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• Latest update: 7 September. Next update: 21 September. (Submissions welcome.)

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• Latest from BRK: “Shadow and flame”, Part 5; “The box”, Part 8.

 

Derek looked at Scott’s cell phone and asked again, “You really think this’ll work?”

Scott shrugged as he searched through his directory for Albert’s contact info. “Worth a shot, don’t you think?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, sure… if you think it’ll work.”

Scott raised his blue eyed gaze at his darker skinned lover, looking at his chiseled features through the stray locks of red-blonde hair falling across his own brow. He could smell Derek’s masculine scent strongly, sensing his deep arousal, and it made both his cocks twitch and swell. A subtle throb of sexual hunger erupted along each fat shank of prick hanging between his heavily muscled thighs, and the fat nipples perched at the lower edge of his mammoth pectoral globes tingled sweetly. “What the fuck, right?” He looked back down at the small phone is his huge paw. “Couldn’t hurt.”

Derek nodded and grinned as he absently tugged at the waistband of his sweats. His own heavy cocks were shoving against the material and causing his pants to sag low on his narrow hips. A cool Spring breeze crept between the muscled globes of his ass and licked at his moist, warm hole, and he bit his lower lip in an unconscious attempt to suppress his overanxious libido, which was never fully satisfied.

Both teenaged muscle monsters were shirtless, wearing only cotton sweatpants that clung to the bulging masses of brawn that lined their legs, and suctioned against their twin sets of dual pricks, one freshly grown to exactly match the other one’s enormity and insatiable nature. The bulges at their loins were further plumped by their fat balls, steadily producing endless floods of hot, sticky cream, and swollen with the power to instantly transform other boys into hyper-masculine, over-sexed, over-muscled, twin-dicked wonders like themselves.

All it took was a little swallow of the copious flood of cum that each of them, and any one of the other members of Muscle Club, could produce almost at will and with little or no manipulation to alter any male it came in contact with in a matter of minutes. But their goal today was something different—something that Scott had been toying with and wondering about.

He had begun along the trail to superhuman strength and beauty by watching a small, simple pornographic video on his computer. He watched it numerous times, and each time he grew a little bigger, a little stronger, a little more muscular and a little more horny. His cock stretched and his balls swelled and his muscles grew fatter and firmer and stronger just by watching the image of a man sucking his own monster cock and delivering some kind of magic through the camera directly into Scott’s, and then Derek’s, bodies.

And now he was wondering if he could do that, too.

They were outside in the sunshine, under the branches of a tree on a long, wide stretch of grass near the school’s baseball diamond. Derek was standing over Scott, who had his back against the tree’s trunk as he looked through the names in his phone’s directory, the dual serpents in his pants spilling forward between his legs inside his sweats. The wind caught Derek’s wealth of dark locks and sent them wafting gently. He closed his eyes to more deeply sense the caress of cool wind across his exposed flesh and felt his nipples harden and plump, aching to be manhandled. He lifted his heavily-muscled arms and clasped his hands behind his neck, stretching his chest and pushing his mammoth biceps into fat balls of hard brawn. His scent rose on the wind and surrounded the young men with his unique smell of smoke, sweat, wet leather and sweet honey. Scott pulled the scent deeply inside like perfume and his cocks swelled in joyful recognition of his lover’s presence. “You’re distracting me,” he said, but he was smiling.

Derek smiled back and winked. “Like that’s a challenge.” He kneeled down and pulled Scott’s lips to his own, pushing his tongue inside Scott’s warm, wet mouth and kissed him deeply. “Besides, maybe this is part of it.”

Scott’s eyebrow arched and he asked, “What do you mean?”

“When that dude sent us the signal through his video, he wasn’t just sitting there twiddling his thumbs. The dude was sucking his own joint and going to town on his fucking cock, right? He was definitely fully engaged in himself. Maybe you need to be, like, active about this.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Derek rose to his feet again and said, “Stand up.”

Scott did. “Now what?”

“Take off those pants.”

Scott’s face registered a moment of shock. “Out here? In the open?”

“Fuck yeah, bro. What, you chicken or something?”

Scott’s grin grew brighter and he started shoving his sweats off his hips. His cocks were already swollen thick and starting to arch upward. He shook his legs to send the pants to the ground, the immense set of muscles mounted on his thighs wagged and waved before his tensed them and they coalesced into hard, striated wedges of brawn. The pubic forest above his equipment was honey-colored like the shaggy mane atop his head and the soft carpet of curls that erupted in the deep crevasse between his pecs.

