexed superhero got my engines revving into the red. I guess we al l have our superhero fantasies, don’t we? I mean, who wouldn’t want to get super-fucked by Superman?

At the same time, now that I was alone, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Was I really ready to just junk my whole life and all my friends to go live on some northern ranch and watch my best friend and best lover keep growing bigger and bigger as we enjoyed endless rounds of the best sex I ever had?

Mostly, yes. I mean, I was hardly thrilled with my job or career, I had a succession of lovers but no one I really cared about, and the idea of living in a mansion with a man who fulfilled my every muscle fantasy didn’t seem to have a down side.

Not that I could help him with his growth or anything. He was the scientist, not me, but maybe I could be his, like, sexual tutor or something. Help him explore all those fantasies of his own while discovering a few new ones for myself in the process.

And of course I wondered if he would share this muscle miracle with yours truly, and if I wanted it. Would it even work on someone else the same way? I didn’t understand a tenth of what Hoppy talked about most of the time, but I trusted him and, holy fuck, I really did love him.

I was kind of wandering around in a fog with a shopping bag full of giant stretchy clothes when I made it back to the room and walked in on a scene I could not have imagined if I tried to.

My boyfriend—was he my boyfriend?—my boyfriend was sitting in a chair mostly naked, just like I liked him. He was wearing one of the hotel’s way too small for his body bathrobes for some reason, and I say ‘for some reason’ because it was hanging open with his dick and balls hanging out and the sleeves gripping so tightly to his biceps that I wondered how he even managed to get it on in the first place. His mighty chest and chewable nips were as equally exposed as his cock and balls, and he was sitting there holding a glass of water in one hand while he played with one of those chewable nips with the other.

Across from him, on the large bed, and naked, was Ned. Who was either asleep or passed out.

“Uh,” I said.

“Hello,” Hoppy replied.

I set the bag on the floor and narrowed my eyes as I tried to imagine what had lead to this scene. “Is he?”

“Passed out.”

“And… why?”

Hoppy shrugged. “All I did was walk in here and he was already naked which sort of surprised me but I can appreciate eagerness, always a very amenable characteristic whether you’re facing a new chromosomal string or licking a butt hole.”

“Sure,” I agreed.

“And I was wearing this because it was all there was and I wasn’t sure what the correct wardrobe choice was for a sex invitation to a stranger since I haven’t done this before but Ned was early and, as I mentioned, rather eager.”

I looked at Ned and said, “Who wouldn’t be?”

“I would’ve called for some advice but interesting point, I don’t know your phone number.”

“Easily rectified,” I told him. “So eager beaver Ned here arrives, strips himself quickly naked, waits in here for some fun, you walk in… .”

“And when I opened the robe, he… did that.”

“Were you hiding a clown under the robe or something?”

“No clown. Just an erection.”

“Uh huh.”

“And he fainted.”

Hoppy shrugged. “I brought him some water because I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

“That was thoughtful.” I picked up the bag and handed it to him. “Go try these on for size while I figure out what’s up with our friend here.”

Hoppy stood up. And up. And up some more. How had I forgotten how tall he was? I hoped the clothes fit. He looked inside and one of his manly eyebrows arched. “Black?”

“Pardon?”

“They’re all black.”

“One of them is gray,” I pointed out. “Well, dark gray.”

He was looking inside the bag with a slightly disappointed look on his face. “I just always thought of myself more like Captain America blue than Winter Soldier black.”

My cock throbbed. “I’ll remember for next time.”

“Maybe we can get the concierge to pick up something a bit more colorful.”

“Do concierges do that? I thought they just got tickets to things or arranged dinners.”

“No, concierges will do pretty much anything if you tip them enough.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, you’ll… take care of Ned?”

“Unsurprisingly, I have some experience with passed out naked men on beds.” Hoppy grunted and started pulling the stretchy clothing out of the bag curiously and I want over and sat on the bed next to Ned.

“Ned.” He moaned. “Ned!” He moaned again. I slapped his cheek with the back of my hand. “Edward.”

“Benedict,” he murmured.

“I like it,” I told him. “You okay?”

“It’s. So. Big.”

“His cock?” He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, and nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of large.”

“He opened the robe and I saw it and like all the blood in my brain started pumping into my dick and I felt all dizzy and the next thing I knew… .”

“I understand.”

“I mean, I saw it when it wasn’t… that big. And it was already big.”

“Huge, really.”

“But holy shit.”

“Yep.”

“I’ve never felt dizzy looking at a cock before.”

“Congratulations?”

“It’s. So. Big.”

“Can you sit up?” He nodded and struggled a bit so I helped him. He was reed thin, with extremely defined abs and almost a chest. His skin was clean and pink and so were his nipples. “Can I get you something?”

“Do you have any Scotch?”

At least he had good taste. “How old are you?”

“Hopefully not older than your Scotch.”

And a sense of humor. I called out, “Hoppy?”

“Yo!”

“Did you just say ‘Yo’?”

“I was trying to be casual.”

“Can you order up some Scotch from that concierge who can get you anything?”

“Probably. Anything in particular?”

I looked at Ned, and he said “Ardbeg.”

“Really?”

“I’m a peat monster.”

I called, “Ardbeg.”

Hoppy called back, “Is that a Scotch?”

“It’s tastes more like antiseptic, but yes, it is a Scotch.”

“Roger that.”

“And Hoppy?”

“Yes?”

“The casual thing isn’t working.”

“Understood.”

Ned was watching me with a smile on his face. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“Fresh today. Does it show?”

“You talk like he’s your boyfriend.”

My heart exploded. “Yeah,” I said, blushing.

“So… how do you handle it?”

“His cock?”

“His… everything.”

“Ah. Yes, he can be overwhelming.”

“‘Can be?’ He’s the very definition of overwhelming.”

“He’s… special. In a lot of ways.”

“What’s it like?”

“Fucking him?”

“Being in love.”

Jesus, dude. “It’s… great.”

Ned put his hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to cry?”

“I might.” I pulled in a long, slow, contented breath. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded. “I think I just needed some warning or something.”

“What, like, ‘look out, my cock is the most gorgeous and massive cock you’re likely to encounter in your young life’ sort of thing?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

“But you’re afraid his cock could.”

Ned exhaled loudly. “I mean.”

“It’s a lot of cock.”

“A massive amount.”

“Ample.”

“It is a very generous amount of cock.”

“Bounteous, if you will.” Ned’s prick was blossoming as we discussed my boyfriend’s plentiful penis. “If it helps, it feels amazing when he’s fucking you.”

“Do you do this a lot?”

“Revive young men who pass out at the sight of my boyfriend’s cock?”

“Invite young men to gaze upon and get fucked by your boyfriend’s cock.”

“To be fair I was hoping we’d both be involved in the fucking.”

“A three-way.”

“At least,” I said. “Sorry, that was glib. No, to be frank, you’re the first person we’ve invited into our relationship.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It’s… complicated.”

There was a knock at the door and Hoppy moved to open it. The door closed again shortly after and Hoppy called in to us, “The Scotch is here. Can I… come in?”

“Are you decent?” I asked in a high, feminine voice.

“I’m fully clothed if that counts.”

I looked at Naked Ned, who nodded. “That counts,” I agreed.

Hoppy walked back into the bedroom carrying a small tray with a bottle of Ardbeg and three glasses. He was wearing the workout clothes I procured for him. He looked like fucking Batman.

He may as well have walked in naked, anyway. The Under Armor was clinging to him like a second skin, so tight on his body that every detail of his body was clearly visible, from his fat nipples to his eight-pack abs to the thick sausage and tennis ball ‘nads bulging between his legs. “Scotch?”

“Holy fuck,” Ned and I said in unison.

“What? Wrong Scotch?”

My mouth was hanging open but somehow I wasn’t drooling. He looked nakeder than naked. Nuder than nude. The clothing managed to eliminate anything that might have distracted from displaying exactly how perfect and beautiful his body was. “Hold my hand,” I told Ned.

“Why?”

“I might pass out.”

“What is wrong with you?” Hoppy asked us in his absurdly deep baritone.

“Have you looked in the mirror by chance?” I asked him.

“No, I put on these ridiculous so-called clothes and answered the door.”

“You look like Black Panther,” Ned remarked, “except not, like, Black.”

“I do?” Hoppy actually looked pleased.

“And with a huge, huge, huge penis,” I added, staring at the insane bulge at his loins.

“How do you look like that and not realize you look like that?” Ned asked. “You must live in the gym. No one has a body like that who doesn’t spend an insane amount of their life working out.”

“Oh,” Hoppy said. “I guess that’s true.”

“Of course that’s true!”

“Hoppy is genetically gifted,” I said quickly, which wasn’t a lie after all. “You know how some body types are pear-shaped, and some are thin, and some are fat?”

Ned nodded. “I can’t put on muscle no matter how hard I try, and I try pretty fu… pretty hard.”

“You can say fucking,” Hoppy explained. “We’re not very prudish.”

“Yeah, um, the answering the door with your incredible hard-on at full mast part kind of suggested that,” Ned agreed. “I’m just trying to alter my language to be not so fuck-filled at the hotel.”

“Admirable,” Hoppy noted, smiling.

“So, yeah, unlike your situation Hoppy here can’t not put on muscle.”

“And cock, apparently,” Ned noted helpfully. “Because that is a massive cock.”

“Thank you,” Hoppy replied, glancing down at his nine-inch sausage tucked sideways along his hip.

“Well, if my opinion counts, I think you look awesome.” He seemed to remember I was in the room suddenly and he added, quickly, “You both do!”

“Thank you,” I answered, trying to mimic Hoppy’s deep tones.

There was a moment of silence as the three of us, Super Hoppy in his skin-tight hero outfit, Ned in his birthday suit, and me fully dressed, took it all in.

Hoppy looked fucking amazing, like a superhero fantasy that went above and beyond my imagination. When Captain America emerged from that science pod with his new pecs and standing taller than anyone else in the room, he wished he looked half as impressive and sexy as Hoppy did. I really, really wanted him to turn around and show me America’s Ass in those skin-tight tights.

Needless to say, my dick, which started throbbing when he walked into the room with Ned and me, was now painfully hard. I could smell him like a floral perfume except made from sweat and cum and leather and smoke. It was difficult not to notice Ned’s prick was undergoing a similar metamorphosis, throbbing with every beat of his heart. I wondered if he was going to faint again.

Hoppy finally broached the awkward silence. “Soooooo… Scotch?”

“Fuck, yes,” Ned said.

Hoppy set the tray down on the table next to the bed and gifted us with a glimpse of his ass which was, as I had assumed, awesome. It looked even bigger—more muscular and bubblicious—in the tights, somehow. A Break the Internet ass if I ever saw one. He unstoppered the bottle and poured a generous amount into each glass, passing one to Ned and one to me. The strong peaty aroma contended with Hoppy’s sexy funky locker-room tang in an unexpectedly agreeable manner. He straightened and held his out. “What should we toast to?”

“To fucking!” Ned said, clinking his glass against ours.

“To fucking?” Hoppy’s handsome face looked nonplussed but he smiled anyway.

“To fucking and not fainting,” I added.

We drank. The Ardbeg was musty and earthy and musty on my tongue. It burned as it went down and I sipped some more, enjoying the sensation of what was in the glass mixing with what I was seeing and smelling with Hoppy in the room.

There were sighs and moans of contentment and then Hoppy asked, looking at Ned, “If I take these off, are you going to pass out?”

“I think I have sufficient control of my faculties to remain upright,” he answered.

“And so does your cock,” I remarked.

He looked down and shifted his hips, making his erection wag and shake. “Yeah, he’s pretty happy right now.” I reached over and stroked him and he reacted very strongly. The dude was incredibly responsive and aroused. Ned groaned and shuddered against me.

“You sure you’re not going to pass out?” He nodded silently. I spat on my palm and reapplied my grip to his cock. “So if I keep doing this,” I said, slowly stroking him with slick, wet caresses, “and Hoppy takes off his Black Panther outfit, you won’t keel over again?”

“I… ooh, fuck… I’ll try not to.”

“I suppose that’s all we can ask.”

“Is it getting hot in here?”

“That’s probably Hoppy. He has that affect on people.”

“When I’m horny,” Hoppy added helpfully.

“Which is always,” I also added helpfully.

“If I weren’t already naked I’d get naked. Can one get more naked than naked?”

Hoppy looked at Ned and me sitting on the bed and said, “Hulkster, can I talk to you in private?”

“I guess so. Ned, can you amuse yourself while I see what this huge hunk of man wants?”

When I pulled my hand from his cock, he took over where I left off. “I can probably find something to amuse me,” he said. Rubbing his thumb over the tip of his dick and grinning.

“I thought you might.” I accompanied Hoppy to the other room of the penthouse, pleased to be able to watch his perfect ass flex and bob in front of me. “What’s up?”

“I’m afraid I might hurt him.”

“Hurt him, how?”

“Like, split him open or something. This thing keeps growing and I’m not certain… .”

“You won’t hurt him,” I said. “You might be amazed at what can go into your average horny butt hole.”

“It’s not so much the girth as it is the length.” He started peeling his elastic pants from his narrow hips and down his body, pushing his hand inside and wrestling out his quickly swelling prick. “I wouldn’t want to punch a hole in him or something.”

“I mean, it’s kind of you to be so thoughtful, but my advice is to get started and let Ned steer the bus, which is, admittedly, quite an impressively sized bus.”

“I know.”

“Like, double-decker sized.”

“I know.”

“Double-decker bendy bus sized.”

“I know.”

“Bendy bus riding on a submarine kind of a deal.”

“I get the drift.”

Hoppy’s cock was huge, there was no arguing that point. Like an arm extending from his groin. An arm holding an apple. A small apple, sure, but an apple nonetheless. “I feel like you should be having this discussion with Ned rather than me. I get the impression that Ned knows what he’s in for and is probably pretty excited about it, judging by the passing out thing and the insistent hard on thing and… everything.”

“I’m okay!” Ned called out from the bedroom. “I’m kind of a size queen!”

“I think he can hear us,” Hoppy observed.

“I think you’re right.”

Ned appeared naked in the doorway, still stroking his erection. “I mean, I haven’t taken a baseball bat or anything but given some time to, you know, loosen up a bit I can handle holy fuck that is a huge cock!”

“It is, as you mention, a huge cock,” I agreed.

“You ride him?” Ned asked me.

“It’s less like a ride and more like an entire circus.”

“Minus the clowns,” Hoppy added, helpfully.

“Good, ‘cuz clowns are freaky.” Ned looked at Hoppy’s still-swelling erection and added, “And that is probably the most beautiful fucking cock I’ve ever seen.” He even licked his lips! “Look, Hoppy, I want you to fuck me. I love—like, really really love—getting fucked. I love feeling you inside me, thrusting, pushing, rubbing against me, driving me insane. I want you to use me up and leave me on the side of the road. I want to feel like my ass was visited by a very strong, incredibly sexy and probably naked construction worker with a steam-powered jackhammer.”

“That sounds… specific,” I remarked.

“I ache for your cock. I long for it with a burning passion. If a genie appeared right here, right now and granted me three wishes, all of them would be to be fucked by you.”

“You have to admit, the man has a way with words,” I observed.

Ned’s eyes seemed to be glued to my boyfriend’s prick. He managed to pull his hungry gaze away long enough to go to his pile of clothes and fished out his phone, fingering the screen a few ways, this and that, and then held it out towards Hoppy and me.

What I was looking at was a collection of dildos that was actually quite impressive, including one that would put Hoppy’s massive organ to shame size-wise. It was a giant, red, veiny dick with huge balls, probably a couple of feet high and thick as an average man’s arm, the kind of sex toy I always assumed was there for shock value or as a joke.

My fuckdar is never wrong.

“I cam on the side. This job pays shit and the tips here aren’t great and a boy’s gotta put food on the table, don’t he?” He turned the phone back around and started flipping through more photos. Then he showed us a few of his naked selfies and I have to say the production values were first rate. Great lighting and Ned really knew how to play to the camera. He could be—or more accurately I guess he was—a certified porn star. “I go by suck_boy_prime on Chaturbate.” He flipped to another photo of himself doing just that, his wet lips wrapped around a decent-sized prick with his cheeks sunken in. “You have to have a brand or the viewers stop coming.” He laughed slightly, adding, “Literally.”

“What’s Chaturbate?” Hoppy asked.

“There’s a ton of sites online for live streams of guys, but mostly girls, doing sex stuff. It’s not everyone’s cup of warm cocoa, but I do okay. Plus I enjoy it, I… kind of get off having people watching me. I’m sort of a whore like that.”

I put my hand forward and shook his. “Welcome to the club.” He laughed. “I’m also a whore, but I guess I’m more of a traditional whore. I like fucking people in person, though I can see the attraction of broadcasting yourself.”

Ned shook his short-cropped head and smiled. “I started doing it as a joke, to be honest, until I realized I got off on it. Edging, fucking myself with increasingly large dildos. I mean, yeah, a lot of it is an act but every once in a while everything clicks, the audience is into it, I’m into it, the tokens are chiming like an insistent UPS delivery dude and I’m fucking losing my shit. I did a show with this other dude once? He was cute but not like…” He looked at Hoppy’s insane muscular perfection. “Anyway, we sucked each other, fucked each other, I licked his ass, he licked my ass, did some foot fetish junk. Views through the roof! Tokens raining down like… rain I guess.” He looked at us and said, “Some of the regulars who hang out in my chat room are really cool, and everyone likes a good fuck, right?”

“I would agree with that assessment,” I said, “but then again I’m a whore.”

“Anyway, my point is that I’ve taken on bigger fish than that one, though they weren’t actually attached to anyone and they weren’t gonna blow a load in my ass, like I hope to fuck you will.”

I liked Ned a lot. Then again I would pretty much liked anyone who had a dildo collection that belonged in the Smithsonian. But even Ned probably wasn’t prepared for what Hoppy could do. “Before you get started, can I offer some advice?”

“Sure, I’m always open to learning things, particularly about dick.”

“Let Hoppy lick your hole first. Well, lick is probably an understatement. But… show him your tongue, Hoppy.” My boyfriend of several hours smiled, opened his mouth, and stuck out his tongue. And stuck it out further. And stuck it out further. Then he wagged it, and wiggled it, and made it move like a suspiciously sexy snake that wanted to be inside Ned’s butt.

“Holy… shit.”

“I know, right? He’s just a treasure trove of surprises!”

“I like licking bukks,” Hoppy explained, his tongue moving around like a vine searching for purchase.

“And he’s exceptionally skilled at it,” I added, setting my hand on his shoulder and attempting to squeeze it, finding instead a rocky muscular mountain range that would not be squeezed.

“Turns out I like getting fucked, too,” Hoppy added happily, pulling his tongue back inside his mouth.

“Turns out?”

“We’re still exploring,” I explained.

“Oh!” Ned looked honestly surprised, “I just assumed from the way we met…”

“You mean when Hoppy greeted you with his drooling hard-on waving at you like a third leg?”

“Yeah, that.”

“We’re very open minded,” I said.

“Very,” Hoppy agreed.

“Good to know,” Ned said softly, still staring at Hoppy’s amazing colossus. “So, rimming, mutual fucking, anything else?”

“Do you have a menu?” I asked, glibly.

“Everything is available,” he answered. “Appetizers, entrees, desserts. Aperitifs and digestifs. You name it, I got it.”

“When do I get to eat him out?” Hoppy asked.

“No time like the present!” I said, moving behind him and shoving him at the small naked man masturbating in the entrance to the bedroom.

Hoppy looked back at me. “Are you coming?”

I looked down. “Not presently.”

“I’m serious!”

“You’re obviously in good hands,” I assured him. “I can come in and watch.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Ned nearly groaned. He reached his free hand out and wrapped it around Hoppy’s prick. “I want your boyfriend to watch you fuck me while he strokes his cock and tries to imagine how good I’m feeling. I want him to see your face when you push that beautiful cock inside my ass and start coming so hard that you threaten to eject me off the end of it like a popped cork. I want him to hear us moan in complete and utter sexual ecstasy and ache to be both of us together as you fuck the living fuck out of me.”

After a moment of stunned silence, I said, “Whoa.”

“I agree,” Hoppy agreed. His cock held in Ned’s grip started doing its crazy and amazing throbbing and Ned’s mouth fell open.

“What. Is. That?”

The throbbing stopped. “Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize! Do it again!”

Hoppy did it again. “It’s simply a matter of increasing control over one’s rectal muscles. Like this.” He showed Ned the same insanely quick finger wagging he’d demonstrated to me. “The puborectal and pubococcygeal. The piriformis and the anal hiatus. There’s a lot to work with. And with a little practice you should be able to achieve something similar.” I mean, I loved Hoppy but sometimes he knew how to take the sex out of sexy.

The throbbing increased in scope and speed as Hoppy demonstrated exactly how much control he possessed over his rectal muscles until his foot-high (or more than foot-high now?) cock started to vibrate in Ned’s grip. Unlike an actual vibrator it made no sound, no humming or anything, but Ned’s aggressive moaning would probably have drowned that out, anyway.

As I accompanied Hoppy and Ned back into the bedroom, with Ned’s hand seemingly glued to Hoppy’s vibrating dick, I asked him, “So, suck_boy_supreme?”

“suck_boy_prime,” he corrected softly.

“I presume that means you enjoy and know how to suck a cock.”

“Boss level cocksucker,” he reported. “No gag reflex. Like, none. Some say it’s my superpower.”

I almost mentioned my fuckdar but refrained for the moment. “Good to know,” I reported. I stopped at the doorway and watched Ned pulling Hoppy by his throbbing prick towards the bed. Ned had an excellent butt. He was what some would call a muscle Twink, with a well-defined body, a flat belly with a hint of a six-pack, very pink nipples, almost no body hair, and very smooth skin that practically glowed. He had short-cropped sandy brown hair, a clean-shaven face with slightly soft features, and very large eyes the color of a perfectly made latte.

The first thing was getting Hoppy out of his Winter Soldier outfit. Ned seemed very reluctant to let Hoppy’s vibrating cock loose so Hoppy started stripping himself of the clinging clothes, struggling a bit to pry the material from his many huge muscular bulges. The top came off first, revealing Hoppy’s furry pecs and insanely wide shoulders, and then he tried pushing the pants off but Ned’s death grip on his cock was making that even more awkward. “Can you let go for a minute?” he asked.

“I’m not sure if I can,” Ned reported. “I think I’m in love.”

Hoppy looked at me pleadingly so I went in and got on my knees behind him to pull those pants off his body. His ass was a thing of perfect beauty and stripping the black material off it to reveal its gorgeous muscular size and shape. I took the opportunity to lean in and push my tongue between his glutes, tasting his sweaty masculine tang and eliciting a deeply satisfied moan from Hoppy’s chest. He even pushed his butt towards me wanting more, but I slapped him hard and said “don’t be greedy.”

“I want you to fuck me while I fuck Ned,” he groaned.

“I’ll add it to the list,” I responded.

Ned’s face peeked around Hoppy’s muscular bulk wide-eyed and open-mouthed, so I said, “Yes, okay, I will fuck Hoppy while Hoppy fucks you.”

“Oh. My. God,” Ned moaned. “I wish I had my camera to record this.”

“You want to stream us streaming cum?”

“No, just for me. So I can rewatch it over and over while I fuck myself with Big Red and remember every amazing moment of this evening.”

“Ah,” I said.

With Hoppy (awkwardly) achieving nudity, we were now all naked and randy as hell. My dick was rock hard and I hadn’t even touched it. Hoppy’s was so stiff it was shiny, like the skin could hardly hold it inside, and he was leaking a thick stream of pre that flowed down the engorged shank of his shaft and gathered on his fat, roiling balls.

I sat down in a chair in the corner of the bedroom and started stroking myself as I watched the huge, muscular, insanely handsome man and the small, sinewy, highly aroused small man facing each other at the foot of the unmade bed. The room was still charged up with an invisible fog of Hoppy’s intense sexual redolence which was increasing now that Hoppy was back to full power.

Ned was sliding his hand slowly up and down Hoppy’s pre-slick cock which was still vibrating. Ned leaned forward, stuck out his tongue and applied it to the drooling tip of Hoppy’s monster, then pushed his lips against the spongy head and sucked off some thick strings of honey noisily. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” he moaned, tasting Hoppy’s erotically charged honey on his tongue and swallowing it down thickly.

“Can I lick your asshole?” Hoppy asked politely.

“Throw me on the bed,” Ned instructed.

“What?”

“Pick me up and throw me on the bed. Then pull my ass open and eat me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I smiled to keep from laughing. There was a giant, muscular, furry, gorgeous, naked man with a huge, throbbing, drooling cock who looked like if Sebastian Stan and Henry Cavill had a nearly seven-foot tall muscle baby standing in front of me but that was also Hoppy. And Hoppy, the ex-virgin, seemed to be getting a sudden tutorial in dominance and subservience.

I knew Ned would be better at this than I. He was a performer, so he basically did this for a living. He didn’t know Hoppy the same way I did—in fact, he didn’t know Hoppy at all, he only saw this huge hung superhero whose dick vibrates like a sex toy and who smells like raw fucking.

I was thinking about the relationship when Hoppy picked up Ned like he weighed nothing at all and tossed him onto the bed. Then Hoppy crawled onto the edge, making the mattress complain at his muscular weight, and took Ned’s ankles in his large hands and opened him like a cooked chicken.

Hoppy literally licked his lips and then pushed his face between Ned’s legs and started using that insane eel of a tongue on the young cam streamer.

Ned was surprisingly vocal. Maybe that was also a result of his other career. When you have an audience, you probably need to let them know what you’re feeling, to bring them closer in to the action and feel like they’re in the room with you. He was groaning and squirming and mouthing “oh, fuck” a lot. Which, come to think of it was probably my reaction to discovering Hoppy’s tongue talents as well.

I have to admit that I was more than a little jealous watching them, which more or less ratified Ned’s earlier dirty thoughts about watching my boyfriend with another dude and knowing exactly what he felt. A thrill of erotic anticipation shook me and I groaned loud enough that Hoppy looked over, his mouth smeared with spit and ass juice, licking his lips lustily.

I nearly came right there. Fuck, that was hot!

Hoppy’s big bubble butt was thrust into the air as he bent his head towards Ned’s happy hole, wagging like a happy dog’s tail. His perfect pink hole was winking at me like an invitation. I was very tempted to apply my own tongue to Hoppy’s butt and lick him as he was licking Ned, almost as if his rimming was happening to his own ass, although my tongue talents could never measure up to his. But I wanted Hoppy and Ned to have this to themselves—and watching it was an education in itself.

Because when you’re under Hoppy’s control, you kind of lose yourself to him. His new body was designed for pleasure. I mean, his fucking cock vibrated! His tongue can paint the inside of your ass like Da Vinci! His skin feels like silk and his muscles feel like steel! And then he’ll toss you like a rag doll onto a bed and fuck you into heaven.

His big dick plowing your ass or his big tongue pushing inside you or his massive, warm, furry chest pressed against yours or his thickly muscled arms wrapped around you or his soft, warm lips pressed against yours—it was all overwhelming. So sitting back, stroking my dick, watching Hoppy pleasure Ned and watching Ned suffering Hoppy’s perfect erotic attacks was insane.

At some point I heard Ned’s groans of “oh, fuck” change to groans of “fuck me” though I wasn’t entirely sure if that was an exclamation or an entreaty. Whatever the case, it seemed that Hoppy was just as anxious to fuck Ned as Ned was anxious to be fucked by Hoppy, and I watched Hoppy lift his shaggy head away from Ned’s hole and sit up, pointing the drooling head of his monster cock at Ned’s well-prepared hole.

“Fuck me,” Ned moaned. “Fuck me, please, fuck me.” He was squirming and writhing in absolute bliss. His head twisted on his neck and his open mouth was gaspng and sucking in air as Hoppy held his ankles in his hands and pivoted his hips to guide the dirigible of his prick into Ned’s hanger. I marveled at the size and beauty of Hoppy’s butt, two vast muscular globes positioned like engines ready to shove that thick, throbbing, hard hunk of sex meat home. His balls were heavy and hanging low, pulsing like cum pumps.

As Hoppy began to push himself inside Ned’s butt, his cock started vibrating and pulsing and he closed his eyes and groaned deeply. A thick, sudden wave of Hoppy’s patented sex sensation enveloped my naked body and I started pumping cum whether I wanted to or not. Ned was calling out the name of various deities and holy figures as Hoppy invaded his hole with his insane throbbing and drooling monster and then he was inside, pushing his ball sack against Ned’s ass crack and his vibrator cock against Ned’s prostate.

I know I promised that I would fuck Hoppy while Hoppy fucked Ned but there was no way my body was going to obey any coherent thoughts, much less manage to balance myself over Hoppy’s magnificent body and shove my already-exploding dick inside his magic butt. I was gasping for air, grasping the arms of the chair I was in, pumping fat explosions of cream all over myself and bathed in hot, wet waves of Hoppy sex.

Ned, frankly, lost it. How could he not? Hoppy’s massive prick was lodged deep inside his butt and vibrating like a fucking sex toy. I knew how it felt but I was still pumping my own cum fountains all over my belly and chest, trying just to breathe.

It was like Hoppy was pushing cum out of Ned’s balls. He started to fuck the shaking, moaning, ecstatic young man and with every thrust, a fresh supply of cream would erupt from Ned’s prick and splatter against his torso.

A lot was happening. I was pumping cream, Ned was exploding cream, Hoppy’s vibrating dick was shoving against Ned’s prostate, Ned was in a state of perpetual sexual bliss when Hoppy groaned, “It’s happening,” again!

I attempted to focus the part of my brain not currently overwhelmed with sexual release to watch Hoppy as he started gushing streams of cum inside Ned’s buzzing butt hole. I felt—I knew—he was going to grow again. We were all overwhelmed by what was happening and from what I understood about Hoppy’s unique predicament, he could not control when or how much his body was now responding to “positive experiences.” And this was among the most satisfying sexual experiences of my life and I was only peripherally involved, if at all.

Hoppy tossed his shaggy head back and opened his mouth and uttered, “oh, fuuuuuuuuck” from the depth of his soul. He pushed himself all the way into Ned’s ass, bent over the smaller man’s body, set his hands on the bed besides Ned’s body and I watched him shudder and swell as he started to cum and grow.

I wondered if Ned even realized what was happening. Thick waves of cum were being pumped inside him like a warm, sticky flood of sex. Hoppy was slowly, strongly fucking Ned’s ass, shifting his narrow hips, pulling his monster cock out a few inches, pausing as his body shook with bliss, then shoving himself back in as he came, pushing his prick through the fresh deluge of his creamy delivery and swelling with growth.

The bed suddenly lurched and made some strange, un-bedlike noises and I knew what was coming next. Pounds of fresh muscle were magically swelling on Hoppy’s body, adding to his already impressive bulk. He was groaning and coming and swelling in almost clocklike surges, shoving a thick load of cream from his massive, throbbing hard-on and then, almost immediately, I could see fresh cables and fibers of muscular development rise under his smooth, warm skin.

Then Hoppy groaned “fuck, yessssssss” and pushed himself into Ned’s ass to the hilt and his butt cheeks swelled and pushed against each other and his back widened and his arms expanded and veins rose and pulsed under his skin and the bed collapsed to the floor under the weight of Hoppy’s swelling muscularity.

Hoppy’s final push was enormous and powerful, and his body looked like it grew two sizes bigger, like the Grinch’s heart on Christmas. Knowing what I knew about him, I was almost scared to look at Hoppy’s face after the latest surge. Would I even be able to stand the beauty of his features? How perfectly gorgeous could a man become?

Hoppy straightened up, his cock still deep inside Ned, and stretched his neck, reaching up to grab a nipple in each hand and twisting and rubbing them as he groaned like an ogre and his body settled into its new size. “Mmm, yes,” he moaned, as his hand reluctantly left his fat nipples and he raised his arms and flexed them into power. His biceps were visibly throbbing with power, stacking themselves higher with muscle. More muscle stretched along his arms, multiplying and swelling, and then his back was widening and his shoulders were expanding as he grew more powerful by the second.

He groaned deeply as the muscular development and growth subsided and his body settled into its new size and power. He lowered his arms as his hands began to wander all over his body, cupping his pecs and tracing the space between his abs and pushing his fingers through the warm sweatiness of his chest hair.

Then he seemed to remember that his cock was inside someone else and he looked down and with a tenderness that looked incongruous from a man built so large and powerful, he caressed Ned’s cum-frosted belly and chest, humming softly.

He started to pull himself from Ned’s ass when Ned, his eyes closed and his torso coated in streams of cum, whispered “Don’t. You feel so good inside. You make me feel so good.” Hoppy planted his hands on either side of Ned’s small body and leaned down, pushing his lips against Ned’s mouth and kissing him.

I didn’t know how much time had actually passed. Was it an hour or a minute? And now we owed the hotel for a broken bed, too. Which, to me, was both something to boast about and be embarrassed about at the same time.

Hoppy looked over at me and smiled, and holy fucking fuck, people! If I hadn’t just blown a gasket fountaining cum all over myself I’d start doing it all over again. It really wasn’t fair that a man could look like Hoppy looked. “Thank you,” he said.

“Thank me? I think Ned did all the hard work.” My eyes scanned his body hungrily, marveling at all the newly developed brawn. “You grew again.”

He smiled awkwardly. “I know.” He looked down at himself, moving his hands over his bigger muscles again, and groaned softly. “Feels good.”

“Looks good,” I said.

He laughed slightly and wiggled that huge, perfect butt. “I’m still horny,” he reported.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

He shrugged slightly and smirked awkwardly. “Still horny,” he reiterated.

“How’s he doing?” I asked, nodding towards Ned.

“Oh my god,” Ned moaned. “Holy shit.”

“How’re you doing?” I repeated for Ned’s benefit.

He rubbed his eyes and tried sitting up, but then fell back into bed. “Holy shit.”

“Hoppy can be intense,” I offered.

“Can I have my dick back?” Hoppy asked. He did something—probably involving making his cock vibrate—and Ned’s eyes snapped open.

“Holy shit. I want you to just stay where you are. I want to keep feeling you fuck me. I want to keep coming and coming and coming. I’ve never felt so… good.”

“Well, you did say you were still horny,” I added helpfully to Hoppy.

His eyebrows rose and he seemed to consider it for a moment. Then he looked down and started re-fucking Ned’s ass, very slowly, and very carefully, pivoting his hips and pelvis, sliding himself in and out of Ned’s hole with leisurely, luxurious strokes. Ned’s small body—which now looked ludicrously small beneath Hoppy’s massive muscular bulk—shook with bliss and he began to moan and groan anew.

“He’s right, you know,” Hoppy remarked to me. “This does feel good.”

“Probably, but unlike your remarkable libido and fortitude the rest of us need a little recovery time. We don’t want to break him, do we?”

“Is that… possible?”

I whispered conspiratorially, “You just grew more muscle and a longer cock and you’re asking me if it’s possible to overwhelm someone with sex? And the answer is yes.”

He laughed softly and began repositioning his bulk on the broken bed to pull himself out of Ned’s overworked butt. Thick inch after massive inch after motherfucking amazing inch of cock emerged slowly, wet and slick and shiny with cum and spit and ass juice.

It just kept coming and coming and coming—emerging like an anaconda from its hole—until the head emerged with an audible wet pop. And almost as soon as he was entirely free of Ned’s hungry butt, Hoppy’s monster started to pulse and throb and rise anew, displaying that just as Hoppy told me, the man was still horny.

Hoppy grasped himself and started stroking almost before he was even free of Ned’s ass. Pulsating torrents of intense Hoppy-scented sex waves were throbbing from him. The room looked like a cyclone had hit it, Hurricane Hoppy.

“I can’t move,” Ned reported.

“You really can’t move or you don’t want to move?” I asked.

“I’m not sure there’s a difference.”

“How much is a bed?” Hoppy asked, moving his bulk off the edge of the mattress and standing over the bed, observing the results of his muscular fucking and growth. He stood there, a towering swollen mass of perfectly developed muscle, leisurely stroking his hard-on with slick, wet caresses and apparently performing some math in his head. “I wonder if we could replace it and they wouldn’t notice.”

“I think they’d notice a mattress, box spring and broken bed frame being removed from their hotel.”

“Holy shit, we broke the bed,” Ned realized.

“They’ll just add it to your bill,” I told Hoppy. “Probably a couple of thousand.”

“Five thousand,” Ned corrected softly. He was still coherent, amazingly.

“For a bed?” Hoppy asked, still stroking.

Ned nodded. “They sell them.”

“I like how you two guys broke a bed fucking and you’re debating the cost of the fucking bed.”

Ned opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows, his slight abs flexing into power, and looked at Hoppy. If he noticed that Hoppy was bigger than when they started, he didn’t mention it. “Holy shit, are you jerking off?”

Hoppy looked down. “I seem to be, yes.”

“How can you still be jerking off after that?”

“I’m incorrigible,” Hoppy reported.

Ned looked at Hoppy’s hard-on and his eyes widened. “I can’t believe what that thing can do. It was like having a fucking vibrator inside me.”

“Not to mention the flood of cum those fat balls pump out,” I added helpfully.

“Who’s going to fuck me?” We both looked at Hoppy with our mouths open. He looked at us in turn and added, “Or a blow job. I’d be happy with either one.”

Ned almost laughed, huffing out a guffaw instead. “Well, I am fucking spent, dudes. I mean, I can edge for hours online and then cum on demand in a private sesh but holy Jesus and Mary and all the saints, I have never experienced anything like that!”

Hoppy looked at me concerned so I said, “That’s a compliment.”

“Fucking yes that’s a compliment! Holy fuck!” Ned sighed and shook his head as he watched my boyfriend stroking his still-hard hard-on and then his eyes widened and he fell back on the broken bed, pointing a finger at Hoppy. “Holy fuck! You’re bigger!”

Hoppy looked down and his naked body colored as he blushed. “Maybe. A little.”

“No, dude, you’re a lot bigger! And look at your chest! And your arms! And your abs! And your dick! And your face! Holy fuck!”

Hoppy’s blush of embarrassment deepened and he looked over at me, though he did not pause in his strokes I noticed. I shrugged and said, “Well, you are.”

He looked back at Ned and said, “Yes, I am bigger.” His hand was almost wrapped around the shaft of his dick—it was thicker than his large fingers could grip, now—and he was rubbing the pad of his thumb over the drooling mouth of his larger dick.

“Holy fuck!”

“Hoppy is special,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“I guess so!” Ned agreed. “Holy fuck! Are you, like, an X-Men or something? Is your mutant power the power of fucking? Like how your dick does that? And then when you fuck you get bigger?”

“That’s… actually not far from the truth,” I offered.

“I’m not an X-Man. There’s no such thing as X-Men. But I have a certain… genetic disposition that will sometimes yield exponential muscular development and additional height when certain conditions are met.”

I marveled (heh) that Hoppy could continue jerking off as he attempted in dry scientific language to explain why he sometimes grew muscle and became more physically beautiful when he came. All Ned said in response, predictably, was “Holy fuck!” And then he added, “You could have warned me or something!”

I laughed. “How would we have warned you? ‘Oh, by the way, Hoppy might grow more muscular and handsome when his amazing vibrating cock starts exploding so much cum inside your ass that you’ll think a cum dam has burst’?”

“Well… yes?”

“Okay, I’ll make a note for next time.”

Hoppy looked at my with one eyebrow arched. “Next time?”

“Did you forget that I promised to fuck you while you fucked Ned?”

“Actually, I did.” He licked his lips and his cock started throbbing like it does.

But Ned huffed out an exhausted breath and said, “I need a time out after that. I feel like I was fucked by a jackhammer and came so much cum that my balls shriveled to raisins.”

Hoppy, still stroking and rubbing himself, looked at Ned’s balls. “Not from this angle,” he responded helpfully.

“Oh my god,” Ned sighed. “That was epic.”

I sat back and assessed the damage. Both Ned and I were coated in massive deliveries of our own cum. The bed was broken beyond repair. The room was still overheated with Hoppy’s intense sex stink—he was probably still pumping it out in heavy waves from the way he was jerking that massive shank of raw sex that was sprouting between his insanely muscular legs—and poor Ned, the professional sex cammer, was worn out after just one Hoppy fuck session. I was feeling pretty tired myself, and then there was Hoppy.

He stood there at the foot of the bed slowly stroking his foot-high, inches thick, continually drooling erection. He had the body of a god, insanely beautiful and powerful. The muscles flexed and bulged as he slowly caressed himself, in a manner that was both a testament to his strength and a display of raw sexuality.

Then something occurred to me that sent a shiver through my naked, sticky body and made my brain spin inside my skull. Hoppy said that the biggest changes occurred during sleep, when his body was resting and allowed to repair and improve itself.

It was night. I was tired. Ned was tired. Hoppy was horny—but he’d have to go to sleep soon, too.

What was going to happen overnight? What was I going to wake up next to in that broken bed when Hoppy’s body was allowed to rebuild itself? Hoppy admitted that he wasn’t entirely sure what unlocking the evolutionary progress inside him would mean, or where it would lead, or how much he could change and improve. He’d grown so much already in the space of one day spent in nearly continuous sexual encounters, maybe more than he expected and certainly to the extent that even Ned—who never even met him before—could notice it.

Rather than face that little quandary, I decided to ignore it and clean up as much of the mess we’d made as possible. “I’m gonna shower,” I said. “I’m all cummy.”

“Same,” Ned said, staring at the ceiling. He still seemed dazed from the most recent revelations concerning Hoppy’s magically growing body.

“And then I’m going to attempt to reassemble something resembling a bed out of that wreck and grab some shut-eye.”

Ned sat up. “I should go,” he said.

“You can stay with us tonight if you want to. Unless you have a cam session you need to attend.”

“I doubt I can even get it up after that.” Then he watched Hoppy jerking his massive, pre-slicked meat for a few moments and this prick twitched. “Then again…”

“But… I’m still horny,” Hoppy almost whined. “What if we fuck once more—that double-fuck thing?—and then shower? Why get cleaned up if we’re just gonna get… cummy again?”

“Hoppy,” I said, “I love you, but I’m with Ned on this one. I just can’t keep up. I need to clean up and get some rest. I’ve come so much today that I don’t have any cum left.”

Ned said to me, with his gaze locked on Hoppy leisurely jerking, “I mean, if you want to shower first I’m happy to wait.”

I shook my head, laughing slightly. “You want him to fuck you? Again?”

“I… wouldn’t complain if Hoppy somehow found his way inside my butt and started vibrating like he does. I mean, if that would, like, help him. I hate seeing a guy who didn’t get fully satisfied after being with me.”

“I’m not sure ‘fully satisfied’ is possible in Hoppy’s case.”

“I’m standing right here,” Hoppy added.

“Yeah, you’re kind of hard to miss,” I answered. “If you want to go for round two, I’m not going to stop you. Maybe show off your superpower and suck him off? Just a suggestion.”

“Would you?” Hoppy asked politely.

“Would I? Fuck yes, I would! Assuming my jaw can unhinge itself.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said. “The way Hoppy’s dick can vibrate? He’s got a few other tricks up his sleeve or whatever.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hoppy agreed, as if only now remembering our earlier fellatio. “Although I’m somewhat bigger now, of course.”

“Of course,” I agreed. Because he was.

I stood up and felt the cooling cum on my belly start to drip down my legs. “Well, you two have fun. Try not to break anything else. I’m going to take advantage of all the fresh towels and get cleaned up.”

Ned sat up and started crawling across the bed towards Hoppy as I left the bedroom and went into the shower room. I sort of wanted to watch this, too, because I’d never seen a man with the power of super cocksucking take on the biggest cock in the state and perhaps the country. As I turned on the water I could hear both men moaning epically and knew that Hoppy was in good hands—or mouth, as the case may be.

