Description At college, Will attracts the attention of a sexy, Irish hockey player who pushes all Will’s buttons—but now that he’s in this new world Will isn’t sure he can share all of himself with his slowly growing admirer.
|Updated||16 Feb 2019|
Always Hard Cock Growth Extra digits Getting Taller Huge Cock Hyper Cock Multi-abs Multicock Multitongue Muscle Growth Muscles Replication Self-suck Size Growth St. Patrick's Day Twinning BRK All Stories By Date
Kevin O’Connell knew he stood a good chance of looking like the embodiment of every ridiculous image Americans had of St. Patrick’s Day, but he didn’t care. Sure, he was a genuine Irishman (having emigrated to upstate New York with his brothers and dad at age eleven, old enough that he’d never quite lost his accent), sitting in a tavern (Daly’s, around the corner from the sprawling Grant University campus) and drinking Irish lager (they had Harp on draft, and not tinted green tonight, thank Christ). He was even wearing green, in the form of a skin-tight deep-green long-sleeved tee that showed off his hard, tight-muscled athletic body even under his dark blue hockey team jacket, which someone at the door had stuck a big self-adhesive shamrock on the moment he’d entered the crowded tavern. The green shirt also, he knew from three comments already tonight, one from the apparently smitten bartender, tended to make his hazel eyes seem to flicker and blaze with glints of green in the shifting light of the tavern’s interior.
But Kevin didn’t give a damn about any of that right now. His mind was on other things. Those keen, determined hazel eyes roved the bar from under long, loose, sandy-colored bangs as he sipped his beer, looking for his quarry. Tonight he was going to overcome his inhibitions and turn six weeks of simmering infatuation into something more. Tonight, no matter what, Kevin would have them, the mesmerizingly beautiful men who acted more like two copies of the same bright-eyed, quick-to-laugh charmer than the identical twins they appeared to be.
Kevin’s ample, already hard cock shifted, flexing as usual at the very thought of Will. He’d noticed the tall, rangy, dark-haired boy the moment he’d walked into the first meeting of his Tuesday one o’clock European Prehistory class at the start of the spring semester. He felt even then like Kevin’s fantasies made flesh. He watched as the boy climbed the steps of the largish lecture hall between the rows of nearly full seats with his coat and bookbag in his hands, chatting easily with a cute blonde girl. Kevin couldn’t look away. He was intoxicating from head to toe. He looked to Kevin like a guy who’d had a major growth spurt all at once that relentlessly stretched his lanky body out to a new, almost towering height a few inches over Kevin’s own 6’3”, and then had worked hard to fill out just enough to shift himself from beanpole to something like an extra-tall gymnast. Kevin drank in the gently bulging shoulders, nicely thick upper arms that filled the sleeves of the soft-looking snug black tee shirt he was wearing that day, the pecs pushing out his tee without pulling the fabric away from the just-discernable ridges of his tight, cobblestone abs—and, as the boy turn to follow his friend into the row of seats across the aisle and down one from where Kevin sat staring at him with his mouth agape and his cock swelling uncontrollably in his lap, the most perfect, killer ass he’d even seen encased in new-looking black jeans. At the sight of it he drew in a startled breath, even as his cock fought frantically to harden all the way to the most rigidly hard it could be as he sat in the cramped stadium-style lecture hall seat, struggling painfully against the confines of his shorts and jeans. And then, just as Kevin had dropped a hand to the fat tool in his lap to adjust it into a more comfortable position along his hip, the boy finally seemed to sense Kevin’s besotted stare and turned where he stood in front of the seat he’d chosen, locking eyes with him and smiling so brilliantly that Kevin’s cock surged and straightened to full hardness all on its own in what had become a suddenly tight grip through his jeans. It squirmed in his grip, begging to be let loose, to be pleasured to urgent release.
The tall, beautiful boy held Kevin’s gaze with mischievous green eyes for a long moment, the burbling sounds of the filling lecture hall seeming to muffle around them. Kevin’s heart pounded in his ears. A lifelong introvert and only a few months out of the closet after years of steering clear of hunky teammates on the hockey team lest his inclinations be discovered, Kevin found he was still unaccustomed to engaging with hot guys, even ones he didn’t know. He wanted to shift away, break contact somehow, but he couldn’t quite seem to move now that the boy had pinned him with his saucy, intense, chocolate-brown stare. Kevin felt like his chest was tingling as he stared back, as if his very defined but not-huge pecs were responding to this apparition as eagerly as his now-fully-hard cock. The boy was drawing in deep, regular breaths as they gazed at each other, his mouth open just enough for him to gently tease his lower lip with his teeth, and in that moment, with his body buzzing and his head swimming, Kevin knew there was a very real chance he could become completely obsessed.