Derek’s talented hands grabbed his pricks, one in each paw, and he gently and eagerly began to stroke his lover’s twins, feeling their heat increase as they quickly hardened and swelled enormously under his attentions. “You bigger?” he asked, holding Scott’s fat cocks in the warm palms of his hands before squeezing them hard. It seemed that he was so familiar with Scott’s hard-ons, he could tell if they had changed with just a touch.

Scott shrugged after he came back down off his toes. “Probably. I stopped measuring.” He put his hand behind Derek’s neck and pulled him into another passionate kiss. “Fuck, that feels good,” he whispered.

Derek grinned. “I know what you like.” He left Scott’s plumping cocks throbbing as he lifted his hands to his tongue and licked a thick, wet trail of spit across his palms. Then he moved them back to Scott’s foot-high erections and started slowly stroking them. Sudden gobs of precum erupted from each tip and flowed across his hands like warm honey, and Scott’s sexual scent rose to mingle with his own. “Feel good?”

“Fuck yeah,” Scott said, his eyes closed as he luxuriated in Derek’s touch.

“Don’t you have a phone call to make?”


Albert Johnson was a nerd, there were no two ways around that. He was almost laughably stereotypical, provided with the requisite thick glasses, braced teeth, unruly hair, pimples, freckles and poor clothing choices. He didn’t think about his body much, if at all, would never be known as a jock in any sense of the word, and had literally never been kissed.

On the bright side, Albert was extremely smart, extremely fast-witted, funny when given a chance and had somehow managed to grow up with a fairly decent sense of self confidence about himself. He was happy to help out when asked, never really thought of himself as a loser, and spent more time reading than watching TV or listening to music.

He had tutored Scott at his house, and truthfully he probably would’ve been nervous around the other young man if he stopped to consider his feelings, but he generally dismissed them in favor of his ideas and thoughts. Maybe he was already gay, maybe he was bisexual, maybe he wasn’t anything at all except a very large brain attached randomly to limbs and body and face that it used to move around, and not much more than that.

Sure, every once in a while he stroked out a load. He was a normal, healthy teenaged boy, after all, and that’s what normal, healthy teenaged boys did, from time to time. And he was certainly aware of the sudden and quite noticeable physical changes that some of his male classmates were suddenly exhibiting, often brazenly and sometimes nakedly, around school. He just wasn’t interesting in steroids or HGH or whatever it was they were ruining themselves with. Bigger muscles didn’t really interest him.

Except, in a way that bothered a part of his brain, they did.

Something about those guys was very interesting. He assumed it was sexual, because he could feel his heart speed up, and sometimes he’d perspire, and he found it hard not to look at them all, even if that’s exactly what they seemed to want, anyway. So he looked, and he allowed his eyes to drift along their bulges, and over the swollen muscle and their swollen groins and maybe, sometimes, he’d think about them when, late at night and in the dark, he fumbled around with his own penis.

But so what? What did any of that matter? How could any of that actually effect him?


Scott growled deep inside his chest, sounding more animal than man, but he lifted the phone toward his eyes and pressed the screen. A short series of electronic tones signified that he had managed to place a call, and as Derek dropped to his knees and pulled one of his pricks inside his mouth, still stroking the other with his capable hands, the line picked up and a voice at the other end said, curiously, “Scott?”

“Huh… hey, Albert.” Scott sighed and licked his lips, feeling his load of cream building toward release already. “Huh… what’s up?”

Derek was sending Scott into cocksucking heaven, playing his deft tongue around the sensitive helmet of one cock while his hand stroked, teased, squeezed and rubbed his new secondary prick closer and closer to a powerful ejaculation of his muscle-making creamy cum. A pulse of salty precum pumped into Derek’s mouth and he swallowed it greedily, moaning with satisfaction and sending a chilling throb of sexual heat along one of Scott’s fat shafts. Scott was holding the phone in one hand as he teased, twisted and squeezed his nipple in the other, accompanied by cascades of throbbing sexual bliss that shook his huge frame.

“Nothing,” the other young man answered. “Kinda surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah?” Scott sucked in a sudden breath as Derek did something wonderful with his cocks. His lips puckered into a soft kiss and his eyes rolled up. He released a soft cooing noise and grunted.