As I stood in the hot water pouring over my naked skin, I started contemplating Hoppy’s situation and just how big he was going to get. How tall was that tallest guy ever again? Eight feet? Nine feet? What would a nine-foot tall muscular Hoppy look like? How big was that cock going to get? And how was I—or anyone—expected to satisfy a man with a colossal cock, perpetually cum-filled balls and a seemingly unlimited libido?

I was standing in the shower with my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, when I felt a hand grab my ass and squeeze, and a finger rubbing my hole, and a mouth kissing my neck. Time had again seemed to just drain away. A huge muscular body pressed itself against my back, the furry pecs like two massive and firm pillows, and I could feel something thick and hard (still hard!) and hot pushing itself between my butt cheeks. “Hi, Hulkster” Hoppy whispered into my ear, his whisker-stubbled chin on my shoulder. His arms surrounded me and his right hand crawled down my body and found my dick, surrounding it and squeezing it tenderly.

“Hi, Hoppy,” I responded, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with me. His hand was so huge that he could hold my dick and balls in his palm. I knew he was probably strong enough to crush concrete into dust, but his ministrations with my equipment were tender and careful.

“I love you,” he said. And he kissed my neck again.

“I love you, too,” I answered.

Because I did.

And I knew now that I would do anything for him.

We managed to all lie in the broken bed, Hoppy, Ned and I. Hoppy impressed me in two ways; firstly, he managed to lift and move the huge California king-sized mattresses all by himself, and watching his back, shoulder, and arm muscles flex and bulge was an amazing experience. Secondly, he made the bed carefully and completely, using new sheets that Ned retrieved for us to replace the wet, cum-soaked ones. Watching this huge, muscular man so carefully and delicately make the bed kind of made me horny.

I mean, the dude was also naked, so that helped.

Once we settled in, Hoppy was in the middle, his huge frame dominating the mattress, his feet stretching off the end, cradling me in his arms. He felt hard as a rock, but his skin was silky and being held within his embrace made me feel safe and loved. It was unusual for me, being six-one and pretty big myself to feel overwhelmed by another man, but I was growing to really enjoy it. Probably Hoppy being so sweet and caring helped. He was an alpha male and could easily dominate any situation or person, but his demeanor remained the high school Hoppy I knew so long ago.

Ned was behind him, making little cooing sounds as he slept. I imagined that he was dreaming about being fucked by Bruce Banner who turned into the Hulk as he came, swelling with insane amounts of muscle as his veiny monster cock throbbed and pulsed.

I was dead tired but couldn’t sleep after the day’s many surprising turns. How could I have imagined what was in store for me when I entered this hotel room yesterday? How could anyone?

Hoppy’s arms tightened around me and he groaned deeply, like thunder. I wondered if he also had evolution-augmented dreams, and what they were like.

To be honest, another reason I wasn’t sleeping was that I wanted to watch Hoppy grow and evolve again, assuming that was going to happen. He explained that it wasn’t a nightly activity and, having already experience at least two rounds of development in the last 24 hours, the likelihood that we’d all wake up to a newer, bigger, more improved Hoppy wasn’t high.

As we settled into the bed together, Hoppy explained, “It’s more likely that any change that occur might be internal, or merely superficial.”

“Internal?” I asked.

“Well, to be blunt, today was the first time I’ve ever been fucked. Which, I think I made clear, I really enjoyed. Since joy, satisfaction, and gratification are all positive influences, and I experienced all three very… profoundly, it’s more probable that whatever my body experienced internally of a positive nature will be augmented or amplified.”

“Like… how?” Ned asked, genuinely interested. “Like, I didn’t get to fuck you so I don’t have any direct experience. But I can certainly verify that being fucked by you is also highly joyful, satisfying, and gratifying.”

“Well, having fucked him,” I told Ned, “I can’t even imagine how it could be better than it already is.”

“Better than the vibrating dick?” he asked incredulously. “Because the vibrating dick is prime.”

“Hoppy’s butt feels like fucking a very deep, very warm, very agreeable mouth that engulfs your whole prick, massaging and squeezing your cock and practically sucking the cum from your balls.”

“Honestly, it makes me wish I could fuck myself,” Hoppy reported. Maybe one day he could!

“What? Whoa. What?” Ned looked at Hoppy and said, “Why didn’t I get to fuck you?”

“How much time have you got?”

Ned was still making those soft whimpering sounds and Hoppy was growling like a hibernating bear when I got up to pee. The toilet was in a small room next to the giant shower, but the whole place still smelled strongly of Hoppy’s personal sex cologne. Just walking into the bathroom made my balls tingle and my cock throb. “Fuck,” I whispered, wondering if they’d have to fumigate the penthouse after we left just to try to extract that funky, sexy, deeply satisfying masculine tang that stung the nostrils and made your libido needle fly into the red zone. I needed to take a piss badly but now my dick was surging back to life whether I wanted it to or not, and I stood there hovering over the toilet with a fresh hard-on in my hand trying to point the damned thing downward, but it would not budge.

I heard movement behind me and Hoppy was there, a towering V-shaped shadow. “I felt you get up.”

“Trying to pee,” I explained softly.

“Me, too. Wait, trying to?” He came up directly behind me. I could feel heat pouring off his huge naked body like a furnace.

I turned around to display my erection to him. “I walked in and took a whiff of the Hoppy juice in here and…” I gestured down at my cock, which was throbbing with thick beats.

“Hmm,” he said. “You could just urinate in the shower, if this is a question of direction.”

“Seems impractical, but all right.”

He took my place and pointed his thick nine-incher at the bowl and let loose with what sounded like a torrent, humming and sighing softly as he relieved himself. I went into the shower-room area and turned on a spigot, then stood there like some weird artwork fountaining a yellow stream of my own in a high arch.

Even after relieving myself, my hard-on refused to budge. Hoppy’s sex aroma had lodged itself in my nostrils and was humping my libido like a dog in heat. Wisps of steam were gathering as condensation on my skin and I closed my eyes and just let myself sink deeper inside the sensation of sex that Hoppy left behind him like exhaust from a rumbling Harley. He came up behind me again and asked, “How’s it going?”

“Still hard,” I reported.

“Funny,” he said, “so am I.”

I turned and looked down—although the head of his dick was nearly at eye level now—and, sure enough, there it was, that mammoth shank of thick, hard sex standing straight up and throbbing. “So I see,” I said.

“Was there… anything we could do about this?”

“You mean my hard-on and your hard-on?”

“Exactly.”

“You really are incorrigible.”

He licked his palm with that insanely long tongue of his and reached forward, wrapping his slick hand around my prick. “If you weren’t so sexy this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“So this is all my fault, said the man who pumps out pheromones like an orchid in a hothouse.”

“Technically, orchids don’t have pheromones,” he reported, moving his grip slowly up and down my cock. “Only animals. And some insects.”

“Not humans?”

He stroked me as he looked down at my cock. “It’s actually up for discussion. Humans value cleanliness and deodorants very highly. We tend to want to mask anything that smells… fragrant.” He squeezed me.

I went up on my toes. The room was growing increasingly foggy again. “Feels like a shame to me.”

Hoppy lifted his free arm, placing his hand behind his neck, and opening up his dark, sweaty pit towards me. His biceps bulged like a softball mounted on his arm. His thick, muscular lat spread out like a wing under his arm. His bright blue eyes twinkled in the darkness. “I think I smell nice, don’t you?”

“Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Who?”

The Graduate? Dustin Hoffman? Anne Bancroft? Your cultural knowledge is sorely lacking.” I sounded mad but really I was just trying not to come.

He moved closer. “Maybe you could teach me.” He pushed his regal, handsome node into his sweaty, furry pit and sucked in a thick scent of his earthy, sexy aroma. “Fuck,” he whispered, then he stuck out that long tongue and licked sweat from his hairy armpit.

He was turning himself on, which is one of my very favorite things to watch. Men who stroke their dicks and grunt and moan and rub their own holes and get very dirty playing with their own bodies. He was stroking me, sending shivers of erotic power through my loins and into my body while he licked and sniffed himself, his own prick throbbing hard and stiff. He moaned deeply, obviously growing more deeply aroused by the second.

I soaped up my palms and put both my hands around his thick erection and ran them down the length of his shaft. He pumped up a thick delivery of pre as if it had been waiting in his cock, and it poured down over my fingers like warm honey. He groaned again and licked more sweat onto his tongue, pulling the salty earthiness inside his mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed it, groaning some more.

“Feel good?” I asked softly. He nodded. “Are you holding back?” He nodded again. “Don’t,” I told him. “Let it all go. Feel how massive you are. Feel how powerful, how sexy, how fucking beautiful you are.”

He groaned, a deeply satisfying rumble, and a thick wave of heat struck me and nearly drove me to my knees. Holy fuck, he’d been holding all that back? We were in a god damned shower washing away everything and I could still feel and smell and sense his intense sexuality wash over my like a tsunami. A sex tsunami.

Teach him? Okay then. Time, I thought, for our next lesson.

“Did you enjoy throwing Ned onto the mattress?” He silently nodded, his face still pushed into his armpit. “What did you like about it?”

“I liked that he liked it,” he said softly. “I liked that I could do it for him.”

“But what about you?” I circled the head of his prick with my hand, polishing the spongey cap. “Did you enjoy feeling powerful? Strong? Muscular?” Another nod and groan. “Look at me.”

Hoppy’s deep blue eyes opened and his gaze met mine. “Take my hands.” He started to do so tenderly, and I corrected, “No. Take them. Take them by the wrist.” His hand was so large now that he could do it easily. “Pull them over my head. Pin me against the wall.”

“I like you stroking me,” he said.

“You might like this better.” He licked his lips and pulled my hands over my head, stretching my body out naked before him. Then he pushed me against the tiles, warmed by the shower and steam. “Take your other hand, and place it behind my neck.” He did so with some reluctance, perhaps unwilling to remove his hand from my prick. “Pull my face into your armpit.”

He began to do it, but I resisted, and he stopped. “I thought… .”

“Pull my face,” I instructed with a more forceful tone, “into your musky, sweaty, dirty armpit. Then tell me what to do.”

He sighed like someone resigned to doing something they didn’t fully understand. Then he started using his epic strength to pull my face into his deep, furry pit. I resisted as much as I could, but there was nothing I could do against his muscles.

When I relented at last, he said, “Lick me.”

A thrill of discovery went through both of us when I started to tenderly, carefully, passionately lick his wet fur, tasting his masculine tang on my tongue, sniffing the deep redolent stink of his musk, groaning with undisguised lust. “Yesssssss,” he hissed. “Now kiss me. I want to taste my sweat on your lips.”

Holy fuck, Hoppy! Looks like we discovered your filthy side!

I moved my face to his and suddenly found myself being lifted off the floor. Hoppy was dangling me by my arms against the wall using one hand! I mean, fuck! My cock sprang to full power and when he pushed his mouth against mine and forced his tongue inside, I felt a sizzle of pre and the warning signs of an imminent orgasm rattle my cock and balls.

He pushed his huge body against mine, pinning me to the wall. The hand that had been holding my face into his sweaty pit was now finding its way around my ass, and I wrapped one leg around his hip to allow him better access.

I felt a warm, fat digit rubbing my butt hole as we kissed and he held me, pinned me, against the tile. It was fruitless to struggle against his size and strength, and anyway I didn’t want to. What I wanted was for Hoppy to discover his own desires, his own carnal yearnings and lustful cravings.

His mouth was hungry for mine, he pushed that long tongue inside me and kissed me with a wildness I hadn’t seen before. His fingers were playing with my hole, rubbing and thrusting and exploring as I lifted my other leg to straddle his hips, feeling our hot, hard pricks rub against each other as he finger fucked me.

He released my hands from his grip—I was pinned there now by his magnificent muscular body pressed against me—and I wrapped them around him like my legs. The kiss was incredible. Then he pulled his mouth away and pushed that marvelous sweaty pit at my face again and I licked and kissed him there, tasting his deep funky tang and musky sharpness while he licked and kissed my neck.

I was overwhelmed and overpowered by him. He could do whatever he wanted with me and I was powerless to stop him. He was discovering new outlets for his limitless and formidable sex drive and I could feel his cock vibrating between us as his passion and lust grew.

“I want to fuck you,” he told me.

“Don’t ask permission,” I breathed huskily. “Tell me you’re going to fuck me.”

“I’m going to fuck you.” He kissed me hard and fast. His fingers pushed inside me. “I’m going to fuck you deep.”

“Fuck me,” I begged. “Fuck me deep.”

I was wrapped around his massive frame and he twisted around, carrying our wet, warm, lust-filled bodies back into the bedroom. He pushed me off him easily, and I flew across the room and landed on the bed next to Ned’s sleeping form.

He awoke with a start and asked, “What the hell?” Rubbing his eyes, he saw Hoppy’s tall shadow standing in the bathroom doorway surrounded with swirls of steam. Hoppy’s eyes looked feral and hungry, glittering like opals. Hoppy was stroking his throbbing monster with slow, steady caresses, his mighty chest rising and falling, glittering with water droplets gathered on his forest of dark curls. He looked like a grizzly who’d suddenly appeared in our room.

A very horny grizzly.

“Oh,” Ned said, “This is happening.”

“Fuck me,” I moaned.

Hoppy strode to the bed like a man on a mission. I’d unlocked something in him, that much was apparent. I could feel thick waves of sex throbbing from his muscular frame and then he was climbing onto the broken bed, crawling towards my naked body.

This was all Hoppy, I decided. No more guiding, no more instructions. Hoppy leaned down and started licking my hole, grabbing one ankle in each hand and pulling me open for his mouth. Ned, wide-eyed, climbed or fell off the bed and had started to stroke his own reawakened hard-on, watching in mute awe as this huge, handsome, named, sweaty, wet man started having his way with me.

I was squirming and moaning in ecstasy. Hoppy was groaning and slurping my butt and balls lustily. Ned was whimpering softly as he watched. Then Hoppy looked at Ned and instructed, “When I fuck him, you’re going to fuck me.”

“O… Okay,” Ned agreed sheepishly.

“But don’t come,” Hoppy warned.

Ned smiled. “This is a dream, right? I’m dreaming right now.”

Hoppy smiled at him. “Don’t. Come.”

“Jesus Fuck.”

Hoppy was now in charge. Fully in charge. I was already lost in a fog of his sex stink and that magic tongue painting my ass in spit. He prepared me for his massive, magic prick, slurping and groaning and sighing as he licked and fingered and rubbed me until I was shaking with desire.

Hoppy pulled his face from me butt and pushed my legs towards my body, bending me in half until my knees were on my chest and my hole was wide and ready for penetration. He sat up and drooled onto his monster, spreading the spit and pre all over his thick, veiny shaft and mushroom cap helmet. Then he kissed the drooling tip against me and started pushing himself into my well-prepared ass.

My god, I was in heaven. His dick started to throb and pulsate like a drum beat inside me. He was inching his way in, groaning like a grizzly in heat, and I felt the bed shift and realized somewhere in my foggy sex-induced stupor that Ned was standing behind Hoppy’s body, stroking himself and staring at Hoppy’s magic butt hole.

As Hoppy seated his vibrating cock inside me, Ned leaned in and started rimming Hoppy’s ass. Ned started making the kind of noises that someone who really loves eating an ass makes, moaning and slurping and saying filthy things about what he was planning to do to Hoppy’s hungry hole, but my brain was a fog of intense sexual bliss and all I could do was hold on tight for the ride.

Hoppy’s dick was buzzing and sliding in and out of my ass when something changed, and though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was I learned later than when Ned pushed his hard-on into Hoppy’s butt, and Ned was fucking Hoppy while Hoppy fucked me, I started feeling as though I was being double penetrated, distinctly feeling two cocks inside me. Or maybe Hoppy’s cock was so big it just felt like two pricks.

Hoppy leaned in hard, forcing my legs against my body and shoving my face into his furry chest, pointing his muscular butt into the air and opening his hungry hole up for Ned’s attention. Ned leaned in, fucking Hoppy with quick, rhythmic thrusts while Hoppy’s foot-long, inches thick cock was lodged deep inside me, rubbing against my prostate and vibrating with steady, constant pulses.

Ned was pivoting his hips and shoving with strong thrusts. “Aw, fuck,” he kept moaning. “Aw, fuck.” And then, “Gonna come.”

“Don’t come,” Hoppy instructed.

“Feels so good,” Ned groaned. “Gotta fucking come.”

“Don’t come,” Hoppy said. And then he did something, maybe his butt clamped down on Ned’s prick, maybe he started using that magic hole of his to stroke and massage and calm Ned’s prick down or something, but whatever he did made Ned sigh and fall across Hoppy’s wide, muscular back, breathing hard. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered. “Oh, fuck, so good.”

The rocking bed came to a rest with Hoppy’s vibrating dick in my ass making my prostate very happy and Ned’s thrusting having come to a rest as he coped with whatever Hoppy was doing to his prick.

Hoppy was in charge. We were both at his mercy. He was a top and a bottom and giving us both instructions we were more than happy to obey.

I was holding on for dear life. This was overwhelming. Suddenly Hoppy was kissing me and fucking me, and Ned was kissing Hoppy’s neck and trying not to come. Hoppy growled and Ned whimpered and I groaned and it felt like something was building between us all, something powerful and profound and intense. Something beyond mere sex and fucking.

What had I unleashed in the shower? Hoppy was clearly relishing this utter domination of our desires and our bodies, his monster throbbing with insane intensity inside me and his butt caressing and stroking and sucking on Ned’s prick while we all seemed to float in some perfect space between coming and not coming, living on that edge of pure sexual release while we waited for Hoppy’s permission to achieve orgasmic bliss.

“We’re going to come together,” Hoppy instructed. “All at once.”

“Feels so good,” Ned moaned. “Don’t want it to end.”

“I can’t,” I managed to say, “I can’t hold on.”

“Almost there,” Hoppy whispered, and he kissed me. “Almost there.”

Where, I wondered? Almost where? This felt like nirvana. This was paradise. My whole body was being fucked, everything felt good. I could hardly withstand another second of it. Ned was whimpering and moaning, clearly in the throes of a state of bliss as intense as mine. Hoppy’s muscular body seemed to throb like his dick, as if his whole being was getting ready to come.

“Almost there,” he whispered softly.

The room was quiet. We were joined together like some weird, sexy aniMoze, dick to ass to dick to ass, an unbroken fuck chain teetering on the edge of pure euphoric ecstasy.

Hoppy put his lips next to my ear. “Here it comes,” he whispered.

A thrill of excitement was colored with a more subtle pang of fear as I registered Hoppy’s words in my head. I suspected what he meant and I was scared that his dick was about to swell so large that he was going to tear me open with it.

But I was excited as well, imagining the sensation of feeling him growing while he was fucking me.

We had settled into a coupling that felt natural and blissful, with his throbbing cock pushed all the way inside me. I could feel every thick inch of him, from the way he stretched my hole open to the insanely gorgeous vibrations against my prostate to the pumping warmth of his tide of pre that flowed inside my guts. It was like being penetrated by pure sex, like the most perfect fuck in the world.

But I also knew, somewhere in my head, that even Hoppy did not know what was going to happen. His body was going through these phases of improvement as he reached towards human perfection, whatever that was. He had unleashed within himself the potential to erase every limitation and imperfection the human body might be affected by. I had seen with my own eyes—twice in a single day—Hoppy becoming stronger, bigger, sexier, and more handsome in these awe-inspiring waves that accompanied his massive cock pumping thick streams of cum, the action of sexual orgasm triggering changes to his body, continually improving and expanding his strength, size, beauty, and capability.

He’d said sleep triggered the largest changes, and now he was undergoing a double-whammy, or maybe a triple-whammy! Sleep, then fucking, then being fucked, all at the same time!

“Here it comes,” he whispered. Then he groaned. Then I felt a torrent of cum flooding my guts. A vast and beautiful warmth was spreading inside me and Hoppy started fucking me again. Ned was shaken from his reverie and he was keening or shouting, fucking Hoppy’s ass and pumping his own thick load finally free from his overburdened balls.

Then I was coming, all of us coming together on the broken bed in the dark penthouse in a room clouded with steam from the still-going shower, our bodies coated in sweat and condensation, sliding across each other, lodged inside each other, fucking and coming all at once.

I could feel more than see Hoppy’s next evolution. The room was dark and quiet, other than the three of us moaning and keening and gasping for air as intense orgasmic spasms shook all of us together. It felt like Hoppy was pushing gallons of cum inside me, and judging from the sounds Ned was making he was experiencing a similar intense sexual release aided by Hoppy’s sucking ass, draining his balls whether he liked it or not.

Holy fuck, I couldn’t think or act or do much of anything except come and come hard. I was beyond control and I wrapped myself around Hoppy again and could feel him swelling in my embrace.

He was groaning actual words, which I found amazing. My brain could only take a backseat to the pleasure my body was experiencing, but Hoppy was groaning “Fuck yes, so good. Feels so fucking good,” in my ear. His words echoed my own feelings, but my tongue couldn’t form them.

This time his growth was happening in a slow, constant inflation. His muscles were swelling larger. His cock was growing longer and thicker. I could feel his chest expanding with power and his back bulging with a mountain range of muscular bulges. He was going to be fucking starving when this was done, probably requiring an entire barbecued cow and several bushels of vegetables to resupply his new growth.

Hoppy was groaning and sighing with obvious bliss as he swelled larger on top of me. I could feel his dick lengthen and swell as his massive cum release shot into me like a firehose. I knew that I was feeling overwhelmed with sex and passion and lust so I could only imagine what he was feeling. And was Ned even conscious anymore? As Hoppy’s growth continued, I could no longer hear Ned’s voice at all.

The growth was slow but continual. He was packing on new size and strength. I felt his body sliding across mine, our skin lubed with sweat and cum, as he grew taller. His chest was massive and my face was sliding into the deep cleft between the mountainous, furry globes of power. He lifted himself up, arching his back, groaning and stretching. I forced my eyes open against the intense pleasure of our mutual fuck to try to watch him growing.

Holy fuck. Holy motherfucking fuck.

His arms! The biceps looked like footballs. The triceps with massive horseshoes. His shoulders split and rose and split again, as if new muscle groups were forming. His chest was expanding both forward and wider, cables of raw brawn swelling up under the skin like magic.

He was stretching taller. I could see it happening. It was insane and insanely sexy.

He was still coming inside me, slowly pulling his mammoth cock out and then just as slowly sliding himself all the way back in. I could feel cum was pumping out of his prick in thick, heavy stream. I had no idea where it was all going. I wanted to hold it inside me like fuel, to feel this magical process of Hoppy’s growth as somehow also part of me.

Time sped by—probably only a few seconds but it seemed like minutes, as if time slowed down to allow me to watch it happening—as Hoppy grew, and then he shuddered and sighed and stopped coming and growing, his dick stopped vibrating, and he settled against me on the bed. It felt like he weighed a ton. A literal ton. If we were not on a soft mattress, I wondered if he might have accidentally squished me under his newly developed bulk.

“Mmmmm,” he moaned, and kissed me.

“Holy fuck,” I whispered aloud.

“Is it over?” Ned’s voice sounded small and weak—and slightly relieved.

“Yes,” Hoppy acknowledged.

We were locked in our sexy tableau, worn out and deeply satisfied; me on my back on the bed with my knees against my chest, Hoppy on top of me with his fat cock shoved deep inside me, and Ned poised behind Hoppy’s hugeness grasping Hoppy’s hips with his own prick buried in Hoppy’s hole. My belly and chest—and therefore Hoppy’s belly and chest—were coated with my delivery of cream. Cum was oozing out of my hole around Hoppy’s thickness and trickling down my crack. Ned’s cum was dripping over Hoppy’s massive balls and mingling with Hoppy’s load on my butt.

The room, warm and wet from the shower and our shared energetic fucking, smelled like a sweaty ball sack. We were all coated in sweat and cum. The bed was sagging under the weight of the three grown men, one of whom was now even heavier than when he initially broke the fucking thing.

Ned pulled out first, whimpering as tingles of post-sex bliss radiated through his dick from Hoppy’s butt. Then Hoppy was withdrawing the monster from my well-used ass, sounding like someone slurping the dregs of a milkshake, slick and wet and creamy. He was growling and sighing and then he popped free and we all got our first look at what had been developing inside me, which was a fat, dangling, incredibly thick sausage coated in cum with a very full foreskin tightly covering the entire helmet.

Ned and Hoppy crawled off the mattress and stood at the foot of the bed, the differences in their heights and sizes almost too drastic to believe. Even in the darkness of the room, it was apparent that Hoppy was much larger in every way, towering over Ned’s smaller (average height) body by at least a foot and a half. Hoppy said he was 6-10 when I walked into the penthouse, and now he looked well over seven feet tall.

I just laid there in stunned silence and Ned was looking up at Hoppy’s face with his mouth agape and his unblinking eyes wide like saucers. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, but it sounded loud in the otherwise silent room.

The room was like a sauna. The heat of sex and the shower mingled in the air. I was warm and sticky and smelled like cum. My hole had to be gaping open from the assault of Hoppy’s mass. I was worn out, well and truly, and didn’t really want to move. Ned was in a state of shock, apparently, but his dick was, impossibly, starting to show signs of renewed interest as it plumped and throbbed while he stared with open lust at Hoppy.

My magnificent and unbelievable boyfriend offered his hand to me to help me off the bed. I must have looked like hell, or a well-used condom filled with his cum. I groaned with a mingling of satisfaction and utter fatigue. I felt like I’d been fucked by the entire U.S. Navy, or one of its submarines. “Turn on the light,” I asked.

He reached over to the nightstand and switched on the bedside lamp. I flinched at the brightness and then his face came into focus and I gasped. “Are you all right?” Hoppy asked, his voice a low, gorgeous bass that was almost musical.

A thrill of sexual attraction, a deep and powerful erotic lust, welled up inside me. “Oh my god, Hoppy.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You look… .”

He smiled and placed his warm hand against my forehead, brushing some of my sweaty hair away from my eyes. “So do you.”

“No, I mean, you look amazing.”

“He looks like a fucking Greek god,” Ned said, staring at him.

Hoppy straightened up and looked at Ned, giving me my first good look at the latest developments. His tall frame was just overwhelmed with power. Thick bulging muscle pushed up under his flawless skin everywhere, and every muscle was perfectly developed. He was an anatomy chart of male human perfection. His chest was made up of two incredible masses of gorgeous muscle, coated in that forest of dark fur. His nipples looked perfect, too, and I wanted to suck on them.

He had a very defined eight-pack on his belly, made of tight, perfectly formed muscles marching in alignment down his torso. The thick curls across his massive pectoral globes narrowed into a thick trail winding down the center of his abdominals and then thickening and widening on his groin like a dark crown over his cock.

And his cock! Oh my god, his cock! It was limp, now, and probably ten inches long and eight inches around. One thick vein traversed the top of the shaft and the head, big as a plum, dangled on the end surrounded by a tight, ample supply of foreskin I needed to stick my tongue inside. Heavy balls, big as tangerines, round and plump, hung dangling in his scrotum. When he moved, his cock swung like a pendulum, so ponderous and thick that it might as well have been an arm.

Powerful wedges of raw brawn lined his thighs, thick and brain-sizzlingly powerful. And every inch of his body was covered in skin that looked like silk, shiny and smooth.

But it was his face—even more than all the new size and muscle and dick—that was the hardest thing to fully take in.

Handsome didn’t even start to describe him. He was gorgeous. Beautiful. Literally stunning. If he walked into a room, the whole place would start to spontaneously cream their collective jeans, even the women. Cocks would inflate in record time. Balls would fill with pints of warm, sticky cum and those suddenly erect cocks would pump it all over the place like fountains.

He was crazy fine. I was sure—100% certain—that no man on the planet looked as good as Hoppy did now. He was almost literally insanely beautiful, with a strong angular jaw, a firm brow, a noble nose, and eyes so blue that you felt like the entire sky was held inside them. His chest fur was matted with cum, he was slick with sweat, he needed a shower pretty badly, and even considering all that, I wanted to fuck him again right now, and so did my dick.

I could not imagine how Hoppy could look any better than he did now. Then again, I had those same thoughts before we went to bed, and in the shower when he pressed me against the tile. The triple whammy had worked its miracle. Hoppy was a towering model of masculine perfection.

I whispered, “Whoa.”

I probably looked like I was having a heart attack or a stroke or something, because a concerned look came over Hoppy’s intensely beautiful features. His brow furrowed and his eyes widened and his soft, pillowy, kissable lips formed a little “O” that I wanted to stick my dick inside, knowing that it would slip down his throat like magic until he sucked all the cum currently pooling in my balls out of my wildly exploding cock.

“Go look in the mirror,” I told him.

“Yeah?”

“Dude,” I said, seriously.

“You should see the view from behind him,” Ned said, almost giddy. “This is fucking crazy insane unbelievable!”

Hoppy smiled and I nearly came. He shook his butt for Ned’s benefit and I heard him groan and sigh like a man watching the most perfect ass on Earth invite him in for coffee. He straightened up and walked into the bathroom which had very large, nearly wall-high full length mirrors facing each other, almost as if the hotel expected the most beautiful man in the world to want to watch himself from every angle. The bathroom light flicked on, illuminating the steaminess that was pouring out of the shower like fog rising off some indoor forest pond. I looked at Ned and he looked at me and his mouth formed his own ‘whoa’ and then he pointed at his dick like there was something wrong with it, but when I looked all I saw was another award-winning hard-on throbbing with insistent pulses.

“I know how you feel,” I agreed. If I hadn’t exploded cum all over myself a few minutes ago, I would have started doing it now.

Ned whispered to me as if he didn’t want to embarrass Hoppy, “His ass feels like a mouth.” I nodded. “No, dude. It. Feels. Like. A. Mouth. Sucking your dick. When you’re fucking him.”

“You don’t have to whisper, Ned. He knows.”

“How does he do that?”

I pulled in a long, deep breath and sighed it out. “Long story short, Hoppy is a genius bioengineer geneticist and he’s made some ongoing unique, unusual and, let’s agree, very agreeable alterations to his own DNA, the result of which is that during orgasms, because he is triggered by intense pleasure or gratification, he… grows. Bigger. Everywhere.”

“The fuck?” Ned looked towards the bathroom where the world’s most beautiful man was checking his latest developments out.

“The fuck,” I acknowledged.

We both heard Hoppy’s deep and sexy voice from the steamy room ask, “Is my butt too big? I think my butt’s too big.”

I answered, “I didn’t get a chance to measure it, but I think Ned would disagree with your assessment rather vehemently.”

“Your ass is fine, dude! Your ass is one prime piece of ass! I’d eat your ass for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and save some ass for a midnight snack!”

“Does that answer your question?”

Hoppy reappeared in the doorway, twisting his torso around to attempt to assess his butt like a dog chasing his own tail. Then he stopped and moved his hand over the prominent, muscular hump of his butt cheek, which, I had to admit, was one hell of a butt cheek. “Yes,” he said, adding, “Thank you, Ned. It’s difficult to judge one’s own buttocks.”

“You’re welcome, Clark.”

“Clark?”

“As in Kent,” Ned clarified, grinning. “I half expect you to leap giant buildings and stop locomotives any second now.”

I looked at Hoppy and noticed that for a man who looked like he did, he didn’t look very happy. “Something amiss?”

“This is getting out of hand,” he said. “How am I supposed to function normally if I keep growing? I’d estimate I’m nearly seven feet tall, now. Just getting in and out of cars is going to be difficult.”

“Buy a truck,” Ned suggested. His eyes were hungrily scanning every inch of Hoppy’s bigger, more muscular frame. He was slowly stroking his hard-on. “Dude, you look amazing. If I looked like you did, whether or not I could call an Uber would be pretty far down on my list of worries.”

“I think I know what’s really worrying the man,” I said, sitting up on the cum-soaked bed. “Hoppy is shy.”

Ned’s face registered disbelief. “That… that man is shy. The man we just three-wayed into a body that looks like it could dead lift Greenland and a cock that could be registered as a national monument and a butt capable of sucking my dick better than any dude ever sucked my dick… is shy.”

“I’m not shy,” Hoppy complained, “I’m just reserved.”

“Dude,” Ned said, putting a lot of meaning into that single word.

“He didn’t always look like that,” I volunteered. “I would imagine it takes some getting used to.”

“What did you used to look like?”

“Short,” Hoppy said. “Overweight. Lots of acne.”

“The hell you say!”

“He cleans up well,” I agreed.

Ned looked at each of us in turn, continually stroking his dick like he couldn’t help himself. “And you’re also… ?”

I held up my hands, “Oh, no, no, no, no. This is just plain old me. Six feet, two inches of slaving at the gym and avoiding eating carbs and running too many miles and getting $50 haircuts me.”

“And you guys have been a couple all this time?”

“No, we were friends in high school,” I explained. “We’re here for a reunion, but it turned into a lot more than that.”

“He loves me,” Hoppy said, looking at me with devotion.

“This is true,” I agreed. “Very much.”

“And I love him.”

“You dudes really know how to show up your high school classmates, I’ll say that for you.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Hoppy said. Just standing there talking normally pretending he didn’t look like a muscular, well-hung, beautiful-and-not-too-largely butted statue by Michelangelo portraying the perfect man. I’ve seen the statue of David in person and David looks like shit compared to Hoppy. “I wanted to see Hulkster again. I… wanted him to come be with me.”

Hoppy looked at me and his face looked worried, and in another moment I realized why.

“I told you I wanted to change your life, Hulkster. I want us to be together and… I want to offer you the change.”

“The change. Wait, the Change? The big dick, more muscles, cock-sucking ass change?”

He nodded. “The whole package. You and me. Together.”

“Whoa,” Ned said.

“Whoa,” I agreed.

“Yeah,” Hoppy announced.

Ned said, rather happily, “I don’t know if my vote counts, but I vote yes! Holy fuck, dude!”

“It’s crazy,” Hoppy said. “I know it’s crazy. We haven’t seen each other in years, or even spoken. I sprang all this on you out of the blue. You never would’ve even shown up here. But… it was my dream, it’s always been my dream. To be with you. Because I love you. I always loved you.”

“Holy shit,” Ned whispered. “This is like watching The Bachelor or something, except The Bachelor looks like naked Superman and instead of a rose he’s offering a dick that vibrates like a… vibrator.”

I laughed despite my surprise. But I wasn’t surprised. Not really. “I think I always loved you, too, Hoppy. But we were friends so I just never considered… and you want me to… ?”

Hoppy nodded. “I love you. I want to be with you. Together forever.”

“Moze,” Ned said curiously.

“Huh?” Hoppy and I both looked at the small sinewy man stroking his cock at the foot of the bed.

“He’s your Moze!”

“What’s a Moze?” I asked, not unsurprisingly I think.

“Sorry, sorry, go on, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

But Hoppy also asked, “What’s a Moze?”

“This is so random,” Ned said. “So, in high school? Which was only like a few years ago for me, not, like, decades or whatever…”

“Hey, now,” I cautioned him. “Some of us have feelings, you know.”

“Dude, I’m fucking with you. I’m totally into hot daddies.”

“You take that back right now, young man, or I am going to spank you!”

“I’d be into that, too. Anyway, there was this dude I liked—well, we were also best friends—named Moze. Moses Aloysius Gabriel Jackson, if you can believe it. Gorgeous, friendly, amazing singing voice, the dude was like… perfect. Like if you took Idris Elba and folded him into Pharrell and sprinkled some Taye Diggs all over the top. And I always kind of had a thing for him, but we were friends. Good friends. Best friends. Also he was like Mr. Perfect and shit, strict church-goer, straight A super-nerd, sang in the school choir, the dude everyone liked because he was just, like, nice, maybe because his dad was a cop. And I was like Mr. Hang Out Getting High in the Parking Lot, school is boring, let’s fuck off and play Call of Duty all night long dude. I mean, sure, we did some mutual stroking a time or two. Gave him a hand job once, which was… amazing. Dude owns a monster cock. Just massive. He came almost as much as you do, Hopster.” Hoppy smiled at the new nickname. “And I think about him all the time. Like, all the fucking time. But we never did anything about it, even though I got the impression that he wanted to, too.”

“Moze,” Hoppy said.

“You should look him up,” I added, taking Hoppy’s hand in mine and looking up at him. “Because happiness doesn’t come along as often as you think it will, and you don’t want to have to wait twenty years before you discover that it was there the whole time.”

Fat, heavy tears were forming in Hoppy’s blue eyes. “Twenty years is a long time to wait.”

“I… still have his number in my phone. I could never make myself delete it. Like a wish.”

“Or a dream,” Hoppy said. “Call him. Right now.”

“No one calls anyone anymore, Hoppy,” I explained. “You text.”

Ned was fishing his phone from his discarded pants. “Now? It’s like… fucking… three o’clock in the morning! I don’t even know if the number still works. Or where he is. Or if he’s like married or something.”

“One way to find out,” I said. “And don’t wait. Do it now. Let him know you were thinking about him. Let him know what he means to you.”

“That’s a lot to put in a text. Usually I just put ‘sup’.”

“Well, start there.” I squeezed Hoppy’s hand and he squeezed mine back.

“And then what? What do I say? I don’t have a reunion as an excuse or anything.”

“Start with ‘sup’ and see what he responds with, if anything. If you were best friends, you’ll be amazed at how quickly and easily you can pick it all back up again.”

“It might help if you look like me,” Hoppy suggested.

I looked at him and my heart was swelling. “Hoppy, I love you. You. The you you always were, which is still you regardless of the package you’re in.”

“Or the size of the package,” Ned added, unhelpfully.

“Same, Hulkster. You always looked amazing. But it wasn’t the way you looked that made me love you.”

“Jesus, if you two don’t shut up I’m gonna start crying, too.”

“We’re gonna get cleaned up.”

“And call room service,” Hoppy added.

“No! No, don’t call room service. I’ll take care of… all this. Room service will just make it all more confusing.”

“You’ll take care of the broken bed and the cum-soaked sheets and the general ‘it looks like this place was struck my a semen tsunami’-ness of it all?” I was doubtful of anyone’s ability to cope with this mess.

“I’m a man of many talents, one of which is hiding those things that one might want to hide. I strip naked and stick missile-sized dildos in my ass online. You think I can do that and keep a job at a swanky hotel?”

“Swanky?” I asked.

“Well, expensive then. The bed… you said you’d pay for that, and money solves a lot of problems. And I can shove the cummy sheets and towels in the laundry. Cummy sheets isn’t an unusual circumstance in a hotel, which shouldn’t surprise you. Even penthouse suites. Especially penthouse suites.” Ned, hard-on intact, pulled me off the mattress and shoved Hoppy and me into the bathroom. “You guys get cleaned up, have some naked fun, grow more muscle or whatever. I’ll handle this.”

“And what about Moze?” I asked over my shoulder.

“I’ll… also handle Moze. Whatever that means. And… thanks for the inspiration.”

We didn’t fuck in the shower while we got cleaned up, but we did make out like high schoolers on a field trip. Hoppy was so much taller than me now that it was kind of awkward, but his offer to give me the… what did he call it? The Change. That would solve that problem, though I assumed it might introduce a fuck-ton of others.

At the moment, holding him in my arms, kissing his lips, kissing his neck, kissing his nipples, feeling his slick body, his muscles, his fur, everything about him was turning me on, physically and emotionally. I didn’t want to think about what it meant to my lift give up everything and be with him. It was all I wanted right now. It felt like it would be all I ever wanted from now on.

We finally decided that all that soggy making out was going to turn us into prunes so we toweled each other off—and I admit that it took me an inordinate amount of time to towel off Hoppy’s incredible body and that prime shank of raw sex hanging from his loins and when we went back into the penthouse bedroom Ned proved to be a man of his word.

The place was immaculate, and—except for the broken bed which was now just a set of mattresses laying on the carpet sans bed frame—it somehow looked like none of the previous hours of copious copulating ever happened. Hoppy’s sex scent was still hanging in the air, but it was now mingling with the pleasant aroma of scented candles, and the cum and sweat somehow fused agreeably with the sandalwood and vetiver.

Ned was now clothed in his uniform, sitting in a chair and fervently typing on his phone, his young face lit up by both the screen and one of the brightest smiles I think I had ever seen. “I assume you contacted Moze,” I said, judging from his expression.

He looked up and his face was the very epitome of happiness. “Dude! You will not fucking believe this.”

“I’m standing next to a man who inflates with muscle, grows a bigger cock, and increases his already unbelievable beauty after almost anytime his balls unleash their unstoppable flood of warm, creamy cum up his foot-long,” I glanced down, “—excuse me, more than foot-long cock. Try me.”

“He watches me!”

“Like a stalker?”

“No, dude. Be serious.” It was sort of hard to take that advice literally. “Moze is also bbc4u2c!”

“You lost me.”

“He’s on Chaturbate and he watches me! He’s been watching me! He’s, like, a fan! Buys shit for me off my Amazon gift list, sends in hundreds of tokens. Never even told me!”

“And he works for the BBC?” Hoppy asked, confused.

“Big black cock,” Ned clarified for us oldsters. “For you to see. Big black cock for you to see. Like, I know him! Or, I guess, I re-know him.”

“Small world,” I observed wisely.

Ned was talking very fast, his excitement clear to see. “I should’ve known! Dude is hilarious, just like Moze. Because he is Moze, of course. We’ve done privates and he never even offered c2c.” We probably looked as confused as we were, so Ned offered more education in the ways of online sex. “Cam to cam. We would watch each other get off. He still lives here, too! And, get this, the dude owns a fucking gym! Dude’s a fucking massive bodybuilder! I mean, holy fuck, look!”

He held out his phone screen to us. Evidently, Ned and Moze had been sharing more than texts. It was a picture of a dark-skinned torso from the neck to the groin taken in a mirror. And, as Ned so eloquently put it, the dude was totally a fucking massive bodybuilder. With, I probably don’t need to add, a big black cock.

“Impressive,” Hoppy observed.

“No face?” I asked, automatically. I always insisted on seeing faces when setting up a fuck session. Dudes have a habit of faking their profile shots, or hadn’t you noticed?

Ned sucked a breath in through his lips. “Oh. My dude.” He twisted the phone back around, flicked his fingers across the screen a few times, and turned it to face us again.

Ned’s earlier description more or less hit the nail on the head. Moze had Idris’s smile and scruff, Pharrell Williams’s bedroom eyes and high cheekbones, and Taye’s dark complexion and overall beauty. He had a collection of wild, uncontrolled dreads on his head and tied into a long, thick tail hanging down his back, and his ears and nipples were pierced. Not to mention a body that would make The Rock wonder why he’d been wasting his time all these years. Not huge with muscular bulk but very clearly designed to present the epitome of muscular aesthetic beauty. And holy shit, what a chest! Moze must have his own apartment on the benchpress where he just stays for weeks on end, like a timeshare. “Wow,” I said. “So… he’s sending you naked shots of his body which I assume means he’s also slightly interested?”

“He wants to meet up,” Ned said nervously.

“But that’s a good thing, right?”

“Like… now.”

“Sound like he’s anxious to see you.”

Ned blushed. “He… was waiting for me to come online tonight. Said he was sitting there in front of his computer with his cock in his hand wondering where I was.”

“You’re nervous,” Hoppy observed. Ned nodded.

I said, “I still don’t see a problem. He knows exactly what you look like. He watched you and your large red dildo online. He sends you gifts and likes watching you masturbate or chaturbate or whatever. Feels like a perfect match to me.”

Hoppy added softly, and with a note of disappointment, “His chest looks bigger than mine.”

“Goals,” I said, rubbing his soft, rubbery nipple with my thumb.

“Invite him up,” Hoppy said. “I’d like to meet him, talk about muscle development and diet, find out how he managed to get so big.” I was still rubbing his nipple because it was funny to watch him trying to be logical while I was making his dick throb.

“I’ve a strong feeling he might have some questions for you, too, Superman,” I added, drolly. “I’d imagine he might be juicing.”