At that moment the instructor, who’d been busy syncing up the screen and digital projector system with the slideshow on his laptop, took his position behind the lectern and loudly called for everyone to take their seats. The spell mostly broken, the boy offered him a coy smile. He let his eyes drop momentarily to Kevin’s chest, which felt oddly warm and heavy, before turning to sit down next to the girl he’d come in with—incidentally offering Kevin, either deliberately or accidentally, one last look at his awesome ass.
Most of that class meeting was a blur. It seemed like only moments later that he was bending over in his seat to shove his notebooks and handouts into his bag, people already streaming out of the row with their noses buried in their phones or chattering with each other, when he heard a cheerful, unfamiliar voice say, “Hello, stranger.”
He looked up to see the boy standing over him, beaming at him like he’d found something he’d been looking for. The boy’s smile was so playful and infectious that Kevin couldn’t quite keep his own lips from quirking upwards at the sides. “Hi,” Kevin said. Realizing this was an unimpressive first volley, he scrambled to think of something more intelligent to say. “You, uh, a transfer?” he asked, scratching nervously at the scruff of stubble he suddenly wished he’d shaved off that morning. “I mean, I haven’t seen you around …before.” Kevin let his eyes slip down to the boy’s bumpy shoulders and well-defined chest before jumping guiltily back up to his grinning face. Kevin was just starting his sophomore year, and though the campus was filled with hot guys he thought he definitely would have noticed this one if he’d been around before now.
The boy’s grin widened a little, as if he’d guessed what Kevin was thinking. “Sort of,” he said. “I finished most of my high school stuff ahead of time and they let me start here part-time a semester early.” He thrust out a hand. “Will Braddock.”
Kevin took the hand automatically, liking how his pale skin looked wrapped in Will’s lightly tanned fingers. And how they felt. Will’s grip was strong and warm, and Kevin gripped back, not wanting to let go. And there was something odd about that grip, like there was more of it in some way. It took him a second to realize that Will’s hand felt better and bigger around his because he had more of those long, strong fingers than the usual allotment—five fingers, he counted, his mouth feeling dry. Five fingers and a thumb. The thumb was minutely stroking the back of Kevin’s hand—a few millimeters one way, a few millimeters the other.
His heartbeat had already quickened when he’d looked up to see that Will was right there talking to him. Now it was thudding violently against his chest as he stared at the hand gripping his. He thought he could actually hear his blood rushing in his ears, though he was sure most of it was on a bullet train to his dick. Heat spread around the collar of his shirt, blooming up his neck and across his cheeks, but he was too caught up in Will’s touch and how wild and wonderful it looked to have their hands wrapped round each other. It was a second before he realized that he was completely, totally hard again, just like he’d been at the start of class when he’d first seen him. A few seconds after that it occurred to him that Will, standing as he was directly above him, would have absolutely no trouble spying the fat, hard pipe in Kevin’s lap. And Will didn’t exactly seem like the kind of guy to miss what was going on around him.
Kevin flushed and pulled his hand away from Will’s at last, dropping both hands obstructively into his lap; but when he glanced back up at Will, he saw nothing but friendly curiosity. Well, and the same heavy undertow of arousal that had been there the whole time.
“So…do you have a name, too?” Will teased, green eyes glinting. He teethed his lower lip again, and Kevin found the gesture utterly adorable. His insides twisted.
He remembered what the question had been and blurted, “Yeah, o’ course I do.” He almost panicked when his own name didn’t immediately come to mind, but then he added in a rush, “Kevin. Kevin O’Connell.”
“Ah,” Will said, sounding pleased. “I thought I heard some Irish in there.”
This calmed Kevin a little, as American boys seemed to like his faint bit of brogue. “Born and bred,” he said, and his own eyes sharpening as he gazed up at Will. Even in the face of such hypnotic allure, Kevin wasn’t completely helpless.
“That’s good,” Will said, nodding. “It’s a very sexy accent. I might need to listen to you talk some more.” He sounded like he was teasing again, but then he became a little more serious as he went on, “Actually, I’ve never taken an anthro course like this before, and I’m a little nervous. How—how good are you with this stuff?”
Though only a sophomore, Kevin knew he was interested enough in the study of prehistoric societies to figure he would probably declare his major in one of the fields that had something to do with primeval humanity, either anthro, ancient history, archeology, or something similar. He cocked his head at Will, glad to have something else to offer to balance out Will’s overwhelming presence. “I’m okay,” he said casually. “I’ve taken a few already. I’m pretty into it,” he added confidently.