“You okay? You sound weird.”

Scott swallowed and licked his lips. “Kinda… sorry, kind of distracted.” He could feel his balls bulging with cream. His asshole tingled and a trail of sweat found its way down his muscled back to drip into the crack of his butt. “Hey, Albert?”

“Yeah?”

“I was won… oooh, fuck—” He swallowed hard and sucked in a breath. Derek squeezed his hard dick with a firm grip and was rewarded with a long, fat stream of thick, warm honey that poured over his hand. He used it to slick his palm as his suction on Scott’s other cock increased.

“What?”

“Sorry, sorry… I’m… oh… uh…. yeah… fuck, oh fuck me—” Derek was still stroking and sucking, but now he was reaching between his boyfriend’s thickly muscled legs and pushing his fingers inside his hot, wet hole, drilling and rubbing and massaging his prostate with expert finesse. It felt as if Scott’s pricks both grew another inch longer and another inch thicker.

“Scott?”

“Gonna make you cum—” he said into the phone. His own load was breaching the dam, threatening to explode, an overwhelming flood of hot cream bulging in his ball sack.

“Huh?”

“You ready for it?” Scott licked his lips and twisted his nipple hard. Derek pushed four fingers inside his ass. He was rolling his palm around Scott’s swollen dick head while he sucked and slurped and licked his other prick’s shaft.

“Scott, what are you talking about?”

“Dude… You’re gonna cum so hard…” He could feel it. His flood. He could feel it building beyond containment.

“Scott, I’m sort of busy and—”

“Oh, fuck…”

“I—”

“Cum.”


“Is this as hard for everyone else as it is for me?”

Mohammed’s teammate Lance reached over and squeezed the twin sex poles between Mo’s legs. “Feels pretty hard, dude,” he answered, grinning.

“Thanks, but I was referring to… you know.”

“The game.”

“Yeah.” He raised his helmeted head and looked over the home team’s huddle at the opposing forces. It was the final game of the season, under a dark, cold night sky filled with stars. A line of young, handsome, active, virile young bodies encased in skin-tight uniforms were arrayed along a line, like lambs to the slaughter. “Fuck, I really want to blow Cary Whitehead. That fucker is one fine piece of ass.”

There was a general murmur of agreement and a few chuckles among his team, all of whom had been Transformed at this stage, either by him, or by someone he’d Transformed himself. The showers in the school gym were almost nothing now but a series of muscle-making cubicles that happened to produce hot water. Anyone setting foot inside the showers knew that he wouldn’t be coming back out looking like the same dude.

Mohammed hunkered back down. He was surrounded by mountains of fresh, hard, raw, bulging brawn. Inside each football helmet was the face of a young god, some sporting full beards and mustaches like men years older than their actual age. Eyes reflected the grins and smiles they wore perpetually, because they were perpetually in heat and felt perpetually powerful, both sexually and physically. In this confined group, the scent of their manliness, like thick clouds of sensual perfume, mingled and swam and produced a heavy fog of dick-hardening essence.

They no longer wore any padding beneath the stretchable material of their school colors, and simply allowed the dimensions of their new muscle-packed bodies to easily fill out the wide shoulders and broad chests of their shirts. There were no cups or athletic supporters large enough to contain the massive meat of their twin cocks and fat balls, so the bulges pressing forward at the top of their muscled thighs were composed only of thick, lengthy dicks and bulging, heavy nutsacks. Inches of carved abs showed up under the bottom hem of their shirts, and the pants clung to their muscular bubble butts like a second skin, traveling up the separation between the mounds to define the perfection of each ass.

Mo licked his lips and squeezed his eyes tight. Just one more win was all that was needed. Just this one win. But it was harder than ever to concentrate on the game, because when he approached the opposing forces, all he wanted to do was fuck asses and cum in their faces. A different game was playing itself out in his head, and it was only the fact that his team was easily five or ten time stronger, faster and fitter than the other one that allowed them to win.

“Suggestions?” he asked. “I mean, other than, ‘let’s rip off their uniforms and fuck them silly.’”

More chuckles filled the huddle. The center, Charlie, said, “Just run it in, Cap. I’ll snap you the ball and you just let those amazing legs of yours run the fucking thing down the field.” He tilted his head slightly and added, “Assuming, of course, that you can keep yourself from tearing a hole in my pants and sliding one of those beautiful cocks of yours so far up my ass that I can taste the tip.”