“No! I said the same thing. ‘Must be drinking ‘roid cocktails to have a body that big.’ He told me he’s all natural, said steroids make your balls shrink and could cause him to grow a gut, which wold ‘ruin the symmetry of my torso.’ He’s all about aesthetics. Dedication. Dude works out six days a week.”

“You still haven’t explained the problem.”

Ned looked at us, “When he sees you dudes, how am I supposed to compare? I mean, Hoppy is literally—literally—the perfect man. And you look like someone put a set of definitions of masculine comeliness into a computer and you popped out, with your stupid muscles and that stupid face and those stupid eyes.”

“You’re being silly,” I said. “He already knows what you look like, and besides, it isn’t about that. You guys have a history, and he gets off on watching you get off. I’d put down a pretty big wager that no matter what we looked like, Moze’s gonna walk in that door and his eyes are never going to leave your face. Except to look at your dick. And then suck your dick. In his mouth.” Ned’s phone pinged. “He seems anxious.”

He looked down at his phone. “He’s so fucking hot.”

“So are you,” Hoppy offered. “Ned, we haven’t known each other for very long, but I… kind of have a knack for judging people. When you’re shy and small and overweight, you can tell what someone is like by how they treat you. I may no longer be small, or overweight, but… you’re a sweet man. You’re nice and thoughtful and you can clean a room like magic. You’re a good person.”

“Who gets off on fucking himself on camera, which I count as an important and positive attribute, if that matters,” I added.

Hoppy nodded. “Being open minded is important.”

“And open assed.” Hoppy growled at me. “I’m just trying to inject a little levity in the situation.” I wrapped my arm around Hoppy’s waist and he put his arm across my shoulders. “Look, Ned, these are a weird and awkward circumstances. You’re feeling weird and awkward. But… don’t pass up this opportunity to correct something you’re going to otherwise regret for the rest of your life. And, if nothing else, you’ll finally get to c2c with bbc4u2c! Win-win!”

Ned laughed and the tension broke. He lifted the phone, typed in a few clicks, and waited for a response. The phone pinged back almost immediately and that same bright smile lit his features again. “Oh my god.” He looked up. “He’s coming here.”

I looked at Hoppy. “See if he can bring some some of his extra-extra large clothes. One of us has outgrown our wardrobe. Again.”

Hoppy grimaced. “It’s not entirely my fault, you know. You were the one fucking me,” he said to Ned. “And you were the one I was fucking. I think we can all share the blame.”

“Blame, huh? More like credit if you ask me.”

“Exactly,” Ned agreed.

“Do we have any snacks to set out? Maybe some cheese and crackers?” I looked at Ned. “Do you think Moze likes brie? I worry that he’s watching his boyish figure and maybe just some fruit would be better.”

Hoppy looked at me curiously. “What are you talking about?”

“Company’s coming! I’m just trying to be a good hostess!”

“Room service ends at two,” Ned informed me.

“Just as well. Something tells me that Moze is more interested in eating your ass.”

“As long as I get to suck that dick.”

“Whatever you say, suck_boy_prime.”

Ned pursed his lips and blew me a kiss. “That’s Mister suck_boy_prime, to you.”

I was starting to feel like I was building a Hoppy Harem.

First Ned, an oversexed muscle Twink with a mouth that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch and take a dick so large that it might as well be a bowling pin, and now Ned’s long lost super hot well-hung bodybuilder high school best friend and secret crush who enjoys stroking his dick while watching Ned fuck himself online and he owned a fucking gym! I didn’t even bother to ask Ned how old he was and how someone that young could own a fucking gym, but maybe if my brain wasn’t overwhelmed with lust when he arrived, maybe I’d have the wits to ask him.

Plus, according to Ned, he also sang? Like having that body and that face and that cock wasn’t enough. No wonder Ned was anxious. I didn’t even know the guy and even I was experiencing the sensations of jealousy and apprehension.

I wondered if Hoppy had another superpower that sent out a hot guy attractor in a two mile radius and they were all being drawn to him sight-unseen for reasons even they couldn’t account for. Like, some ultra-hot stallion randy for fresh cock is sitting in some bar ogling a piece of prime meat and all the sudden he starts sniffing the wind and feels this hot-and-bothered sensation overcome him and hightails it out of there, grabs an Uber, and is right now positioned on the sidewalk in front of this hotel with a massive hard-on in his jeans looking for the source of all that sex stank.

If it turned out that Moze had a hot twin brother who worked as a stripper, I was gonna call bullshit on reality.

It didn’t take long before we heard a knock at the penthouse door that could only be one man. I was half-dressed in my cum pants from earlier, lounging in a chair. Hoppy had pulled his superhero tights up his legs and tucked his thick and impossibly beautiful prick and massive balls inside, which looked fairly ludicrous, but he was also shirtless, which, holy fuck, okay? And Ned was in his full uniform for some reason, even though I told him that it was kind of pointless and Moze would probably rip him out of them before he was all the way inside the room.

We didn’t immediately answer which prompted a weird, high-pitched voice from outside to call “Room service! Do you need a turndown, sir?” That had to be Moze, and he was mimicking a maid’s voice and doing it fairly badly.

“Answer the door,” I told Ned.

“But it’s your room,” he protested.

“Answer. The fucking. Door,” I repeated behind gritted teeth.

Hoppy started getting up from the couch and said, “I’ll answer it,” but Ned sprang to his feet and pushed against Hoppy’s furry pecs, saying, “No way. If you answer it he’ll just spontaneously come and that’s half the fun.”

“Hello? Ned?” This time Moze spoke in his normal voice. He had a smooth, velvety tenor and I bet he sounded like fucking Marvin Gaye when he sang. Holy fuck.

“Oh, hell, I’ll answer it,” I said, getting to my feet and going to the door. I opened it and I think I maybe laughed slightly? Because the man standing outside was absurdly large.

His pictures didn’t do him justice, but how could they? Why Ned ever let this dude out of his reach I’ll never understand. Holy fuck, indeed. “Sorry,” I said, after pulling my jaw off the floor. “Come on in.” I offered Moze my hand and said, “I’m Alexander, also known as Hulkster.”

Moze’s smile was large and bright, filled with rows of white teeth in perfect alignment. “Moze,” he said, “Moses Jackson. People call me Moze, which I suddenly find rather boring, Hulkster.” He smiled and his teeth shone like lights from his face, bright and perfect.

Oh, fuck. He’s charming, too? Oh, fuck. Moze was wearing a ridiculously tight white V-neck t-shirt under a well-fitted black leather jacket. He had encased his muscular legs and what was undoubtedly a massive and gorgeous squats-assisted ass inside a pair of midnight blue denim jeans, and wore black and white Chuck Taylors on what I would guesstimate to be size 14 feet. His dreads were, if anything, even more impressively long, hanging nearly to his butt. His face was clean-shaven but with a dark shadow showing where his whiskers would be. He was easily over six-and-a-half feet tall.

I opened the door fully and said, “Welcome to the den of iniquity.”

He nodded and strode through, not getting very far before he said, “It smells like cum in here.”

“Oh,” I answered. “That’s probably because of all the cum.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed. I accompanied him into the penthouse living room where my shirtless boyfriend with the dick-hardening face and Superman body stood up—and up—and offered his hand. “Well, this explains all the cum,” Moze observed.

“Good to meet you, Moze. I’m Jeremy Hopkins, but please call me Hoppy.”

He took Hoppy’s large hand in his and shook it easily, seemingly unaffected by Hoppy’s sheer physical beauty and uncompromising muscular development. I didn’t know what to expect when someone encountered Hoppy’s ever-improving countenance, but ‘no reaction’ wasn’t even on the list. “Does everyone have a cool name but me?” He looked over at the third party in the room and asked, “Are you still Ned, or should I call you Mr. Sexypants or something?”

“Hi, Moze,” Ned said, seemingly scared to even move.

“Hi, Ned.”

“You… look amazing.”

Moze looked down at himself. “I do, don’t I?” Then he folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head slightly. “Took you long enough to get back to me, asshole.”

“I… what?”

“In our senior yearbook? I wrote ‘Have a great summer. Call me.’” He looked at Hoppy and me, “And did he? No he did not.”

“Oh, shit, that’s totally true! I remember that!”

“Picture it, my friends. A sad, lonely, forlorn little… sorry, huge dude sits by his phone day and night, night and day, wondering why his friend never calls him. So what’s a man to do except devote the rest of his life to going to the small, well-equipped gym that his bodybuilder dad willed him and shove so much iron around to that I might as well be a bulldozer.” Moze took off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. Fuck, his arms! I’ve seen bodybuilders before but he wasn’t lying about the bulldozer part. “I even added a smiley face and everything.” He made a pouty face. His lips were large and tender, like he could kiss your whole face.

“I’ve… been busy.”

“I know. I’ve been watching you.” He rubbed his crotch with his hand and smirked. “I like how you moan.”

“You told me. A few times.”

“Every time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you really were?”

Moze shrugged. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I… kind of liked the anonymity of it. That I could watch you while I stroked my dick—watch you with all those toys that I fantasized was my cock—and you didn’t know who I was.”

“Did you guys want a glory hole or something?” I asked. They both looked at me and Moze laughed. I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him at Ned, who got up and faced his old friend for the first time in years.

“You look amazing, Moze.”

“I feel even better.” With that he dropped his jacket and surrounded Ned in his arms, pulling him into a tight, muscular embrace and pressing their bodies together. It only took a moment before Moze’s mouth found Ned’s lips and they were kissing quite passionately.

I felt something I was becoming familiar with and looked over at Hoppy on the couch. He was watching the two young men kiss and embrace while he leisurely plucked and rubbed on his peanut-sized nipple with his thumb. It was making his cock swell and lengthen and the room was quickly filling up with his potent and formidable sex scent—or cum smell, as Moze put it. I found myself pulling it inside my lungs and holding it there, like a toke on a joint. It almost acted like a drug, intoxicating your brain with sex and arousal which made me think of something crazy that I decided to file away for later. “You’re leaking,” I said to him softly. He looked at me questioningly and I sniffed the air.

“Can’t help it,” he replied. I knew the feeling. My dick was gonna start leaking any second.

The kiss was getting… heated, so I cleared my throat like the shirtless horny slutty gentleman I am to remind them there were others in the room.

It did absolutely nothing.

“Maybe we should go into the bedroom,” I told Hoppy.

“I’m… actually quite happy where I am at the moment,” he admitted, moving his thumb to his neglected nip and running his other hand along the quickly thickening length of cock caged within his Under Armor stretch pants, shoving its drooling head farther and farther along his hip.

“Well, sure, but they haven’t seen each other in a few years and obviously they want to get reacquainted.”

“Why did it take us so long?” Hoppy wondered aloud.

“So long to what?”

“We didn’t get to the groping stage of our reintroduction for about an hour. This man walks in and they just start making out in, what, five minutes?”

“Three. Tops.”

“And they’re already playing with each other’s asses,” he observed, shifting his blue eyes to where Ned’s hand was grasping and kneading Moze’s prominent and muscular buttock like he was making bread.

“Maybe it’s related to the length of the separation. We have decades on these two kids. Lots more baggage to move aside. Plus, you look like someone covered you in muscles and dipped you in handsome sauce.”

One of Hoppy’s eyebrows arched. “Moze here isn’t exactly chopped liver.”

“Good point,” I agreed.

“Hey,” Moze said, “a little quiet please? I’m trying to seduce my best friend into using my body for his own pleasure.”

“Sorry,” Hoppy and I said at the same time.

Ned came up for air. “Holy shit.”

“That bad?” Moze asked, teasingly. He pushed his body against Ned’s, rubbing their hard-ons together.

“You totally suck,” Ned told him.

“I thought that was your area of expertise.”

“I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe you’re you.”

“Here I am. Me,” Moze said, rubbing himself against Ned again. “So… wanna fuck?”

“He’s very direct,” Hoppy observed. “I like that.”

Moze stepped back from their embrace and started tugging the hem of his shirt from his jeans slowly, teasing Ned—and us—with glimpses of his abs and obliques. Then he was peeling the shirt over his head, wrestling the sleeves off his fat biceps and wide delts before dropping the shirt to the floor.

“He owns a gym,” I mentioned to Hoppy.

“Does he?” Hoppy moved the hand caressing his cock under his pants to get direct contact.

Moze’s body was an anatomy map of perfectly formed muscles. It was very, very evident that the man knew his way around a workout and had been doing it non-stop for years. And he certainly hadn’t skipped leg day, if the way those jeans wanted to rip themselves off his lower body was any indication. And though Ned had shown us a picture of Moze with a limp dick in it, it appeared as though his friend was a grower and a show-er, as the thick length of prick caged behind his button-fly was threatening to push its way free whether he liked it or not.

Moze started unbuttoning Ned’s dress shirt and moving it tenderly from his shoulders, leaning in to kiss his neck and chest and nipples. Then Moze’s hands were exploring Ned’s smaller body. “You always were beautiful,” he told him. “I’ve wanted to do this forever.”

“Me, too,” Ned agreed, moving his own hands over the incredible muscular contours of Moze’s torso, groaning “holy fuck” more than once as his eyes drank in the size and his hands explored the hardness and strength of Moze’s carefully built muscles.

Moze placed his fingers under Ned’s chin and turned his face up, then carefully and tenderly kissed his lips not with lust but with love this time. Hoppy sighed and a fresh, warm delivery of his sex aroma filled the space. We were all bathed in it and I felt my cock twitch and swell, and I was just standing there. Heaven knows what it did to Ned and Moze who were practically fucking each other with their pants on.

And although Hoppy had by now managed to pry his monster from his pants and pushed them down off his hips to extract his heavy balls, churning and pumping and filling with cream, and his prick was approaching its mind-bending, ass-splitting proportions again as he slowly stroked and caressed himself, its throbbing, foreskin-wrapped head arching to nestle between Hoppy’s bowling ball pecs and drool pre in the deep cum gutters lining his belly, Moze only had eyes—and lips and hands—for Ned.

Maybe Hoppy wasn’t as overwhelmingly gorgeous to everyone as he was to me. Maybe I was drawn to him because I loved him, and love sees with rose colored glasses. How else to explain the fact that a hyper-muscular, hyper-sexed, hyper-beautiful deity was sitting on the couch jerking his fourteen-inch high, wrist-thick hard-on, coaxing warm, oozing puddles of pre to pool on his eight-pack abs while he pumped out a cum-scented cologne that could zero in on your brain’s pleasure centers and lick them with a foot-long tongue and Moze seemed utterly oblivious to him?

Moze stepped back again and started unbuttoning his fly, signaling that we were fast approaching the main event. It was like Hoppy and I weren’t even in the room with them, which was both irritating (because I also wanted to fuck them) and surprising (because how could they just ignore that a sex god was sitting there stroking his cock?).

Ned watched Moze pop each button on his Levi’s with undisguised lust. Frankly, we could all already see what Moze was packing in those tight jeans because it had swelled several thicker and longer and made a very distinct cock-shaped bulge. Moze’s body was either very smooth or very shaved, but as he revealed his groin it was apparent that he kept a rather thick bush down there, which I thought was sexy as fuck. Comparing Hoppy’s thick carpet of chest fur and that sexy treasure trail with Moze’s utter lack of any body hair displayed that both options could yield exceptionally gorgeous results. Personally, I like manly fur on a guy, but I also enjoy the sensation of exploring naked skin with my hands.

Moze was very good at seduction, even when it was totally unnecessary as it was with Ned. He milked the moment of each button release as if he was shooting a thick wad of cum out of his cock. He would pluck the button open, allow his jeans to spill more of their contents out, sigh with contentment, pull in a slow breath, and then apply his fingers to the next button, each release like a little orgasm he was enjoying as his prick slowly gained its freedom.

Ned just stood there mesmerized. Perhaps he forgot he was wearing pants, even though his hard-on was building its own tent. It was little bit like watching a nature documentary concerning the sexual habits of the North American homosexual male. “Here we see the alpha male exposing his penis to the beta. Notice how the alpha extends and prolongs the experience, also extending and prolonging the pleasure to be had in this act of purely visual erotic stimulation.” In a British accent, obviously.

Slick stroking sounds started to come from the couch where Hoppy was still sitting, a familiar sound in the room by now as the endless flow of warm pre that Hoppy could maintain with seeming effortlessness was now aiding his slow, luscious strokes. I looked over and felt a thrill of desire burn through me watching Hoppy, his fat cock in one hand, his other hand carefully and continuously teasing one of his nipples, watch the other two men in the room slowly strip themselves naked. My heart was in love with the man, but my dick could somehow overcome that deeper sensation with one of pure lust for him, a sexual desire so strong that I could not fathom how anyone else could resist him.

His gaze met mine and something unspoken passed between us. He rose from the couch, stroking himself without pause with one hand while reaching for mine with the other, and he took me into the bedroom, leaving Ned and Moze to do as they wanted in the main room of the penthouse.

“Was there… something you wanted?” I teased.

“Just your dick,” Hoppy replied.

“Why, Dr. Hopkins. I didn’t know you cared.”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

The direct approach! Moze was having a positive effect already.


We used the poor, abused, broken bed again with some athletic fucking, which probably threatened to break the hotel floor at this point. Hoppy was insatiable, and we were flip-fucking like professionals at a flip-fucking rodeo, riding each other to the edge of explosion and then swapping positions and doing it again.

If Ned and Moze were being overly vocal or athletic out in the other room, I was oblivious to it, captivated entirely by Hoppy’s non-stop sexual drive and the vast number of erotic tools now available to him.

Hoppy was almost evil in his ability to keep me right at the verge of pumping a fountain of cum from my steel-hard cock without ever actually exploding. Whenever the phrase “I’m gonna cum” was sitting on the tip of my tongue (or the tip of my prick, more accurately) Hoppy seemed to know before I could get the ‘I’m’ part out and switch his tactic, pulling his mouth or his ass or his snake-like tongue off my dick and diving in to lick my butt hole or kiss my lips or play with my nipples.

He’d gone from inexperienced virgin to super fucker in a day! I had no doubt that in the next 24 hours he was going to be the one teaching me some new tricks.

I lost track of time but at some point the bedroom windows started to fill with dawn’s light and Hoppy finally allowed me to blast my pent-up load of cream in his ass while his tongue was shoved down my throat like a second prick. Then he was pushed inside me again, his cock throbbing and vibrating and rubbing my prostate, his heavy balls slapping my butt, driving me into senseless realms of incredible pleasure before he groaned like a dinosaur in heat and unleashed his hot, sticky flood in my guts again, which made me feel full and content and filled with sex, like he had somehow given me some of his overwhelming erotic power.

I was resting atop his massive frame, both of us breathing hard.

Out of the blue, I asked him, “Do you think you’re leaking sex?”

His insanely handsome face registered his surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

“Is it possible that when you’re aroused…”

“Which is always,” he said, rubbing his naked body against mine.

“Right, agreed. But… it occurs to me that I’ve also been rather randy almost since I walked in this room. I mean, not all that unusual because, as discussed, I am rather a whore, but it’s not just feeling horny when I’m around you. I’ve come, like, four or five times. And not dribbles, either. Like, big, fat, thick streams of cum.”

“I had noticed,” Hoppy agreed, smiling.

“What I mean is that’s not… normal. I’m no genius bioengineer but even I know that the average dude our age shouldn’t be capable of pumping endless award-winning fountains of cream. Ned maybe could, he’s still young and his hormones are in overdrive.”

“So your theory is that my body is somehow externally influencing other bodies in close proximity, increasing not only their arousal and stimulating their sexual desire, but also having a real, physical affect on their body’s sexual abilities as well.”

“Well, I would have said that you drive us so sex crazy that our balls are shifted into overdrive and our cocks stay hard enough for hours to drill holes in concrete but… yeah. Is that possible?”

“A human body would be hard pressed to maintain that level of sexual arousal for an extended period.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” I agreed. “Is there, like, some chemical process that does that? Why, in essence, are we horny?”

“My area of expertise doesn’t include human sexual response and arousal cycles, so this would all be conjecture without doing some research and study,” he said in his sexy deep voice that made my balls sizzle and my cock throb. “But theoretically and completely without supporting data, most human physical and sexual response is chemically-based at its core. Though there are emotional, psychological and cognitive aspects of the sexual cycle of excitement, plateau, orgasm, and resolution that would be difficult to account for. Human sexual arousal, in particular, is deeply ingrained and involves primitive, fundamental mechanisms informing generalized brain activity, of course. Physical attraction and sexual preference obviously play a part and must be present before… .”

“You’re drifting,” I told him, though it was all very interesting, my cock was still throbbing and my balls were still tingling even in the midst of this very unsexy explanation of sex. I knew that if I pushed my dick in Hoppy’s ass right now, I’d be pumping fresh explosions of cum out of my rock-hard prick in no time. I was horny as fuck and ready to go.

Again.

He nodded. “Long story short, it’s possible that what you theorize is a result of my alterations, but I can’t be sure.”

“Is there any other possible explanation?”

“None that readily come to mind,” he admitted. “This is… concerning.”

“I don’t know where I’m sitting—laying—it doesn’t feel all that terrible.” I hugged his warm muscles tightly.

“My concern is that if this is occurring, it might expand and grow stronger in league with all the other physical changes.”

“So you could become a walking hard-on that makes everyone around you into horndogs with non-stop erections drooling rivers of pre, twitching butt holes hungry for dick, and heavy balls laden with thick pools of cum.”

“Essentially,” he agreed.

I mean, I knew I was already horny and had been since walking into the suite, but that didn’t sound so bad to me. The world could use a lot more horny.

Hoppy sighed and said, “I’m starving.”

That was when a voice from the door replied, “Room service started at 5.”

I twisted my head around and Hoppy lifted his shaggy head off the pillow, both looking in the direction of the voice. Ned and Moze, naked, were standing there. Moze had his arm across Ned’s shoulders. Ned had his hand grasping Moze’s thick dick. “Good morning,” I said.

“It is,” Moze agreed. Then he added, his dreadlocked head tilting, “You own one Olympic-quality ass,” and he winked at me. At first I thought he was talking about Hoppy, but the wink said otherwise. It was still as if Hoppy wasn’t even in the room with us as far as Moze was concerned.

At the moment, Hoppy’s Coke bottle cock was pushed in that Olympic-quality ass to the hilt and I could still feel him throbbing with dull pulses, maybe pumping out the last dregs of his copious load. “Thanks,” I said. “I work it out a lot.”

“Hard work pays off,” he agreed.

In the soft dawn light, Moze looked even better than the night before, or maybe sex agreed with him. His Mr. Universe-class body was covered in dark chocolate-colored skin that reflected light like satin sheets. He owned very perky nipples with prominent pencil-eraser points, and they were mounted at the far edge of each of his perfectly developed pectoral globes like dark moons orbiting twin planets.

His cock was enormous, more girthy than lengthy, with a more-than-ample supply of foreskin draping over the mushroom cap helmet just waiting to be pushed back by a talented tongue.

Ned was, quite frankly, a sweaty mess. I had no doubt that bbc4u2c had visited an epic ass probing on our new young friend but he’d managed to survive more or less intact. He asked, “What should I order?”

“One of everything,” Hoppy answered and he started to move his bulk from under me and extract his magic, vibrating prick from my butt.

“Don’t get up on our account,” Ned said. “Allow me to manage breakfast.”

Hoppy sighed and eased himself back inside me, throbbing hard a few times as he seated his monster like a snake in its favorite hole. Ned kissed Moze’s cheek and went into the front room while Moze said, “I’m… just going to use the facilities,” and walked what looked from my angle to be an incredibly fine ass into the bathroom.

Hoppy looked up at me and said, “That was fun.” Then he kissed me three times and sighed contentedly.

“I think I blew a nut out on that last one.” I think I might have come three times during that last fuck session.

“Don’t bet on it,” Hoppy growled, making his thick cock vibrate inside me again, somehow managing to restart my libido with erotic pulses of pleasure.

We heard Moze’s stream in the toilet, and Hoppy laughed slightly. “What?” I asked him.

“I just… never thought there’d be a day when I would have my penis inside your ass while two relative strangers stood in a doorway watching us have sex.”

I laughed too. “Yeah, I would think that among the things in the realm of possibility for this weekend, that was pretty much off my list as well.”

“I like Ned. He’s sweet.”

“Me, too.” I considered our newest guest’s oddly dismissive demeanor when it came to Hoppy. “What about… ?”

“Moze?” I grunted a yes. “To be honest, I’m a bit confused by him.”

“How so?” It was Moze’s voice, coming from the bathroom. Then he strode into the bedroom where Hoppy and I were still entangled in post-coital bliss.

“Sorry,” Hoppy said, turning his face towards where the dark-skinned bodybuilder was standing. “I shouldn’t be talking about you behind your back.”

“I’m happy to clear up any confusion you might have,” he said, folding his arms across his chest forming inches-deep cleavage.

Hoppy looked down and said, “Um, this is a bit awkward.”

“You can keep fucking,” he said, “don’t mind me. I’ll just stand here being confusing.”

I pushed myself off Hoppy, reluctantly allowing his prick from my ass, and rolled onto the foot of the bed and sitting on my butt. My boyfriend sat up and swung his long, muscular legs off the edge of the bed, his cum-slick foot-long arrayed before him, glistening in the morning light. “I apologize again,” Hoppy said. “I’ve offended you.”

Moze opened his lips and seemed about to answer, but instead he pulled in a long, slow breath and sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m being unfair.”

I stayed silent and let Hoppy do the talking, since he seemed to be the target of Moze’s subtle derision. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s… how you look.”

Hoppy’s brow furrowed. “How I look?”

“This is apt to come out harsher then I intend it to, but my history with good looking guys has been a shitstorm of epic proportions.”

“He just got out of a bad relationship,” I said, knowingly.

A half-smirk, half-smile crossed his full lips. “He Who Shall Not Be Named.” He frowned slightly. “Does it show?”

“Kind of,” I answered. “In an assholish sort of manner.” If Hoppy wasn’t going to defend himself, then I certainly was.

“I probably deserve that, too.” He looked at the floor to gather his thoughts. “I… don’t think I’m being too narcissistic to say that I tend to attract fairly good-looking men.” He looked up towards us again. “Which is nice, of course. But in my personal experience, very attractive men—and I think we can all agree that you, Hoppy, are very,” he pulled in another quick deep breath and blew it out just as quickly, “attractive. Like, insanely attractive.”

Hoppy smiled slimly, which I knew was to hide embarrassment but I wondered how Moze interpreted it. “Thank you.”

“I mean, you are, empirically, handsome by any measurement. And personally, I’ve found that guys who look like you do are so self-centered and egotistic that no one else in their world registers as worthy of their attention, unless they also look amazing naked.” Then he looked at me, and I actually blushed.

It wasn’t an unfair assessment, to be honest. I’d been accused of that more than once by some exes, long term and short term. I hoped it wasn’t true but we all tend to judge books by their covers, whether we mean to or not.

“I’m sorry you’ve been hurt,” Hoppy said, which was the most Hoppy thing to say, of course. He’d always been more concerned with the happiness of others than his own. Hell, he’d pretty much sacrificed having a social life in high school just concerning himself with my wellbeing. My heart did a little flip in my chest for him, and because of him. Fuck me, I loved him.

“Anyway, the last guy I was with was gorgeous. A pro bodybuilder with an enormous ego-sized wing-wang. It may come as a surprise but big muscles are kind of a turn on for me,” he explained ironically.

“You don’t say,” I chided. “I wonder what that’s like?” Hoppy smiled and shrugged.

“And he treated everyone like shit. Not me, at least at first, so I ignored it or played it down because I wanted to stay with him. So I pretended what my friends and my brother said about him and the behavior I saw every day was just… not important. Until he decided to start treating me that way, too.”

“Ugh,” I ughed.

“So, when I walked in and you were lounging on the couch shirtless, playing with that big dick and seemingly judging everyone around you like we were your personal harem, it got my hackles up.”

“Ah,” I ahed. “Hoppy is just a big sweetheart. Open-minded, warmhearted, kind, generous, loving, supportive, smart, occasionally funny…”

“Just occasionally?”

I kissed him. “And, just to put the cherry on top, easily the most sensual, giving, sexy, talented, and satisfying lover I’ve ever been with.” I looked at my boyfriend and added, “In no particular order.”

“Um, thanks Hulkster,” he said softly.

Moze nodded seriously. “Ned said you were cool.” He shifted his dark eyes towards me. “Both of you. And… I trust Ned, so… bygones?”

Hoppy and I exchanged glances and I shrugged. Hoppy smiled and nodded. “I’m not used to this either,” he explained, “so I guess I don’t know what to expect when I meet new people. But thank you for the explanation. I’ll try to keep those feelings in mind for the future.”

Moze’s features registered his confusion about Hoppy’s answer, but he seemed to let it pass for now. “Cool.”

There was a knock at the door and shortly thereafter Ned shouted, “Breakfast is served!” and we all, naked, went into the main room where a table had been set up and it looked like an entire breakfast buffet had been assembled.

Hoppy ate voraciously, so much so that Moze’s brow furrowed a couple of times as he watched my massive lover pile on enough food for three people and go back for more, fueling up his continually developing body for the next round of growth, whenever that happened.

“How did you and Hoppy meet,” Moze asked me, watching my boyfriend inhale a side of bacon.

“We were best friends in high school,” I explained.

“So you’re here for that reunion thing happening today? I saw an announcement on a sign in the lobby.”

I nodded. “But we lost track of each other over the years. Which was dumb.”

“It happens,” Ned said, nudging Moze with his elbow.

“Were you boyfriends in high school?” Moze asked.

“That was… a different time. No way two dudes could show up at the prom and everyone would cheer like on some CW show about teenaged superheroes.” Hoppy looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but he remained mum. “But we were best friends. I think we still are.”

“I hope we still are,” Hoppy said before sticking another forkful of bacon inside his mouth and grabbing a blueberry muffin.

“Friends make the best lovers,” Moze observed, looking at Ned. “It’s like you don’t even have to speak, you can look at each other and just know.”

“What about you two,” I asked. I looked at Ned, “Was this guy always a muscle head?”

“Who, Beanpole?”

Hoppy and I both exclaimed, “Beanpole?” at the same time.

Moze groused and playfully punched Ned in the arm. “No one calls me that anymore,” he explained needlessly.

“So, you weren’t this incredible display of muscular development in school?”

“He started working out hard when he was a junior, when he turned 16. His dad was a medal-winning bodybuilder and none of us could understand how that mammoth collection of bulky brawn could turn out this slim customer.”

“I was over six feet tall and weighed 150 pounds soaking wet,” Moze claimed, though that was hard to imagine. “My dad worked out every night after finishing his beat.”

“Police officer?” Hoppy asked, impressed.

Moze nodded his head, and Ned said, “Just like Moze’s brother. Moze’s twin brother.”

“Moze’s smaller twin brother,” Moze added proudly.

“How is Aaron?” Ned asked. Holy shit. If reality was trying to fuck with me and Aaron the cop turned out to be Aaron the stripper-cop I was going to seriously lose it. “Aaron was like Moze’s mirror universe image.”

“Star Trek,” I whispered to Hoppy.

“I know,” he complained.

“Moze was kind of shy, and Aaron was anything but. Both of them have these heavenly singing voices. Aaron ended up winning the talent show senior year and was voted most talented in our class.”

“He sounds impressive.”

Moze said, “Dad started us both working out the day we turned sixteen. I took to it like a fish takes to water. Though when I started, I hated it. It was after I began showing some real progress—real muscular development—that I started spending all my spare time at the gym.”

“No shit,” Ned agreed. “We used to hang out all the time, playing video games or watching shitty Hong Kong kung fu movies…”

“Bruce Lee is not shitty,” Moze complained. And I agreed silently. Bruce Lee is fucking awesome.

“… playing D&D,” Ned continued.

“Wait. What? D&D?” I was gobsmacked. “As in Dungeons…”

“And Dragons. Yes, we were nerds,” Moze observed.

“Some of us still are,” Ned admitted.

“Hulkster used to DM our games,” Hoppy volunteered, and I grimaced.

“The fuck you say!” Moze exclaimed, looking at me impressed. “Which version?”

“Second edition.” I was probably blushing with embarrassment. I hadn’t even thought about D&D in a decade. I was used to being all cool and shit, and here was my past as a bathrobe-wearing weekend dungeon master coming back to haunt me. Jesus.

“Classic,” Moze said. “You should try 5E. Really cleaned up the rules, expanded the races, lots of… .”

“Um, I believe I have the talking stick,” Ned said, with fake testiness in his voice. “You,” he said, pointing at me, “and me will talk later. I’m a terrible DM and need all the help I can get.”

“You still DM?” Moze asked, growing excited.

“Duh. Once a DM, always a DM.”

I was still embarrassed by my old RPG days with dice bags and hexagonal tiles and wanted to steer the conversation anywhere else. “And then?”

“Oh! Then one day I hardly see this asshole anymore. And when I do see him it’s like he’s swelling with muscle like he’s being inflated or something.” He looked at Moze and asked, “Remember that time you insisted on showing me your abs?”

“Vaguely,” Moze answered, smiling evilly.

“Dude turns up on my doorstep all excited like he just found his first pube and we go up to my room and he lifts up his shirt and the asshole is sporting a fucking six-pack!” Moze laughed with a low rumble. “He takes my hand and puts it on his belly like this,” he said, placing his palm against Moze’s ab wall, “and makes me move my hand all over his muscles,” which he then did, “and here I am, little Ned the Nerd trying really hard not to pop a woody while feeling up my best friend’s growing muscles.”

I let the Ned the Nerd comment pass. I’m nice like that.

“Yeah, turns out dad’s genes were passed along in abundance. Just took me a few years to realize the advantages.” He bounced his massive pecs. “By graduation I had gained forty pounds of muscle. Over that summer I gained ten more.”

“Three pounds a month is unusual,” Hoppy said. “One can normally expect a 5% to 6% increase in muscle size in four months, but that’s if one is working out every day.”

Moze nodded. “I was blowing up! My dad was planning on entering me in teen competitions before… .” He paused, and swallowed hard. “I was eating like a horse and working out every day. You couldn’t keep me away. It was like once my body understood what it could accomplish, it just wanted to keep surpassing my old goals.”

Hoppy moved his hand towards Moze’s chest and paused, asking, “May I?”

He bounced his chest again. “Knock yourself out.”

Hoppy placed his hand on Moze’s chest and started to move his palm across the massive globes with something like worship more than curiosity. “What’s remarkable isn’t just your development, but there’s no stretch marks which would usually appear when you gaining that much mass that quickly.”

“I notice you have no stretch marks either, and your BMI must be ludicrous!”

Hoppy and Moze started talking shop and admiring each others’ muscles in a very unsexy manner, discussing diet and reps and high resistance something or other. I worked out plenty but it wasn’t a religion with me. I just wanted to look good naked, I wasn’t interested in winning any contests. I turned to Ned while they nerded out on muscular development. “What happened to Aaron?” I asked him.

Moze glanced at Ned but didn’t interrupt. “When Moze and Aaron’s dad was killed—shot in the line of action, drug deal gone wrong—Aaron, who is something like five minutes older than Moze and considers himself the older brother, joined the force. I assume he’s still there.”

Moze, the muscular lobes of his shoulders and the brawny wedges of his arms now being caressed by Hoppy’s explorative hands, said, “He’s still a cop. Good one, as he reminds me constantly. He works out at the gym, too, so I see him a lot.”

I had to satisfy my curiosity. “And is he also… ?”

“Gay? Aaron claims he’s bi, but as far as I know he’s only been with dudes. It’s probably harder for him to be an out gay black man on the force. Some things in modern society move more slowly than others.”

“So, two very tall, very hot, very handsome, gay twin brothers who sing. And Aaron is also a bodybuilder?”

“Not seriously like me. He’s big but not big-big, if you know what I mean.” He eyed my torso and said, “Bigger than you but not as cut.” I took that as a compliment. “I entered a few tournaments but I hated the contest circuit. I knew I looked better than anyone else on that stage but the same dudes kept winning season after season.” He laughed slightly. “I actually think they were just jealous of my equipment. Had to wear this ludicrously small pouch on stage and I could hardly fit my junk into it. I’d walk across the boards and my cock and balls were bouncing like they were on shock absorbers.”

Hoppy and I exchanged glances and I know I was thinking that I really wanted to see that. “Really?” I said, licking my lips.

“Dude. After a while I bought this sparkly gold thong just to show off. Started incorporating some dance moves in my presentation that made my cock sway and swing around like a fucking pendulum. I’d shake my big ass at the audience and they would lose their shit. There’s some video on YouTube somewhere. I was shameless.”

“Did you bring a laptop?” I asked Hoppy.

“Of course.”

Moze grumbled. “Brother, I’ll let you watch that video if you let Ned probe your brain about DMing.” I started to object, but he tut-tutted me. “D&D is cool again! Acquisitions Incorporated. Critical Role. Bro, crawl out of your cave and have some fun.”

“Wouldn’t he need to crawl into his cave if he’s playing D&D?” Ned observed.

“And what about you two,” Moze inquired. “Ned works at a hotel and jerks off online, I live at a rundown gym occupied by a collection of serious meatheads downing protein supplements like candy. I gather that Hoppy here is a superhero slash supermodel slash living wet dream who wanders the globe spreading deep funky clouds of intense masculine arousal like a lawn sprinkler in the summer heat.”

“How did you know?” I asked, feigning surprise.

Moze laughed. “What do you guys do for a living?”

“Hulkster is a writer,” Hoppy announced.

I froze and felt my skin grow hot. “I’m… an IT support person,” I corrected.

“But he should be a writer,” Hoppy reiterated. “When we played D&D, Hulkster would compose these elaborate back stories for us. Pages and pages. Things we could use in the campaign. Really creating honest, flawed, fully-fleshed characters. And then he had this whole world he built, pretty amazing. I told him he should be a writer professionally. Because he’s really good at it and the world deserves to… .”

“I’m an IT support person,” I said, interrupting Hoppy’s praise. “Live in So Cal, been with a series of start-ups, haven’t had a lot of luck. No Facebooks or Googles in my history. But I do all right, I guess.”

Hoppy was looking at me with something like sadness. There was a sudden silence in the room and, maybe for the first time, I wasn’t feeling horniness bathing me like a hot shower.

Moze, apparently a diplomat as well as a bodybuilder, decided to change the subject. He pushed his own plate away and looked at Hoppy. “Brother, I am impressed that you can shovel all those carbs and pork fat inside your gob and still maintain that BMI. You must work out like a dog.”

“Not really,” Hoppy admitted, softly.

“He has a… very generous metabolism,” I offered.

“Dude grows muscle like a garden grows weeds,” Ned added.

“Epic genetics,” Moze observed. “I mean, a guy can do a lot to improve his build but unless you start with good genes, you’re not going far.” He raised one arm and flexed his biceps into power. “My upper body seems to just drink up muscle, but getting my legs big takes some fucking effort.” He relaxed his arm and looked at Hoppy, asking, “Do you mind if I… ?”

“If you… ?”

“Take a look at you?”

“Oh! Not at all! In fact, I was kind of hoping I could get some pointers from you about that.”

“Pointers from me? Dude, you have a professional quality body already. You’ve got the mass, the definition, the symmetry and aesthetics. Plus your face looks like you borrowed if off a fucking runway model. I’ve never seen a better developed body with muscles that large. I’m frankly amazed I’ve never seen or heard of you before. How tall are you?”

Hoppy moved his chair back and stood up. “Um, I’m not sure…”

“He’s six-ten,” I volunteered, craning my neck at him.

Moze got up, too, and walked over to where Hoppy was standing. “Fuck. Six-feet, ten-inches and probably 280? 290?” He moved his hand across Hoppy’s wide tapered back. “You could stroll onto the stage at Mr. Olympia and make the other contestants cower with inadequacy. That’s assuming you could somehow squeeze that dick into a poser.”

“He wants to get bigger,” I said.

“Bigger?” Moze repeated, disbelieving. He whistled a wolf call.

“A lot bigger,” I said, reaching over and caressing Hoppy’s butt. He flexed his ass in my grip and lifted up his arms, flexing the muscles into full-blown power, creating twin 20-inch towers of steel-hard brawn so perfectly symmetrical that he looked Photoshopped. I was moving my hand all over his butt and I heard a small groan of pleasure from his massive chest. His deep armpit exposed, wet and furry, meant that a fresh delivery of Hoppy sex cologne was soon wafting out from his magic body.

“Fuck,” Moze whispered, sniffing the air like a dog searching for a familiar butt and rubbing his prick with his hand. “Does anyone else suddenly feel… exceptionally horny?”

“Sorry,” Hoppy responded automatically, still tensing his biceps for us. His lats were flaring out to mind boggling widths and his narrow waist and hips created a V taper so pronounced that it looked like he would topple over.

I took my other hand and waved some more of the invisible aroma into the room, hearing Moze moan with potent arousal. “I think he likes it,” I observed.

Moze’s nostrils flared and he closed his eyes, sucking the stink into his lungs as those massive bowling ball pecs of his swelled towards us. “Fuuuuuuuck, it’s intoxicating, like bathing in fuck juice.” He swallowed dryly. “It’s making my dick swell.”

“No shit,” Ned observed, laughing slightly. Hoppy’s funk was having a very obvious effect on Moze’s heavy prick, just like it did on me. It was swelling and lengthening behind his caresses with unbelievable speed, the fat head starting to slip free of its thick and ample cowl of foreskin. His cock was dark brown like his body, but the head was bright pink.

Hoppy’s natural curiosity, likely piqued by our earlier discussion concerning his unusual and growing capability to arouse others, made him ask, “What does it feel like?”

“Hot,” Moze said softly, his eyes closed. “Wet. Like… like after a workout, when my body is sort of buzzing or vibrating. When I’m feeling… big and strong and sexy as fuck. When I’m coated in sweat and funk and stink like a ball sack.” He pulled in another deep breath, making his nostrils flare. “When my muscles are stretched and bulging, pumped up, filled with power. And… my butt hole is… tingling. Or, like, gaping. Winking. Pulsing. Like it knows what’s around and it wants it.” He opened his eyes and looked at Hoppy. “Fuck,” he groaned, grasping his swelling prick and squeezing so hard the veins stood out on his forearms. “Feels fucking amazing.”

I decided to urge it on, whatever it was, by nudging my fingers deeper between Hoppy’s butt cheeks and teasing his hole. “And does it feel like it comes from inside your body or outside?” I asked, rubbing Hoppy with gentle but urgent intrusions. Standing close, I could feel his sexual arousal growing hotter and stronger, like waves of pure sex pouring out of him.

Moze closed his eyes again and sucked in another deep breath. “Both. Neither. I don’t know. But it’s getting stronger. Fuck, it feels so good.”

Hoppy looked at me with an eyebrow arched. I smiled, feeling naughty, and pushed two of my fingers between my lips, wetting them with spit before lowering them to his butt hole. I cupped his muscular ass with my palm and pushed my spit-slick digits inside him, rubbing and nudging his highly reactive prostate. He groaned and licked his lips, looking down at my grinning face and smiling at me. His heavy, monstrous prick jumped and throbbed.

Moze gasped and stretched his head on his powerful neck, flaring his nostrils again to pull another deep suck on the masculine sex saturating the room’s environment. He seemed more powerfully affected than me or Ned. Maybe because this was his first exposure and we’d been existing in this fuck funk for hours. Maybe because of some other chemical reaction having to do with their bodies both being more muscularly developed than we were—more… classically masculine, in a sense. Who knows?

But it was incredibly arousing to watch Moze becoming incredibly aroused. He was simply standing there, naked, soaking in Hoppy’s invisible broadcast of continual sexual stimulation, and we could all watch it manifest, turning from insubstantial to physical like magic.

I rose up on the pads of my feet and whispered to my boyfriend, “Make him come.”

He huffed out a small breathy laugh and squeezed my fingers with his hole. “Really?”