“Excellent,” Will said. “I hereby christen us study buddies!” He offered the hand again, and Kevin took it. They didn’t shake, though, just enjoyed a moment holding hands. Will resumed his gentle caress across the back of Kevin’s hand, and Kevin, emboldened by Will’s frank interest in him, tried doing the same in return, enjoying the feel of Will’s wide, smooth hand under the pads of his own long, square thumb.
Then Will dove into a pocket with his other hand and pulled out a phone, offering it to Kevin. “Here, give me your deets,” Will said. Reluctantly, Kevin let go to take the phone, awkwardly fishing his own out of his bag to hand up to Will. They exchanged information, then with a final wave and an over-the-shoulder promise to text Will was jogging happily down the steps and out the double doors, leaving Kevin sitting alone and dazed in the middle of the now-completely empty auditorium, his cock as hard as it had ever been in his life.
A few hours later Kevin was sitting in his bed with his back against the wall, impatiently waiting for his cute-nerd roommate Xander to finish his video game and head to his four-fifteen class so he could deal with the rock-hard boner that hadn’t subsided at all since anthro. He had a textbook open in his lap, but it was mostly there to hide his obvious erection. He scratched at the front of his tee shirt, which seemed to be pulling weirdly across his chest for some reason, and decided to text his buddy Zach.
Grabbing his phone off the desk next to him he sent a quick text asking if Zach was around and got a quick response. “Just got out of history and then stats,” Zach answered. “You?”
“Anthro earlier,” Kevin texted.
“Any hot guys?” Zach asked immediately, following up with a wink emoji.
Kevin smiled. Zach was a star wing on the hockey team with him and had pretty much saved his ass when Kevin’s sexuality had been exposed by a jealous ex who’d posted pics of them kissing just to fuck with Kevin’s standing on the team. As a fairly introverted freshman defensive with no experience being gay and out Kevin had been sure the team would turn on him despite his solid record during the games he’d played. And there was a moment when some of the more asshole jocks might have swing the rest around to that position. Then Zach had stood up in the locker room before the a big game and calmly announced that if they had a problem with Kevin because he was gay, they had a problem with him, too. After a moment of stunned silence the coach had roared at them to play some fucking hockey for fuck’s sake, and that, astonishingly, was the end of it.
Since then, Zach had been Kevin’s closest friend—and though he still kept his private life private Zach had revealed himself to Kevin to be a secret horndog with no small appetite for cute, muscley twinks with aw-shucks smiles and eager tongues, of which there seemed to be no shortage on the Grant U campus. Zach joked that it was almost like they bred them in quantity on the surrounding farmlands. “Actually yeah,” Kevin shot back. “Hot dude eye-fucked me right there in class. Sort of your type. Smoking hot. Though …maybe too tall for you.”
“Fuck, dude,” Zach responded. “Told you this was your lucky year. Who is he? You get his number? Maybe I already had him, he sounds like someone I’d jump on.”
Kevin frowned at the possibility as he absently scratched his chest again with his free hand. He texted his new study buddy’s name and then impulsively set down the phone and shucked his shirt while he waited for the response.
He didn’t have to wait long. It seemed Zach did know him, because his response was “Yeah? This guy?” followed by a pic. He wasn’t surprised—Zach introduced himself shamelessly to all the hot guys, often managing to get a pic and contact info even if nothing else ended up happening. Smiling, Kevin looked closely at it. In the pic, Will was standing in the middle of a different, smaller lecture hall, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a brick-red tee shirt with white lettering that said “404 ERROR: COOL SHIRT NOT FOUND”, and like the slogan-free black one Kevin had seen him in earlier, it was snug enough to highlight all the tight muscles and bulges on his long, rangy frame. And speaking of bulges, what Kevin had been too nervous to look for was more than obvious in this picture: a prodigious package graced the front of Will’s well-worn and comfy-looking pale blue jeans, visible even with Will’s hands in his pockets.
“That’s him,” Kevin texted back. “He’s in one of your classes?”
“Yup,” Zach responded. “The history class I had earlier at one. Western civ.”
Kevin felt his brows draw together. “Today? You sure?” he sent.
“Yah. Will’s hot, but you’re right. Too tall for me. All yours, dude!”
Zach signed off shortly thereafter to head for an early dinner with his current squeeze, a lacrosse prodigy named Oliver. He invited Kevin along, but Kevin begged off, and before long he found himself staring at the black screen of his phone, trying to make sense of what he’d just learned.