Mohammed rapped his knuckles against Charlie’s helmet and said, “Save me a space at the victory party. For now, let’s just get this fucking game over so we can get out of these clothes and start licking each others assholes like nature intended.” He grinned and they could all see his perfect white teeth. “Or… remember what I said in the locker room? About what we should do out here tonight?”

“Fuck, Mo, you serious?”

His smile never faded. “Who’s in?”

One hand shot up quickly, three more followed suit, then the entire team was in. “Fuckin’ A, dudes.”

Charlie asked, “What about defense? Those dudes are gonna go ballistic if—”

“Every man for himself. Agreed?” Heads nodded and murmured agreements were softly, but eagerly, voiced. “On three.”

“Break!”

The huddle rose up, each man topping six and a half feet, with shoulders spreading wide and high and six-packed bellies slick and shiny with sweat. They sauntered toward the line like predators, hungry for sex, each locking eyes with a different opponent before dropping forward into bulldozers of muscle and power and foot-long cocks.

Charlie bit his bottom lip and smiled at the opposing player. “Dude,” he said softly, “if I were you, I’d get the fuck out of the way before I rip that uniform off your fine body and stick my dick down your throat.”

“What the fuck?”

Charlie just laughed. “I’m serious, dude.” Then he bent forward and grabbed the football in his monstrous paw.

Mohammed’s deep, powerful tone echoed across the field. “Down! Set! Hut! Hut! Hut!”

The ball snapped.

Charlie was on his player in an instant. Atop the smaller boy, one hand against his chest, he reached up and pulled his helmet off his head and tossed it aside. The center of his uniform seemed to be ripping itself in half. A cascade of dark locks fell forward and his blue eyes were shining like amethysts. His pecs bulged with swollen power and something between his legs was growing huge. “My name’s Charlie,” he said softly, pulling the other boy’s helmet off. Then he pressed his lips to the player’s astonished mouth and began to kiss him with a passion too deep to ignore. His cocks swelled to erection and ripped through his pants before Mohammed was halfway down the field, pumping thick ropes of cream that splattered all the way up his partner’s body and landed on his lips.

Suddenly, the other high school football player was swelling with muscular growth.

Lance and another opposing player were locked in a strange-looking tableau, particularly because Lance was naked from the waist up and the muscles of his body bulged starkly in the harsh stadium lights, while the other boy seamed to be frozen in place, his eyes locked on Lance’s crotch as he slowly pulled the laces of his football pants open and then shoved his hand inside, hauling out an impressive pair of pricks that were quickly inflating, thick veins pulsed and multiplied and the heads grew shiny and purple. He said something, his full lips moving around his words before he smiled brightly and raised his arms into a double-by pose, the muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest inflating to insane proportions as his twin cocks suddenly began spraying fat ropes of cum at the other boy’s face.

The other players were following suit, unable any longer to hold themselves back. Shredded uniforms flew skyward and fat, throbbing, drooling cocks shoved forward, some already spraying thick cascades of creamy white cum as they leaned down to rip open opposing player’s pants to suck their cocks and lick their nipples and push their tongues into their mouths.

Then the rest of the team was off the bench and rushing across the field. They were ripping themselves free of their uniforms as they ran, sometimes with their hands, while others seemed merely to be swelling through the seams and Hulking out of their clothes, tossing aside helmets and shirts and pants as quickly as they could be stripped free.

Mohammed was running fast, hugging the ball to his side, laughing as he moved. The crowd was ominously silent, and he could see the goal line in front of him when he slowed to a stop and turned around.


Albert heard the word spoken across the wireless phone by his former pupil and felt something inside his head, like a tightness or a tingling. The feeling shot through his body and landed in his crotch, and his whole body was growing warmer.

At the other end of the phone call, Scott was releasing thick torrents of cream and groaning with deep satisfaction. The sounds entered Albert’s head and intensified the sensation of warmth and tightness and he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes and felt his limp prick suddenly awaken and start to move.

Scott sucked in a shuddering breath and repeated his order. “Cum,” he said again, as he did so himself, pushing his hips forward, pumping fat torrents of cum, and feeling Derek sucking the powerful cream from his balls and allowing it to drench his muscles from Scott’s second dick.