I nodded. I wanted to see if there was an element of control in what Hoppy’s body was doing. There were three other men in the room with him, and if he was simply sending out a steady throb of pheromones or whatever, we should all be affected in a like manner. Could Hoppy target someone? If he was worried that this was going to cause him problems going forward, what if he could… command it? What if he could direct it, or turn it off and on?

But I didn’t tell him any of that. If he was going to summon some control, guidance, or direction over it, it would probably need to be instinctual—intrinsically part of who he was, now.

And watching Hoppy, I could tell he was enjoying this. As he pushed more stimulation into Moze and that stimulation manifested physically and emotionally—as Moze gasped, and groaned, and sucked in sudden breaths, as his prick swelled and lengthened and throbbed, or his hands grasped into fists, or he put his palms against his massive pecs and grasped and kneaded and caressed his own muscular bulges—it seemed to urge Hoppy on.

“Oh, fuck,” Moze moaned at one point, struck by something very intense as his cock jumped and a fat surge of honey began to drool from the mouth of his prick. His heavy balls were shifting and pumping in their low hanging sack.

“Almost,” Hoppy whispered softly. His blue eyes narrowed and a slim smile lit his soft lips. He was learning quickly, experimenting and testing, seeing what worked like a scientist in a lab. As I finger fucked his hole and caressed his butt, Hoppy lifted one hand to his chest and placed the other on end of his prick, stimulating his sensitive nipple and his sensitive cock head with slow, tender, concentrated teasing, rubbing and stroking, stimulating and pleasing himself as his eyes stayed locked on Moze’s shuddering body. “Yes,” he said softly.

Moze started breathing hard, gulping in air. His mighty chest rose and fell, his abs swelled and receded, his cock throbbed and rocked, writhing in obvious need and hovering on the edge of explosion. “Oh fuck,” he kept repeating. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

I think I whispered, “Holy shit,” or something, watching what was happening to Moze. I was feeling jealous and excited and envious and aroused. The man was by now almost shaking with bliss. Whatever he was experiencing was intense and potent.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered again, almost inaudibly.

“There he is,” Hoppy said.

The tall, wide, handsome, muscular, dark-skinned, dreadlocked man with pecs like beachballs and a dick like a third leg sucked in one last quick breath before his cock rose to prominence and started pumping fat streams of cum. It splattered across the table, onto the used dishes and empty plates, thick fountains of cream a dozen times, as he gasped and groaned and shook with utter sexual release. After he’d pushed out those long strings of cum with almost violent eruptions, he just kept going. I watched him come without any seeming external stimulation at all.

With my hand on Hoppy’s ass and my fingers nudging his happy button inside, I could feel him growing again. It was very slight this time, hardly visually noticeable, and without my direct contact on his body I may not have otherwise registered it, but his gluteus became more maximus, the round, firm muscle of his buttock growing warm in my hand as it slightly expanded outward with new growth, and his warm, wet hole squeezed against my intrusion. The same was true of his upper arms and chest, the biceps, triceps, and pecs suddenly but subtly bulging bigger beneath his tight skin. Looking up at his face, he was smiling and shuddering slightly, as if overcome with a chill passing through his body.

Then Moze just stood there, his hard-on slowly growing limp, but still drooling out the last supply of his load, fat drops of white cum swelling at the mouth of his prick and falling slowly to the table, rich as cream gathered in thick pools. He was gasping through his nostrils, his eyes closed, his muscles tensed, his prick twitching and jumping, looking like he’d just experienced something godlike.

We were all shocked to silence. Hoppy just stood there—my fingers inside him, pleasuring him, rewarding him—smiling brightly. Ned’s mouth was hanging open and his dick was throbbing along with his heartbeat. I was giddy and excited about what this would mean, both for Hoppy and for me.

Moze released an abrupt exhale and opened his dark, liquid eyes. He licked his lips, looking down at the cum explosion he’d unleashed all over the table. His cock was still semi-hard and dripping cum, and his dark skin glistened with sweat.

“Heaven,” was all he said.

Hoppy had managed a miracle without hardly trying. A mere suggestion from me was all it had taken for him to drive another man beyond pleasure’s edge and explode with cum without ever touching him. It didn’t seem possible, but we had all just witnessed it.

Hoppy seemed to have taken possession of Moze’s libido and lit a flame under it, turning up the heat until the man could withstand no more of it, forcing him to unleash a wild and powerful orgasmic explosion that sent a dozen thick fountains of cream up his hard cock and made him gasp and swoon with unbridled sexual release.

‘Heaven,’ is all Moze said, but we could all imagine what he meant, having seen him unload that copious explosion from his swollen balls. Hoppy focused his warm, sticky pool of arousal on one man, hardly speaking or moving at all, and managed in the course of a few minutes to help him achieve an orgasm of epic power, leaving Moze gasping and shuddering with release.

In turn, Hoppy grew again, pushed no doubt by the shared passion of watching Moze and helping Moze conquer the pinnacle of sexual bliss, filling his balls with cum and then squeezing them until he pumped his entire load up the hard, throbbing inches of his massive dick and he splattered thick streams all over the table between us.

Moze was recovering his faculties and then he looked at Hoppy—who was looking back at him—and he grinned. “Holy fuck,” he said softly. “What was that?”

Hoppy shook his head and said, “I don’t know. Did you… like it?”

“The man just pumped a couple gallons of cum all over breakfast,” I observed. “That’s generally a good indication of ‘like’.”

Hoppy tilted his head. “I just wanted to make sure Moze enjoyed it. After all, he didn’t appear to have a lot of say in the matter.”

Moze swallow thickly and nodded. “I did, though. I was in control the whole time. It was like… like… .” He was obviously struggling to put the experience into words. His open hands were grasping as if physically searching for the words. “It was like I could… feel… what you wanted me to do, and then I let you in, I allowed it to happen. And then there was more, and I wanted that, too. And then more. Like being pushed on a swing and going higher and higher. The more you pushed me, the better it felt, and the more I wanted it.”

Hoppy also nodded.

“And then something… changed. Something… something clicked.”

“When I found you,” Hoppy stated, mysteriously.

Moze looked at Hoppy with a kind of wonder. “So, are you like an alien or something? Sent to Earth to improve our sex lives? Make us all super sexed up and shit?”

“I’m a geneticist and bioengineer,” Hoppy replied.

“Hot. So… that thing you do, how do you do that? Can anyone do that? Because that was excellent and I want to do that and have that done to me again.”

“I don’t know,” Hoppy repeated. “I’ve never done it before.”

“But you can do the other thing, right?” Ned asked.

“The pheromone thing,” I added. “Isn’t this just that only… stronger?”

Hoppy considered his answer for a moment while Moze basked in post-orgasmic bliss and Ned, being Ned, started cleaning up the breakfast dishes and Moze’s copious cum flood. “It felt the same, but also different. From my point of view, I just wanted to help Moze enjoy a fulfilling sexual experience.”

“Sure,” I said. “Simple enough. But most of us use our hands or mouths or butts. You didn’t use anything.”

“Not precisely true. When I started to concentrate on Moze, I established a kind of connection. I could… feel him.” He paused. “That’s imprecise. Not him, exactly, like a conscious being with a mind.”

“Yes,” Moze agreed. “It wasn’t exactly something I knew, or felt emotionally. But I felt something. Organic?”

Hoppy nodded. “It was another type of connection, both physical and not. Interpret? Resolve? Maybe there is no word for it, yet. Interesting.” He paused, and then looked up. “I focused my concentration on him and I started to… tune in to his frequency? I was allowing myself to send out the… what do you call it?”

He looked at me and I said, “Sex vibes.”

“Sex vibes. Which appear to be part sensual—the pheromonal discharges—and also part neurological.” He started thinking aloud, giving us all a passport into the genius that had unlocked Hoppy’s full potential and was making magic happen. “Brainwave patterns are essentially electrical pulses from masses of neurons—nerve cells—that more or less inform every action or reaction our bodies perform. Responding to stimuli—sound, light, or in this case touch, for example—neurons affect sensory organs to alter perception, and send signals to the brain and the spinal cord, affecting the entire nervous system. Ordinarily, these are strictly internal responses, obviously, but the method of communication between neurons is simple electricity. Making us essentially batteries.”

“Like in The Matrix,” Ned observed.

“I suppose so,” Hoppy agreed. “Electricity itself isn’t a power source, though. It’s an energy carrier. The energy comes from other sources like coal or or wind or solar and is converted. But electromagnetism exists in nature and is converted to things like lightning and static when certain principles are met. The human body has its own electrical field, in a manner of speaking. It’s how neurons convey stimulus to muscles and how the nerve endings in our fingers and tongues…”

“And pricks,” I added helpfully.

Hoppy smiled and agreed. “Yes, and pricks, convey what we are sensing through those nerve endings. Heat, cold, pain, pleasure. As I attempted to influence Moze’s body’s pleasure centers, I could feel a connection of sorts trying to establish itself.”

“So, you’re like… an antenna?” Ned asked.

“Not precisely, since those involve radio waves,” he answered, taking Ned’s question literally, “but the mechanism is similar, or so it would appear. I couldn’t quite reach him until I increased this body’s stimulations, or amped up the power. And then he had to decide to… tune me in.”

“Like an antenna,” Ned repeated, rolling his eyes.

“Once the connection was established—once he tuned me in—I could broadcast my pleasure experiences into Moze.”

“So, wait, Moze could feel my fingers in his ass?” I asked. “He could feel your hand on his nipple, and your palm rubbing the head of his cock?”

“Essentially, though not that precise.”

“It wasn’t that, I guess, focused? Or distinct,” Moze explained. “I didn’t feel fingers in my butt, but my butt felt really good. Like these… waves of pleasure emanating outward. And my nipples were tingling. And my cock was throbbing. Everything felt good, and it just kept getting stronger.”

Hoppy nodded. “Think of it like trying to tune in a TV channel. You get static at first, and then you locate the signal and you can start to make out a picture, but no sound. So you slowly adjust the frequency until your TV and the broadcaster are in synch, and everything comes through clearly.”

“So you’re a sex station, broadcasting pleasure in electromagnetic waves until someone else tunes you in and focuses your transmissions into a clear sex signal.” Don’t forget that in addition to being an excellent DM, I am also in tech support! I’m a smart guy!

“Theoretically,” Hoppy acknowledged.

“Well, it feels awesome,” Moze said. “But, excuse me for stating the obvious, how is this possible? People don’t just start broadcasting sex vibes.”

I looked at Ned and asked, “You didn’t tell him?”

“Not my secret to tell,” he answered, which immediately increased my respect for him.

“I mentioned that Hoppy is a bioengineering geneticist, but I neglected to add that he is also a billionaire genius and has altered his own DNA to increase… something… something… something… evolution.”

“I bet that cleared it up for him,” Hoppy said.

“I heard the billionaire genius part,” Moze acknowledged. “So, you’re like Tony Stark but instead of weapons of mass destruction and a flying armored suit you developed electromagnetic sex vibes and a massive cock.”

“That vibrates!” Ned added, helpfully.

“That vibrates,” Moze repeated with a confused but interested look on his features. “Maybe you should… practice some more,” he suggested, rubbing the tip of his dick, pulling away the dregs of his load and pushing his finger between his lips to suck his cum off.

“I really want to watch these two dudes fuck,” Ned announced.

“I second that emotion,” I said.

Hoppy waggled an eyebrow at Moze, who licked his lips and glanced down at Hoppy’s monster. “Now, when you say vibrates… .” Hoppy smiled and his dick, semi-hard already, started to throb with hard pulses, thickening and lengthening with mind-boggling speed. Then it throbbed faster. And got bigger. And throbbed harder. And got bigger. And throbbed faster. And got bigger. And throbbed harder. By the end, Hoppy was gripping the thick base of his vibrating monster in both hands, veins standing out on his shaking forearms, pointing its pre-flinging mouth at Moze. It looked like he was fighting his own cock for control.

Moze swallowed dryly and opened his mouth to drink in a deep gulp of air. “Holy fuck, that is so much better than a flying armored suit.”

I went over behind Moze, placed my hands on his broad shoulders, and led him around the table to where Hoppy still stood. As we approached, I could feel the sex vibes increase with heat, and Hoppy was apparently reconnecting with Moze now that he knew his unique ‘frequency’ or whatever was happening, and Moze stretched his large body as he began to experience Hoppy’s electromagnetic pleasure pulses. “Ah, shit,” he moaned. “My dick feels like a fucking vibrator! I can feel it throbbing!”

Ned and I were now standing together watching Hoppy and Moze synch up. He leaned over and whispered, “Does this mean if Moze fucks Hoppy’s ass, Moze will both feel his dick inside Hoppy’s butt and feel his own dick inside his own butt because he can feel what Hoppy feels?”

“You just made my brain hurt,” I reported, “but my ass is very interested.”

“And what if we double-team Hoppy like last night, so you fuck him while he fucks me and he sucks Moze and stays connected to all of us? So you can feel your dick in my ass and your dick in Hoppy’s ass and Moze’s dick down your throat. And I can feel your dick in my ass and Hoppy’s dick in my ass and Moze’s dick down my throat, and Moze can feel his dick down Hoppy’s throat and your dick in his ass and Hoppy’s dick… also in his ass?” He looked at me. “Is that right?”

“I think in that scenario, Moze’s dick is getting simultaneously sucked and fucked,” I said.

“Moze’s dick is getting fucked?”

“Sorry, um,” I held up one finger, “Moze’s dick is getting sucked by Hoppy,” I held up a second finger, “I’m fucking Hoppy so Moze feels my dick in his ass,” and a third finger, “you’re getting fucked by Hoppy so Moze feels his dick, which is Hoppy’s dick, which is vibrating, also fucking your ass.” I frowned. “I might need a spreadsheet.”

“And I get double-penetrated by both you and Hoppy while I suck on Moze’s dick.” He grinned. “Holy fuck.”

“Do you two mind?” Moze asked us, pulling his thick lips away from Hoppy’s mouth and impossibly long tongue while the two huge, muscular behemoths embraced each other in their massive bulging arms. “I’m trying not to come and you’re all over there talking about double penetration by Hoppy’s magic vibrating cock. Kind of hard to maintain, bro.”

“Sorry,” we both said at the same time.

I looked at Ned and whispered, “Should I mention that when you’re with Hoppy you can seemingly come an unlimited amount and achieve orgasm over and over and over?”

“No shit? Fuck. Well, let’s surprise him,” Ned suggested quietly. “I mean, I forgot to mention that Hoppy’s butt feels like a mouth sucking your dick, so… .”

“And sometimes he gets bigger when he comes,” I pointed out.

“Oh, yeah, well that probably goes without saying.”

“Shut. Up.” Moze reminded us.

“Sorry.”


There was this whole sort of boring part where we weren’t fucking because Moze wanted to understand Hoppy’s experiments and Ned wanted to figure out what to call the thing Hoppy was doing. I mean, we were all naked and there was a lot of caressing and petting and general “let’s put our hands all over each other” going on, but no—to be blunt—penetration.

On that first point, Moze was almost immediately accepting of Hoppy’s crazy DNA upgrades. He equated it with the many other “extra vehicular” (his words) things someone interested in developing their body might do. In other words, if Moze was resistance training for hours at a time nearly every day, and taking supplements to emphasize muscular growth and recovery, and carefully monitoring his diet to “maximize muscular hypertrophy” (which for noobs like me just means growth), and Hoppy was using his knowledge of molecular biology and genetics instead, what difference did it make?

Other than, you know, Moze had to work on his body for months to achieve what Hoppy could realize literally within the space of a single, strong orgasm. Other than, you know… that.

Long story short on that second point, Ned insisted—much to Hoppy’s dismay—on calling the thing he was doing to connect to our nervous systems, “hopping.” We tried bridging and linking and a whole lot of other thesaurus-worthy variations on a theme, but Ned was adamant that calling it hopping would make it sound cooler.

Also, turns out Ned is a much better and more organized slut than even I am, which is pretty amazing for someone with 15 years less experience than I had under my belt. Like, literally, my dick and butt are under my belt. Maybe Ned’s extensive public sex experience helped him expand his horizons, because people watching him would send him tokens to do stuff that maybe he wouldn’t otherwise do, and sometimes doing new stuff also meant that he liked that stuff, too.

And Moze and Ned were pretty much made for each other because Ned was a big ol’ power bottom and Moze “preferred to top” as he so politely put it, but Jesus and Mary could that man fuck an ass! My lord above, if there was an Olympics for buttfucking, Moze would be standing on that top pedestal wearing all the gold medals.

Also what Ned and I were imagining would happen once Hoppy got us all linked into his body’s bridged electromagnetic system—or his Naughty Nerve Net, 3N as Ned once again proclaimed it—was based more on our overactive imaginations than what Hopping could actually accomplish.

Don’t get me wrong it was still extremely awesome and felt stupid good when you layered sex with Hopping, but—perhaps luckily—one didn’t have to distinguish between the sensation of your own cock in someone’s ass and someone else cock being in there, too.

Now that I’m trying to, I’m actually finding it hard to describe it in terms that someone who hasn’t experienced it would understand. You know that feeling—that giddy rush of horny lust—you might experience seeing someone totally hot? But you’re not touching them and they’re not touching you. Maybe it’s even just a video or an image online, something that just hits a bullseye on the dart board of your libido? You feel warm and your cock surges and maybe your nipples tingle or your mouth goes dry—there are all these physical manifestations of your sudden erotic experience.

That thing you stroke to every day. A three-minute loop of that handsome dude coming with that look on his face that makes you feel it, or that image of some swarthy muscular guy in the shower sniffing his own pits, or… I mean, I don’t know what you’re into, but that thing. Your guaranteed cum tool? Your absolute promise of powerful pumping?

That’s the essence of Hopping. Feeling super extremely horny because your nervous system is being stimulated by Hoppy’s experiences, and apparently what he’s feeling as a result of all his upgrades is pretty fucking amazing.

For Hoppy, the experience was intensified times nine. We were only being stimulated by Hoppy—which was plenty—but Hoppy was getting stimulated by Moze, and when he joined Ned in to the 3N, Ned was being stimulated by Hoppy who was being stimulated by Moze and Ned, so his personal stimulation was now at +4 or (Hoppy plus Moze) plus (Hoppy plus Ned). When he Hopped me in, Hoppy gasped and groaned because now he was feeling all of our stimulation, plus his stimulation playing on our stimulation feeding back to him.

So of course, he started growing.

It was much more subtle than when he sprouted bigger with every pump of cum from his heavy balls. But his system, designed to respond to pleasure and gratification, obviously started feeding on what he was experiencing and as he sighed and groaned and growled with bliss, his muscles began to slowly swell with power.

We were all… rather busy, as it turned out, bathing in this deep, warm, gorgeous bath of Hoppy’s constant stimulation amplifier which had the side effect of not being able to easily, you know, have coherent thoughts other than ‘damn, this feels good!’ But I registered Hoppy whispering his standard, “it’s happening” in my ear (which he had just been sticking that long tongue into) and I pushed my naked body closer to his naked body and could feel that warmth of muscular development throbbing all over his body.

Four people engaged in mutual fucking can get messy, both literally and figuratively. Another thing Hopping accomplished was that we were all in sync. We were all… one person, but with four cocks and eight arms and I’m not sure how many holes in total, what with butts and mouths and hands and I think even feet at one point. If your cock wasn’t being fucked, it was being sucked. Or stroked. Or licked. If your cock wasn’t being licked, your butt hole was. If your lips weren’t being kissed, the tip of your cock was.

I mean, I’d provide more details but as much as I enjoyed it, but most of it is kind of a haze of erotic bliss because of all the arms and legs and butts and mouths and dicks and lips and hands and muscles and fur and nipples and… stuff.

And there was a lot of cum. Like… a lot of cum. Hoppy’s secret super power of helping his partners’ balls somehow produce more cum than any balls had a right to meant that when you felt like you wanted or needed to come, you could, and you’d still be horny, and you’d still be hard, and you could come again. And again. And again.

I confess that I became a greedy pig as far as Moze was concerned and kept shoving my hairy tight ass in his face so he’d push that amazing dick of his inside and start pumping and moaning with his deeply satisfying voice. Hoppy was never jealous because he had Ned’s welcoming and talented ass to push his monster into. I consider myself versatile but I would defy anyone to experience Moze’s cock in their ass and not turn into a hungry bottom. The man just knows how to use his prick like a fucking… prickmaster.

By the end, I was worn out, physically and emotionally. Had anyone ever experienced such a deeply sensual, sexual, and passionate encounter in human history? The Romans, probably? They certainly knew how to orgy. But in this modern age of the Internet and constantly available sex all the time, not without copious toys and drugs.

All we had was one Hoppy, and he was more than enough.


Bathing in a mutual fog of post-sex bliss, entangled in each others’ arms and legs, with lingering soft kisses being gifted between us four on pretty much whatever body part was available for kissing, it began to dawn on me that this would be our last day in the hotel, and we’d need to start planning the what-comes-next stages.

I didn’t need to consider monetary aspects since Hoppy was at least a billionaire if not a multi-billionaire which involves a considerable amount of millions, and a million dollars was more than I would ever hope to see in my lifetime. It wouldn’t be about who could afford what, it would be about who wants what, and what one is willing to give up.

I was already committed to Hoppy, heart and soul, and I wasn’t even considering not moving in with him and doing whatever I needed to for that to happen. Luckily, my friends back home would understand since most of them were also gay men and all I had to say was “I fell in love with a tall, hung, muscular, gorgeous, passionate, kind man who I am confident loves me back” and they’d start packing my bags for me.

I was ruminating on that point when Hoppy said, “I’m starving.”

“Me, too,” Moze agreed.

“I could eat,” Ned chimed in.

“I’d recommend we all shower but something tells me we’d just start fucking again,” I predicted. “Maybe we go in one at a time to reduce the fucking frequency.”

“You know, I was gonna say that there was no way after that Olympics of sex that I could even get it up again,” Moze growled, “but now when I imagine being in a shower naked with three other dudes this smoking hot, my dick started throbbing again.”

“Agreed,” Ned said. “Best. Sex. Ever.”

“Brother, that was more than sex. That was… I don’t even know what that was! But it was way more than sex. I think I reached a new level of enlightenment, like some sex monk or something.”

“I’d go to a sex temple to see sex monks if they looked like you,” I volunteered. “I mean, I’d probably go anyway, let’s be honest.”

Ned reached over with his fist and we bumped, and he said, “Wonder slut powers, activate!”

“I didn’t know you were old enough to know that one,” I admitted.

He smiled. “It’s a meme.”

Ned again volunteered to hail us some room service using his special Ned not-slut powers while Hoppy took the first shower and Moze and I lounged naked in the penthouse living room. It was starting to feel like we were never going to wear clothes again, and I was feeling exceptionally okay with that unspoken decision. “Where you from?” Moze asked, beginning our small talk.

“So Cal. Born and raised. Me and Hoppy both. L.A. area, not really important which particular city, since they all blur together pretty much. Nothing fancy like Hollywood, but nothing boring like Northridge either.”

“Just telling me the name would have taken less time,” He observed.

“I was an English major. I like words.”

His face lit up. “That’s cool! I didn’t graduate, had to devote my time to keeping the gym alive as much as possible. But I was a music major, which is kind of like being a math major, to be honest. But I think anyone with an arts major probably has more on the ball than your average MBA.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I think Hoppy has an MBA. Along with two Ph.D.s and probably a few doctorates and some sort of honor from La Sorbonne, probably just for being awesome.” I was remembering his LinkedIn profile, of all things. Hoppy and I had done zero percent catching up and 100% fucking and sucking since we became reacquainted. Maybe we would at some point, but we were having too much fun to worry about that now.

“And how long have you been together?”

“Officially? Like, twenty hours I think?”

“Wait.”

“Almost a whole day.”

“What?”

I nodded. “Much like you and Ned—not that I’m trying to make you into a couple but I kind of feel you both would like that to happen—Hoppy and I spent a good many years apart, forgetting how important each of us was to the other.”

“But you seem so comfortable together. So… in sync.”

“Like you and Ned,” I reiterated. “I’d bet that in nearly every American public high school there was at least one gay couple who were neither gay nor a couple. I know a lot of friends with a similar history about someone they liked in school, only they didn’t realize they like-liked him, and he like-liked them back. Probably some kind of social network there, re-hooking up the guys who pretended they weren’t gay in school with the best friend who they really, really wanted to kiss.”

“But if you looked like that and Hoppy looked like he looks it would seem you two would be jumping each other’s bones every day as ‘homework.’”

“How often did you and Ned hook up?”

“Yeah. Point taken. It’s not about how someone looks…”

“It’s about how someone feels,” I said, finishing Moze’s thought. “So we’ve been making up for a lot of lost days and weeks and years by pretty much non-stop fucking each other.”

“And where do Ned and I come in?”

I looked towards the shower where a very naked Hoppy was probably soaping up his tight butt crack and said, “He may not act like it, but Hoppy’s sexual history is rather subdued. So I wanted to give him a crash course in all the fun things naked men can do together. And I have this thing I call fuckdar, and Ned sent off pings as loud as church bells.”

“And what did your fuckdar say about me?”

“I didn’t need fuckdar for you once Ned shared those pics you sent him. All that was missing was one of your hands grabbing onto your ass to open up your butt hole, but you got the message across just the same.” Ned came over having finished ordering whatever we were about to eat and I said, “I had no idea he was a famous cam… guy? Cam dude? Cammer. Nor that his ass was so talented. Or that he knew such excellent friends.”

Moze beamed. “Thanks. You’re cool, too.”

“One can only try. And, I suppose it’s no surprise by now that Hoppy’s upgraded DNA is having a feast on all this sexual pleasure we’re all ladling over him like warm cream. Everyone’s body reacts to sexual stimuli, it’s just that in Hoppy’s case those reactions tend to be overt and conspicuous.”

“To say the least.” He reached around Ned’s waist and pulled him closer. “What’s for lunch?”

“Beside my ass?”

“Yes, besides that.”

“Everything, just how Hoppy likes it.”

“That dude has to eat like a horse to stay that huge,” Moze observed. “I know what my caloric intake is for my regimen, but his has to be crazy.”

“He does like to eat,” I agreed.

That was when Hoppy, naked, emerged from the shower room toweling off his long, thick, curly locks. “I need a haircut.”

“No you don’t,” Moze argued, shaking out his own massive assortment of dreads.

“Does that grow along with the rest of you?” Ned asked.

“Not that I’m aware of, but I haven’t taken its measurement as part of my monitoring process.”

“You measure everything?” Ned’s eyes danced all over Hoppy’s massive nude frame, resting at last on his dick, which was for the moment—and unusually—flaccid, a thick shank of sex meat at least nine inches long and as thick as a Coke bottle, with an ample collar of foreskin gripping its mushroom head and three fat veins winding down its long shaft.

“It becomes second nature,” Moze agreed. “Just to get an idea of how big you’re getting.”

“I have a hard time believing that chest could get any larger,” I said, admiringly. “Do you bench press Mack trucks or something?”

Moze flexed his pecs, making the cables of muscle rise against his dark skin and the two massive globes of power danced like he was hiding babies on his chest. “Yeah, if I was in competition these puppies would throw me towards the bottom of the list. Out of proportion to the rest of me, but I like them. Nothing makes someone else take notice like a huge set of pecs.” He danced them some more, making the muscle roll and ripple seductively.

Hoppy approached and set the towel around his shoulders. His body was perfect. Literally perfect. “Do we have time for a quick fuck?”

I asked him, “Uhhhh… do you even know how to fuck quickly?”

He narrowed his eyes in thought and looked at each of us in turn, his prick visibly throbbing and jerking as he did so. “Admittedly, I do not.”

“May I ask what you were considering just now?”

“I was…”

“Because your dick was like a kind of thought illustration and I’m not sure you were aware it was happening. For example, when you looked at Ned, your dick jumped. When you looked at me, it kind of…”

“It rippled,” Ned observed.

“And when you look at me,” Moze said, “you throbbed.”

“What’s the difference?” he asked.

“A jump is sudden and singular. A ripple is like a set of small pulses. And a throb is a bigger jerk than a jump.”

“Plus, when it throbs, it… swells,” Moze added.

“He’s so big now, how can you tell?” I asked. It was getting more difficult to visually notice when Hoppy’s growth kicked in.

“Well, I mean, look at him!” Moze pointed at Hoppy’s low-hanging plum-sized balls and nine-inch long cock. It was, as he mentioned, swelling.

“Oh,” I said, having misunderstood Moze’s meaning. In fact, Hoppy’s dick was slowly throbbing and swelling, growing longer and thicker every second we watched it.

“Well,” Hoppy said, “I am horny.”

“Apparently,” I agreed. His dick was now throbbing, swelling, lengthening, and rising. Veins appeared along its shank, pumping and multiplying, threading their way up the thick inches to feed the monster even more growth.

His balls were… pulsating. They seemed to be growing heavier, if the way his scrotum was starting to pull away from his body was any indication, as well as larger, inflating with cum production as Hoppy’s arousal seemed to start feeding on itself. As if the harder and larger he became, the hornier he felt. His body was preparing itself for sex, pumping his cock inches larger and filling his ball sack with warm, sticky cream.

We were all watching with mouths open as his prick, with rapid speed and unerring capability, approached its maximum size within seconds. He hadn’t touched it, none of us had, but there it was, engorging with blood and inflating by inches as the head pushed free of its cowl of foreskin and arched upwards, higher and higher.

I wondered how anything that big managed to overcome gravity and rise with seemingly effortless ease. It was a foot long and thicker than my wrist. Hoppy was watching himself inflate with the same interest as the rest of us, his slow breathing making his massive chest rise and fall and his eight-pack abs swell and recede. When he started to move his large hands towards the mammoth erection with something like cautious hesitancy, the sexual ardor between the four of us increased dramatically.

There was utter silence in the room as the three of us sat there watching in awed wonder and admiration—and jealousy—as Hoppy’s monster began to drool thick streams of precum that flowed freely from the gaping mouth of his beast and drape along the sides of his towering immensity, cascading slowly down the sides in thick swells.

His redolent sex funk kicked in strongly and suddenly, and the three of us simultaneously gasped and shuddered as the power of Hoppy’s boundless lust wrapped around us like heat from a furnace. Hoppy reconnected to us—”hopped” into us—with ease, knowing our frequencies so well after hours of commingled sexual congress.

“Fuck, dude,” Moze whispered. “What is happening?”

“I feel… weird,” Ned added. “A good weird, but… weird.”

‘Weird’ was an apt phrase for what I was feeling as well. My body was hot, my balls were sizzling, my asshole throbbed like it had a tongue attached to it, my nipples tingled like thumbs rubbing them constantly, and my dick felt like it weighed several pounds, pulsing in time to Hoppy’s monster.

It struck me that I was connected to him. Not physically, but in a way that was making my body respond to what his body was doing. He was like a conductor, like both an electrical conductor and an orchestra conductor. When Hoppy was horny, we were all horny now.

And I knew that this sensation—or sensations, really, because I was feeling it all over my body—was not something I alone was feeling, but something that we all shared, but that Hoppy was in control, like a sex sun around which we were all orbiting.

He was still staring at his mammoth, drooling, glistening erection—so much pre had been released that the entire thing looked like it was coated in clear honey, and it was gathering on his ball sack and slowly, thickly dripping to the carpet between his large feet—when he moved his hands onto the pulsing tower of sex magic and we all felt it.

We all felt it! I had to grab the arms of my chair hard. Ned almost fell over. Moze’s huge pecs rose up as he sucked air into his lungs and closed his eyes and threw his head back.

Then it got better—or worse, depending on your outlook. When Hoppy slowly stroked himself, moving both hands along the thick inches of his erection, it felt like my whole body was being stroked. I was his cock! I was hard and throbbing and hot and hungry. I could feel the cum in my balls like a ponderous weight that had to be pumped free. The sensation of pre-orgasmic bliss was overwhelming and undeniable.

I couldn’t think, I could only bask in the power of Hoppy’s sex. My god, I had never felt so completely and utterly aroused in my entire life. I was being stimulated across every inch of my body and it felt like… I can’t even express in words how good it felt!

Hoppy groaned, a deeply satisfying sound that started in his chest and belly, and I groaned too. He was now slowly, achingly slowly, stroking his hard-on with reverence and veneration. The sound was slick and wet and sticky, but the mouth of his prick was now endlessly producing a constant thick flood of pre that flowed over his grip and his fingers, lubing up his cock and adding to the musky smell of Hoppy’s sex funk.

There was a knock at the door.

“Oh, shit,” Ned whispered. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

“So good,” Moze moaned. “So fucking good.”

I couldn’t move. It was overwhelming. I had to come. I had to. I could feel the world’s biggest load growing bigger in my balls. They ached with it. They swelled with it. It was powerful and profound and rich with sexuality, a luxurious and bountiful burden that just kept getting bigger and bigger.

Hoppy groaned again and said, deeply, “I’m gonna come.”

Fuck yes, you’re gonna come! We’re all gonna come! We’re gonna paint the walls with cum!

There was another, more insistent knock, accompanied by a male voice, whose pitch rose alarmingly as he called, “Room service!”

“Oh shit,” Ned repeated. I couldn’t even focus my eyes on him to see what was happening. I was overcome with coming.

The voice outside the door said, “Holy… oh, fuck. Oh, no.”

Hoppy came.

There was a loud crash outside the penthouse, and the sound of dishes breaking and utensils hitting the door.

I can’t tell you what it looked like when Hoppy’s throbbing hard-on finally erupted, because I was too busy trying to hold on to something and not scream with the power of our shared absolute sexual release. My eyes were pinched but and my teeth were grinding together and there was a ringing in my ears and my mouth went dry and my whole body—every muscle—tensed into hardness and my cock exploded all over my belly, chest, neck, and face.

I felt like my dick was a firehose and I was trying to put out a raging conflagration with my cum. It just… gushed from my cock, thick, splattering deliveries of copious fountains of warm, wet, gooey cum. I would pump up a heavy dose and then there was like a pause or something as my body gathered strength for the next explosion, which was even bigger.

The next one was bigger than that one.

And the next was even bigger!

It was like my dick was holding back all these years and had only now discovered what it truly meant to achieve divine orgasmic ecstasy. I was making noises that I didn’t even know I could make. My whole body was coming, and it was not prepared for the onslaught of intense and vigorous cum explosions I was producing.

I groaned and whimpered and sighed and came and came and came. I was a toothpaste tube filled with cum and Hoppy had grasped me around my balls and squeezed hard, making it all come out of me in a series of profound, almost unbearable deluges of cream.

I can’t tell how long it lasted. It felt like minutes, but it couldn’t be, could it?

Afterwards—after I and my young comrades and my superhuman lover had emptied ourselves all over ourselves—I heard a slow, low moaning sound from outside the door, followed by someone’s voice saying, “Holy fuck.”

I looked at Hoppy and he was just covered in cum. It was hanging in threads from his chest hair and splattered all over his belly and arms and he was licking it from his full, sensuous lips. Moze and Ned were in much the same situation, holding their own slowly receding erections with their naked bodies plastered with thick deliveries of fresh, warm cream.

Moze’s dark skin made it look like someone had thrown pearls and cream on him. I wanted to lick the drops of cum from his prominent nipples. He was breathing hard with his eyes closed and a smile on his thick lips.

Ned was similarly effected, his pale skin so wet with cum that it looked as though he’d taken a shower in it. It was everywhere.

We were slowly recovering our wits after the sex tornado had passed, leaving cum-coated wreckage everywhere in its path, when there was another soft tapping at the door and that same voice said, “Sorry, I had… an accident. Or something. And… I need to clean this up and get another… sorry, I need to, um…”

I got up and somehow managed on my wobbly legs to get to the door and opened it, standing there in my naked cum-coated glory looking at a really quite impressive amount of damage outside in the hallway.

There was another Ned there, sitting on the carpet, though this Ned had dark olive skin and dark brown eyes and the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a man. He’d practically ripped his zipper apart and a fairly decent piece of uncut cock meat was slowly deflating in his loins. He looked up at me and his face colored with embarrassment or excitement, I wasn’t sure which. There was a cart of food next to him and a tray of more food was now spread out all over the rug, an evident victim of what we had all just inadvertently experienced.

“Are you okay?” I asked, ignoring for the moment that I was naked, erect, dripping cum from every inch of the front of my body, and emerging from a room that smelled like someone’s freshly fucked butt hole.

“I… came.”

“Evidently. But did you enjoy it?”

He laughed despite his embarrassment. “Oh my god,” he said. “What… was that? I couldn’t help myself. All the sudden… .”

“All the sudden your cock inflated and your balls felt heavy and you couldn’t think straight and all you could do was explode with cum?” He nodded. I looked down at myself and said, “Same.”

“Gio?” Ned appeared next to me, wiping cum off his skin and licking it off his fingers.

The young man on the carpet with the hefty uncut cock looked up. “Oh. Ned. I suppose I should’ve expected you’d be here.”

“Don’t blame me,” Ned explained. “I’m just a bystander in this carnage. Blame the tall, long-haired, bodybuilder-looking dude with the arm-sized dick and the massive furry pecs covered in cum.”

“Hello,” said Hoppy.

Gio struggled to his feet, tucking himself back inside his pants as he rose. He was about as tall as I was, so barely over six feet, with a very long neck and what appeared to be some fairly developed arms. He had a shaggy mop of straight, dark hair which seemed to want to slide over his eyes, and a dark shadow along his jawline where a beard very definitely wanted to grow. “Jesus,” he said, looking down at the wet cum trails staining his uniform’s shirt and vest.

I looked at the mess and started to clean it up—force of habit, I’m a neatnik—before both Ned and Gio stopped me. “That’s kind of our job,” Ned said.

“You’re off the clock,” Gio observed. “And naked. Very, very naked. You could get fired for even being out here in the hallway, what with the naked and all.”

Ned laughed. “You have a point. Introductions?”

I said, “Probably.”

“This is Sergio, but everyone calls him Gio. He’s from Italy, came over when he was a kid. But ask him to speak Italian some time and get ready to feel seduced.”

“You’re seduced by everything,” Gio pointed out.

“True, but when everything starts talking Italian I’m more seduced.”

Gio looked at me and shrugged. “I suppose there’s a good explanation for all this.”

“All what?” I asked. “All the naked and the cum and the bodybuilder with the arm-sized cock?”

“Among other things, like why you’re all naked and why this room smells like someone just fucked a gym locker room.”

“I like him,” I said to Ned.

He nodded. “He’s very likable. Too bad he’s straight.”

“Straight but curious,” Gio corrected.

“Not curious enough to come to my place.”

“But curious enough to let you suck my dick.”

“That’s not curious, that’s just common sense,” Ned responded, smiling.

Gio looked at the mess of the hall and his own clothes and said, “Better get all this cleared up. Should I… bring the cart in? I managed not to come all over the food, though to be fair it was a struggle.”

“Cum or no cum, bring it in! I’m starving.” Hoppy appeared next to me looking down at the damage he’s accidentally caused. “Oh, dear,” he said.

“You make this poor innocent soul explode with cum and all you can say is ‘oh, dear’?” I asked.

“I am truly deeply sorry about that,” Hoppy said, earnestly. His cock was still dripping, though.

Gio took the measure of my nearly seven-foot tall, built like a motherfucking brick house, furry, naked, well-hung, cum-explosion causing boyfriend and blew a breath between his pursed lips. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” he said. “Maybe I am gay.”

“Nah,” I said, “he has that effect on everyone.”

Hoppy shrugged and smiled. “Guilty,” he said.

Ned helped Gio clean up the hallway as Hoppy started eating everything he could get his hands on. Moze put a decent dent in the food as well and then, once the hallway was cleaned up, Ned ordered more.

Gio disappeared but something told me by the way he kept casting lingering glances at Hoppy’s naked perfection that we’d see him again at some point. I’m sure he was straight, but there’s “I prefer pussy” and then there’s Hoppy. He was becoming preternaturally attractive. An otherworldly beauty. The stuff of fantasies. And possibly the most attractive thing about him was that he didn’t seem to notice. This huge, muscular, hung, gorgeous, Alpha male was also unfailingly kind, polite, concerned, honest, and caring.

It was kind of annoying. I mean, if you’re going to look like that, at least be an asshole about it. But that reminded me of Moze’s prejudice against Hoppy when he arrived, and I immediately regretted thinking it. Sometimes it’s hard to just be happy without looking for the loophole.

It didn’t escape our collective observations that, beside Hoppy, the rest of us had experienced hands-free orgasmic explosions of Biblical proportions and we had Hoppy entirely to thank for it. None of us had been physically touched at all, either erotically or not. Still, we exploded with cum, just fucking exploded.

It also didn’t escape our attention that this seemed like an awkward, potentially embarrassing, and possibly problematic set of circumstances.

Hoppy could now, apparently, make other men spontaneously ejaculate to an impressive and almost unnatural degree. For the time being, he seemed to have to jerk off to do it, sort of get his own engine revving before hopping into our nervous systems and start pumping out the sex waves and fuck-stank. Possibly because we were already connected to him—and we were right there next to him and getting turned on anyway watching this gorgeous man stroking his magnificent dick—maybe it was bound to happen.

But that didn’t account for Gio. He was outside a locked door and had never even met Hoppy before, hadn’t seen his superhuman beauty or his naked muscular perfection. Was hopping evolving like everything else about his body? And if it was this powerful already, how much stronger was it liable to grow? If everyone’s body was this network of electromagnetic pulses, was Hoppy becoming a generator instead of a conduit? Were we hooked into each other and expanding his power?

My head hurt thinking about it. So I decided not to. No one else seemed to complain about having prodigious amounts of cum exploding from their steel-hard cocks while experiencing an orgasmic resolution so overpowering that it chased all thought and some emotions out of your head to make way for so much sheer, unfiltered, pure sexual bliss that it felt like you were being bathed in it.

Personally, I wondered if what I experienced was a glimpse into what Hoppy experienced all the time. That sensation of my body becoming hyper-stimulated to the extent that I felt like I was a giant dick being slowly stroked and pleasured until I could hold myself back no longer and simply had to come. There was no decision-making process involved. I had no choice in the matter.

It was so powerful that it was irresistible. The need to come was inexorable and inescapable. And when I did come, timed perfectly with Hoppy’s umpteenth cumsplosion, it was the most powerful and staggering sexual experience of my long, sordid, filthy, slutty life.

We were all covered in cum—again—and although Ned suggested we just remain that way until Hoppy’s next inevitable orgasmic eruption, I needed to get out of that cum-coated room and get some air. So I commandeered the shower to scrub my copious sticky load from my skin and got dressed in my cum pants and the rest of my outfit and went back to my own neglected room to change into something from my luggage beside cum pants.

I checked my laptop in my room, emails and work shit, which never seems to stop anymore, and I decided to quit my job there and then. It wasn’t a hard decision to make, honestly, when I considered who was waiting for me up in the penthouse and how much I realized I loved him. It didn’t hurt that he now looked like a comic book superhero with a supermodel’s face and muscles so big and strong that he could probably dead lift the moon, but it was essential Hoppy the man I was in love with. The packaging was just the frosting on the cake.

Frosting made of cum.

Obviously.

I pressed send on my notice to my boss, which was short and sweet and mentioned some family emergency I needed to take care of and apologies for the lack of time and blah blah blah whatever, so long nine-to-five grind, hello whatever one does in Montana living in a billionaire’s lodge with a stable and something else cool I already forgot. I suppose at least giving them notice rather than just not showing up and getting fired was the polite thing to do.

I felt oddly carefree and without stress, even though I had a situation developing whereby my boyfriend could inadvertently make men in close proximity to his perfect masculine beauty involuntarily pump fat loads from their suddenly overflowing balls up their suddenly rock-hard pricks all over their suddenly cum-coated chests, and probably that should have worried me but it just… didn’t.

It wasn’t as if I had any control over this situation, anyway. If anyone had control it was Hoppy himself, and I trusted that someone with a heart that big and a brain that powerful would be able to come up with some way of corralling his growing size and power before it all got out of control.