Albert’s body reacted by growing very hot very quickly, and his cock pushed up and forward and tried to make room for its sudden growth in his jeans. A tingle of precum traveled up the shaft and emerged wet and warm in his briefs, and his balls started to ache.

The warmth grew stronger still, and his scalp felt tight, and his arms throbbed, and his chest spasmed, and he could feel his asshole twitch and his nipples tingle. “Huh—” he started to say, but words were gone. Only the sensation of sex and power remained, and then he heard it again.

“Fucking cum,” Scott said. “Cumming so hard,” he added, because he was doing so himself, releasing his pent-up flood of masculine power in the form of geysers of sticky, delicious, creamy, transforming cum.

Albert threw his head back and sucked in a breath and dropped the phone. He reached down and grabbed the edge of his school desk and felt the muscles of his arms grow tight and hard as the tensed. Something was ripping. Something was tearing. His cock hurt and his balls ached and he could feel something inside him changing. He could feel his whole body growing hotter and hotter, and his cock pushed against his button fly and his balls churned and throbbed.

And Albert began to grow.


Mohammed was several yards from his only pursuer, and it was clear that the other player was unaware that the field behind him had erupted into an orgy of muscular growth and unrestrained man-on-man sex. Both team coaches seemed frozen at the edge of the field, unsure what to do or how to do it, and perhaps scared of becoming involved or getting blamed for this mess.

Mo allowed his cocks to grow, and they pressed against his laces and started the patented “Mohammed Strip,” which meant that they were going to undo his pants for him, something he had perfected after several locker room transformations. Still holding the ball in one hand, he raised his other to the collar of his shirt and began to easily rip it from his torso, slowly revealing the bulging muscular perfection that lived under his chocolate-colored skin.

Nate Hammond rushed toward the opposing quarterback, determined not to lose this game to this team of steroid-popping freaks. The rush of blood in his ears deafened him the to crowd around him, and his focus was only on catching the retreating figure, oblivious to the fact that his teammates, to a man, were now paired off with naked or near-naked teenaged muscle titans who were, to varying degrees and at varying speeds, turning his friends into new Muscle Club members.

Then the retreating figure slowed and stopped, and only yards short of victory, he turned around and looked at Nate, before tearing his shirt from his body and just standing there, smiling at him.

Hammond didn’t stop. He charged headlong toward the towering muscular form and intended to tackle him and, if possible, retrieve the ball for his own side.

“Huh,” Mohammed said to himself. “Okay, if that’s how you want to play it, my friend.” Clearly, he didn’t have time for the Mohammed Strip. So he dropped the football, set his hands to the waist of his pants, and ripped them wide open.

He looked down and watched his pythons unfurl, quickly plumping to full engorgement and pointing their founts forward. “Hello, guys,” he said. “It’s show time.” Then he grabbed one of his 14-inch cocks in each hand and readied his cannons for action. “Gonna be close,” he said, grinning.

Hammond didn’t quite register what he was seeing, but he was going too fast to slow down, let alone stop. And by the time he realized what he was just about to get a face-full of, all he could do was flank left.

Mohammed pumped his load to full volume, and let his flood of hot cream fly as Nate flew past, shoving twin fountains of thick, warm cum at Hammond’s face and mouth.

The other player was growing before he hit the grass.


Albert cold still hear the faint voice of his pupil from his phone on the desk. “Cum,” he kept repeating. “Fucking cum.”

His prick hurt. It was so hard. It was so big. He let go of the desk and moved his hands toward his groin. The sleeves of his shirt split open as his biceps bulged. His shirt split along the back as his lats expanded and grew thicker. His feet hurt as they grew too large for his shoes, but his brain was focused on his cock.

He had to cum.

He had to.

He looked down and under his desk. There was a dark spot on the crotch of his jeans. His cock was erecting a tent. The lip of the material covering the buttons on his fly had been pushed back. They seemed to be straining to hang on. He could hear the thick denim material stretch and complain as the strength and size of his cock shoved against them.

“Cum,” said a faint, tiny, but deep and powerful man’s voice. “Cum,” it ordered him.

The buttons of his shirt across his chest were pulling tightly against his skin. He could feel them digging against his flesh, but he could also feel his nipples rubbing against the material. He sucked in a breath as his nipples sent shocks of intense pleasure toward his crotch, and the denim creaked and stretched.

“Cum—”

He quickly pulled his belt buckle open and set his fingers to the buttons of his fly, pulling them apart and exposing his white briefs. The head of his cock was clearly outlined and seemed all at once to shove inches longer. The lips of its mouth grew irritated against his briefs and he curled his thumbs under the waistband and pushed them off his angry prick.

He felt his mouth go dry and he wanted, suddenly, and more than anything, to take his own prick into his mouth and suck on the red, shiny helmet. It looked huge and delicious, and his cock was bigger than he ever saw it before. It was throbbing and stretching and plumping, now, getting larger and harder with every beat of his heart. The buttons across his chest started popping free and his nipples, rubbing against the retreating material, pushed him over the edge.


“Dude,” said a voice behind where Nate landed, “welcome to the Club.”

He turned over. Everything felt good. Everything throbbed and tingled and pulsed with sex. He could feel his whole body growing heavier, and more powerful, and larger. His football padding creaked and groaned as his new body emerged, growing muscle by the inch across his chest and arms and legs.

A dark figure stood over him, thrown into silhouette in the stadium lights. It was clear he was naked, and beautiful, and perfect. The figure dropped to its knees beside him, and his face coalesced into a vision of male perfection. Mohammed had thick, moist lips and dark eyes and ropes of hair falling from his head. His broad, massive chest was dusted with tight, black curls and from between his unbelievably muscular legs, two upward arching erections topped with thick mushroom caps were drooling thick streams of cream.

Nate release a moan of desire and Mohammed bent down and placed his warm mouth adjacent the other player’s lips. Hammond reached up and cupped his hand behind Mohammed’s neck and pulled him into the kiss, shoving his tongue forward hungrily as he felt something odd start to throb and tingle at his crotch.

Mohammed felt his surprise and shock and said, softly, “That’s your other one, dude.”

“Other one?”

Mohammed smiled. “We all get two cocks, dude. Two huge, long, amazing cocks to play with.” To illustrate his point most obviously, Mohammed sat back and his own twins pointed toward the sky. With slow strokes, he sent them both erupting, splattering fat puddles of warm cream across Nates’ growing body. “Feels good, don’t it?”

“Aw, fuck,” the other young man said, and then the two of them were ripping him free of his uniform as he continued to mature into his new form. Mohammed watched with satisfaction and lust as the next Muscle Club member grew larger and more muscular before his eyes.

Hammond was the stereotypical All American Boy. Blonde haired and blue eyes, but he was also blessed with two very large, very pink nipples that only increased in size as his pecs expanded. He also already owned a substantial length of cock, and as Mo watched, it just grew larger still as its twin shoved through Nate’s thick pubic bush of golden curls and crawled up his belly, thicker and longer by the second.

Mohammed positioned himself over Nate, stradding his swelling chest, and leaned down to take his friend’s pricks inside his mouth, because he knew what was coming.

Nate was going to explode with cum.

Mohammed wanted every drop.

Nate looked up to see Mohammed’s tight rosy hole before his face, the other boys balls were laying on his body. He could smell Mohammed’s scent strongly. He reached up with his developing arms and grabbed a butt cheek in each hand, pulling Mo’s ass open so that he could lap up his stink and his taste.

He pushed his tongue inside Mo’s asshole for only a moment before he started shoving out the biggest load of hot cum in his young life.


Albert shot his first stream right into his own face. It was thick and warm and full. The feel of it striking him, and the smell of cum, made him shoot again.

His second stream was even thicker.

“Cum,” said the tiny voice again.

Albert’s shirt was in shreds across his torso. He had gained 20 pounds of hard muscle. His cock was three inches bigger than it used to be. His balls were heavy with cream and he was pushing load after fat load out, slurping it into his mouth and feeling his body growing with power.

“Fuck,” he moaned softly. “More.”

“Albert?”

He came again. He gathered it into his palm and licked it into his mouth.

“You there, dude?”

He came again.

“Al?”

He looked at his phone and smiled before picking it up in his sticky grip. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

Albert licked a drop of his own cum from the corner of his mouth and grinned, looking down at himself. There were two distinct globes of muscle packed onto his chest. His slowly retreating cock was thick and heavy. His forearms were networked with veins, and each biceps was a fat ball mounted on each upper arm. He felt warm and satisfied and… hungry for more. “Jesus,” he said slowly.

“Albert?”

“Where are you, Scott?”

“Why?”

He grinned at his bigger cock, and it twitched in reply. “I got something I want to show you.”


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