Then I wondered what “out of control” would look like? How big could he potentially get? How strong were those sex waves going to grow? His growth level didn’t seem either predictable nor steady. Sometimes he swelled with power every time he came, other times he would just slowly inflate with size and muscle, inspired by an emotional state no one ever has control over. I mean, they’re emotions, not water faucets. One can’t just turn emotions off or stop having them. And we were in love, which meant there was bound to be some happiness involved, which meant he was going to continue getting bigger and stronger and more handsome every single day.

When he gave me The Change, as he said he wanted to do, how big would I get? How big did I want to get? What was continually growing bigger like?

Plus, when there were two of us throbbing with super-powered electromagnetic pulses of pure erotic power, would a lodge in the outskirts of Montana place us far enough away to escape turning Helena or Butte into cum fountain central?

Ha ha, Butte looks like Butt. Maybe it was meant to be!

And what about Ned and Moze? And now there was Gio, too. This secret circle kept expanding—though how long would any of this be a secret once Hoppy departed the penthouse? A seven-foot-tall, hyper-sexed bodybuilder-looking dude with a foot-long sausage in his trousers and the kind of face that will set crotches to start dripping with desire when he entered the lobby. Kind of difficult to hide someone like that.

On the other hand, I thought that the more Hoppy explored his burgeoning sexuality—discovering what he desired, what he enjoyed doing sexually, and getting introduced to the many sordid and erotic deeds men can do with and to each other naked—the better off we’d both be. I’ve been in relationships with others whose sexual histories were not as, let us say, varied as my own and jealousy has a way of rearing its head in those situations, as if I were keeping a list and comparing this lover against all others, as if the sex were the only reason we were together.

Which, on occasion, was the truth. But not in this particular circumstance.

Still, now that Hoppy was turning into Superfucker minute by minute, it would probably be helpful if his emotional and sexual maturity could keep up with his physical upgrades. And based on my own lengthy and adventurous sexual liaisons, I knew that the more men and the more sex he experienced, the more he’d learn what he liked, and what he needed from sex.

There was also a danger, if danger is the right word, that he was becoming obsessed with sex. Perhaps this new body and capabilities was overwhelming everything else. I’m sure that being constantly horny and granted the ability to satisfy those desires constantly and abundantly would alter any man’s brain chemistry.

Maybe it was time to take the man out into the world? Get him away from us three naked slutmeisters and have a normal, average lunch in a normal, average restaurant? What’s the worst that could happen?

There were things to consider and discuss, but I was wondering how much of my own logical brain and its practical thoughts would survive once I was back in proximity of Hoppy’s constantly aroused state of throbbing sex-wave induced orgasms.


Before heading back up to the penthouse, I stopped by the front desk to extend our stay and ask the concierge if, as Hoppy the billionaire had claimed, he could pretty much provide anything we needed, and what I thought we desperately needed was clothing of the extra-amazing male proportions variety, like from a Big ‘N’ Fucking Hot store, or a tailor or someone who could come up to the penthouse, measure Hoppy’s various parts and then provide for him some decent togs that don’t look like someone had painted them on his muscles. Oh, and throw in a barber for good measure, because why not?

“Yes, sir,” he said with a smile, assuring me that whatever I was asking for, he’d find a satisfying solution.

Also the secretive manner in which I definitely caught him checking me out with his eyes while you were talking made my fuckdar start pinging something fierce. Was everyone gay, today? Maybe I was coated in some lingering patented Hoppy sex pheromones and I was just irresistible. But the man standing before me so well put-together and incredibly precise was a fetish queen if I ever saw one. All I had to do was peek into his closet and I would be able to take my pick, whether it was rubber or latex, leather or lace.

My fuckdar is never wrong.

“Just send them up. Oh, and, we’ll probably all be naked so, like, maybe let them know what to expect?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thanks… uh…”

“Carver,” Carver the Concierge said.

“Is that a first name or a last name?”

“Whichever sir prefers,” he said with that bright smile, which told me both that he knew I knew about his secrets as if he were screaming them into my face, and that he definitely preferred to be taking orders rather than giving them. I wondered if he got off just doing his job every day. “Do you need room service to replace the sheets or towels?”

“No, that’s taken care of, except… we broke the bed.”

“I understand, sir. Do you wish a new one or is the broken one sufficient for your purposes?”

Wow. This dude was unflappable! I wondered if there was any situation he’d find surprising. Maybe a 7-foot-tall bodybuilder with a foot-long cock who could make him cum if he got close enough? “I mean, I guess the broken one is as good as any other. The mattresses are intact. They’ve held up well no matter what we throw at them.”

“Very good. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

“When do you get off, Carver?”

He might have slightly shivered when I said ‘get off.’ “Six o’clock, sir.”

I nodded. “How do you feel about blowjobs?”

Not even a beat went by. “I’m on the positive side of that issue.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered, subserviently.

I laughed. He was going to fit right in. “If you don’t have other plans, we’re in the penthouse having sex. Feel free to drop by.”

“I shall keep that in mind, sir.”

I winked at him and offered as lascivious a smile as I could muster, then went to the elevators to get back to our little sex dungeon slash muscle development symposium.

Even just approaching our floor, now, I could smell Hoppy’s sexy funk stinging my nostrils and making my dick throb. I was still three floors away but the sensation was unmistakable. I made a mental note to open the penthouse balcony doors to allow the erotic aroma a chance to dissipate before we had the hotel’s entire collection of penises erect and drooling.

Exiting onto our floor, the sensation of sexual stimulation and sensual intoxication was strong and prevalent. No wonder Gio creamed his jeans just standing outside of the door. The whole floor was saturated in Hoppy juice, it was practically falling from the ceiling and dripping down the walls.

If you’ve ever visited the American southern states, particularly around Arkansas and Tennessee during the late summer when the humidity and temperature have the same value, you’ll get a sense of what it felt like when the elevator doors opened. Except the heat was caused by Hoppy’s sex waves penetrating your body’s electrical network, and the humidity was made up of Hoppy’s intense and erotic sex stank, blasting fuck juice up your nostrils directly to your pleasure centers and coating your skin in a warm, wet glaze of pure masculine sex.

I opened the door and walked in. No one was in the living room but at the sound of my entry, naked Ned appeared in the bedroom doorway, held a finger to his lips, shook his head, mumbled something like “You don’t want to… this is fucking… I can’t even….” And then he beckoned me towards him and I went into the bedroom.

Hoppy was lying on the large bed alone, napping. He was lying on his back and spread out to cover the whole mattress, with his arms wide and his feet positioned at either lower corner—off the edge of the bed, actually.

His cock was at full power, standing huge and thick and moving like someone was stroking it, clearly bathed in the bliss of erotic stimulation as his massive balls shifted and moved below its root.

And as I stood there watching him sleep, with a look of something like euphoria on his handsome face, his mouth slightly open, his lips alternating between a beatific smile and open into an O to suck on quick breaths, I watched Hoppy growing.

It was fascinating and erotic and a little bit scary. His whole body was slowly, subtly changing before my eyes. His chest was growing both wider and higher. His eight-pack abs were solidifying into deeply carved cobblestones lining his torso. His triceps and biceps would shift, throb, and then swell slightly larger, as if trying to decide just how big to grow.

Overall, Hoppy didn’t look particularly larger than when I left him, but the effect of growth was plain to see if one just stood there long enough.

Hoppy suddenly groaned, a deep, guttural, sexy sound that rose from that furry chest. He twisted his head and said, softly, “yes,” and then his cock jerked hard and twisted over and jerked again, and we all watched his prick gain more length and width as it danced its erotic tango, drooling strings of pre all over Hoppy’s pecs.

He wasn’t hard, yet? That thing was still swelling? Even asleep, Hoppy’s cock managed to hypnotize me with its erotic dance of palpable need. That thing wanted—no, absolutely needed to come. I’d never seen any cock more ready, like he’d been edging for two hours and the deluge could no longer be held back.

Ned, who had been holding up his iPhone to record the whole thing, nudged me with his shoulder and when I looked over he mouthed “holy fuck” at me. I just nodded, because I didn’t know what to say. I looked at Moze but he was mesmerized by what he was seeing, all the muscle just… appearing. Pounds of fresh, raw, perfect muscular development occurring before our eyes as our friend slept and his body did whatever it was his body could do now.

“Yes,” Hoppy groaned again. “Fuck yes.”

His cock twitched and shook and started pumping cum like a fucking soap dispenser. Hoppy’s head twisted on his powerful neck and his hands grasped the sheets and the muscles along his arms and legs suddenly flexed into full power, pushing upwards and separating into distinct, powerful lobes and cables.

He came harder, shoving a thick load out of his monster that splattered all over his curly dark forest and against his throat and chin and cheek. His body shook with the power of his nocturnal emission, an orgasm that was part of some incredible dream that we could only imagine as Hoppy’s body spasmed and his muscles all suddenly swelled in a singular, massive expansion.

He came again. And again. The room was growing very hot and I went to the glass doors leading to the balcony and opened them up, remembering my last coherent thought from the elevator and realizing that things were about to get even more thickly entangled with Hoppy’s growing powers.

He came and grew, came and grew, came and grew. I recognized this pattern from earlier, the direct connection between pleasure and development connecting within his body and forcing it to swell with power and sex.

“Holy fuck,” Moze said out loud, but we were all thinking it.

Hoppy blasted out a dozen thick deliveries of cum, coating his torso and arms and chest and the headboard with fat strings of cream. I couldn’t tell if his coming was making his body grow, or if his growth spasms were making him come. I believed at first it was the former, with each sudden swelling of muscle and growth occurring after every cum fountain, but by the end his body seemed to take over, like it was unwilling to stop growing, and then each spasm of muscular development was followed by a fresh gushing stream from his balls, like his muscles were making him come.

By the end, as his cock stopped jerking and throbbing and pumping cum and he seemed to come down from that intense sexual high, his face relaxed once again and he continued to sleep without the growth cycles. His muscles—larger, more distinct, and more powerful—relaxed, his cock started to slowly deflate, his breathing grew calm, and he was no longer narrating his erotic dream that had once again changed his reality.

My mouth just hung open looking at him. He was much larger now than he was only minutes ago, and certainly a few inches taller and dozens of pounds heavier with more brawn and more cock than when I met him in this room only 24 hours ago.

“Holy fuck,” Moze said again, reverently. Because he was looking at what we were all looking at, which was a cum-covered Hoppy with maybe another twenty pounds of muscle on his frame and, judging by the position of his feet, now, another couple of inches taller.

His body was ludicrously beautiful. Muscular, of course, as large as any Mr. Olympia class bodybuilder, but his definition and aesthetics were perfect. He was hairier now as well, as if his masculinity had also taken another step up the ladder of manly magnificence. I really wished he would turn over so I could see his ass, which I assumed would make my dick instantly hard and pumping my own cum all over him as well.

I looked at Hoppy’s face and gasped, nearly staggering from my feet. The man was incredibly handsome, a wet dream in the flesh, someone’s Photoshopped fantasy of what the perfect muscular man would look like, only not Photoshopped at all. An absurdly rigid jawline, high cheekbones, full, moist lips, thick eyebrows on a prominent manly ridge, flawless skin, all in all a stupefyingly gorgeous man who would stop anyone in their tracks and probably cause more than one dick to spontaneously erupt.

“Holy fuck,” I whispered.

“Should we wake him up?” Ned asked, lowering his phone now that the show was seemingly over.

“Not if he’s gonna keep growing,” Moze insisted.

“He’ll wake up when he’s ready to wake up,” I said. “Let’s let him sleep in peace.”

Ned nodded and Moze took a second to agree, obviously reluctant to miss another possible round of magical muscular development. His cock was rock hard like mine, though I think his was due to Hoppy’s body and mine was due to Hoppy’s face. Ned was hard, too, but that’s because Ned was always hard.

We exited into the bedroom, leaving a cum-coated sleeping Superman behind, and gathered in the living room to assess what was happening, and what was going to happen.

Moze sat down and started stroking himself. I would have joined him except I was still dressed and didn’t want to turn my jeans into another pair of cum pants. Ned immediately started ordering more food again. That made sense since Hoppy was likely going to be starving when he awoke, having apparently burned every calorie to turn every gram of protein in his belly into pure muscle over the course of a few minutes asleep.

Assuming that was how this worked! It seemed crazy that a human body could grow that fast, and that he was obviously enjoying a process which, for everyone else experiencing growing pains, would not in the least cause one’s balls to swell with cream as your cock pumped it all over your belly and chest. You’d probably be screaming in pain as your bones started stretching and your muscles started tearing themselves apart to swell even bigger than they already were.

Hoppy would, no doubt, have a logical and scientific explanation for it, just like he had one for his pheromones and his ability to infiltrate our nervous systems to share sexual pleasure and the fact that his butt hole could suck a dick like a very talented mouth, with or without a foot-long tongue licking his load off your lips. But did it matter at this point how it was happening? We had all just witnessed his largest growth spurt—wait, growth “spurt?” More like growth mushroom cloud!

And he showed no signs that this was going to stop.

If anything—and like everything else about him—it seemed to be growing stronger by the minute.


We were gathered around the table eating some of the food—honestly, the hotel kitchen must think we had an army to feed up here—when the bedroom door opened and Hoppy strode in, with a look of both embarrassment and wonder on his incredibly beautiful face.

I felt as much as saw him enter the room. He seemed, now, to be constantly broadcasting that sense of ‘feeling good’ that hopping into someone else inevitably provided.

I wasn’t feeling a strong urge to start fucking someone, nor did I sense the telltale throbs and tingles of sexual excitement in my erogenous zones—and those zones now extended far beyond the usual sensitive areas to encompass nearly my entire body—but a sort of calmness and happiness, like the subtle pull of a drug on my brain’s pleasure centers.

Having Hoppy nearby meant, I guess, also experiencing this gentle flow of fulfillment or pleasure. Not in strong, thrusting pushes like a cock in your ass, but more like the loving brush of a hand on your cheek or the feeling of someone’s fingers entwined with your own. It wasn’t emotional, it was definitely a kind of stimulation, but my brain reacted positively to it and made me… just feel good.

I’m not sure if we all felt that, and maybe that was just me because I was deeply in love with the man, but I could’ve sworn all of us let out a sigh or a deep exhale of contentment as he grew nearer to us.

“Good afternoon!” Ned called brightly. “How was the nap?”

Hoppy looked down at himself and held out his arms helplessly, looking down at all the new swollen mounds of raw brawn bulging on every inch of his body. He was still coated with cum, now drying and gooey, clinging to his skin and manly fur like Elmer’s Glue. “I think I grew again.” His new size had apparently also stretched his vocal chords, and his voice came out like a deep bass growl that was entirely too sexy.

“You think?” Ned asked, trying to look innocent as his gaze drank in every inch of Hoppy’s newly grown frame.

“I’m pretty sure,” Hoppy informed him. “And, my apologies, but did you guys come on me while I was asleep? I’m not upset or anything, and I kind of wish I was awake to experience it, but I’m just all… sticky.”

“That’s all you, buddy,” I told him. “Though I’m willing to bet that all of us would be ready, willing, and able to pump a few hot loads all over your gorgeous body if you’re into that.” He smiled and his dick jerked, which in Hoppy language meant yes. “Are you implying that this has never happened before? These ejaculations when you’re sleeping?”

He was plucking at some of the cum stuck in his chest hair and clinging to his deeply developed abs. “Well, I mean, not for about twenty years. And usually accompanying an erotic dream, but I don’t recall any dreams, erotic or otherwise.”

“Yeah, you were all ‘yes, yes, yes!’” Moze was trying to imitate Hoppy’s dreamy voice, and he came pretty close. “And then you were all…” He started flexing his muscles and mimicking Hoppy’s thick ejaculations and muscle growth, jerking his hips and making his own thick beast wag and jostle. It was both weirdly erotic and highly amusing.

“Really?”

“That’s pretty accurate,” Ned agreed, “only with more…” He started jerking his hips to a ridiculous degree and making his limp dick wag and shake. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“You were watching?” he asked. “Did anyone record it?”

“I did!” Ned said, and he grabbed his iPhone and brought up the video, handing the device to Hoppy. Even though Ned owned one of the largest models, it looked hilariously puny in Hoppy’s large hand.

Ned also look hilariously puny standing next to Hoppy. Ned could now stare directly at Hoppy’s nipples, which meant that Hoppy was about three inches taller than when he laid down. He was literally two Neds wide, now, and if he had previously been unhappy that Moze owned a larger set of pecs than he had, that was no longer going to be something he had to worry about.

He was simply massive, in every way. Every movement of his body was a symphony of brawny magnificence, as his muscles danced and bulged and flexed under his skin. When he raised Ned’s iPhone to watch the video, his biceps gathered into a tight, insanely detailed softball of hard power. When he breathed, his chest rose and fell like two mighty globes. The top of his head was threatening to brush against the doorframe.

And I still hadn’t seen his ass.

“Turn around please,” I instructed.

His intense blue eyes gazed up from the screen at me. “Turn around?”

“Please.”

A knowing smile crept across his ludicrously sexy mouth. “Why?”

“I just want to check something out.”

“Like what?” He was enjoying this torture.

“Just… something.”

He twisted his head around trying to check out his own ass, notably not turning around for my benefit. “Why, did I sit in paint or something?”

“No.”

He dug his fingers through his thick, wavy mane of dark locks. “Is there something in my hair?”

“No,” I admitted.

His smile grew wider. “What, then?”

“He wants to check out your ass,” Moze offered helpfully.

“We all do,” Ned agreed.

“What,” Hoppy asked, turning around with aching slowness, “this old thing?”

Even as he was turning and his buttocks were coming into view, I knew that this was going to be an ass for the ages. An historic ass. A one in a billion ass that would make dead men come.

And then there it was, two thick, high, arched globes of gorgeous glutes. An ass so beautiful that I think I started to weep. An ass like no ass that any of had ever seen befo….

“Eh,” Moze said, “it’s okay.”

I nearly choked. “Say what, now?”

“I’ve seen better,” Ned agreed, tilting his head as he gazed on Hoppy’s magnificent butt.

Hoppy was twisting to try to check himself out again. “It’s too big, isn’t it?” He set his large hands on his ass—one palm on each glute—and started bouncing the heavy meat and kneading the muscle and pulling the two huge bubbles of his butt apart, revealing that tight, perfect, pink pucker that each of us had experienced for hours.

Ned started laughing and then Moze said, “God damn it, Ned, you have to learn to keep a straight face.”

“Nothing else about me is straight, why should my face be?”

Hoppy’s prominent brow arched and his lips pursed. “So… it’s not too big?”

I reached up and slapped it. Hard. “It’s like baby bear’s bed in Goldilocks.” I told him.

“Not too hard, and not too soft,” Hoppy said, grinning. Then he wagged that phat ass at us and we all catcalled and wolf whistled with equal vehemence. “You’re too kind,” he said, bowing low and giving us all a rather detailed and up-close look at his delicious and hungry hole.

“God damn it,” Ned said, staring at Hoppy’s asshole, “and now I’m horny again.”

“Food’s on its way,” I reminded everyone, “and do we all remember what happened the last time we indulged ourselves in a little innocent naked fun time so close to a meal?”

“We made Gio come in his pants and drop half the food onto the carpet,” Ned answered.

“It was rhetorical,” I said. “But… yeah, that happened.”

“What if just Ned and I were to…?” Hoppy started asking, his cock already showing renewed signs of interest in another round of fucking. The broadcast that connected us grew stronger and more like arousal than contentedness, a sensation of stimulation in steadily throbbing tingles that touched my nipples, cock, and butt hole with equal facility. Hoppy was turning up the heat.

“Are you more horny than hungry, or more hungry than horny?”

“Can my answer be ‘both’?” Ned asked.

“No it cannot.”

He looked at Hoppy’s swelling sex organ and sighed dramatically. “Okaaaaay,” he half-whined, obviously wanting the best of both worlds. The hopping network also cooled down back to a slow simmer.

“Look at it this way; when Gio comes back the chances are that he’ll want to join in on the fun, which I think we can all agree would be a good thing. Plus, I invited someone named Carver?” I started, looking at Ned.

“Ooh, Carver? Hmm.”

“Something amiss about Mr. Carver?”

“Not particularly, but if you thought I was a Bossy Bottom, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“I’m sure his ass is just average,” Moze assured his boyfriend. “Nothing to be jealous about.”

“Oh, no, Carver has an amazing ass. First rate. I was referring more to the Bossy part than the Bottom part.” Ned shifted his gaze back to me. “He can be very… vocal. Oh! Also, you might not know it from looking at him but he is seriously into leather.” See? The fuckdar is never wrong! “Goes to Chicago every year for IML, makes pilgrimages to San Francisco for Folsom, the whole nine yards. Of leather.”

“IML?” Hoppy asked.

Ned started to answer, but Moze jumped in first. “International Mr. Leather. Annual event in Chicago. Bunch of hot, hairy, swarthy brothers in tight black leather with plenty of hot sex in..” We were all staring at him. “What? A guy owns one harness and a set of chaps and a leather jockstrap and a pair of chained motorcycle boots and he gets judged, is that it?”

“That explains the jacket,” I observed.

Moze grinned. “For what it’s worth I look fucking hot in that harness and those chaps, with or without the denim underneath.”

“Are they assless?” Hoppy asked.

Moze and I answered at the same time using the exact same words. “Technically, all chaps are assless.” Then we looked at each other and started laughing. “I… dabble,” I said.

“I bet you do,” Moze answered, his dark gaze wandering over my tight, muscular body in a new light.

“Oh, fuck, can you imagine Hoppy in a harness with that fucking furry chest and those fucking chewable nips and that fucking eight-pack?” Ned was practically drooling. He looked at Moze and said, “You have got to go home and get that harness.”

“Now?”

“Fuck yes, now! I want to watch Carver spontaneously ejaculate when our horny hirsute pal Hoppy walks in the room wearing a fucking leather harness and stroking his drooling monster ready to play! Dude is going to lose his shit right there on the cum-soaked carpet!”

“But… then I have to put my clothes back on. I’m sort of getting used to… not.”

“Oh, believe me,” Ned agreed, “I am all for you wandering the world in the all-together but for the sake of curiosity and Carver’s dick, I’m begging you, please go get your harness and, like, any other, sort of, you know, leathery fetishy things you might have just laying about.”

“Well, tell you what if I go get my supplies, you have to go get Clifford.”

“Who’s Clifford?” I asked.

“That’s my big red dildo. Clifford.”

“You named your dildo?”

“I name all my dildos! What do I look like, a barbarian?”

“It also makes it easier for us home viewers to make requests when we push some tokens at him,” Moze explained. “Easier to type ‘fuck Gumby’ than ‘fuck the green bendy dildo with the suction cup and massive balls.’”

“I suppose that’s logical.”

“Very,” Moze said. “Especially when one considers the absolutely massive number of dildos in Ned’s collection.”

“27 dildos is not massive.”

“Well, impressive, then.”

I looked at Ned quizzically. “You own 27 dildos?” He nodded, looking a bit proud. “Is there… that much of a difference that you need 27 dildos?”

“How many pairs of sneakers do you own?” Ned asked.

On reflection, I decided not to press the point. Look, some guys love watches. Some guys love cars. I love trainers. But I did ask, “What makes you say that?” He pointed to the limited edition Adidas x Wales Bonner sneakers sitting besides my discarded clothing. “Oh,” I answered. “Good eye.”

“Takes one aficionado to know one,” he replied.

Moze and Ned started to put their clothes back on to prepare for their little jaunt, while Hoppy came over and started massaging my shoulders. “You look tense,” he said.

“You smell good,” I replied.

“What should the two of us do while these young gentlemen are out gathering supplies?”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, knowing exactly what he had in mind.

But, after all, we were all covered in spunk again anyway, so what harm could come from one grown man and one still-growing man having a long, luxurious, lingering, naked Hoyt shower together? I soap your back, you soap mine!

But of course with Hoppy, nothing naked ever happens without getting his magic vibrating dick involved in some capacity. And who was I to refuse his simple request to “fuck your brains out”? Of course it didn’t dawn on me that he could literally do that if he put his mind and body to it. My brains were scrambled by his sex signals and once he started applying a little Hop here and there, I was a goner.

My back was pushed against the shower tiles with my legs wrapped around Hoppy’s torso as his fat cock slid in and out of my gaping hole, throbbing and vibrating like one of Ned’s larger dildos, and I kissed his mouth and moaned and sighed and hung onto his thickly muscled body for dear life when the food arrived. Which, of course it would.

I was in a hazy, sex-blissed state and couldn’t form a cohesive sentence if I was on fire and needed someone to put me out—come to think of it, I kind of was on fire but I certainly didn’t want anyone dousing the flames of absolute erotic bliss I was experiencing—so Hoppy turned his head and shouted, “Come in please, we’re a bit occupied at the moment!” Then he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me so passionately that it felt like I was going to pass out from perfect ecstasy.

“Room service!” we heard. Hoppy pulled his mouth from mine again—and I hung my forehead against his massive deltoid and rode him like the wild, untamed stallion he was—and said loudly, “Please set it down anywhere!”

There was then a long silence, except for the water and my groans and Hoppy’s occasional deeply satisfied growl of “Fuck yeah” and then Hoppy and I noticed Gio standing in the doorway watching us fuck with the bill in his hand and his mouth hanging open.

We never stopped fucking during the entire next conversation. Just wanted to note that.

“Hello, Gio,” Hoppy said politely.

“Hello,” Gio replied.

Hoppy shoved his vibrating prick deep inside me. “Was there something you needed?”

“The… uh….”

“The bill?” Hoppy asked, helpfully.

“I need a signature. For the food.”

“My hands are somewhat occupied at the moment,” Hoppy explained, since they were presently holding up my butt so Hoppy could more easily fuck me. “Can you just sign with an X?”

“I’m not supposed to,” Gio replied, unblinking.

“I understand, but I won’t tell if you won’t. It will be our little secret.” I groaned somewhat loudly as Hoppy rubbed his throbbing meat against my prostate. “Hulkster says he’ll keep the secret, too.”

“I’ve never….”

“Never?”

“Never seen anything as fucking sexy as that.”

“This is a walk in the park. You want to see what I can really do?” If I was coherent and not under Hoppy’s sexual spell, that might have raised an alarm bell. I felt Hoppy’s warm breath on my neck, and his soft lips against my ear. “How much do you want?”

“A… all of it,” I said as my body jerked up and down and Hoppy’s thick cock rubbed my prostate. His skin was like silk and his muscles were thick and hard and his strength was unlimited, holding me up as he fucked me as if I weighed nothing.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, huskily.

“Yes,” I answered.

Hoppy stopped fucking my ass and I could feel another sensation, something deeper and stronger, something powerfully arousing and overwhelmingly stimulating. It felt at first like an electric shock, a sudden hard shift that felt weird and dangerous, but that was just the switch being turned on, or like the fuse being fitted into its socket.

And then I was in heaven.

I was drowning in pleasure. Everything felt good. I was coming fat gushes of cream from my three-ton cock. I owned balls as large as beach balls, inflating larger with cum. My butt hole was throbbing with vibrations of pure sexual power. My nipples were hard-wired to my dick and ass and everything was quickly and suddenly pulsating with absolute erotic rapture.

I presume from Gio’s point of view it looked like I was having a seizure or experiencing profound pain or something, because people in the throes of ecstasy never look as good as they feel. The body simply can’t keep up with the pleasure the brain is experiencing, and my brain at the moment was hooked directly in to Hoppy’s nervous system, and it was unleashed and without any boundaries at all.

I felt, simultaneously, every sexual pleasure a man can experience. And then those were all turned up to 11. Or 12. Or 100. Whatever scale I previously attached to my ability to achieve a sensation orgasm was quickly obliterated and replaced by something I couldn’t have even imagined before.

Hoppy’s lips at my ear, Hoppy’s voice in my head. “It’s happening.”

We were in a sexual loop overload. He was pouring his hyper-potent sexual energy into my body and I was pouring it back into his. It felt like being on a sex treadmill that was going faster and faster and faster. And as I held onto him with my arms and legs wrapped around his body and his massive cock shoved inside me and vibrating like a struck bell, pumping torrents of cum inside me from his heavy, powerful balls, I could feel him slowly, steadily begin to swell larger.

As his new physical evolution initiated, the sensation of sexual bliss he was broadcasting into me was joined by a feeling of power, of strength, of pure muscle. It was like the feeling you get from a great pump at the gym, or the sensation of your muscles singing with mighty potency when attempting something strenuous. I was feeling Hoppy grow as if I was growing as well, experiencing Hoppy’s muscular development like my own body was experiencing this amazing swelling of brawn.

I started coming, too. My body was involved in an intensively gorgeous expansion of muscular size and power, while also feeling Hoppy’s overwhelming orgasmic release as he was experiencing it by fucking my ass, as well as my own sudden and irresistible drive to pump my own copious load from my swollen and aching balls.

Was I growing? It felt as if I were. I could feel my arms swelling, and my legs, and abs, and pectorals. My deltoids and lats and glutes. Every muscle was experiencing a constant throbbing sensation of power and size.

This is what Hoppy’s body experienced every time he grew? Holy fuck!

Hoppy was sighing and groaning and coming, pumping his hot sticky seed inside me and slowly, constantly swelling larger with muscle and cock. And I could feel what he was feeling—not his emotional feelings but what he was physically feeling—and it felt amazing. Not like the pure sexual pleasure of his cock exploding, but more a sense of increasing power and size. The emotions of increasing dominance and self-love was all me, and it was like nothing I had ever felt before in such abundance and unstoppable constancy.

He kept coming and he kept growing and I was feeling it all through our connection, and I could do little more than gasp and swoon and come myself, pumping whatever I had in my balls all over Hoppy’s massive chest, growing denser with muscle and wider with size.

“I love you,” he groaned, and he pressed his mouth to mine and we kissed and he grew and we came together, inseparable and intensely connected. Shortly after we began to kiss, I could sense a kind of heat, and I wasn’t sure if it was physical or emotional. I was shortly to learn that it was a bit of both, but definitely the former in Hoppy’s case.

I felt his body trembling. It was like a shiver when one is cold for no discernible reason, or when one is so frightened they lose control.

He was trembling all over, his whole body, and the trembling became shaking. It grew stronger and stronger, like an engine revving, or the sputtering fuse of a bomb about to go off. The kiss grew stronger, too—needier, lustful, hungry. The heat from his body was intense. He held me and fucked me and kissed me and shook like a cocktail until he suddenly pulled his lips from mine, throw back his head, bit his bottom lip, groaned with intense pain or pleasure, I couldn’t tell which, and everything swelled larger in one, sudden, strong, spectacular surge.

Hoppy’s whole body, in a single amazing burst, swelled thicker and taller and stronger, his muscles growing inches larger, swelling up beneath his sweaty, wet, silky skin in fat bulges and powerful cables. Then his frame was catching up, and I felt my back moving up the tiles as his skeleton stretched and he grew two inches taller in an instant, finally breaking the seven-foot barrier.

I could still feel what he felt, and it was like feeling the most powerful orgasm after you’ve been edging for a week and suddenly could not hold it back any longer. It was a massive release of power from his entire body, every millimeter, and then Hoppy wasn’t shaking anymore, and the intense heat of growth dimmed, and he rested his head on my shoulder, this time, breathing deep and hard, his thicker chest pressing against mine.

I was delirious with pleasure and power and I don’t know how long it lasted or when it stopped, but like all things in life Hoppy’s latest evolution came to a stop and his cock—enormously long and incredibly thick—stopped throbbing and exploding with cum inside my ass. I collapsed against his massive body, trying to breathe and regain my senses from Hoppy’s shared onslaught of incredible sex and muscular growth.

“Whoa,” a soft voice said. I laughed in spite of myself, imagining what the two of us looked like during that exchange.

I looked over and Gio was still standing in the doorway looking exactly the same with one exception. At some point he had unzipped his pants, pushed down his underwear, extracted his hard-on and was now holding in his cum-covered hand a slowly receding erection. Splatters of cum spread out before him, attesting to another massive orgasmic release, though certainly nothing compared to what Hoppy had done, of course.

I looked at my lover’s face, meaning to say something humorous, some quip to defuse the situation, but I was left bereft of words when I saw the upgrades to his facial features the latest change had affected.

Was I still in a fuck-fueled dream haze or was what I was looking at really real? He smiled at my probably confused or lustful or awestruck countenance and if I had even a drop of cum left in my balls, I would have shoved it out of me so hard it would penetrate the ceiling and pass through this floor onto the roof of the hotel.

He was a wet dream. He was a sex fantasy. He was….

He was perfect.

“Hi,” he said. Like this was something that happened every day. Which, come to think of it, for him it did.

“Fuck,” I whispered, just staring at him with my dick throbbing.

“We just did, but I’m happy to go for round two.” His massive prick swelled and throbbed inside me. He was still hard.

“You look…”

“I know,” he said, in his deeply sexy voice, “I grew again.”

“Yeah, but….”

“I know, I already outgrew the clothes you just bought for me. Darn it.”

I laughed because even through all of this, he was still Hoppy. It was weird and wonderful. Superman was a thoughtful, kind, intelligent, passionate nerd with a cock like a racehorse and the libido of a dog in heat. “I love you, too,” I finally responded, and kissed his lips again.

Which, it goes without saying, felt wonderful.

“Your dick is still in my ass,” I whispered, between kisses.

“Mm hmm,” he agreed, making his cock pulse and throb. It was definitely bigger.

“It’s going to make sitting down for a meal kind of awkward,” I suggested.

“Mm hmm,” he agreed, vibrating against my prostate sending delirious waves of pleasure through my whole body.

I groaned. “Oh, fuck, that feels good.”

“I know,” he said. “We’re still connected.”

He knew what I was feeling. He could fine tune whatever he was doing to enhance and increase my pleasure, because he could literally feel it, too. Which reminded me, “Does it always feel like that? When you grow?”

“No,” he said, kissing my neck, kissing my shoulder, kissing my lips. “It felt better.” He kissed my cheek. He kissed my neck. He kissed my mouth.

“And you’re still horny?”

“What do you think?” I could feel streams of pre surging from his cock like warm waves inside me. He throbbed and pulsed with desire. Even after coming what I would conservatively estimate to be seventeen gallons of cum, his balls were already working overtime to make more, and his cock was staying hard as steel, and his kisses touched me everywhere his lips could reach.

“Um,” said Gio softly, “I still need a signature.”

This time it was Hoppy who laughed. He lifted my body off his erection. I felt his exit like he was removing a vital part of me that I would miss like a lost limb. My legs wobbled as I tried to stand and he bathed his bigger, more muscular, more beautiful body under the hot wet to wash my cum from his chest hair and cobblestone belly. He wagged his—could it also be two inches larger?—dick under the stream of hot water, stroking himself and sighing, obviously enjoying the highly sensitive nature of his massive, gorgeous hard-on. Then he gestured for me to clean off as he strode towards Gio with his hand out for the pen.

Gio looked scared? Or aroused? Maybe both? It’s weird how some emotions look like other emotions when you’re unsure of the circumstances that produces them on people’s faces. At any rate, with his dick still hanging out of his trousers, he handed the pen to Hoppy who leaned down—he was at least a foot taller than Gio now—who signed the X he asked Gio to apply earlier and handed the pen back.

“Nice cock,” Hoppy observed, standing erect and stroking himself.

“Same,” Gio answered, looking at Hoppy’s monster with a combination of jealousy and desire.

From behind, I watched Hoppy’s ass as he walked and merely stood there, and determined to myself that Hoppy maybe wanted his dick inside my ass forever, but I was definitely tapping that astounding, powerful, awe-inspiring buttocks at my earliest opportunity. I desperately wanted to shove my face between those perfect, bubblicious globes and lick the fuck out of his tight, pink hole immediately, tasting his funky, delicious, masculine tang on my tongue and making him squirm and squeal like a pig in mud.

Assuming, of course, that my balls ever recovered from what just happened.


Hoppy was famished, as one might expect after swelling with fresh pounds of brawn and growing two inches taller and I’m not sure how much wider or bigger everywhere else. His dick finally did manage to grow limp, though it was only slightly less impressive at something like ten inches in length and probably eight inches in girth. Hefty, in other words. When Ned got back, he was going to be insta-erect when he saw Hoppy’s new, improved cock.

I actually asked Hoppy to dress in the stretchy superhero outfit because looking at him naked, at his muscles flexing and bulging, at all that soft, warm fur on his broad, impossibly huge chest, and the way his abs grew and receded as his torso pivoted or stretched was keeping my man-loving libido on edge. I hoped that the black material covering up all his hirsute gorgeousness might help me lose my erection and the constant state of arousal I was experiencing in Hoppy’s presence.

He insisted we were no longer connected by Hoppy’s proactive nervous system but I swear I could feel that familiar and seductive heat pouring off him. Maybe his sex waves and the Hopping had grown stronger, too, and now he was on constant simmer instead of turning it off.

When Ned and Moze got back soon after we finished eating, as predicted Ned’s dick nearly tore a hole through his jeans when he saw the massive, lengthy, meaty, heavy, dick-shaped bulge in Hoppy’s tights. I was almost certain he would spontaneously cream when he saw Hoppy’s face, and then when Hoppy smiled and blushed when Ned complimented him, Ned almost exploded on the spot.

Moze’s eyes went very wide and he whistled low looking at Hoppy’s more massive musculature, wanting immediately to take some measurements—he had thoughtfully brought his muscle measuring tape along with the leather items, including some interesting insertable surprises—which Hoppy was more than happy to provide.

Personally, I didn’t think measurements were important, but Hoppy insisted that “coupling the measurements after a growth session along with data recording the precipitating actions or influences, physical and emotional” that made him evolve would help him gain better control over these changes, but I was dubious about that, too.

After all, there wasn’t some artificial or outside influence causing these developments, it was what he was feeling or experiencing. How does one control what one feels? I think when you try to do that, no one ends up happy.

Admittedly, I had now seen him grow larger at least four time in the space of a day and a half, and each growth session appeared to be more powerful than the last one. If he kept this up, how big would he be in a week? Or a month? Or next year? What were the limits of his evolutionary abilities?

Were there any? What was it he’d said yesterday after confessing that he had no control over his growth? “Once the floodgates are opened, a flood is the next natural occurrence.”

This was all unexplored territory. Trying to instill normal human limits or measurements on Hoppy wouldn’t work anymore, because he was clearly moving beyond mere human limitations. At the same time, I remembered what he told Gio just before he started shaking and exploding with muscle and cock in the shower and before he asked me how much I wanted of him.

“You want to see what I can really do?”

Was that an empty boast at the time, like what someone doing a layup in basketball before they muff the shot entirely would say? Just a bit of swagger to blow his own horn, as if it needed blowing. Or had he been holding back the whole time, and only my words had unlocked his immediate potential?

The first thing Hoppy insisted on doing, as his analytical mind somehow managed to overcome his carnal monkey brain, was to get the newest measurements of his growing body. Moze was more than happy—ecstatic might be an apt word—to do those duties, and since he was a muscle measuring expert, Ned and I sat back to watch the fun.

As Moze began applying the tape to Hoppy’s various parts, I pulled out my phone to get an idea of how big is big, bodybuilder-wise, which seemed to be the most apt comparison to his superhuman dimensions. He clearly looked like a bodybuilder to me, with that huge chest and those wide, mountainous shoulders and the fat biceps and triceps mounted on his arms. His legs were no slouch either, but I doubted I was going to find a bodybuilder who owned a dick half as hefty as our friend, so I went elsewhere for that.

First, I looked up Arnold Schwarzenegger’s measurements at his largest, figuring without any data at all that he was probably the GOAT of bodybuilders. So here’s how big Arnie was during his Mr. Olympia hey-day:

Height: 6’ 2”
Weight: 260 lbs
Chest: 57”
Arms: 22”
Legs: 29”
Waist: 33”

But apparently, Mr. Schwarzenegger doesn’t even make the top ten biggest bodybuilders of all time. What Arnold had was aesthetics and balance, which from a competitive point of view makes him a better bodybuilder, but not the biggest. That title, with some debate naturally, goes to Greg Kovacs, who’s also believed to be the strongest bodybuilder ever. Here’s what Greg looked like this at the height of his career:

Height: 6’ 4”
Weight: 330 lbs
Chest: 70”
Arms: 27”
Legs: 35”
Waist: 50”

We already knew that Hoppy was taller than either of those men, so he had a (literally) growing advantage on them, and on pretty much anyone else in the world, probably. I had been estimating his measurements but like pretty much everything in my life, my eyes were bigger than the truth. So here was where Hoppy stood at that moment:

Height: 6’ 10.25” (Hoppy insisted on accuracy)
Weight: Unknown (there was no scale in the penthouse, naturally)
Chest: 78.5”
Arms: 31.5”
Legs: 44.75”
Waist: 38” (!!!! I had Moze measure this one twice, because my waist was 34” and I found it nearly impossible to believe that Hoppy had only four inches on me, even though he was over a foot taller. His abs alone had to be two inches thick!)

And, last but not least, two unofficial measurements:

Glutes (Butt): 46” (I’m pretty sure Hoppy was still worried about this particular measurement, since his eyebrows knit together when Moze read this out loud (but, personally? The man had A PERFECT BUTT. In all caps! A PERFECT BUTT! It was certainly huge, but you could bounce a quarter off the fucking thing.))

Cock: 8.75” flaccid, 12.5” erect.

Hoppy fed his latest measurements into his spreadsheet or database or whatever he was using to track his physical development so he could chart his existing growth rate and estimate his potential growth rate based on these new dimensions. He said it was “accelerating” but he didn’t know what that meant for future potential simply because there was no other data available. No one had ever growth this quickly and this large, let alone in the amount of time that Hoppy had been growing.

He said he took his final preparation almost a year ago, and that his growth rate had been on an upwards trajectory since then, but now his gains, which were “likely due to being more completely stimulated” were skyrocketing. He’d gained two full inches in height and an inch to his arms in only a day.

But all my questions and concerns disappeared when Moze insisted that Hoppy try on some of his leather gear and the reaction we all had when we saw the result.

Now, confidentially, I normally find all these fetish clothing things kind of silly. Latex, leather, vinyl, rubber. I mean, why toy with what God gave you? Naked is the sexiest state of a man, and all the clothing does is hide all the goodies.

But.

Hoppy dressed in the bedroom after Ned insisted that he should surprise us. Moze had to explain some of the more… complicated pieces he’d brought with him, some of which involved a good many buckles, and others of which required being laced into them. Hoppy, being the intelligent and mindful person he is, nodded and asked a few questions and then retreated to pour his huge frame into the tight black leather garments. He did call for Moze at one point to help him into something, and when Moze came back from the bedroom, the smile on his face and the hard-on in his jeans spoke volumes.

Who finally reemerged after twenty torturous minutes of waiting was someone that even Tom of Finland could never have imagined in his sweatiest, most fevered homosexual fantasies.

If ever there were two things that were meant for each other, it was Hoppy and leather fetish gear. The pants alone—though Moze did bring his chaps he said these were his favorite pair—looked painted on. They hung extremely low on his hips, exposing a Hoppy’s hairy bush rather ornately, and gripped onto Hoppy’s gorgeous ass like a second skin. The back and sides were laced up, and because Hoppy’s glutes were now more copious and massive than even Moze’s, the back laces exposed a good deal of Hoppy’s ass crack. The sides were equally willing to show off inches-wide openings along the length of his muscled legs, and the leather pouch that tried with some obvious difficulty to hold in his thick inches and hen’s egg balls only accentuated the size and heft of all the meat hanging from Hoppy’s loins.

This wasn’t a bulge, it was a mountain. A mouth-watering, dick-hardening, nipple-sizzling, butthole-buzzing mountain.

The harness again accentuated Hoppy’s incredible muscles and perfect definition. If anything, it made his massive chest look even bigger! And those nipples! My god, people, those nipples!

“Well?” he asked, modeling for us with an awkward, somewhat embarrassed pivot. I’m pretty sure we all gay gasped when his ass and that suggestive peek at his deep crack came fully into view.

“Carver is gonna shit a brick,” Moze observed.

“No, Carver is gonna push a gallon of cum out of his balls and faint from the power of his orgasm,” Ned corrected.

“So… I look okay?”

“Fuck,” Ned said, succinctly.

Hoppy looked at me but I was too busy rubbing my fresh boner to think up something pithy to say. The man looked like pure sex. He looked like he would fuck me into next week and I’d be begging for more.

“Oh,” he said, smiling, “forgot to mention. This part comes off.”

He set his fingers to the edges of the codpiece holding in his equipment and unsnapped it from its mooring, allowing his 10-inch long, 9-inch thick cock to spill out. He had to dig in to pull his fat balls free, but then he was standing there in those lace-up pants and that silver buckled black harness with his cock in full view and I think I maybe whined like a baby who needs his bottle.

“There,” he said, “that feels so much better.”

“Holy,” said Ned.

“Fuck,” said Moze.

“Thank you,” Hoppy answered. “I tried to fit my feet into those boots, Moze, but I think they’re a tad too small.”

“Too small? Those are size 14!”

“Too small,” he repeated.

I was still speechless, until I noticed that Hoppy’s dick was, as usual, drooling pre and I held out my hand, silently beseeching Hoppy for his codpiece. His brow furrowed curiously until I took it and held it to my face, sucking in its sexy scent deeply and groaning with delight. It smelled like Hoppy, like Hoppy’s sex scent, and it smelled like leather, and it was still warm from holding his dick. And I wondered if I could just strap it on like a feedbag and allow this redolent scent of leather and cock and balls and cum to linger in my nostrils all fucking day long.

“Oh my god,” Ned said. “That’s genius. Gimme a hit of that.”

“You could just… sniff my crotch,” Hoppy observed, hefting his dick in his grip and pointing its drooling head at Ned.

“Sure—and I will—but that’s like a pocket Hoppy I can carry around with me and take a hit of your sex stank whenever I need it. Plus, it’s like a concentrated dose of Hoppy inside a leather codpiece and that really…” Ned growled like a V-8.

“Well, except that it’s a bespoke pair of pants and I kind of need the codpiece back,” Moze noted.

“Spoilsport,” Ned said.

“You have a leather tailor?” I asked, intrigued with what such a person could do on a body Like Hoppy’s.

“She’s a leatherworker, but yes, and she’s really fucking good. I mean…” Moze went to the duffle he’d carried in, fished around a bit, and produced something that I would describe as a black leather square-cut with red racing stripes on the side, a lace-up crotch like a pair of football pants, and an inserted butt plug sleeve.

“The fuck?” Ned asked.

Moze grinned. “I wanted something to wear that allowed my butt to experience a little fun while I wandered around Folsom. So I just stick a bullet,” he explained, pausing to look at Hoppy, “which is a small powered vibrator, inside this sleeve. The outside is normal leather, but this is lambskin. Stretchier, softer, and it feels like a cock in my ass. Plus I can wear it without any buttplug bulge so on one knows what’s happening. I wear this under my jeans sometimes.”

“Holy hell,” Ned remarked, impressed.

“Very creative,” Hoppy said.

“I don’t share these because, you know, they go inside my butt. But I wanted to show off a little. But! Don’t be too disappointed, because I also brought…” He dug around a bit more and then he had what looked like a normal black leather vest. “I call this The Tweaker. Another of my own designs.”

Ned observed, “Shit, dude, why don’t you start making these for other people? Seems like there’d be a market for pants that fuck your ass all day long.”

“What does The Tweaker do?”

Moze turned the vest inside-out and there were two round, I guess, rubbery looking patches sewn into the leather exactly where someone’s nipples would be. The patches had dozens of small nubs about a-quarter of an inch long that, it wasn’t hard to imagine, would continuously rub and stimulate the nipples of anyone wearing it with every movement. Whoever wore it would end up experiencing near-constant nipple arousal, assuming it worked as designed.

It probably helped that Moze possessed a pair of very prominent nipples.

“Whoa,” I said. “That is also brilliant.”

Moze shrugged. “Seems pretty obvious to me.”

“You’re like a leather fetish genius. What else did you pack in that magic goody bag besides buttplug shorts and a nipple vest?”

He started to reach inside when there was a knock at the penthouse door. As I was naked and Hoppy was as good as, I asked Ned to see who it was. He returned accompanied by an older gentleman with snow white hair, a matching beard and mustaches, wearing a very smart navy blue three-piece suit and what looked to my shoe-loving eyes to be a pair of Tom Ford patent leather dress shoes.

Now, if I thought Carver was a man who couldn’t be flustered, imagine my shock when this fellow walked in on these four men—me, completely naked and sporting a hell of a throbbing erection, Ned with a sack full of dildos, Moze holding a pair of butt-fucking shorts in one hand and a nipple-teasing vest in the other, and of course Hoppy with his dick hanging out of the crotch of a pair of lace-up leather pants and a harness on his massively muscled torso—takes a quick look around, immediately sizes up (heh) the situation and says to Hoppy, “I assume you’re the gentlemen with the emergency wardrobe needs?”

“I wouldn’t call it an emergency,” I said. “After all, he is wearing pants.”

“If I’m not mistaken,” our new guest said, “those were designed by Heidi?”

Moze smiled. “Yes! Whoa! How did you know?”

“The world of tailoring is much smaller than you probably imagine. Everything is off the rack these days. So when there are two of similar minds about the proper way to dress someone, those minds tend to congregate.”

“Holy shit, this is awesome!” Moze looked genuinely pleased. “You’re Mack Daniels!”

“McDaniels,” he corrected. “One name, not two.”

Moze looked at Hoppy and me. “This is the brother that Heidi said could handle my suit needs, seeing as how buying off the rack isn’t exactly within the dimensions of a body like mine. And I looked into it but, holy Jesus, his suits don’t come cheap.”

“No, sir. My suits are not inexpensive, but they are guaranteed for life and I will make any alterations or repairs for as long as I’m breathing air.” He looked at Hoppy appraisingly. “You’re rather large,” he summarized.

Hoppy looked down at himself, looked back up, and nodded. “So it would seem.”

McDaniels took another measuring tape from his breast pocket and unfurled it dramatically. “May I take some measurements?”

“We just did!” Ned announced.

“I’d like to perform my own, if you don’t mind. I like to be accurate.” Oh, yeah, this dude and Hoppy were going to get on like a house on fire.

And I was also feeling a bit less anxious about the wider world’s reaction to my boyfriend. I didn’t want him treated like a freak, and Mickey D—maybe a test case on how people might react to an encounter with the world’s most impressive specimen of human male pulchritude—seemed to take his enormity and muscular development in stride. Surely no one else on Earth looked like Hoppy did, from his handsome face to his long, wavy hair to his massive furry chest and that huge, perfect butt, he was every inch the image of the most perfect man anyone had ever seen. The tailor hardly even blinked at Hoppy’s enormous cock hanging out of his pants.

Hoppy escorted the tailor into the bedroom so he could take some measurements in private, while I was given a more thorough tour of the clothing and toys that Moze and Ned brought back.

Ned truly had a head-spinning assortment of insertable toys, some of which would vibrate in patterns based on a Bluetooth app. He showed me a couple of his favorites and admitted that sometimes he even doubled up on the vibrating toys to really get his motor running. “It feels amazing,” he explained, obviously gifted with a very sensitive prostate that immensely enjoyed being played with. He said he’s spontaneously come just from having his butt buzzed.

Hoppy and the tailor returned shortly and McDaniel was on his phone, talking with someone at his shop and he just kept saying , “No, bigger. No, bigger.” while eyeing my boyfriend’s hugeness. “I have some things that might fit, but I’ll need to take them in and let them out for a perfect fit, if you gentlemen have some time?”

“Are we talking hours or days?” I asked.

“That depends on whether you’re wiling to pay extra to move up in the queue.”

“We’re attending a school reunion tonight,” Hoppy explained, “and I’d rather not turn up completely naked. Cost is no object.”

“Wait, we’re actually going?”

Hoppy smiled. “I kind of want to see the reaction from certain people when you show up with me on your arm. And I definitely want to make out with you on the dance floor.”

“Oh, fuck,” I said, imagining that body shaking its butt. My dick throbbed and I think I might have licked my lips.

“You don’t want to dance with me?”

“I’m just afraid I’ll spontaneously cream my jeans when I watch you moving your butt to the beat.”

He smiled evilly. “Did you… want a preview?”

“I vote yes!” Ned almost shouted.

“I’d be up for a little striptease, if that’s what you had in mind,” Moze added.

“I’ve never done that,” Hoppy admitted, which was hardly surprising considering he was a geneticist and not a stripper. “Plus, something tells me a male stripper at the reunion isn’t going to go over very well.”

“It’s a career choice as valid as any other,” Ned said. “Sex workers get a bad rap.”

“Agreed,” I agreed. “Did you want some practice?”

I looked at Hoppy who looked suddenly embarrassed and a bit scared. “You mean… now?”

“No time like the present!” Moze and Ned were already moving the furniture aside while McDaniel was making notes on an iPad and drawing sketches with a Pencil, making me wonder just what he had in mind for my boyfriend’s godlike body.

The tailor laughed softly. “I sent your measurements to my assistant and he wants me to share a photo of you, if you don’t mind? I don’t think he quite believes those numbers.”

“Share away,” Hoppy happily said. “I have nothing to hide.”

“No, indeed.” The tailor sent along one of the photos I assume he had taken of Hoppy.

Shortly, a space had been cleared in the main room of the penthouse and Ned was pulling up some appropriate stripping music, which in this case was Pony by Ginuwine, which I considered somewhat obvious but in retrospect was an excellent choice.

Moze started things off, doing some radical and sensuous moves with his hips, grinding his body closer to the floor until he was bent over backwards with one hand on the carpet as he thrust his ample package to the slow beat, making his abs flex and bulge. Hoppy was visibly excited by Moze’s moves but obviously hesitant to start his own striptease.

“So, you, sort of… thrust? A lot?”

“Let your body tell you what to do,” Moze advised, reaching down with his free hand to stroke and fondle his mighty bulge. He was an excellent dancer, using his body and his muscles with expert finesse to drill directly to a gay man’s libido.

The song ground on and Hoppy started moving his hips and wagging his big dick at us. Ned whooped to cheer him on and I was watching with interest and amusement thinking how far this demonstration deviated from the small, shy Hoppy I grew up knowing.

This also highlighted that although Hoppy was magnificent at sex, he was still a little wobbly just inhabiting this huge, muscular body. He was so much larger than he was used to being that he was having trouble judging exactly how large he was now. Even though the furniture was moved aside, he kept nudging lamps or tripping over a chair because every movement now took him farther than he was used to. It was like trying to drive a very large truck if all you’re used to driving is a subcompact. Consequently, his first striptease was a bit awkward and comical. It was refreshing to see this perfect male specimen behave so imperfectly, and to watch that intensely handsome face screw itself into expressions of frustration and annoyance.

I suppressed my laughter because he was trying so hard to be sexy, but was succeeding only at being self-conscious and uneasy. Everything else seemed to come so easily for him, but when it came to relaxing and being a towering, muscular pillar of erotic lust on purpose, he had no idea what to do.

Until Moze literally took him by the hand, stood him in the center of the room, placed his hands on Hoppy’s hips and made him close his eyes and “feel the music.”

Keep in mind that Hoppy was still wearing the laced leather pants and the harness. The harness design, I don’t think I mentioned, was a single silver ring at the center of his chest with four straps heading over and under his pecs, framing those massive globes of muscle and making his nipples point forward. The upper straps went over his broad shoulders and the lower went under his arms where they met again on his broad, muscled back, accentuating the ridiculous taper of his torso from that thin waist to the thick muscular wings of his lats.

His dick was wagging like the heavy hunk of meat it was as he slowly got into the song and started to feel it in his body and not think about it so much. Moze said, “listen to the lyrics, this shit is nasty.”

Just once if I have the chance
The things I would do to you
You and your body, every single portion
Send chills up and down your spine
Juices flowing down your thigh

Hoppy’s smile was positively obscene. The thigh line made him literally groan. Something switched on his filthy mind instead of his practical one, and he started to grind and swerve and flex. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking directly at me and I swear I could feel a sudden hard thrust of arousal explode inside me and zero in on my dick, which Moze’s dancing had already prepped for combat.

Did he Hop into me or was it simply that his gaze was so intensely sexy and erotic that it felt physical? Did it matter?

The next few minutes—Ned restarted the song when we all realized that something in Hoppy had fallen away and he was suddenly a stripper—were almost uncomfortably pornographic. Hoppy owned a gorgeous body and face and was now using them to full effect, doing his utmost to seduce us with all the tools he had in his heavy duty arsenal. It never even occurred to me that he had never heard the song before, but once he learned its rhythms and words he started moving in time to the beat, and mouthing the filthy promises at us, and swiveling those hips and grinding that pelvis and thrusting that dick like he was born to it.

It suddenly occurred to me that he was releasing copious thick waves of his sex scent and sending out the sensations of what he was feeling to those of us lucky enough to be attuned to his nervous system—as if we weren’t already turned on by him strutting his stuff around in black bondage leather. My body was heating up and my cock was throbbing hard. My mouth was dry and my asshole twitched watching that massive hunk of sex swinging from his loins, drooling pre that stuck to his pants in heavy, drooling droplets.

He swung himself around and shook his ass at us and I nearly spontaneously came. Holy hell, an ass like that did not belong among mere mortals like us, it deserved to be enshrined in the Ass Hall of Fame! And the laced-up crack only accentuated that his hole was right there, anxious and needing my tongue lapping at its sensitive surface. Then he started shaking that heavy mop of soft, dark curls and playing with his nipples and we all watched his meat start to lengthen and thicken and rise.

By now the song was nearing an end and Ned reached to start it over again when I asked him to hand me his phone and I searched Spotify for one of my favorite seduction songs instead: “‘Til The Cops Come Knockin” by Maxwell.

This is a slow burn song, starting out with some crooning before Maxwell gets down and dirty with his significant other. Pony is about fucking, but Cops is about making love. It’s probably not a song a stripper would use, but in the circumstances and judging by Hoppy’s apparent desire to seduce all of us with his ass and cock and muscles, I thought he’d be into it. I had no idea what sort of music Hoppy normally listened to—my guess would be either classical or jazz, which is what I assume cerebral people listen to—but even if not it was time to start introducing my boyfriend to more R&B to put that ass and cock and those muscles to good use.

Moze centered his attentions on Ned, gibing him a lap dance, grinding his ass against Ned’s packed crotch, running his hands through his mop of blonde hair, pressing his lips to Ned’s mouth and pretty much taking advantage of the situation by showing off exactly how flexible and strong he was, doing some advanced moves like he was starring in some Magic Mike movie. The fact that Moze could so easily perform the splits, jumping up slightly and landing on the ground with his legs splayed wide made us all groan with desire.

Hoppy was, at first, more tentative, even given that his body was releasing invisible clouds of sex-soaked pheromones and hooking its nervous system into ours. I mean, honestly? With the amount of sex waves he was pumping out all he really had to do was stand there with his dick growing bigger and we’d all be drooling like dogs in heat.

But as the song continued and Maxwell’s entreaties to stay locked in a room with him for days doing nothing but being naked together, Hoppy’s inner slut emerged more fully and we were all witness to man discovering that sex and desire isn’t just physical, it’s something you can show to someone else without ever touching them.

His moves became erotic and lustful and highly charged with sexual hunger and carnal desire. The leather seemed to turn him on now in ways it didn’t before. Moving in that tight second skin, with his monster cock continuously swelling and throbbing in an almost obscene display of wanton raunchy arousal, pushing its fat mushroom head free of its cowl of foreskin, glistening with pre-cum, and the veins along the thick stalk of his dick swelling with blood to inflate the monster to its ultimate size, I’m sure that even the silver-haired tailor was ripping his zipper open to start jerking off to Hoppy’s insane display of raw sexual desire.

What happened next was, I suppose, inevitable. Though I do wish he’d issued a bit more warning before he unleashed himself on me.

Without touching himself, without ever stroking an inch of that massive shank of sex meat throbbing and drooling from his loins, Hoppy started shooting cum all over me. He just grinned and went into a fully-flexed most muscular pose, his shredded and perfect muscles suddenly swelling into full power, and his cock exploded cream in long, fat streams that splattered against my body like he was throwing quarts of warm milk at me.

And the song played on….

I’m open (Wider than oceans), baby
I’ll be your lotion (I’ll be your lotion) on your body
If it’s all right, ooh
Gonna take you in the room, sugar
Lock you up and love for days
We’re gonna be rockin’, baby
‘Til the cops come knockin’
Please you (Oh, oh)
Tease you (Ooh, hoo, hoo)
Eat you
(Make you feel so good, oh baby)
Make you feel so good inside
Loving you long if that’s all right

He simply stood there, his eyes locked on my face, a grin on his full, kissable lips, his incredible and unbelievably huge muscles swollen to their thick and massive ultimate proportions, pressing against his silky skin, with that foot-long, Coke bottle thick cock standing at full power, pumping out stream after fat stream of warm, sticky, sexy cream. Everything else in the room stopped. Everyone stared in wide-eyed shock, wonder, and lust as Hoppy’s prick started to fountain thick, abundant gushes all over my body, bathing me in his wealth of unstoppable, copious cum.

How much cum was Hoppy keeping in those heavy balls of his? A pint? A quart? Did he have access to some unlimited supply?

He kept pushing stream after stream of thick white cream, just standing there flexing while his erect prick, veiny and red and shiny, throbbed hard with every fresh delivery like some kind of cum pump. It was awesome. It was insane.

I felt every fresh delivery like a hot splash of pure sex. I was still wearing clothes and they were being plastered with cum, it was soaking into the material of my shirt and jeans trying to get to my naked flesh.

Hoppy lifted his right arm and flexed the biceps and started licking himself, sticking out that long, talented tongue to bathe his massive muscle in spit. He was moaning and coming, still shooting massive gushing torrents of cream from the mouth of his huge cock as he licked and kissed and worshipped his own muscles. His deep, furry armpit was wet with sweat and now, exposed, his thick and erotic scent was flowing over us like a fog of pure sex.

I was overwhelmed by lust and arousal. No one had ever witnessed anything like this display of raw carnal power, as my boyfriend, nearly seven feet tall, with a foot-long prick and furry chest nearly five feet around was flexing his 31-inch biceps into a fat, hard softball of pure power, kissing and licking its mass as he shot thick volleys of warm, sexy cum from his fat, heavy balls.

I set my fingers to the placket of my shirt and ripped it open, sending cum-coated buttons flying everywhere. I followed up by trying to rip the crotch of my pants apart, but that proved a lot more difficult and I was then trying to unbuckle and unzip with comical speed. Exposing my chest, belly and crotch to Hoppy’s onslaught of cum increased the thick wet heat striking my skin and I pushed my fingers into the wealth of his cream, gathering it on my fingers and shoveling it into my mouth.

It tasted of Hoppy, as if his sex scent had been made into liquid form. It was pure masculine power, thick and warm and salty, and I swallowed it greedily. My groans of sheer erotic bliss summoned Hoppy’s attention from his swollen muscles and he reached down and grabbed his erupting prick in one of his large, powerful hands to aim the streams at my mouth, feeding me from the pure source, while his other hand pinched and tortured his nipples, driving his arousal even higher.

It filled my mouth to overflowing, coating my tongue and teeth with liquid sex, and it was coming faster than I could swallow it. If anything, and even after erupting cum for at least a full minute, Hoppy’s gushing flood grew even stronger and more plentiful, driven perhaps by my obvious desire for its musky masculine taste.

I was never such a cum slave before, usually finding the taste not all that pleasant, but like everything else about my evolving boyfriend, his cum was seductive and addictive, like swallowing great thick gulps of distilled erotic power. I wanted it to fill me beyond capacity, to drink it all down until my belly was bursting with it.

It made my cock feel like it was as big as the fucking Empire State Building, as heavy as a train engine, as thick as the Great Wall of China. It was going to explode like a volcano and push cum to the skies. My balls were two-ton weights swollen with cream, beachball orbs pumping cum like a god damned oil well. It made my nipples sizzle. It made my asshole throb and tingle. It was like drowning under a waterfall of pure unfiltered raw sex.

It was all over me, now, coating my chin and neck and chest, filling my mouth, splattering in thick pools and dripping off my skin. The song ended and still he came, pumping surging volleys of cream all over me, again and again, drowning me in sex.

I was pushing my hands through it as it coated me, feeling its warmth and thickness between my fingers, swallowing as much as I could when I started coming as well. My dick just started erupting, unable to hold back, and now my load was mingling with his all over my belly and chest, and I groaned and sighed and swallowed as Hoppy pumped fat loads against me and my dick, hard as iron, shoved my own pumps of cum.

When at last it stopped—and I’m not even sure why or how it stopped, since it was starting to feel like Hoppy’s eruption was going to last all day long—I was positively swimming in cum. It soaked into my clothes and coated my skin and clung in thick rivulets like warm, sticky, creamy honey.

I heard Ned whisper, “Holy fuck.” And I opened my eyes.

I was a fucking mess. What must this have looked like from their perspective? Hoppy’s seven-foot tall body standing over me, settled into this chair, while he held on to his massive erection and shot fat streams of cum all over my body and into my mouth as he watched, playing with his nipples and flexing his muscles into stark relief.

Now he was standing there with his arms crossed over his massive furry pecs with a grin on his handsome face that almost made me start coming all over again. The mouth of his monster was drooling a long, thick string of cum that dripped to the floor, followed by another white bead that grew to a blob and then started to drool to the floor as well. He was still coming! Now it was just flowing out like a tap that couldn’t be turned off completely. His body was glistening with sweat where it wasn’t clothed in black leather, and his eight-pack abs swelled and receded as he pulled in deep breaths.

I was speechless. I licked my wet lips and tasted his seed still clinging to my mouth. My hands were both absolutely coated in cum—his and mine together—and I looked like an Elmer’s glue factory just exploded all over me.

This penthouse was going to have to be retired by the time we finally left it.

“My god,” I heard someone say, and I turned to look at the tailor who was in a state of shock. Because of course he was! Who would have been prepared for what just happened?

“That felt good,” Hoppy said, simply. Then he rubbed his thumb against the mouth of his prick, gathering the final dregs of cum that clung there, lifted the thumb to his mouth and sucked his cream off, licking his lips and grinning.

“I’m just impressed you didn’t get any of it on my leathers,” Moze said, and then the tension broke and we all started laughing at the sheer absurdity of it.

Hoppy was evidently a cum machine. I wondered that his balls hadn’t shrunk to raisins, but instead there they were, fat and heavy as ever, hanging low in their fuzzy sack beneath his slowly calming erection like two extra-large hen’s eggs capable of making gallons of cream with effortless ease.

Ned was holding his phone in his hand, evidently deciding that he needed to record what was happening. But I was a creamy cum-covered shambles. It was in my hair and on my skin and soaking into my jeans and socks and shoes. It was literally everywhere. “Jesus,” I said, looking down at my cum-covered torso.

“Sorry,” Hoppy said in his deep, manly voice. “But you seemed to be enjoying it.”

“Did you know you could do that?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“You… just came like a gallon of cum!”

“I doubt it was a gallon,” he said, seriously. “Several pints, maybe. Not a gallon.”

“Oh, so just a quart of cum. Not a gallon.”

“Maybe a quart. That’s just two pints.” Here we were debating the amount of cum he’d just pumped all over me like this was something men normally discuss after sex. “I didn’t know I could do it until I was doing it.”

“Who are you?” It was the tailor, a man I almost forgot was in the room with us.

“Dr. Hopkins? We met earlier in the bedroom when you were measuring me,” he answered politely.

“I… But I mean… Who are you? That you can do that?”

“Oh. I’m a geneticist and bioengineer. I’ve altered my DNA and genetic structure to allow my body to facilitate developing new or better physical traits and capabilities.” He said it just like that, as if everyone does this sort of thing every day. “These developments are generally keyed off of my emotional or physical enjoyment and satisfaction, which might explain the copious abundance of ejaculate and sperm I can now produce and the enhanced or augmented orgasms which result from…”

“He’s like Superman,” Ned said, interrupting, “except with fucking.”

“Superman was an alien,” Hoppy corrected. “I’m 100% human.”

“Also Superman isn’t real,” I pointed out. I tried standing up and sort of staggered, not realizing how powerful my own orgasm had been—it made my legs weak. Either that or there was so much cum coating my body that I weighed a fucking ton. I splattered back into my seat, splashing cum around me before using the arms of the chair to steady myself and regain my feet.

Cum was dripping down my body in slow molasses cascades. I pushed my hands through my hair, draining the cum there down my back and then shook my arms like a wet dog. Strings and drops of Hoppy’s copious load rained down all over the penthouse and everyone sheltered themselves under their arms from the cumstorm I was producing.

Except Hoppy, who merely stood there and allowed me to splatter him with his own cum, smiling and still. Moze kept saying “no, no, no, no, no!” as the cum drops stained his beautiful leather pants, and his voice went up an octave or two when Hoppy started moving towards me, and surrounded me in his strong arms, pressing body against mine, and bent his lips down to mine and kissed my cum-coated face with intense passion, smearing himself—and Moze’s beautiful leather—with the copious sticky mess.

I reached down and grabbed his ass—rather, I reached around him, because his ass was much nearer my hands than any other ass I ever encountered—with my fingers finding their way between the laces and digging deeply into his sweaty crack, rubbing and teasing him until I could penetrate his hot, hungry hole and push inside, feeling him shiver and moan as I started finger fucking him. I felt his glute flex and harden, pressing outwards like a swelling balloon. One of his hands cupped my head, keeping our kiss going, while I felt his other moving down my back, his strong fingers pushing my open jeans off my hips eagerly.

He kneaded my ass with his strong grip and I could feel his dick swelling between us again with arousal.

I knew where this was headed. Again. Hoppy’s unstoppable libido was going to make one of us fuck the other. Either his dick was going to end up in my ass, or my dick in his. The man had just pumped out a literally quart of cum and he was ready to keep going. He’d hopped into me with that unstoppable libido and was pushing all my buttons like a man who needed the elevator doors to close.

I was fuck drunk. My brain wasn’t thinking logically, if it was thinking at all. All I wanted was more. More pleasure, more sex, more cum, more Hoppy. He was a drug that fed my veins with pure bliss. I wanted to taste him, to feel him, to drink him, to fuck him. He was all I wanted, now and forever.

“What does it feel like?” I asked him. “To be you?”

“Amazing,” he answered. “But you know what feels even better than that?” I shook my head, looking into his impossibly gorgeous eyes. “Loving you.”

He pushed his lips against mine and kissed me again. I felt his cock thicken and grow hot and then a wet gushing warmth erupted between our bodies. He was coming again, pumping fresh gouts of cream from his magic balls, shoving the thick load up the inches of his prick and fountaining more cum on my body and his, an expression both of his arousal and his capability.

I pulled my lips from his and whispered, “Cum.”

Another thick load coated us.

“Cum.”

And another, just as warm and substantial.

“Cum.”

Another. He gasped with ecstasy and moaned with satisfaction. His load was boundless and he could come on demand, his own or anyone else’s. He could achieve orgasmic release in an instant, producing another thick, powerful volley of warm, thick, creamy cum over and over and over. I was overwhelmed with the profusion and power of his seemingly endless loads, I felt it dripping down my legs and pooling around my feel in the carpet.

Which was when Ned cleared his throat and said, “Weren’t you two going to attend a reunion or something?”

We both stopped what we were doing, drawn back to reality, even if it was coated in a wealth of sticky, dripping cum. Did reality matter anymore when I had this perfect man in my arms pumping fat rivers of warm cream from his heavy balls?

I was overwhelmed and probably delirious. The combination of everything Hoppy could do now, from the thick cloud of invisible sex his pheromones produced to the magnetic connection he could form with me to the size and power of his perfectly developed muscles to the enormity and capacity of his cock and balls to the near godlike beauty of his face, there was nothing I could do to withstand him, and do whatever he wanted.

“Should we?” He asked. Even his voice was charged with sex. Two words uttered from those soft, warm, kissable lips and a slight toothy grin and I felt my body shake with spasms of lust and need.

“Is he all right?” someone asked. I think it was the tailor.

“Hard to tell,” someone answered. “Hulkster? Are you all right?”

I was staring at Hoppy’s incredibly gorgeous face and he echoed the question to me. “Are you all right, my love?”

I swallowed dryly and licked my lips, tasting Hoppy’s sweet, salty spunk. “I….”

He hugged me tighter, causing a wet tide of his cum to squish itself between our bodies. Was he still coming? Would he ever stop?

But he seemed at last to realize my predicament. I wasn’t all right. I was lost. Lost inside some perfect sexual experience and no one was even fucking me. My body was being radiated with Hoppy’s intense and powerful waves of physical pulses. My senses were overwhelmed by his heady, musky, masculine sex scent. His muscles, swollen with strength, had as iron, covered with skin as soft and warm as velvet, pressed against my everywhere.

“I think I need to sit down,” I finally managed to say, barely squeaking the words out of my cum-soaked mouth.

Hoppy bent and picked up, as easily as someone might lift a large pillow, and cradled me against him in his arms. I rested my head against his massive pecs, warm and furry, feeling him breathe, and he took me into the bedroom and laid me on the broken bed.

“Is he okay?” Ned asked. “Because that was… something else.”

I was so tired. My body wasn’t used to this. My engine was overheated. My libido was pushed into the red and beyond, and I was still feeling Hoppy inside me, still feeling waves of sex emanating from his massive frame, still sucking in deep, satisfying breaths of his sensual and sexual aroma. He was a physical throbbing form of sex just standing there, and I shook and sighed with pleasure.

“Maybe we should call a doctor,” Moze said, concern evident in his voice. “I mean, no offense, Hoppy, but I think you may have broken him.”

My eyes were closed but I could sense something change in Hoppy. I could feel the tentacles of sex withdrawing from me. I could feel the sensation of erotic bliss lessen bit by bit, and then I was no longer feeling my lover inside me, inside my head, inside my soul, sending his potent sexuality into me, unplugging my cord from his socket.

No longer tethered, my body responded by passing out.


When I came to, someone was rubbing my naked body. I was back in the enormous shower being washed of all the cum that had been coating my skin and sticking to my hair. Ned was with me, and I heard him say, “He’s moving!” And I opened my eyes.

“Fuck, dude, are you okay?”

“I think so,” I answered a bit dumbfounded. All I felt now was warm and wet, and a bit tingly where Ned used something to scrub my skin. The nozzle was aimed at my chest and crotch so my face wasn’t being drowned, and Ned was naked like me.

He leaned in close and reported, “Hoppy’s freaked out. Like, majorly. I think you scared him.”

“Where is he?”

“Other room. He got dressed and pulled out his laptop and started typing and whispering some scientific shit and he’s been hunched over that computer ever since. He keeps peeking his head around the corner to check on you, but other than that….”

“What happened?” I had only a vague recollection of things now, remembering Hoppy’s endless fountains of cum and then feeling sort of like I was sinking inside pure sexual bliss and then nothing after that. My cock twitched even with the memory of the experience.

“You passed out, dude. Like, you and the Hopster were making out, and his dick was, like, shooting so much cream it looked like a fucking McDonald’s shake machine, and your body started shaking and your face went all,” he mimicked what I guess I looked like, which was slack-jawed and dazed, which seemed right given the circumstances, “and then you were, like, moaning in bed with an award-winning stiffy that just would not deflate until some kind-hearted soul with Olympic gold medal dick-sucking mastery,” he thrust his two thumbs at himself, “went down on you until you came a pretty decent amount of cream, I must say.”

“Thank? You?”

He nodded and gave me a happy thumb’s up. “Then you were kind of motionless. Then Hoppy brought you in here because we thought you probably shouldn’t be so, like, comatose.”

“Fuck,” I said. “Help me up?”

He did so, lifting me to a shaky stance but I could feel strength returning quickly. I reached for a towel to dry off my body as Ned turned off the shower’s flow. Then we walked naked—which seemed to be the safest state of being lately—back into the miraculously and not at all musty-smelling living room. How long had I been out that allowed someone to come in here and erase all physical evidence of Hoppy’s cum plastering? The most likely excuse was another of Ned’s miraculous hotel saves. After all, they probably had to deal with more cum stains on an average day than any strip bar within 100 miles.

Moze got up and looked at Ned looking sort of scared—which scared me—but Ned’s look seemed to comfort him. The tailor was gone, and I wondered what sort of tales he was likely to tell to anyone willing to believe him.

Hoppy was sitting, dressed in some unusually normal clothing, namely a long-sleeved white dress shirt and a pair of navy blue slacks on his long legs, poised over his laptop, typing and staring at the screen. He didn’t initially look up when I came in, and seeing him like that made my heart pang for him because it was such a familiar sight to my eyes. Hoppy, deep in concentration, trying to solve a problem, oblivious to everything else in the world.

Hoppy. That was Hoppy.

“Yo,” Ned called a bit loudly, and then he sang, “your boyfriend’s back, and you’re gonna be in trouble.”

“Not funny Ned,” Moze scolded.

“It was a little bit funny,” I said.

At the sound of my voice, Hoppy’s face, lit by the glowing screen, turned towards me and a smily lit up his lips, and my heart stopped beating just looking at him. God, he was gorgeous. It almost hurt to look at him, but it felt equally painful to think of looking away. “Thank goodness,” he growled, but rather than getting up and rushing to me, as I expected, he stayed put and even seemed to grasp the table where the laptop sat as if to restrain himself from doing exactly that.

“New clothes?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“What? Oh, yes. But… I wanted to…”

“That was intense,” I said, cutting him off before we both started embarrassing ourselves. “Sorry about the whole passing out and scaring you thing, but… you’re so amazing! I just… couldn’t quite handle it all, I guess.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “Please don’t blame yourself.”

I laughed slightly. “I wish I could! Imagine being able to boast that I make men so hot and horny that they explode with cum and bathe me in sex so pure and overwhelming that I pass out! How cool would that be?”

“It sounds better than it is,” he answered. “But… I think I know what happened, and why, and in a way—you kind of partially are to blame.”

“Oh, thank god!”

He laughed. So did Ned and Moze. So did I. Tension broken, Hoppy went on. “Do you want the long version or the short version.”

“In my experience, the short version of anything is never very satisfying. The longer the better,” I told him.

Ned and Moze caught my meaning, but Hoppy was still in Investigator Hoppy mode and his achingly handsome features only registered slight confusion. He opened his mouth but Moze interrupted him with a finger, and asked, “Can we hear the short version, out of curiosity?” He looked at Ned and me and added, “I find that the short ones can be more interesting and creative.” Then he winked at Ned.

“I need to learn how to blink,” Hoppy reported. Which was, as Moze pointed out, both interesting and creative. Then he launched into the long one.

“We all blink all the time without realizing it or paying particular attention. When our eyes get dry, we blink. It is an involuntary reaction. But we can also blink whenever we want to, or close our eyes, or attempt to keep them open without blinking. These are all voluntary reactions. Our brain works both ways, often simultaneously, and extremely quickly. Breathing, same sort of thing. Walking, we move our muscles to allow forward momentum. But we can also flex muscles we want to without any particular need.

“I am now in ownership of an augmented and amplified biomagnetism. I have done some research and it turns out that this isn’t as unique as I imagined. In particular, some Tibetan monks have shown an ability to focus their body’s electromagnetic current, which they call Qi, into their hands. This occurs both during healing practices, such as massage, and martial arts, which use mostly the body’s strengths for movement and striking. It’s been measured in laboratories using magnetometers.”

Cool! We were back to talking about Bruce Lee and magnets! I was digging this.

“However, mine appears to have progressed to a point where it can connect to the biomagnetism of others as a conduit. It can externalize, like a muscle acting on a weight. And this is a voluntary response, not an involuntary one. No one can shut off their biomagnetic field anymore than they can stop blood from flowing. It exists intrinsic to being alive. So I’m always blinking, but I need to understand what happens when I voluntarily blink.”

“So… you’re a sex monk that can channel his qi into other people.”

“I’m not sure I’m a sex monk, Ned. Frankly, I’m not sure sex monks exist.”

“Oh, they exist all right. I’ll ping you a few names out of my contacts later.”

Moze raised his hand. “Uh? Hello?”

“I already sent them to you,” Ned reported, throwing Moze a kiss. Moze caught the air kiss and rubbed it on his left nipple.

Hoppy looked at me. “What appears to have happened was when I discovered I could ejaculate voluntarily—on command, as it were—we were still connected. Or….ugh… Hopped.”

“Yay!” Ned squeaked.

“The profound pleasure I was experiencing was amplified because I was also experiencing you experiencing my ejaculations, which subsequently increased by a factor of 2 the amount of emotional and physical pleasure I was experiencing. So, essentially, every time I ejac….”

“Can you just say came? Or come? You’re making this sound not sexy and it sounds super sexy,” Ned complained.

“Every time I… came, a feedback loop was engaged between us. Unfortunately, your biomagnetic system couldn’t cope with the intensity of the physical pleasure you were experiencing, and you… short circuited.”

“That sounds bad,” I said.

“Clearly, it was. You spasmed and passed out.”

“You fucked him to death!” Ned said quietly.

“Again, not funny Ned.”

“It’s a little bit funny,” I said again. What gay man doesn’t enjoy gallows humor? “I must admit that I was feeling rather amazing up until I wasn’t.”

“Your system tried to cope but it simply didn’t have the capacity to do so. Perhaps with more extended exposure to hopping it would develop its own mechanisms, as a body sometimes does when pain thresholds are breached, like we breached your pleasure threshold, or perhaps there’s simply an incompatibility now between my system and yours, since mine has evolved.”

“I favor the extended exposure option and expanding my pleasure threshold,” I told him. “I definitely wasn’t feeling any pain.”

“At any rate, this is something I need to learn how to control better. I believe I already experience a great deal of control over its external aspects, and I understand when I’m doing it, with whom, and how strongly we’re attached. What I failed to do in this case was understand the limits of the network and of its channels to accept the full power of the feed. I was fully attached to you, Hulkster, I was holding nothing back. But until you started showing some physical manifestations of duress, I felt nothing similar in the network.”

“Knowing is half the battle,” I said, helpfully. “I’m tired but otherwise I feel fine. Brain is working as usual, which explains why my dick is throbbing while I’m listening to you explain that something potentially dangerous happened. And now you learned another new thing about yourself, along with the ‘I can cum on demand as much as I want to for as long as I want to until I want to stop’ thing.” I walked to him and took his hands—Jesus! Huge!—into mine and said, with shocking earnestness, “I love you. Nothing else matters.”

“I love you too,” he said. “So much it hurts.” He kissed me gently, with his warm hand against my cheek.

“Is it dusty in here?” Ned asked, dabbing at his eyes. “Feels really dusty in here.”

“Yeah,” Moze agreed, swallowing thickly, “dusty.”


Hoppy’s new wardrobe, which consisted only of one shirt and one pair of pants, currently, and not even a pair of underwear, socks or shoes for his size 16 feet were readily available. The tailor, Mr. M as the boys called him now, had performed tailoring magic by sewing an off-the-rack XXXL business shirt to one with a much narrower was it and much larger sleeves to accommodate Hoppy’s much larger arms. The pants, Ned reported, originally were big enough for three Neds to fit inside, but again the talented tailor performed needle and thread magic and fit Hoppy’s absurdly narrow waist, absurdly bodacious butt, and absurdly thick thighs and calves into pants not designed to do so.

His prick, sans underwear, made an overt and lick-smacking outline along his leg, the fat helmet easily observed bulging like a cock head against the dark material. McD had retreated back to his shop to perform more miracles, likely staying up all night long (and paid rather handsomely for the bother) to outfit Hoppy with a more complete wardrobe soon.

Hoppy said what I was experiencing like having a sex hangover. My dopamine levels had been depleted, or so he thought since we weren’t back in his lab and able to run us both through some tests, but my lethargy, if one can call passing out lethargy, suggested that I just needed some rest to regain what our overheated sexual liaison had used up. But the human brain is a pretty resolvent organ and with some almonds, bananas and apples (which Ned had thoughtfully provided) I would be back in balance soon.

I must admit that the idea of Hoppy walking into our high school reunion amongst a group of stick-up-their-asses homophobes like a walking sex bomb who could go off at any minute quite literally, launching volley after volley after volley of cum out into the gathering and making them all as sex drunk as I was, I found quite appealing. If anyone needed a massive orgasmic orgiastic explosion, it was those assholes.

But Hoppy, as usual, was the voice of reason, even if that voice resembled the sexy rumble of a Led Zeppelin bass line played over the sound of the U.S. Navy having sex with itself. “I think it’s prudent to curtail any public interactions until I can fully understand what’s happening. I spoke with Ned and Moze and they agreed that being around me now is like being… how did you put it, Ned?”

“It’s like being naked on a beach except the sun is made of sex and it’s pouring over my skin and if I try to go into the ocean it’s also made of sex.”

“Everything is made of sex,” Moze agreed. “It feels good, but holy cow all I want to do is fuck. My dick feels like it weighs 50 pounds and my butt hole is tingling like there’s a tongue permanently attached to it.”

“Nipples, too,” Ned agreed. “Everything just feels… awesome.”

Hoppy grimaced slightly. “And keep in mind that I’m not even trying. Perhaps this is because we’ve been previously attached biomagnetically and there are lingering aspects of that connection tying my libido into yours. But I can’t be sure and I don’t know what the effects will be with exposure to a wider field of subjects.”

“People, you mean,” I said. He could be a wee bit clinical at times.

He smiled and nodded. “If the connection is growing stronger, that suggests that my biomagnetic system is also increasing in strength, and there’s just no way to predict what this means going forward. It’s highly unusual and certainly something I wouldn’t have expected as a result of my transformation. Larger, stronger muscles, weight and size increases, augmented physical sublimity, amplified libido, enlarged sexual equipment, elevated sexual stimulation and arousal, those were all fairly predictable.”

“Those were predictable?”

“But developing an externalized force that connects with other individuals into a shared sexual experience that includes physical realization of my physical sensations?” He shook his head and blew a breath from his pursed (beautiful) lips.

Even worn out and underpowered, I could feel what they were referring to. I remembered walking off the elevator earlier and feeling it. Hell, I could feel it three floors away, and that was before Hoppy experienced two more rounds of evolutionary development! There was a sort of throbbing, humming, pulsing sensation that stroked my dick and licked my hole and squeezed my balls and coated my skin in warm wet sex. It was constant, now, and certainly emanating from Hoppy’s enormous, muscular, perfect body.

I didn’t object to the sensation, because it was 100% pleasing. It felt good, physically and emotionally, certainly better than any drug I’d ever taken. My mind wasn’t fuzzy and my body didn’t hurt, but there was definitely some external power at play because my dick didn’t normally feel like it was constantly holding a sizzling load of cum inside it trying to escape. My asshole wasn’t always buzzing and twitching with satisfying pulses. My balls weren’t normally feeling like they weighed ten pounds each and held enough creamy cum to fill a pint glass.

More than simple arousal, which I seem to experience in short waves that rise and fall like a rollercoaster, it was a feeling of intoxicating, constant, sizzling masculinity. That was the only phrase that seemed to adequately fit this sensation. It was overwhelming virility, that sexy, horny tingle, coupled with raw muscular power surging through my body, like I could fucking bench press a Mack truck, or curl a refrigerator. A robust, brawny, vigorous, potent pumping of incredible male fertility, making my dick feel massive and powerful, throbbing with needy pulses, thick and heavy with a fat load of cum held ready for explosion, quivering in my dick and anxious to be pumped free. Like I could fuck nonstop and never be fully satisfied, coming and coming and coming and coming. Quarts of cum. Gallons.

All because I was in proximity to Hoppy and this was what he physically experienced 24/7/365 now, broadcasting on a wavelength of pure sexual potency.

Additionally, my boyfriend was even sexier now than when he was fucking me in the shower. Evidently, coming at will and splattering an endless supply of warm creamy cum all over me was enough to start his evolution engine up again, which made me both proud and dumbfounded. Even barely hidden behind clothes, his body radiated pure muscular strength and unlimited power.

The clothing, weirdly, made him sexier than being naked. Seeing his muscles pressing against the material threatening to rip it apart like the Hulk; the way his nipples made their potency known, their darkness staining the white cotton behind those prominent half-dollar sized circles; the tightness of the sleeves gripping onto his 31-inch upper arms—or even larger now?—and the miracle of his slacks somehow managing to not only fit his narrow waist but also make room for that bodacious super-butt in back and the major crotch bulge in front was inventing new fetishes I never even knew I had. Tightly clothed muscle monsters with massive visible penis lines and a bubble butt so big it threatened to redefine what an ass could be? Fuck me, that was hot.

Hoppy sat me down and made me eat, explaining that I needed sustenance and energy replenished after my inadvertent super exposure to his body’s electromagnetic field. I was starting to agree with Ned that it needed a much sexier name, especially when considering its effects.

To say that I was concerned wouldn’t be far off the mark. Passing out from pleasure was one thing, but doing it not because my body was being caressed and stroked and sucked to excess but only because I was near to him as he radiated his continual, powerful pulses of pure sex and masculine energy was something quite different. I told him I wanted it all, but I had no idea how much all of it was, and I didn’t know if Hoppy knew either.

At the same time, and even though I was aware that this probably wasn’t my logical brain talking, I wanted more! It wasn’t like a drug, which can fog your senses and alter your cognition. On drugs, you can make dumb decisions (which, admittedly, this was one of) and stumble because your body and brain are being affected in ways you’re not entirely in command of. Which is, more or less, the point of mind-altering substances. To alter the mind.

Until I passed out because I simply could not deal with the intensity, duration, and enormity of the experience, I was in the throes of a sexual bliss so powerful that it blotted out everything else, but I was also completely aware of what was happening. I was brought to the very edge, the very edge, of orgasm and held there indefinitely. Everything was screaming with perfect and absolute ecstasy. And I suppose, given my human limitations without benefit of Hoppy’s evolutionary upgrade, I simply couldn’t cope with it.

But I sincerely wanted to go back there again, and experience those sensations all over.

Hoppy seemed equally concerned and was trying to hide it from me, but his constant worried looks in my direction and the care he was taking to make sure I was okay, and eating, and taking care of myself spelled out his disquiet. I assumed he was now mitigating his sex waves and fuck scent as much as he could, but it was still like being a moth fluttering around a very strong fire, except the heat and light were sexual pleasure and masculine energy radiating out in strong, constant pulses.

Judging from Moze’s and Ned’s constant throbbing erections, throbbing with hard, dull beats and drooling pre like leaky oil cans, they were also being affected, though perhaps not having been overwhelmed like I was meant that they weren’t worried about it and were just enjoying the ride.

Hoppy, being Hoppy, proposed an experiment, with which I could see one glaring problem that he seemed to miss. In short, Hoppy wanted to have an orgy, involving all of us and potentially anyone else we might want to invite into this crazy magic muscle growth world to test a theory he had concerning weakening his signal by diluting the network, which was a technical way of saying more cocks in more butts means less concentrated attention from him.

The drawback was, as I told him, that having us overstimulated was one thing, but every time he’s been overstimulated he experienced a new growth cycle, and as he had pointed out after looking at his charts and graphs, they were growing stronger as well as more frequent. What would happen after he was being pleasured over every inch of his body, being sucked and fucked and kissed and caressed and come on and coming on everyone else for what we can presume to be the foreseeable future? Did he really think it was a good idea to start experimenting in this very public hotel without any knowledge of what would happen?

Unfortunately, all my words like “pleasured over every inch” and “sucked and fucked and kissed and caressed” and most especially “coming on everyone else” were doing very little to cool his engines.

Or Ned’s.

Or Moze’s.

Or mine, for that matter.

So I breathed a little sigh of relief when another knock at the penthouse door temporarily curtailed our increasingly heated—and by that I mean sexually hot and not argumentative—discussion about what the four of us could get up to hooked up to Hoppy’s sex net. It was duck outside the penthouse windows but I otherwise had no sense of time anymore. It felt like I had been doing nothing but having amazing sex for the entire last day and a half. Maybe passing out was just me trying to catch up on some shut-eye?

It was Carver, and Carver turned out to be more than expected.

For one thing, his obsequious behavior in the lobby was mostly an act. The dude was in no was a subservient out to please at any cost. Instead, he was a take charge kind of guy who came to quick decisions and cut to the chase on almost anything he encountered. On reflection, that was probably a good habit for someone tasked with doing the impossible on an hourly basis and trying to keep a lot of unhappy, wealthy tourists satisfied.

If someone wanted something, Carver was the man who know how to get it where it was, how much it costs, and whether it was strictly legal or not. Impossible tickets to sold-out concerts, reservations at the best tables in the hottest restaurants, and engaging a hooker for the night were mundane tasks he did every day. What we had in our Hoppy was a challenge he couldn’t turn down.

He had an encyclopedic knowledge of social networks—both the real kind with actual people and the fake kind that happens online—and he was completely unfazed by pretty much anything we threw at him. He was smart, he was savvy, he was connected, and he was kind of bitchy, which was fun.

In other words, given our current dilemma, Carver was in the right place at the right time. I probably should have guessed his super power when the tailor who could provide clothing that fit Hoppy’s insane measurements perfectly walked into the penthouse, but it turned out that there was practically nothing that Carver couldn’t get done.

His introduction to the group proved to preface his ongoing interactions with us. Though we were all currently dressed, and the penthouse was miraculously cleaned of Hoppy’s massive cum explosions, and we’d opened the windows to air out the scents of ass, cum, sweat, leather and spit, we’d been going more or less nonstop for hours so there was no way to eliminate it all.

He appeared unflustered and a bit less formal than when we met at his desk. He still wore a tie and jacket, though these were his own rather than a uniform, and he was immaculate in his style and comportment. If he was shocked or thrilled or otherwise emotionally engaged in us, his face betrayed none of it. He was handsome in a rather Midwestern, all-American manner, with a strong dimple chin, straight dirty blonde hair, wide green eyes, an absolute absence of whiskers or even a shadow, and he stood very tall, probably six-foot four, with what we call “a swimmer’s build” in gay cruising parlance, with very wide shoulders, a very narrow waist, and long limbs.

He walked in as we were sitting around with hard-ons discussing Hoppy’s orgy idea. I watched his gaze dance around us, taking in our faces and bodies and packed crotches like a man perusing a menu. Then he zeroed in on my boyfriend’s unearthly beauty and superhuman dimensions and his cock joined ours in swelling to full erection like it was being inflated.

It was the first and possibly the only time I saw Carver’s face register anything other than cool, calm acceptance as he attempted to take in what he was seeing. Hoppy’s huge chest stretched the shirt out so that his nipples were shoved against the material, obvious and sensual. The tailor had expertly cut and sewn the shirt to allow for Hoppy’s enormous chest, extra-wide shoulders, thick neck and deltoids, as well as his stupidly narrow waist. Then his trousers were working overtime to contain Hoppy’s long, thick monster and two heavy plums while still managing to keep his fantastic bubble butt and enormous thigh muscles contained as well. Truly, it was a miracle of tailoring.

“Hello, Carver,” I said. “This is my boyfriend, Dr. Jeremy Hopkins.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Hoppy said, offering his big hand, “My friends call me Hoppy.” His voice was polite and reserved, but it was also as deep as the ocean and made shivers run up and down my spine. It was like being greeted by a grizzly who wanted to fuck you. I knew Hoppy was concerned and polite and would probably refrain from doing it without asking permission, but I pondered whether Hoppy was already extending his sex vibes out to try connecting to Carver’s lanky body—or if he’d already done it, because he was so powerful now. I knew Carver had to “agree” to the intrusion, but seeing as how he didn’t seem to project any of his internal feelings, it was impossible to know without asking.

“And this is Moses Aloysius Gabriel Jackson.”

Moze looked at me surprised and said, “You remembered my name!”

“I try to do that with anyone who’s dick has been inside me,” I said.

He held his hand out to Carver and said, “Everyone calls me Moze.”

“Carver Michel Dixon,” said Carver. “Michel after my fraternal grandfather, a French Canadian butcher, and Carver was my mother’s maiden name.” I presumed he got asked the question about whether Carver was a first or last name so he volunteered the information before it was asked.

“And of course you already know Ned.”

“Yes,” the power bottom acknowledged. “We’re well acquainted.”

Carver nodded to Ned. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he said, flickering his gaze back towards Hoppy’s unavoidable presence.

“Not really, we only just met. I’m just good at taking advantage of a rewarding situation.”

“An admirable quality,” Carver agreed. He lifted his bag, a small black buckled thing resembling a doctor’s case, and said, “I brought my tools.”

“Tools?” I asked.

He turned towards me. “I believe you asked about a barber or hair stylist?”

“You do that, too?”

He bowed slightly. “I’m unlicensed in this state, but fully qualified.” He opened the bag and pulled out a dangerous pair of scissors and a large poncho sort of thing. “I presume we’ll be starting with Dr. Hopkins?”

“Hoppy, please,” Hoppy said, gathering a thick collection of his dark, shining, wavy locks. “And, yes, I’m afraid things have gotten out of hand.” I initially wanted to object to cutting his hair because, like the rest of him, it was beautiful. Thick, rich, shiny, it was like a lion’s mane.

But then I considered it from his point of view. It did tend to get in the way a lot when he was horizontally reclined and on top, sliding all over the place making him try to push it out of the way. And in our frequent showers, if he tilted his head the wrong way while kissing me, there it was again, sliding across both our faces.

And then I thought about Thor: Ragnarok and the before crazy barber Stan Lee got hold of him and (sexy as fuck) the after Chris Hemsworth and my dick throbbed. Hard. Hoppy was like if Chris Hemsworth had sex with Chris Hemsworth and gave birth to an insanely handsome, impossibly sexy, enormously powerful Super Chris Hemsworth only with dark hair and a chest like two beach balls with nipples.

“While you two get started digging into that mountainous mane and you two… uh… fuck? I guess?” Moze and Ned looked at each other, then back at me, nodding simultaneously. “I think I’m going to satiate both my curiosity and sense of foreboding and go down to check out the reunion.”

“You’re actually going?” Hoppy asked, incredulously.

“I’m actually going. I was the football captain, remember?”

“And baseball,” Hoppy said, “And basketball. And swimming.”

“Jesus, overcompensating much?” Ned asked, arching a slender eyebrow.

“What can I say, I’m multi-talented.”

Ned looked at Carver and added, “But he prefers to top.”

“I shall keep that firmly in mind,” Carver responded with a slim but meaningful smile.


After heading back to my room to take another shower—possibly my eighth? I lost count—putting fresh goop in my hair and making sure I had nothing stuck in my teeth, I changed into my good duds and headed for the venue.

The Hotel Ballroom. I laughed out loud when I saw the directional signs and the gold letters above its entrance. The “ballroom” would certainly take on another meaning entirely if Hoppy showed up tonight.

I was fashionably late and there were people milling about both inside and outside the doors. I looked for familiar faces, exchanged a few nods and smiles, avoided a few others for the time being in order to avoid dredging up some bad memories, and went to the check-in table to retrieve my name tag for those who didn’t already know who I was.

I hadn’t changed much, if at all, to be frank. Some more gray hairs and wrinkles, hair in more places on my body, but if anything I was in even better shape now than I was then, owning to several more years of concentrated effort in various gyms.

The same could not be said of many of my old teammates, who were married with kids and had beer guts or bald pates or extraordinary facial hair I could not account for at all. I kept my eye out for the perpetrators of the famous—now infamous—”phone incident.” It all seemed more than a little silly, now that same-sex marriage was a thing and Will and Grace had come and gone, pushing gay identities into even the most homophobic of houses.

But it still stung. It was still there. The humiliation, the guilt, the fear. All of it wrapped around something I couldn’t have changed then, just being not-straight, and I didn’t want to change now.

I didn’t intend to confront anyone. What difference would it make now? The time for confrontation was long past, and Hoppy had already done it for me.

I thought of Hoppy as he was then, an image imprinted on my memory of his beautiful face, framed by a constantly shifting collection of dark wavy hair, and his small body dressed in clothing that never fit right. I thought about the boy he was then and the man he was now, and my dick started throbbing for both of them. The loving, caring, always there for me one, and the impossibly hot, incredibly handsome, super muscular, horse-hung, cum factory upstairs.

And that was when three of my teammates chose to come up to me, smelling of beer, wedding rings on all their fingers, to reminisce about the good old days, with my cock swelling in my pants and the thought of fucking Hoppy sizzling in my brain.

Chet, Ron, and Barry. Three intensely straight white guys whose lens through life probably hadn’t changed because it didn’t have to. I was already prejudiced against them before any of them opened their mouths, so imagine my surprise when they all greeted me with affectionate hugs and openly bright smiles. It made me feel a little bit angry, because I was all prepared to hate them all over again.

Barry looked like he’d done nothing but watch baseball and eat pizza over the years. A prominent paunch hung over his belt and he had not just two but almost three chins. But his blue eyes remained the same, as did his toothy smile. Ron looked markedly better, though his taste in clothes was, shall we say, a bit outdated? Perhaps he hadn’t faired as well monetarily as some of us and though a two-decade old suit would be satisfactory for a two-decade reunion. He retained all the hair of his head, still vibrantly Irish red, with those bushy eyebrows now matched by a huge, unkempt bushy beard.

Lastly, there was Chet. Or Chester Scott Anderson, as his mother called him when she was vexed with something new he’d done, which was often. Chet was the prankster of the group, facing every challenge head-on and inviting some new ones along the way. To be honest, I had a crush on Chet back in the day, not only for his brazen character but because he had a very furry body even back then, with a forest of dark curls on his broad, chest and strong tight end’s legs, and a treasure trail that truly lead to a treasure; a fairly impressive length of dick and two hairy low hangers that he was more than happy to parade around the locker room before and after showering.

He still looked good, damn him! Like he’d been keeping up with me at the gym, judging by the way his thick arms and wide shoulders were testing the limits of the coffee brown jacket he was wearing over… jeans? Oh my god, Chet wore jeans to the reunion, which was both an extremely Chet thing to do as well as highlighting that if anything, his cock was even bigger now than I remembered from back then.

Fuck. The combination of my gay fantasy lover up in the penthouse and my straight high school crush reappearing and looking better than he had a right to was making my chub approach full hardness in uncomfortably record time. And when Chet leaned in for a bro-hug, he leaned all the way in, pressing our muscled torsos together and—I swear I’m not making this up—rubbing his bulge against mine! Fuck!

“The Three Musketeers,” I said, remembering their team nickname. Two guards and a tight end, there to block for me and catch my tosses with practiced ease. They all raised their glasses to toast and, seeing I was still sans liquor and calling me Captain, tugging me towards the open bar.

It felt both comfortable and uncomfortable, because though we were teammates and good friends, two of these dudes—Barry and Ron, the alpha guards from my offensive line—were in on the phone incident and one of them, Barry, was instrumental in making sure everyone knew about my proclivities for the love of the male form. It was hardly subtle, because nothing in high school is, but now they were acting as if it had never even happened.

My face probably gave me away. I was surprised or shocked upon seeing them again, but now that the moment had passed, it was dredging up a lot of things I thought I buried a long time ago, and what made it worse was that they didn’t seem to even notice.

Except for Chet, who was curiously quiet and contemplative as the other two joked and reminisced about our plays both on and off the field. When I looked at him, his eyes stayed locked on my face, every time I glanced at him. He didn’t even seem to be paying very much attention to what the others were saying, and though he had a drink at the ready, he wasn’t imbibing with the relish of the other two big men.

Chet looked like if Jake Gyllenhaal… No, scratch that. He looked just like Jake Gyllenhaal. Rather, Jake Gyllenhaal looked like Chet, because Chet was there first. My dick throbbed again thinking of Jake in that scene where he’s dancing in nothing but a G-string and a Santa hat, shaking his butt just like Chet used to shake his dick around in the lockers. Chet’s face was a little narrower, and his lips were a bit fuller, but he could step into any role Gyllenhaal performed and I doubt anyone would see the difference.

“So, what do you do, Captain?” I was brought back from fantasy Jake shaking his dick at me to Ron’s question.

“Software development. Like everyone else, it seems.”

“Whoa, really?”

“You always were pretty smart,” Barry put in, with a slight drunken slur. “I’m in insurance. Pay’s all right. Not very exciting, though.”

“Same,” I said, though I could think of literally nothing more dull than insurance as a career.

Ron nodded towards Chet and said, “This joker is doing all right.”

I looked at Jake.. I mean, Chet. “That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah, dude is in Hollywood. Writer? That right?”

Chet nodded and licked his lips. “Screenwriter.”

“Anything famous?” I asked.

“Probably nothing you’ve seen. Small films, mostly independent.”

“Wait a second. Chester Scott Anders… you… you’re not Scott Chester?”

“I am, sometimes, Scott Chester.”

I brightened up immediately. The fucking fur-covered tight end from high school was the writer of both Red Doors and The Sea of Stars! Holy fuck! Now my brain was as interested as my cock! Holy fuck!

“Holy fuck! I loved The Sea of Stars!”

“You and two others,” he noted dryly. “I’m a script fixer for the most part. Uncredited, but it pays well.”

“What the hell is a script fixer?” Barry wondered before gulping down the rest of his beer.

“Dialog tweaks, fill plot holes, I just take something that’s almost there and make it there there.” I laughed and he smiled and my dick swelled. “What kind of software?”

“What?” All the blood was rushing to my dick.

“What software do you develop?”

“Security stuff. Software to monitor applications for intrusions or bad code. It’s boring, and no one’s heard of the company.”

“Sounds important,” Chet remarked.

“To some,” I said.

“Can we… As it happens, one of the scripts I’m doctoring right now has a cyber angle. But it’s terribly cliched and I don’t have the tech chops to know if some of the things it uses to push the plot make any sense. Used to be it didn’t matter, but like you said, everyone is using software now. It could be a distraction for the story if it comes off as ignorant. Could I grab you later and press you for some insights? I could pay you.”

“For you, the man who caught all my balls? You get it for free.”

“I bet he does,” Barry whispered too loudly.

“What?” I asked, no longer the shrinking violet when it came to homophobes.

“Nothing,” Barry replied. “You said ‘balls’ and….”

“Shut up, Barry.” It was Ron.

“Go ahead, Barry,” I said, suddenly feeling defensive. “Say what you want to say.”

“Jesus, you’re always so fucking sensitive. It was a fucking joke! That’s all! Jesus.”

“You’re drunk, Barry,” Ron said. “Why don’t you head outside and get some air.”

“I’m not god damned drunk! I haven’t even….”

Ron took him by the shoulders and started pushing him away from the bar. “I’m gonna take Porthos outside,” he said, using Barry’s Three Musketeers name. He looked at Chet and said, “Good seeing you again, and congratulations on the script… thing.” Then towards me. “I’ll come by again after I cool this one down.”

“I ain’t hot,” Barry complained.

“Let’s go, Sherlock.”

Chet moved next to me and we watched the two large men walk and stumble across the ballroom. “Some things never change,” I said.

“Some things do.” Chet set his drink on the bar. “This is just dreadful. If that’s a gin and tonic I’m Zsa Zsa Gabor.”

“Funny, you seem more like Eva.”

“Weren’t they twins?”

“No, but that’s not an unfair assumption. What I meant was that Zsa Zsa wasn’t as talented as Eva. I mean, look at her repertoire.”

“Remind me?”

Green Acres. The Aristocats. The Rescuers.”

Match Game,” Chet added.

“A classic if ever there was one.”

He turned more fully towards me. “I… need to say I’m sorry to you.”

“Why?” I was genuinely perplexed.

“All that went down. That stuff that happened with your phone and all. I was a shit.”

“That was two dozen years ago. Besides, you didn’t do anything,” I said.

“That’s my point. I didn’t do anything. Hoppy was the hero.” He turned his back to the crowd and I joined him, leaning on the bar. “By the way, do you know if he’s coming? You two were pretty inseparable back in the day, though I suppose as rich as he is now there are probably better things to occupy his time.”

“I think he might show up,” I said, trying to be cagey.

“I owe him one too. An apology. We were all very cruel to him. Except you, of course.”

“It was high school. Everyone’s an asshole in high school.”

“You weren’t.”

“I… was just trying to hide some things. Not make waves.”

“Not make waves by being the captain of every sports team?”

“I can’t help it if I’m competitive and naturally athletic.”

“Looks like you’re still naturally athletic.”

“You always were a flirt,” I observed, not considering the compliment as a come-on.

He smiled and reached behind the bar, extracting a bottle of bourbon. “I was hoping you’d show up, tonight. You’re the main reason I’m here at all.”

“Catching up on old times?”

The new voice joining our conversation was unmistakable, and how he’d managed to sneak up on me like that made me jump. I felt more than heard him speak, his basso profondo resonating like a bass drum, resounding in its subtle quiet. I turned around and my dick almost ripped its way out of my trousers.

The tailor had no doubt paid a second visit replete with a new navy blue with subtle gray pinstripes three-piece suit, white dress shirt, all set off with a blue tie that complimented his eyes perfectly. He looked perfect, as would be expected I guess, except that the suit was somehow managing to simultaneously camouflage his massive muscular bulk while still displaying it at its most beautiful. His body bulged everywhere, in thick mounds of muscle and cock, but it was smoothed out beneath the dark blue suit.

His haircut was very like the after Thor cut, with clipped back and sides and a heap of wavy darkness on top, spilling forward. He had shaven his face, and his jawline was unbelievable, almost cartoonish in its squareness. He smiled at me and my dick, already a rock, started throbbing in time to my rapid heartbeat. “Hi,” Hoppy said.

“Hi,” I said back. And then I reached up to his face, pulled it down to me and pushed my lips to his, kissing him to try to convey exactly how he made me feel. He pulled me into his muscular embrace and I could feel every one of those bulges on his massive frame, including the thick length of throbbing fuck meat he was shoving against my body.

Frankly, I could have willingly stripped us both naked and had him fuck me right there, or me fuck him, or flip fuck. Point is, one of us would fuck the other and the whole fucking class would get to watch. Talk about shoving it in their faces, the “it” in this case being Hoppy’s perfect ass, and me shoving my dick into it.

We probably would have continued kissing until we were naked except that Chet cleared his throat in a gentlemanly manner and reminded us that we weren’t alone.

We pulled our lips apart and I went back down off my toes to reach his mouth. “Nice suit,” I said.

“It’s a wool blend,” he answered. My eyebrow went up and he added, “It stretches.”

“Convenient.”

“You have no idea,” he rumbled.

“Hello,” Chet said, “I’m Chet.”

“Ned,” said Hoppy.

My other eyebrow went up but I only said, “As is probably obvious, Ned here is my significant other.”

“Boyfriend,” Ned Hoppy added. “It sounds better to me.”

“You look familiar,” Chet observed. “Judging by your height and build, are you an actor? Stuntman or something? Have I seen you in one of the Marvel flicks?”

“Oh, no. I’m not very good at acting,” Hoppy said.

“All evidence to the contrary, Ned,” I answered, emphasizing his not-his-name.

“I swear I’ve seen you before. Model?” Hoppy shook his head. “It’s really weird.”

“Chet and I played ball together.”

“The way we play ball together?” Hoppy asked, playfully. Who was this man next to me, anyway?

“No, actual ball.”

“We play with actual balls,” he pointed out.

“Sports balls.”

“We get pretty athletic.”

“Anyway,” I said, changing the subject, “what sort of mischief have you been up to? The hair looks good, by the way.”

He ran a hand through his shorn locks, making his upper arm bulge powerfully within his thankfully stretchy sleeve. “Thank you. Me and the boys made some plans for later, then we fucked around a little… well, a lot. We fucked around a lot.”

“I’ve only been gone like thirty minutes.”

“One can fuck around a remarkable amount in half an hour.”

“You’re pretty terrible at innuendo,” Chet observed. “I mean, assuming when you say you were fucking around you were literally fucking around.”

“We were.” Hoppy moved behind me and draped his arms around me, pressing his warm, firm prick against my butt crack and spine. I felt his warm breath on my neck and then he was kissing me there, and licking my ear. The dude was horny as fuck, which wasn’t unusual, but what was weird was I couldn’t feel it.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I’m great. Why do you ask?”

“I… don’t feel you.”

“Oh. You mean like this?”

A sudden, hard, all-encompassing, overwhelming wave of pure lustful sex was thrust into me like a detonation of a bomb or being inundated beneath a heavy, hot shower. My knees practically buckled and I gasped and swooned and my dick was throbbing and my ass was buzzing and my nips were tingling and everything felt enormously good.

And then it didn’t. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, like a switch being turned on and off, first flooding a room with light as bright as a sun, and then turning off just as significantly.

Chet reached towards me and Hoppy’s arms tightened. “Whoa, bro. Maybe we ought to slow down on the whiskey.”

“He’ll be all right,” my boyfriend said, kissing my cheek. He whispered, “I’ve been practicing.”

I sucked in slow breath. “Successfully it would appear. Holy shit, Ho… Ned.”

Hoppy looked at Chet, resting his stupidly handsome chin on my shoulder. “Did someone mention whiskey?”

“Happy to serve, since our bartender is curiously absent,” Chet said, moving around to the back of the bar. “Bourbon? Scotch? Looks like… there’s no Irish.”

“You know your whiskies,” Hoppy complimented. “I prefer Scotch, depending on the Scotch.”

“Johnny Walker or Dewars. No singles,” Chet reported.

“You choose,” Hoppy advised. “I trust your judgement.”

“Something tells me that I’ll dissuade you from that mistake before the night is out.” What that ‘something’ was piqued my curiosity, and I felt Hoppy’s monster jerk with a sudden hard pulse against me as well. He lifted up a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and poured shots into three glasses.

The signature peaty scent of Scotch started wafting between us, and that was all I could smell. Either that new suit was doing double duty as armor against Hoppy’s fuck stank, or Hoppy-slash-Ned had learned to control that, too, though I found that idea somewhat farfetched. You can’t control your stink, any more than you can control your breathing. Bodies are bodies, even if they’re an evolutionary lightyear ahead.

Aren’t they?

“Should we toast to something?” Chet asked.

“To Hoppy!” I said, “The bravest man I ever met.”

“To Hoppy,” Chet echoed, lifting his glass.

“To Hoppy,” Hoppy said, grinning stupid handsomely.

We clinked to our ‘absent friend.’ Chet downed his in one go. Hoppy followed his example, an interesting look that coupled pain and pleasure crossing his features, but I elected to sip. I’d already downed a few shots of Bourbon, and I had passed out earlier today, so I didn’t want to tempt fate.

“I assume you too are still in the honeymoon phase?” Chest asked.

“Honeymoon phase?”

He was pouring himself and Hoppy another round. “Still into each other, still kissing like you mean it, still can’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Does it show?” I asked, as Hoppy moved his hands up my torso and started caressing my pecs and nipples, kissing my neck and breathing warmth against my skin.

Chet smiled, though, as he watched my boyfriend molest my chest. “Only slightly.” He was running his finger around the rim of his glass and added, peering narrow-eyed at my boyfriend’s uncannily beautiful face, “I know I know you from somewhere.”

“I have one of those faces,” Hoppy answered.

“No, you most definitely do not. I don’t think I’m stretching the truth to say that you are easily the most handsome individual—male or female—I have ever seen. I’m sure you get complimented a lot.” Hoppy/Ned shrugged. “Wait. Self-effacing as well as handsome? That’s too much.”

“I think you’ll find that nearly everything about Ned is too much.”

“Or just enough,” Ned corrected, squeezing me in his arms. “I’m neither famous nor a celebrity. I’m not even on those social media sites. I’m sure I just remind you of someone else.”

“No, it’s not that. You remind me of you, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Who’s the wall?” Ron and Barry were back, and Barry was obviously still feeling confrontational.

Hoppy did not release me from his strong embrace when he answered. “If you’re referring to me, the name is Ned. I’m Alexander’s boyfriend.”

“‘Alexander’? Was Alex not formal enough for you?”

I sighed with resignation and said, “The polite one is Ron, and the obnoxious one is Barry. We played ball together, along with Chet.”

“Obnoxious?” Barry slurred.

Ron agreed. “You’ve always been fairly obnoxious, Barry. As I recall, you used to be quite proud of it.”

“I never said I was obnoxious. I said I was offensive. Not the same things.”

“Sure, Barry,” Ron said, patting his shoulder. “Happy to make your acquaintance, Ned.” He reached forward and shook Hoppy’s large hand. An odd look passed over his face, a kind of half-smile with fairly large and round eyes, and then it was gone. “And god damn if you’re not the biggest dude I have ever met! Are you a bodybuilder or something?”

“Or something,” Hoppy answered. “I like to take care of myself. I think I just have good genes.” He squeezed me again, playfully. His firm, thick cock was still throbbing against me.

“He has very good genes,” I agreed. “Maybe the best genes.”

“Genes with a G or jeans with a J? Because from here it looks like a bit of both,” Chet remarked. His playful flirtations had an effect on my and Hoppy’s dick. Mine throbbed and Hoppy’s pulsed and swelled.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Barry asked. The trip outside had done nothing to lessen his inebriated state.

“How did you two meet?” Chet asked, ignoring Barry.

I opened my mouth to answer, but ‘Ned’ had already thought of one. “We saw each other at the gym. Purely by chance. I tend to work out during the day and Alexander works out at night.”

“After work,” I added, which happened to be true.

“One fateful day I lingered on the treadmill longer than usual, listening to a song I liked, I don’t even remember what it was now, because in he waltzes and it was like magnetism. Or electromagnetism.” I felt a sudden, but subtle, wave of Hoppy hopping into me. It was warm and felt strong and deep. He was caressing me both inside and out. “I’m not the shrinking wallflower type, I tend to go after the things I want, and right then I wanted him. But this handsome fellow decided to play hard to get.”

“I remember it differently,” I said, not remembering it at all, but it seemed impossible that anyone would resist Hoppy’s advances given his state of physical perfection and muscular power.

“Of course you do,” he agreed, kissing my cheek. “Anyway, he made me work for it like no one else had ever done. Which, of course, just made me more determined to win this prize for myself.”

“I’m worth it,” I said. Hoppy’s fuck wave intensified in agreement and I shivered with suppressed lust.

“Indeed you are, as you have proven time and time again.” He looked straight at Barry and said, “I’ve never been fucked as good by anyone else. And that’s the truth.”

“Gross,” Barry answered. I felt Hoppy’s body shake with a slight chuckle.

“We all have our special talents,” I agreed. “Besides, Barry, even you have to say that I know what to do with someone else’s balls, right?”

Barry started to say something but then his eyes scanned up and up and up to my nearly seven-foot-tall, three-feet-wide, several-hundred pounds of muscle boyfriend and he shut his mouth again.

“Well, I’d say Alex won, too,” Ron said in place of Barry’s undoubtedly moronic comeback. “The way you two are standing there, you fit like a lock and key.”

“Or a magnet and steel,” Hoppy suggested. His fuck wave showered me in sexual bliss.

“I gotta take a piss,” I said suddenly, because I had to go walk off or my dick was going to rip through my pants.

“I’ll join you,” Ned said, releasing me from his arms and winding my hand within his.

“You gonna go suck his dick?” Barry asked, leering at us.

“Only if I’m very lucky,” Hoppy answered.


Turned out Hoppy was very lucky.

We locked the door and he pulled open my pants and reached inside to extract my hard as a rock, dripping precum dick and was pleasuring me with his tongue and lips and mouth to such an extent that I started pumping cum down his throat almost as quick as I was in his mouth.

He hopped into me and amped up the pleasure, and added in that special sauce that made my special sauce keep replenishing itself. I moaned and sighed and sucked in air as I felt these huge, thick shots of cream shooting out of my dick for a dozen or more deliveries, each one more powerful than the last so that by the time I was on my last shot, it felt like it lasted a whole minute and made my whole body shake with absolute sexual satisfaction.

“Holy fuck,” I whispered, looking down at Hoppy’s face with his lips still wrapped around my cock.

He pulled his mouth off my cock, slurping and sucking to grab all the cum he could, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and licked off the dregs as well. “You’re welcome,” he said.

“So…. Ned.”

“I thought it would avoid a lot of questions and explanations, and it was name you could easily remember.”

“I guess I get it, but it feels like you’re hiding again. And I would be proud to call you Hoppy out there.”

“It’s not that. I’m not scared or embarrassed. But tonight is about reconnecting with old friends, and, well, your whole team is out there and you’re the only old friend I had.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s pretty much true.”

“Well, now I’m sad.”

“I could suck your dick again. Would that make you happy?”

“You know what? It would! But I don’t have your instant recovery mode.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hoppy engaged the connection and started sending intense pulses of absolute bliss into my dick, and I gasped and grunted with pleasure as my cock inflated back to full power in record speed, leaking a drool of pre.

I almost said “Oh my god” but I only got my mouth open before he pushed his over my prick and started pulling more cum from my aching balls and all I could do was give in to the pleasure.

I really loved my boyfriend. He really was quite talented.

After a second really satisfying blow job and another really satisfying delivery of a lot of cum, Hoppy explained that he and the others—Ned, Moze, and Carver—did some rather intense exploration and examination of hopping using Carver as a very wiling test subject and they discovered that merely by touching someone else, Hoppy could connect with their bioelectric current. It required skin-to-skin contact; even the thinnest material would prevent Hoppy from connecting, but once he touched someone, he seemed to acquire full access, or at least something like recognition.

By that he meant that he could identify them immediately, as everyone seems to operate on a slightly different wavelength, or something, that’s as individual as fingerprints or the iris of their eyes. He could hop into Ned only, or Ned and Moze only, or all three of them with equal ease and facility. And there was no dilution of the effect as the number of people attached grew. In fact, it seemed to amplify the effects.

The more people in the hop, the stronger everyone felt it, including the physical sensations being experienced by the other’s bioelectrical pulses. In fact, he could even hop into two people having sex without his participation—Ned and Moze in this case—and each of them experienced the other’s pleasure without Hoppy’s contributions.

Once he’d identified them, hopping in was as easy as shaking hands, though they determined the subject of the hopping still had to allow access, so to speak, but to Carver it was like allowing someone to shower them in pure pleasure, a sensation he said was like taking a drug and feeling its effects kick in, though in this case the drug was Hoppy and he could manage its effects with pinpoint accuracy, tuning the connection in as weak or as strong as the subject allowed, though this time he kept in mind that his “sex feed” was much stronger than our networks might be able to handle, to which I could immediately attest.

I didn’t particularly enjoy thinking of Hoppy as a drug. I’d had my own bad experiences with some drug use in the past, nothing dangerous, just the usual party drugs, but certainly their addictive properties are quite rightly avoided, and Hoppy acknowledged this as something he would also prefer to avoid, but more experimentation was necessary.

How, for example, would an unwilling subject react? Once he identified them, could they simply refuse to participate? Luckily for us, there was a ballroom full of likely unwilling subjects just outside, and one in particular I suspected would be most unwilling to participate.

Before we got into the potential downsides of hopping, someone was pounding on the door of the men’s room and our conversation was necessarily cut short.


We returned to the bar more contented than we left it, but the looks on the faces of the three men standing there were a lesson in naked emotions.

Chet looked smug, like someone who knew something but wasn’t about to divulge it because just knowing the secret was satisfaction enough. Barry looked either pissed off or disgusted, it was actually hard to tell. I mean, he wasn’t wrong about Hoppy sucking my dick so what was he upset about? And Ron was looking at Barry like a wingman watches a drunken pilot. He looked concerned and a little bit disgusted, too, but for what I assumed were different reasons.

Chet hefted the Johnny Walker and shook it slightly, his eyebrows raised. I nodded and held up two fingers. He smiled and started pouring.

“Disgusting,” Barry groaned without looking at Hoppy or me.

“Actually,” Hoppy replied, “I think it went pretty well. You?”

I nodded. “I’m pretty satisfied.”

“Only pretty satisfied?”

“Fine. I’m absolutely, positively, 100% satisfied. Actually, better make that 200%.”

“Here’s to that,” Hoppy agreed, downing the whiskey Chet provided.

“Gay dudes are so lucky,” Ron observed. “Can you just get it no matter where you are?”

“No,” I admitted. Then, trying to think of a place where we couldn’t get a blow job, I corrected myself. “Well… yeah.”

“Fuck me,” Ron said, sounding impressed as well as jealous. Rather than fall into his trap and make him an offer, I just sipped my drink and smiled.

“So,” Hoppy said after a beat, “you were all friends in high school, then?”

“Teammates more than friends, I think,” Ron offered. “Alex here was curiously distant when we knew each other back then.”

“By ‘curiously distant’ he means ‘tucked so far back in the closet that he couldn’t see the light,’” I volunteered.

“It appears you found you way out,” Chet observed, smiling. “Which I’m sure is better for everyone.”

“Hear, hear,” Hoppy agreed.

“Except for when you parade it around like a fucking badge,” Barry had to add.

“Shut up, Barry,” Ron advised.

“You keep telling me to shut up but I’m only saying what everyone is thinking.”

“Literally no one else is thinking that, Barry.”

He looked at Ron and practically sneered. “Look, I don’t mine some dude being gay, but why do they have to be so… fucking… open about it?”

“Are you suggesting I’m shoving something down your throat?” Hoppy asked while trying unsuccessfully to look innocent.

“I’m just…”

“You don’t have to swallow anything you don’t want to. Just spit it out.”

“Look, no one thinks….”

“Also I like licking butt holes.”

“Ned,” I said warningly, but I smiled anyway.

“I’m only suggesting that perhaps Barry has some sexual hang-ups to deal with and I would be more than happy to help him through them. Or over them. Or inside them. Deep, deep down inside them where it’s warm and soft and feels amazing hugging your dick.”

“He’s hanging all over Alex like a fucking overcoat. Kissing him and fucking rubbing up against him.”

“It’s called love, Barry,” Chet answered. “Maybe one day you’ll find it, too.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable,” Hoppy said, pulling his arms from around me and stepping back, “I can just stand here and lust after his body quietly. Not sure my dick is going to be as accommodating, though.” Then he smiled and we all looked down at the huge, thick, lengthy, dick-shaped bulge in his suit pants.

“Holy hell,” Chet said, and then he drank not taking his eyes off Ned’s bulging crotch.

Hoppy reached down and settled his hand on his cock, squeezing and caressing himself. “Is this better or worse, Barry?”

“Fucking hell,” Barry said quietly.

I tried changing the subject, because otherwise the omnipresence of Hoppy’s fat cock was going to be more than a distraction. “Everyone got married, then?”

Ron nodded and held up his left hand, wiggling his ring finger. Chet said, “Actually, we’re separated. I just… haven’t taken this off yet.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I said, because it’s what you’re supposed to say.

“It’s for the best. Luckily there’s no kids involved. I think we sort of knew that it wasn’t meant to last, plus I wanted kids and she didn’t so that kind of settled that.” Barry remained mum, staring at his glass of whisky in silence. “Oh, also, turns out I may not be as…straight as I always thought I was.”

My eyebrows went up in surprise and curiosity. “Oh?”

Chet nodded. “Yeah, um,” he paused, glancing at Barry, but then went on anyway. “Had a thing with a guy I met—also at the gym, weirdly. I guess that’s a common place for guys to hook up?”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say he made the first move.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. We kept looking at each other when we worked out. He was more into it than I was. The gym I mean.”

“And hooking up,” I pointed out.

“Apparently,” he said, grinning. “He kept offering to spot me, gave me some work out tips, better form, better diet, and from the looks of him I wasn’t going to argue. The guy was major muscle, super fit, ridiculous definition.” He looked at Hoppy. “Not as big as you, but then I’m not sure anyone is as big as you.” Hoppy blushed, which always made my dick throb. “Anyway, one thing lead to another, he asked some rather…pointed questions, had I ever considered it. Would I ever consider it. I was already broken up and I wasn’t in the mood to start anything serious and he was just suggesting a little fun. And a little fun sounded like exactly what I was looking for.”

“He fucked you?” Barry asked point blank.

“Terry—that’s his name, Terry—he…” Chet stopped, suddenly wondering how open he could be about this, I guess, between the five of us. “Anyway, it turned out it was a lot more fun than I imagined. He was—is—very sweet. Attentive, passionate, kind, and I guess I just never considered it before, like that’s not who I was. But as things progressed, I found out that I was really enjoying myself, being with another man like that.”

“It has its advantages,” I remarked. “To start with, another man already has the same equipment and knows how to take advantage of it.”

“So to speak,” Hoppy added in his deep, powerful tone.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, Terry was very… exuberant. He likes older guys and he told me my salt and pepper hair was very….”

“Wait, how old is Terry?” I asked.

“Oh. Um, he’s… younger… than me.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I said. “I was just curious. Young men have a lot of stamina.”

“No shit,” Chet agreed. “At first it was just nice to be admired like that. He was really complementary about my body and my… parts.”

“You can say dick, Chet. We all have one.”

“Sorry, I’m still not… I haven’t actually… told anyone else about this.”

“Whoa,” Ron said. “So it’s still going on?”

Chet nodded. “I’m not sure if we’re a couple of not. I know he fools around with other men.”

“How do you know,” I asked.

“He… invited me to a three-way with another man at the gym. But I’m not ready for that. I guess I’m pretty vanilla. He was really sweet about it when I turned him down, he even asked if it was okay with me that he still, you know….”

“You like him,” I said.

Now Chet blushed. “I think I do. A lot.”

“Have you discussed this with Terry?”

Chet shook his head. “Again, just out of another relationship, and this is my first same-sex experience. I kind of need to take things slowly, work out what I’m feeling, understand him a lot more. We talk a lot, of course, but mostly it’s just sex.”

“So far,” I said.

“Are you in love with him?” Hoppy asked, hanging his arm over my shoulder again. “Because if you are you should tell him. And I mean open up your phone and call him right now. Don’t waste another second being without him.”

I knew why Hoppy said that, but our circumstances and Chet’s were pretty different, so I said, “You should at least tell him that you’re exclusive with him, and you’re not interested in fooling around.”

“Unless you are,” Hoppy added, smiling.

“I’m… not sure what I want. I’m just happy when we’re together.”

“That sounds nice,” Hoppy said.

“That sounds sick,” Barry added.

“Shut up, Barry,” said Ron.

“Stop fucking telling me to shut up!”

“I will when you stop saying utterly asinine things.”

“So, any surprising same-sex developments in your neck of the woods, Ron? As long as we’re revealing secrets and all.” Hoppy huffed out a laugh when I mentioned secrets.

“Not that I’m aware of, but I probably wouldn’t kick Ned here out of bed.”

“He has that effect on everyone,” I agreed.

“I’m irresistible,” Ned replied, smiling that god damned perfect smile that made my—and possibly Chet’s and Ron’s—dick throb.

Chet asked, “Are…you two exclusive?”

We looked at each other and both of us laughed. “Exclusive? No,” I admitted. “We’re definitely in love and we’re definitely a couple.”

“Trying to keep this stud all to myself? Why would I even try,” Hoppy announced. “I mean… look. At. Him.”

“I’m irresistible,” I echoed.

“Are you asking for any particular reason, Chet?” Hoppy/Ned asked.

“Just… curious,” he answered.

“Uh huh,” Ned said, nodding slightly as his eyes scanned Chet’s slim frame. “So, this Terry. Do you think he’s the jealous type?”

“Jealous?”

“If, for example, speaking hypothetically of course, you hooked up with someone else at, I dunno, your reunion or something, like someone else’s boyfriend who you discovered to be in an open…”

“Very open,” I corrected.

“Very open relationship, and that boyfriend propositioned you at the bar and suggested something like, and this is just off the top of my head, ‘would you care to retire up to my room and explore a bit more about what interests you regarding sex with men, and in particular sex with me, and in even more particular me sucking your dick and you fucking my ass and the two of us’…”

“Or three,” I added.

Hoppy paused, looked at me, smiled and amended, “‘The three of us having an hour or so of naked fun with no strings attached but maybe some leather and a couple of dildos,’ would that be something Terry might object to?”

“Jesus,” Chet whispered, his gaze glued on my boyfriend’s quite prominent cock outline pressing insistently against his trousers.

“That’s not a no,” I observed.

“What if….” Ron started to say. The three of us, Chet, Hoppy and I, looked at him with mixtures of surprise, shock, and arousal. “What if it was a four-way? Is that a thing?”

“Technically that’s approaching an orgy,” Ned clarified. And then he looked at Barry. “Five would make it official.”

“Fuck off,” Barry growled.

“That could be part of the plan, if you just wanted to watch. Are you into a little voyeurism, Barry? Would you be interested in jerking off while Chet, Ron, Hulkster and I were engaged in a little….”

“What did you just call him?”

A chill ran down my spine and my skin heated up. But Hoppy, ever prepared, said, “He told me you used to call him that.”

“Only Hopkins ever called him that,” Barry said.

“Oh?” he answered, managing to look a bit surprised himself.

“Didn’t I mention that part?”

“No,” he said, “you didn’t. So did you and this Hoppy person ever hook up? And where is he this evening anyway?”

“No,” I told Hoppy, “we never did. Not back then. I… didn’t hook up with anyone.”

“Would you have?” he asked, tilting his handsome head, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“I mean…yes. I would have. I loved him.” Hoppy looked like he was about to cry as I declared my love for him in front of these three men who had caused us both so much pain, intentional or not. “Hoppy was the most important…the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Until I came along,” Ned/Hoppy suggested.

“No, Ned, Hoppy will always be my one true love. I loved him, and I love him still.”

“Then where is he?” Barry asked. “If he’s so god damned important to you, and even you don’t even know where he is tonight.”

This was getting a little too strange. Here I was telling my boyfriend ‘Ned’ that I loved Hoppy and that he was the love of my life. And there was Ned smiling at me with so much love in his eyes that it looked like he was going to explode with it at any second.

And then he did, grabbing me into his arms and holding me close, kissing my cheek and my mouth with utter passion and deep longing. “I fucking love you,” he said, softly.

“Gay guys are weird,” Barry announced, watching Ned, my boyfriend, make out with me over the fact that I loved Hoppy, my boyfriend, more than him.

Chet cleared his throat. “Sooooo… sex?”

Hoppy stopped kissing me and was looking at my face, his eyes gazing into mine, and he smiled, and nodded. “Let’s fuck.”

I should spend some time explaining that an elevator is essentially a small, windowless room without any good ventilation which is why one should refrain from farting in them with the exception of traveling with people you have no affection for and want to seek revenge for some reason. Not that I farted or anything while we traveled up to the suite, I merely needed to point out that an elevator generally keeps things out and things in of an olfactory nature with equal facility.

It was a tight fit in the elevator because, as has been observed with some detail, my boyfriend is extremely large in nearly every respect. One assumes a hotel elevator would be large enough to accommodate a family of four and their luggage on their way to their room, but Hoppy was equal to one-and-a-half fairly tall men, and easily two regular men. So there was Hoppy’s bulk, bulging out of its suit, and me, who is a bit taller than average and still, if I’m being generous, rather well developed, and Chet and Ron, who had been football players in school and still maintained a surprisingly ample amount of muscle, judging by the way their clothes fit. So it was a lot of man inside a fairly small space.

Barry, unsurprisingly, did not accompany Chet—who seemed anxious and excited—and Ron—who seemed anxious and scared—up to the penthouse. “Where are the boys?” I asked Hoppy.

“They mentioned something about ‘cam time,’” he answered. “I assume they went to Ne… Nellie’s place.”

“Nellie?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I panicked.”

We were two or three floors away when three things occurred to me in quick succession. Firstly, I felt the now-familiar sexual tang of Hoppy’s intense fuck scent and sex waves permeating the small elevator space. I supposed that whatever experimentation Hoppy and Carver and Ned and Moze had been doing up here while I was away had been very… active. And no one thought to crack a window?

It felt like my skin was suddenly doused in something warm and wet and intoxicating, and I only had an instant of recognition before Chet said, “What the fuck is that?”

I tried to sound innocent. “What the fuck is what?”

Hoppy’s brow furrowed, but then he looked at me and I saw his supple, soft, warm, kissable lips mouth the words, “oh, shit,” as he realized shortly after me what was going on in our nostrils and, shockingly shortly after, our balls and dicks. The second thing that occurred to me was that there was no resisting the intense and saturated power of Hoppy’s fuck funk, which was only growing more intense the higher we rose.

Ron chimed in too, groaning, “Holy Christ! It feels like someone just swallowed my whole dick and balls and somehow also my ass. Like….”

“Like there’s a huge, wet, pliable tongue licking… everything,” Chet agreed.

“Really?” I said. “I hadn’t noticed anything.” My mouth had gone dry and my heart was starting to race and I could feel my libido start to push into the red zone.

Another two floors dinged past and the sensation of pure sex was swelling inside the tiny space.

“Holy fuck! It’s getting stronger! Like… like…”

“Like something got shoved inside my butt and found some kind of like…”

“Like this place where it tingles and throbs and I just…”

We got to the penthouse floor and the elevator stopped and for just a second I thought we were going to get away with it. But then the doors open and any protection we had been afforded by the elevator and the shaft and the lack of ventilation was suddenly stripped away and a thick total wave of Hoppy’s sex scent poured inside like an inundating tsunami of warm, wet, thick, pure, perfect sex.

I had never experienced anything like it. Hoppy must have been like a furnace up here based on the amount of fuck juice that exploded against us like a nuclear bomb made of cock and ass. It was beyond feeling horny. It was so much more than being aroused that I can’t really compare the two sensations. Thick of the horniest you’ve ever been and then on a scale of one to ten turn that up to 100. Imagine feeling something so erotically charged plugged directly into your libido and making you feel like you’re made of pure, unfiltered sex.

“Holy fuck, I think I’m gonna come!”

“Hmm,” Hoppy said, watching the two men trying to manage what was happening to them. “Interesting.” He looked down at Chet’s crotch and licked his lips and said, “Well, no use putting a nice hard-on to waste.” And he sank to his knees and undid Chet’s belt and pulled his zipper down and pried his slacks open and reached in to pull out a rather health length of obviously aroused cock, wasting no time at all to pull Chet’s erection between his warm, soft lips and inside his talented sucking mouth.

In a moment, Chet’s whole body shook and his hands gripped into fists and he nearly lost his legs as he experienced what was obviously a very powerful orgasm as Hoppy sucked with gusto and delight to extract every drop of cum that Chet could produce.

Ron sank back against the elevator wall, closed his eyes, gasped, swooned, made an interesting kind of moaning noise and I watched the groin of his pants darken with surprising speed.

I admit I was more than a little bit jealous that these two men were experiencing sudden, hands-free, and obviously profound orgasms and all we did was ride an elevator towards the room where Hoppy had spent the past day and a half shoving quarts of cum everywhere as his improved body pumped out its intensely erotic pheromones to create what was apparently a sex oven that caused me to spontaneously ejaculate just be being in the vicinity of his sexual escapades.

And we weren’t even in the room, yet. If we could somehow bottle this stuff and sell it on eBay, we’d make a fucking fortune.

Or… another fucking fortune in Hoppy’s case.

Hoppy’s talented mouth was still latched onto Chet’s erection and Chet was moaning, “I’m sorry,” over and over for some reason. I mean, the man had absolutely nothing to be sorry about. His body shook a couple more time with what I assumed were vestiges of his orgasm. He was still coming inside Hoppy’s mouth, and Hoppy hadn’t missed a drop.

“You okay, buddy?” I asked him. “No shame in being excited.”

“I don’t know… I feel like… Holy fuck,” he replied. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

Hoppy was still sucking his joint and moving his palm across Chet’s chest soothingly. I wondered what other special talents Hoppy was employing to help Chet, knowing that if he wanted to, Hoppy could delay Chet’s orgasm or increase its length and strength without hardly trying. I assumed he’d already hopped into Chet’s body and linked up their electromagnetic fields, pumping up the man’s sexual experience into realms of pleasure he’d never imagined before.

Ron was taking deep breaths and moaning softly, a large wet spot spreading even larger on his pants and down his legs. I said, “There’s an enormous shower if you want to get cleaned up,” I said, trying to sound like nothing unusual had happened to him.

“Whuh…what the fuck is happening?” His eyes were closed and his hands were caressing his body, obviously enjoying the sensation of feeling his own muscles and skin as his prick pumped cum inside his skivvies. This was hardly what I imagined would be happening before we even made it into the bedroom and breaking down some barriers. Evidently, Hoppy’s fuck funk was so powerful that it broke down a dude’s defenses without even trying. It would have been ludicrously easy to take advantage of the situation but I’m a nice guy and didn’t want this to lead to anger and regret instead of acceptance and some hot sex.

“You’re okay,” I told Ron. “Everything’s okay.”

“I… I feel weird.”

“Good weird or…?”

“Fucking amazing weird. Like so fucking horny. Never…never felt so horny in my life.” He opened his eyes and looked down at his cum-soaked crotch. “Fuck,” he said softly. “Feels… so… good.”

“Cool,” I said. “Can I… do anything? To help?”

He looked at me and nodded. “Kiss me,” he instructed.

“I mean, sure? But did you want to get more comfortable and more naked first? We’re still standing in the elevator.”

“Kiss me,” he repeated. I shrugged and complied, being a little tentative and polite at first until my high school football friend leaned in and put his hand behind my neck and really fucking kissed me. And, shockingly, the dude could fucking kiss!

I felt a hand on my ass, squeezing my butt, and from the size and strength it could only be Hoppy. The kiss and the butt squeeze combined with Hoppy’s fuck funk and he hopped into me and suddenly I felt Chet’s cock head shoved against the back of my (Hoppy’s) throat and Ron’s tongue exploring my mouth and Hoppy’s hand on my ass. My hand was pushing inside Ron’s pants to fish for his hard on, finding it hot and hard and swimming in a wealth of warm, sticky cum. I squeezed and rubbed him and he throbbed and squirted and moaned into the kiss.

Things were growing very quickly heated. Whatever I had imagined happening between us four dudes, this was definitely a lot more than that. I assumed a lot of awkward foreplay and potentially embarrassing questions but Hoppy’s evolved male sexuality had managed to simply shove all that aside and we were very nearly fucking each other and we hadn’t even managed to leave the elevator yet, which was dinging at us to get out.

Hoppy’s mouth was full of dick so it was left to me to say, “Maybe we’d be more comfortable in the penthouse?” I mean, I said it all sultry and sexy-like, of course. Kind of a husky whisper. We all moved in a more or less sexy shambling stumble into the rooms. Chet’s dick was still hard and drooling pre, Ron was trying to kiss my mouth and abuse my ass, and Hoppy was stripping his perfect muscular body out of his clothes with meticulous care, one assumes because he was anticipating another round of growth and muscular development was going to occur in the midst of all that was happening.

Because the entire floor was supercharged with sex. I felt like a walking penis, huge and hard, throbbing and jerking with need, leaking thick, warm streams of pre, continually aroused like Chet’s cock inside Hoppy’s talented mouth, and all my senses—sight and smell, touch and taste, even the sound of the men moaning and whimpering and grunting with need—were being overstimulated without end. Imagine Disneyland but for sex.

We’d hardly even managed to carry ourselves inside the space when there was a knock at the door and, I shit you not, there was Barry, standing there with a look of intense desire on his face and a hard-on of impressive proportions shoving against the crotch of his pants.

This is the moment that I realized what was actually going on. Hoppy wasn’t just a super-sexed god of pure erotic potential, he was almost irresistible. If Barry—the world’s most homophobic jerk—was standing here on the threshold of ultimate man-sex with a prize winning erection and a look of pure lustful desire on his face—could not resist the attractions of Hoppy’s magnetic appeal, who could?

And, more to the point, who would want to? Hoppy had now stripped naked and had carefully folded his clothes and set them aside. He now stood in the center of the main room like a god, a sex god in his own sex heaven.

He was a nearly seven-foot-tall man with a face that could make you come just to look at it. He was smiling that gorgeous smile on those perfect soft lips with a twinkle in his green gaze that screamed just how badly—and how completely—he wanted to fuck you. His chest was a broad muscular expanse with a forest of dark curls arranged across two massive pectoral masses that showed every thick cable of power stretched across them. Fat, likable nipples sat at the lower edge of each heavy, brawny beach ball like tiny dicks waiting to be sucked. His massive shoulders, the deltoids and traps, stretched wide and high like the Himalayas made of muscle.

A perfect eight-pack of abdominal bulges, like an egg crate, marched down his belly split with a dark trail of fur that spread into a warm, soft crown atop a cock as thick as a Snapple bottle and as long as your forearm. The plump mushroom head, like a plum, drooled warm strands of honey that smelled like fucking. His arms hung at his sides, overwhelmed with veiny muscle, as he slowly breathed, sucking in the strong masculine tang of his own scent, a powerful sensation that redoubled his overwhelming male eroticism like turning up the audio system inside your car going 120 MPH so loud that nothing else registered, the bass rumbling in your ass as the treble shook your cock until it was throbbing so hard you thought it would explode.

“So,” he said, folding his massive arms across his huge chest, making all his muscles bulge and swell into fantastic and mind-bending distinction as his dick throbbed with heavy pulses and swelled in length and thickness with unbelievable size and speed, “who’s ready to have some fun?”


I would love to provide a play-by-play of the next hour or so of our five-way sexcapades but frankly it was all a bit of a fog. A fog made of balls and ass and cocks and nipples and fur and lips and hands and fucking and sucking and it was all non-stop and constant and involved pumping so much cum it was like fucking in a cream factory.

I can offer these few observations: Chet was surprisingly versatile. He had a lean, athletic body with long limbs and a mouth that would not quit. The man loves kissing and sucking on…just about any part of your body that you wanted to provide to him. Ron liked being fucked, but that might be due to Hoppy’s magic dick because when he pushes it deep inside you and starts vibrating like a jackhammer it’s easy to lose control and want to just live in that situation forever. But I had to hand it to him for even attempting to take on Hoppy’s monster and riding it for I’m gonna guesstimate about fifteen full minutes. I mean, that thing is a baseball bat, let’s not kid ourselves.

Finally, and most surprisingly, there was Barry. Barry, comically, was a bear. Barry the Bear. His body was a collection of big round parts. A big ass, a big belly, a big chest, just lots of big everything. Big, furry, and he likes his sex sloppy and loud. The man has a filthy, filthy mouth when he gets going, and quite a colorful variety of positions that he seems to enjoy. He has a furry, furry butt that liked being licked, and a fat, leaky cock which…he also likes being licked. I mean, Barry and Chet got along like a house on fire what with Chet’s love of using his mouth, tongue, and lips on every conceivable body part and Barry’s desire for every conceivable body part to be licked, sucked, and kissed.

There’s a common theory that the most homophobic of men are, in fact, the men most attracted to homosexuality, and I don’t want to be smug and self-satisfied but damn if Barry was not a dude who really, really enjoyed having sex with other dudes. Was he going to be tortured by regret and shame later after coming out of our Hoppy-induced sex heaven or would he realize that he enjoyed what happened and was, um, exceptionally good at fucking another man’s butt hole?

Only time would tell, but I wasn’t looking forward to post-coital conversation with a regretful, shame-filled, and likely very angry Bear. But something told me that he was going to argue that if nobody stuck their prick in his ass, he wasn’t technically bi. But whatever. The man sucked my cock and swallowed my thick load so I think there’s a smidge of debate in there.

But I was imagining the fun we all could have had in high school! Instead of them being all mean and shit, we could have retired to the locker room after a particularly rough and sweaty game and been fucking each others’ brains out like young men are supposed to be doing.

But I think we made up for it in the penthouse with Hoppy’s impressive help.

Speaking of Hoppy, the man was in overdrive. If I thought he was a horndog before, he was reaching impressive new heights of sexual capacity and capability with four sexed up men of a certain age all doing our utmost to make sure everyone was as satisfied and aroused as we were ourselves.

At some point, his lips reached my ears and I heard him speak those two words which had become loaded with promise and potential: “It’s happening.”

I’m not certain if any of the other men realized that Hoppy was growing while we were tangled up in each other, but I could feel his muscles swelling and his limbs and cock stretching inches larger as our sweaty bodies kept pumping cum and experiencing his hopped-into sensations of multiple sexual couplings. Being drunk or intoxicated on Hoppy’s evolutionarily developed super sexuality as it penetrated us with his scent and magnetic field meant that I could feel what he felt as he started growing even bigger and more powerful, all during a non-stop celebration of powerful man sex as our butts and dicks and mouths and skin were collectively feeling more intense erotic pleasure than any normal human being had a right to.

After we were done, which only occurred because Hoppy was hungry again after swelling with more muscle and dick, there was a slightly awkward portion of time in which we all tried to find our clothes from a pile—which, come on, we’ve all been there—and no one made eye contact as we collectively came to grips with having sex with high school friends we hadn’t seen in years who also, I have to add, totally shamed me for having pictures of naked men.

“So,” Chet said after pulling his suit jacket back on, “that happened.”

“Agreed, that totally did,” Ron totally agreed.

Hoppy was just standing there naked, grinning at us. To my eyes, he didn’t appear to be bigger even though I knew that he was, because I’d felt it. I suppose that’s just as well because explaining that on top of everything else that happened between us—the tidal wave of sex that struck us, the loss of self-control that led to a five-way orgy involving high school friends, the presence of a man so beautiful and powerful and well-endowed and overpoweringly sexy that he could control our libidos and cocks and balls to keep us pumping cum like we were made of it—would be the bridge too far.

It was like Hoppy was a wizard and we were all Muggles, pretending magic didn’t exist because it would be too hard to accept. And there he was in all his perfect naked glory just standing there like this happens all the time, like men who looked like that with huge, perfect cocks and massive cum-filled balls endowed with a limitless libido who could plug into your physical state and amplify your own sexual experiences to a level you could barely withstand and then suspend you there, in that state of perfect, endless, boundless, gorgeous, overwhelming sex for as long as he wanted to, which apparently ended when he was hungry again.

“That was fun,” he said. His voice was a deep rumble and it resounded on my eardrums like a tongue licking my hard cock.

I looked at Barry, expecting him to say something inappropriately homophobic or to deny he was even in the room while we were all naked and sucking each other’s cocks, but he merely sat there looking stunned. He managed to get his pants back on but his shirt was half-on, half-off and he refused to look at anything except the floor.

“I think we broke Barry,” Ron said.

“If anyone broke Barry it was Ned,” Chet suggested. “I mean, I’ve never seen anyone enjoy fucking someone else that much.”

“What can I say, I’m amazing,” Hoppy said, grinning broadly.

“You’re still naked,” I pointed out.

He looked down at his amazing perfect body and shrugged. “Are you complaining?”

“Not necessarily. I guess I’m wondering if you’re waiting for round two or…”

“Technically it would be round three,” Chet said.

“How is it round three?” Ron asked.

“I feel like round one was when we were still in the elevator and Ned was sucking my dick and you and Alex were making out.”

“Making out is not sex,” Ron protested. “Plus, we weren’t naked and I don’t think you can have an orgy with your pants on.”

“I…”

It was Barry, and with a single word he stopped us all cold. We all turned to look at him in his pants and half his shirt, sitting in a chair leaning over his knees like he was about to throw up. None of us said a word as we awaited whatever that asshole wanted to say.

“I’m…sorry,” is what eventually came out.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Hoppy said. “You fucked me raw and I loved every minute of it. You’re quite a fucker, Barry.”

“I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s good to lose control,” I said.

“I didn’t lose control,” Barry said. “That was…the most amazing sexual experience of my entire life.”

“And now you’re afraid you’re gay,” I said without thinking.

“I don’t know what happened.”

“I know what happened,” Hoppy said. “You finally relaxed and allowed yourself to have some fun and do whatever you wanted to with some partners who were into it as much as you were. You’re not gay or straight or any other label. You like to fuck. You like having your butt hole licked. You like feeling muscles—mine, in particular, but also Hulkster’s—and I bet you also like vaginas and boobs and women with soft skin. I wouldn’t worry so much about liking what you like, Barry. Just enjoy yourself and be honest.”

“I do enjoy vaginas,” he admitted. “Like, I really, really enjoy them.”

“Word,” Ron agreed.

Holy fuck. Had Hoppy just managed to talk Barry off the ledge and convince him he was okay?

I looked at Barry waiting for an explosion or like tears or something, but instead he just raised his head and looked at my perfect naked boyfriend and said, “Damn, you are the hottest motherfucker walking the planet.”

“Guilty,” Hoppy agreed, his massive cock throbbing with a sudden, sexy jerk.

“Hey!” I objected.

“And you’re the second sexiest motherfucker,” Hoppy/Ned told me, winking.

I looked at him standing there looking good enough to eat and swallow and feel his cock shoving deep inside me pumping quarts of cum like a soft-serv machine and said, “I’ll take it.”

“How do you do that, by the way?” Ron asked, pointing at Hoppy’s massive shank of sex meat.

“How do I do what?”

“Make your dick vibrate.”

“He does what now?” Barry asked, suddenly interested in having Hoppy fuck him, I guess?

Hoppy/Ned merely smiled enigmatically and shrugged. “Just something I picked up somewhere.”

“Everyone has special talents,” I added quickly, trying to diffuse the situation about Hoppy’s magically vibrating cock.

“But it sincerely felt like your dick was vibrating. Like a vibrator.”

“Thanks,” Hoppy said, doffing Ron a salute. “It has to do with my pelvic floor muscles and kegels. Plus, I get a lot of practice fucking.”

They all looked at me and I blushed deeply. “He does,” I agreed. “A lot.”

“Phwar,” Ron phwared, impressed.

“Yeah, and what was that amazing thing you did when I was fucking you,” Barry asked, evidently over any embarrassment he was feeling regarding the situation.

“Which thing in particular? I do a lot of amazing things.”

“The thing where it felt almost as if your butt was sucking my cock.”

“His butt does what now?” Ron asked, who had spent most of the session getting fucked rather than getting to fuck.

“Yeah, it feels like his ass was sucking my dick, like a throat and a mouth. Like, it really, really felt like that.”

Hoppy shrugged again. “Again, it’s just muscle control and… practice. I’m sure if you wanted to, your butt could suck on a dick too.”

“Your butt can suck my dick any time, Barry,” Chet said, winking.

“Fuck you,” Barry said, reverting to old Barry.

“I think you already did,” Ron stated.

The food arrived shortly and all of us dug in, as there was, again, a lot of it. Hoppy managed to eat about half of it all by himself, staying resolutely and gorgeously naked the entire time. At some point I got a text from the real Ned with a link to his stream and a still photo with him smiling at the camera with a sweaty, glistening, naked Moze posed behind him evidently fucking his ass. I showed it to Hoppy who nodded appreciatively and passed the phone around to the others.

“Who the fuck is this and why is he sending you a fuck selfie?” Chet asked.

“More to the point, who’s the stud fucking him and where do I sign up?” Ron added.

“Jesus,” Barry said. “Do you get these a lot?” he asked, handing me my phone back.

“Not nearly enough, sadly,” I said, taking another look and feeling my dick twitch. Then I looked at Barry and said, “You seem to be adjusting to all this fairly well.”

“I’m as surprised as anyone,” he responded.

“Great sex has a habit of leveling the playing field,” I observed, sagely.

“That wasn’t just great sex, that was phenomenal sex. Other worldly. Godlike.”

“Thanks,” Hoppy replied. “I do what I can.”

“I think that was a compliment for all of us,” I pointed out.

“Oh. Was it?” Hoppy was enjoying this immensely.

“I, for one, am genuinely shocked over this,” Chet said, pushing his plate away.

“Which part?”

“All of it! Who here imagined that our reunion was going to include amazing sex with the Musketeers and this amazing, gorgeous, incredibly talented mass of muscular perfection which, by the way, did you work out at some point during the orgy? Because you look amazing,” he said to Hoppy. “Well, more amazing. I swear those pecs are bigger.”

Hoppy made his chest dance seductively and grinned down at his huge furry, muscular globes. “I think they are bigger! What do you think, Alexander? Do you think my pecs are bigger?”

I clapped my hands together and said, “So! Shouldn’t we be getting back to the reunion? Thingie? Downstairs?”

Hoppy continued making his chest dance. “Seriously, I think they’re bigger.”

“I’m…kinda horny still?” Chet announced.

“I wouldn’t mind round two,” Ron agreed.

“I mean, if everyone else insists,” Barry added.

“Fuck,” I said.

“My thoughts exactly!” Hoppy announced.

To say that round two was better than round one is like saying that a 10mg chocolate edible indica-heavy hybrid is better than being kicked in the ’nads.

Spoilers, fucking the guy who made my life hell in high school, AKA Barry the Bear, certainly added to its appeal, even though I think revenge sex is a waste of a good fuck and I’d much rather push my dick inside someone who wasn’t whining and cringing and begging all at the same time, but it was what it was.

Barry wasn’t a great lay, no surprise there. The surprise was that he was willing and, yes, anxious to try bottoming and of all the men there he wanted me to do it! I mean, talk about loading the dice, am I right? The dude who mocks and shames you during your most vulnerable sexual time asks you years later to deflower his virgin hole, what, am I going to say no?

I considered asking Hoppy to do it with his big ol’ monster cock which, I needn’t mention, throbs like a son of a bitch, leaks natural lube like a honey dripper, and feels like being fucked by the most amazing and powerful vibrating sex toy known to man, but it’s certainly not a tool anyone would select to pry open a tight ass that’s never even had a finger inserted up to the first knuckle. I mean, it might have been justice to watch Barry bent over as Hoppy’s foot-long mass of perfect sex was deeply thrusting itself over and over, but at the same time I didn’t want Barry to think that Hoppy’s miraculous cock was what everyone got to experience the first time.

The fact that he even broached the subject with me was a shock. There we were going at it, dicks in holes, mouths sucking balls, tongues licking asses when Barry’s sweaty, bearded face appears and he says those two magic words, “Fuck me.”

“Really?” I replied, both shocked and incredulous. Barry wanted to be fucked? And he wanted me to fuck him? I guess Hoppy’s magic magnetic network really was magic in addition to being magnetic. Or whatever.

“I want to know what it feels like,” he said roughly as he pushed his own rather girthy member into my boyfriend’s blow-job providing asshole.

“It feels like you’re being fucked,” is what I told him, because how else was I supposed to describe it? I was a bit angry at this turn of events, like the bully suddenly wanted to be part of the cool kids’ club even though he’d spent the whole school year making fun of us, but that anger also manifested as a strong feeling of retaliation that I didn’t even know I was holding on to.

Hoppy looked at me as he heard Barry’s request with an elegant eyebrow arched. I didn’t know what he was feeling about the situation and there wasn’t a lot of time to ask, seeing as how our limbs and cocks and butts and mouths were all rather engaged in one thing or another at the time. Also, I kind of wanted to prove something to Barry which was that getting fucked had zero to do with one’s adequacy as a man, or one’s manhood or masculinity or whatever I imagined his reasons for hating me and my homosexual ways.

“You want me to fuck you,” I repeated, just to be perfectly clear. He nodded, either unable to verbalize his request again or because Hoppy was doing something so amazing that it made Barry’s eyes roll up in their sockets and bite his lip so hard I was amazed he didn’t draw blood.

So I said, “I can’t fuck you while you’re busy fucking my boyfriend,” which wasn’t entirely true but that particular maneuver is difficult for even the most seasoned of buttfuckers to successfully pull off. Me and Hoppy and Ned and Moze could daisy chain without even thinking about it, but Barry fucking Hoppy while I fucked Barry? Such things are where comedy is born.

He swallowed drily, nodded with reluctance, and extracted his thick, wet prick from Hoppy’s butt. Hoppy the sex god, being Hoppy the sex god, took it in stride but kept his eyes on us while I started trying to manage Barry’s big bear body into a suitable fucking position.

I tried fingering his hole with a spit-covered digit but to say that the man was tight is like saying a diamond is hard. “You gotta relax,” I told him, and he nodded and kind of grimaced or something. I slapped his butt pretty hard, and practically shouted “Relax your ass!”

Which immediately drew the attention of the other two members of our on-going reunion orgy and everything stopped with the suddenness of a bus meeting a brick wall. “Wait,” Chet said, almost laughing, “is this really happening?”

“Holy fuck!” Ron whispered. “Holy fucking fuck.”

Barry’s whole furry body colored when he realized he’d been caught. “Never mind,” he said.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” I responded. “We are doing this.”

Barry, who was currently posed on all fours with his butt shoved towards me twisted his head around with a look of shame and fear. “I don’t want to,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” Ron told him. “It feels good and—you should excuse the expression—it’ll open you up to a whole new world of pleasure.”

“He’s scared,” Chet observed.

“Rightfully so,” Ron said. “I mean, Alex has a big boner.”

This was true. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Barry, this is probably going to hurt. Like, a lot.” I said this with my big boner poised at his back door dripping pre on his tight hairy hole and the strong sexual buzz of Hoppy’s sex stank driving me into a sex fever of insane proportions. I mean, I really, really wanted to fuck something. Additionally, my instinct was to just shove myself in and fuck the shit out of him while mouthing something like “This is what it feels like when your friend fucks you, Barry! Does it feel good, Barry? Huh? Do you like being fucked by your friend?”

Instead, I grabbed myself and rubbed off a slick supply of pre and rubbed it on his hole, which quivered and winked and tightened against my very slight introduction. Chet, who had been fucking Ron, and Ron, who had been sucking Hoppy, also stopped what they were doing and sat back on their butts to watch me on my knees behind Barry in the doggy position as I grabbed his wide hips and rubbed warm, funky honey on his virgin hole.

“Holy fuck,” Ron whispered again. “This is really happening.”

I earned down over Barry’s thick body and said into his ear, “I’m very good at this.”

Hoppy nodded and said, “He really is.” Then his head tilted and he added, remembering that Barry’s dick had only recently been inside his own ass, “I mean, you’re no slouch. You’re very energetic and can keep a hard on with the best of them—and I should know because I’ve had the best of them, whose name is Moze….”

“Hey!” I protested.

Hoppy looked at me as he stroked his still-hard foot-high, bottle-thick, honey drooling prick. “I mean, you’re great, baby, but I think we can both agree that when it comes to fucking an ass, Moze is like a butt savant or something.” I shrugged and agreed, albeit with grudging hesitation. “But Moze is like a Formula One driver and, no offense, but you still have your training wheels on and I think Alexander knows how to be gentle.”

“I do?” I asked, honestly surprised.

He nodded back at me. “You’re an amazing lover, in addition to being an amazing fucker.”

“This ain’t about love,” Barry argued, allowing his homophobia to resurface.

“Fuck no, this ain’t about love,” I echoed.

“Figure of speech,” Hoppy replied. “Fucking someone and making love to someone can be the same thing, but in this case—and I think we can all agree—a gentle and patient touch is necessary.”

“I, um, could use some help,” I said, looking at Hoppy and trying to convey the kind of help I needed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, he’s not shoving that thing in my ass,” Barry said, referring to Hoppy’s monster.

“Different kind of help,” I said, thinking fast about revealing Hoppy’s special talents without revealing Hoppy’s special talents. “A… gentle massage? Sometimes helps relax someone.”

“Massage?” Hoppy asked, still stroking himself.

“Yes, a massage, with your hands on his shoulders? Touching him?”

“Oh. Oh! A massage!” He looked at Ron and said, “Would you mind fucking me while I massaged Barry?”

“You want me to fuck you.”

Hoppy nodded. “While I massage Barry. I… massage better when I’m getting fucked.” I realized suddenly that in order for Hoppy to hop into Barry and pass along his sexual sensations to potentially ‘ease the way’, he had to be experiencing some sexual sensation in the first place, and that the sensation would need to be a dick in his talented and welcoming ass.

“I mean, sure? You have the most amazing ass I’ve ever met. Not that I’ve, you know, met a lot of asses.”

“Is mine the first ass you fucked?”

“No! No. Yours is the first man ass I’ve fucked, though.”

“What should I do?” Chet asked. This was turning into a very awkward situation.

Hoppy thought for a moment, considering the layout. “Hmm, well if I’m facing Barry massaging his shoulders while Ron fucks me and Alexander fucks Barry, perhaps you would be so kind as to suck my dick?”

“Oh! God, yes, I would love to suck your dick, Ned. Thanks for asking!”

“Don’t mention it. So Barry you move back a little so I can assume the position here. Right, and Ron you’re behind me, Alexander is behind Barry, and then Chet, you’re lying under Barry and me with your mouth… exactly! Perfect.”

“Chet’s dick is rubbing my belly,” Barry observed.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “that’s not gay.”

“Okay, is everybody ready?” Hoppy asked.

“This seems like a lot of work just so Barry can get his cherry popped,” Ron said.

“No good deed ever goes unrewarded,” Hoppy observed.

Ron’s lips twisted into a grimace. “I thought it was no good deed ever goes unpunished.”

“I’m paraphrasing.”

“Ah.”

“Are you ready?” Ron asked Hoppy/Ned.

“I’m always ready,” he reported.

“Truer words were never spoken,” I added. Hoppy scowled slightly until I added, “Which is just another reason why I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Hulkster,” he said.

“I wish you’d stop calling him that, it freaks me out,” Barry reported.

Hoppy just grinned mischievously. “And… go!”


It wasn’t the most romantic or passionate fuck I ever participated in, but it was certainly one of the most acrobatic. And with all the players entered into Hoppy’s sex network, and with Hoppy turning up his dials to ten and linking everything everyone was feeling into one big fuck fest of dicks in asses (and mouths, in Chet’s case) things went pretty smoothly all things considered.

I don’t know what Barry was experiencing but the man was groaning and whimpering with pleasure before I ever stuck the head of my prick in his hole. Ron, of course, thrust home in Hoppy’s warm, perfect butt with his first push and Chet was making wet, sloppy, satisfying sounds sucking as much of Hoppy’s massive cock as he could manage from below, while Hoppy shared the sensation of being simultaneously fucked and sucked with the rest of us.

I recognized what was happening because I was so familiar with it. The others were either too far gone in bliss to understand that they could feel their own asses getting fucked when they weren’t actually getting fucked and their own cocks getting sucked when they weren’t actually getting sucked, but with Hoppy’s redolent and irresistible fuck stank filling the room and masking our senses and Hoppy’s sex net plugged into our collective libidos and amplified as high as it could go—which, let me emphasize, was ludicrously powerful and almost made me start pumping cum before I even got inside Barry’s broad buttocks—it was probably the best and most satisfying first butt fuck that any dude had ever experienced.

The five of us were like, and this is probably gross but it’s also apropos, the Human Centipede of fucking. Our bodies moved in unison and Barry even started making out with Hoppy and his long, pliable tongue as I worked my way inside the tight, one might even say vice-like, heat of his ass.

Barry had a bubble butt. Like, round and thick and massive. An almost comically massive ass. A butt meant to slapped and bounced and admired, covered in fur with a very thick forest of wet, dark curls surrounding his unmanicured hole. It was a filthy fuck in the best way, without any accidents of the sort that sometimes occurs when fucking someone’s butt if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

He’d always been blessed with an ample ass, even when we were in school and he was in much better shape. I’ll freely admit—though not to him—that I had a few wank sessions in which Barry’s bubble butt played a starring role. Seeing his ass encased in those tight lace-up football pants? Sproi-oi-oi-oing! And here I was, years later, naked, shoving my boner into Barry’s bubble butt and loving every minute of it.

So, inevitably, I had to face the part of the butt fuck that I forgot to ask Barry about which was did he want me to come in his ass? We’d been at it for like an hour, which in butt fuck terms is an eternity, usually, but Barry was groaning and whimpering and mouthing the most disgusting and awesome filth about what I could do to him (and, okay, was doing to him) when I felt the dam beginning to burst and no matter how much help Hoppy was attempting to give to all of us at once, sometimes Mr. Happy needs to blow his top.

So with my slick, steel-hard cock sliding in and out of his no-longer-virginal hole and strong, insisted tingles of pure sex radiating out into my body and my butt feeling Hoppy’s ass getting well and truly fucked by Ron and my dick feeling Hoppy’s cock getting sucked and stroked and licked and kissed by Chet’s cock-starved mouth and tongue I leaned down and groaned into Berry’s ear, sliding across his hairy, sweat-slick back, “I’m gonna come.”

“Fucking come,” he told me. “Flood my ass with cum. Fuck me so deep I can taste it on my tongue. Shove your fat dick in to your balls and unload every fucking drop of hot, sticky cum in my fat ass. Make me your cum dump bitch.”

Well. Okay.

So, I did that. Which felt amazing. Making Barry my cum dump bitch. And I guess Hoppy realized within the sex net that I was coming, so he started coming, which made Chet start coming, and Barry came, and so did Chet, and we were all coming at the same time, and it multiplied the sensation of orgasm by like 500% and holy fuck that was awesome.


The well-used and abused shower (which was becoming my other best friend after Hoppy considering how much time I spent with its many talented nozzles) got another workout and we even played some ass grab and towel snapping just like when we were all horny teenagers in the locker room showers after a game.

By this time it was pretty late—or pretty early, depending on your point of view. All three of our guests had multiple messages waiting on their perspective cells, all from their partners and wives wondering where the fuck they’d gotten to except for Chet whose texts from Terry included some fairly impressive dick pics. We agreed that what happens in Barry stays in Barry and they made our way back downstairs to the ball room while Hoppy and I stayed in the penthouse so I could tell Hoppy something important while we were finally, unusually alone.

Which was this.

“I don’t want to lie about who you are and that you and me are together. I don’t want you to introduce yourself as Ned. I want you to be my Hoppy and me to be your Hulkster, and whatever this means, the thing where you keep getting more beautiful and sexier and stronger and bigger and better and I just stay… me, I don’t want that to get in the way of us. We two. Together. Forever.”

He had tears in his eyes, which god damn it made him look even more beautiful. “I want that, too. I want you on my arm at the Nobels. When I wake up, the first thing I want to see is your face.”

“Is it okay if my face is sucking your dick?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

I kissed him again.

When we separated this time, he had an odd look on his handsome face, and I knew something was up. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You have a look on your face that tells me either you have good news or bad news.”

“I… don’t know if it’s good or bad. But I do have some news.”

“Okay.”

“I… um… when we… that is, when Moze and Ned and Carver and I were playing around, I think..no, I know I discovered something. Something new.”

“Okay,” I repeated, ready for pretty much anything at this point.

He held out his hands and nodded, so I took his hands in mine (Jesus! Big hands!) and we gripped each other lightly. Then he half-smiled at me and took in a slow, deep breath and said, “It’s happening.”

My eyes went wide and my mouth dropped open as I felt his palms suddenly warm up against my skin and I could feel his hands changing. Or moving. As if he was pulling away but then I realized that what I was feeling was his hands growing very subtly larger in my grip.

I looked down and then I looked up, and watched his face slowly begin rising taller and his chest was welling—the deep crevasse between his mammoth pectoral globes was shrinking as each muscular mountain swelled forward and grew wider, pushing his dark nipples towards the floor and the thick dark carpet of curls began to spread further across his expanding chest.

Hoppy was growing again. Changing. Improving. It was subtle, and it was slow, but it was constant and it was definite. I looked down to watch his ab wall, as each of his eight distinct muscular bulges…bulged. Then I watched his monster cock begin to lengthen and swell with more size and bulk and heft. “I’m doing it,” he said, and then he groaned with a deeply satisfying sound, and closed his eyes and said, “and it feels. So. Good.”

“You can… you’re… you…”

He opened his eyes and winked at me. “I’m learning to blink when I want to,” he said. “And I can blink myself bigger.”

He continued growing more massive and muscular and taller and wider and after about half-an-inch of height and who knows how many additional pounds of muscle and cock, the growth slowed and the warmth in his hands dimmed and I looked up at him, slightly taller, slightly bigger, slightly sexier than ever.

“Holy fuck,” I said, because what else was I supposed to say?

He let go of my hands and shrugged slightly. “You didn’t even notice that I was bigger when I met you downstairs.”

“It’s getting harder to tell unless I see it happen,” I explained. “You’re already the most beautiful and probably the most muscular man on the planet. Getting handsomer and bigger now is just more subtle I guess. But god damn, Hoppy! How big are you going to get?”

“How…big do you want me to get?” He put his hand on mine and guided my grip to his now larger prick. I ran my hand along him and he groaned again, like a bear, and I tried to surround his gargantuan length of solid sex in my hand and squeezed him. A thick drop of pre appeared at the mouth of his cock and quickly swelled, growing so copious that it was drooling onto the carpet. His dick was thick and warm and firm, pulsing with obvious need and power, and I could already feel him growing warmer as blood began to inflate his massive shank back to full power again.

We stood there as I held him, feeling his sex growing with power and size in my hand, throbbing and drooling and filling the room with his redolent fuck scent again, stinging my nostrils and making my own dick rapidly inflate.

“More,” I said.

He smiled and closed his eyes and I felt his dick begin to swell more rapidly. I watched his face resolve itself into an even more gorgeous version of Hoppy, his beard was growing along his sculpted jawline and his neck thickened with more muscle. His shoulders were rising and spreading wider than ever. His biceps and triceps bulged outward under his sleek, silken skin, fatter and thicker with muscle. His pecs swelled forward, so large now that I doubted his old shirt could be buttoned up across their mass.

And I had to confess that it turned me on in ways that I hadn’t considered before. The thought that he asked me to guide his growth, to tell him when enough was enough, that I could now simply say, at any time and in any place, that I wanted him bigger and he would do it. I mean… holy fuck.

“More?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking at me.

“More,” I said again.

His head rose another half-an-inch higher. His dick grew another half-an-inch longer and another half-an-inch thicker. His whole massive muscular frame was very slowly swelling with additional muscle. I’m sure his ass was now two massive swollen muscular bulges jutting out behind him like beach balls.

He was incredibly handsome, almost unbelievably so. Beyond any male model or porn star I had ever seen. He smiled and I felt my dick throb. He licked his full, warm lips and my balls sizzled. His cock began to vibrate in my grip, so strong with throbbing tremors it was almost hard to hold onto him.

“Whatever makes you happy makes me happy,” I told him. “If you want to stop now, or if you want to keep going to see how far this road extends, either way I’m going to be there with you.”

“I know you are,” he said, wrapping his strong, muscular arms around me and pulling my in to his massive, incredible pecs. I tried wrapping my arms around him but he was just so huge now I simply held his thick, wide lats and inhaled his sexy stink. He looked down at me and said, “And I’m going to take you with me.” His cock pulsed and throbbed between us. “I’ve done the initial calculations. All I need is a DNA sample from you and I can plug you in to the process when we get back home.”

“DNA sample, huh?”

He laughed warmly. “Yeah, can you think of something we could do that might yield up a thick, warm, sticky sample of yourself?”

“Maybe,” I said, already feeling near to coming a fat pump of cream all over him. “So you… and I…?”

He nodded. “Together. Forever.”

Update posts:
Weekly Update: 27 February 2021Weekly Update: 6 March 2021Weekly Update: 13 March 2021Weekly Update: 20 March 2021Weekly Update: 27 March 2021Weekly Update: 3 April 2021Weekly Update: 10 April 2021Weekly Update*: 17 April 2021Weekly Update: 8 May 2021Weekly Update: 22 May 2021Weekly Update: 19 JuneWeekly Update: 10 July 2021

Flashback posts:
Friday Flashback: Seven Footers

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