He and Zach both had Will in their Tuesday one o’clock classes. How could that be? He huffed in confusion. No wonder Will was ahead of things with his high school requirements, if he could go to two classes at once.
He stared down at his lap where his still-rock-hard dick was begging to be taken care of, then glowered at the back of his oblivious roommate’s head. He leaned back, dropping the phone onto the comforter beside him, losing himself as he waited in images of Zack’s Will and his own licking and mouthing his big, raging-hard erection from both sides as he stroked their heads and their long, naked backs.
The ensuring weeks were filled with elation and frustration all mixed together. He and Will started meeting up once or twice a week, using the excuse of talking over the anthro class to laugh with each other over the decadently delicious pepperoni pizzas at Marion’s or walk aimlessly through the lushly forested arboretum that bisected the northern arms of the campus, beautiful even in winter. Kevin told him about his big family and about coming out on the team, and Will talked about his best friend Barry, who was a year ahead of him and was already at a school out west. Will seemed to miss him, but they skyped a lot, he said, and were still clearly very close.
Will and Kevin found they were spending progressively more and more time together. They sat together in class, shoulders brushing as they giggled at the prof’s idiosyncrasies. Will started coming to all of Zach’s home hockey games, cultivating a surprising awareness of Kevin’s responsibilities on the ice as a d-man and even joining Zach and some of the other guys a few times for pizza and pitchers after the game. Mainly they spent a lot of time hanging out in Kevin’s dorm room, mixing studying with banter and debates over things like which movie superhero franchises they were still excited about and which ones they were completely sick of. Will befriended Xander, too, when he was around, joining him for Call of Duty marathons and playing like a pro.
Most of all Will and Kevin enjoyed being together; and not, they were both aware, just as friends. From the start they held hands whenever they could as a natural extension of the lingering handshake they’d shared that first day. Sometimes Will would pull off his shoes and socks if they were going to be lounging in Kevin’s dorm for a while, allowing Kevin to glimpse seven-toed feet that started cropping up regularly in Kevin’s dreams and jack-off fantasies after that. Kevin was almost always hard when they hung out together, even in public, and, he was delighted to discover before long, Will was too. His enormous tool was obvious in his jeans, and occasionally snuck free to protrude several inches above his waistline as they sat at dinner or in the library, until Kevin’s stares and eyebrow wiggles drew Will’s attention to it and he sheepishly shoved it ruthlessly out of sight with the hand that wasn’t always holding Kevin’s.
But it wasn’t all quite right, Kevin knew. For whatever reason, Will was holding part of himself back. Maybe literally as well as figuratively, Kevin mused. Zach verified to him that Will was attending the history class they shared on a regular basis, just as he was with Kevin’s anthro class that met at the same time. Once, feigning an urgent bathroom need, Kevin had ducked out of anthro early and trotted over to the Zach’s class in the history building. Peeking through the door, he saw, sure enough, a tall, somewhat muscley, very good-looking dark-haired boy sitting in the center of the lecture hall a few rows back from the front. Not only could he be no one other than Will, but he was also wearing the same navy and azure striped rugby shirt that Kevin had seen Will wearing to their anthro class a few weeks earlier. Kevin snuck away before this other Will could see him, his dick already spring to a full erection so powerful that it didn’t go down until he’d beat himself twice back at the dorm, in the safety of one of the private shower stalls on his floor.
There was something about Will’s secret that tugged at him somewhere deep inside. It wasn’t just that he thought it was hot, though it was, no question. But Kevin also became aware that in him yearned for what Will had. He had lots of brothers, but they were separated from him in age, too old or too young to bond with him. He’d once dreamed of having a brother his own age when he was growing up, and though he’d forgotten the passing fantasy it now returned to him in spades thanks to Will.
Strange things started happening, too. Though his shirts weren’t getting any tighter he was positive his pecs were slowly getting bigger bit by bit. Sure, he was working out regularly—he was an athlete and proud of what he could do with his body and how hard he could push himself; but his metabolism had always stubbornly refused to let him put on any appreciable amount of size, instead channeling all his efforts in the weight room into killer strength and definition. So now it was a little weird that his pecs were suddenly getting as thick and heavy as a Tim Gabel wannabe. He thought he was imagining it at first, especially since neither his shirts nor his hockey jerseys was getting any tighter. Then one day he was sitting on his bed, folding his laundry in just a pair of sweat pants, and he lifted up one of his favorite shirts and really looked at it. It was the dark blue one with the worn, yellow Sabres logo (a relic from his high school days in Buffalo). It finally clicked into place that a shirt he remembered as being completely square, the two sides perfectly parallel to each other, now looked fitted, with the top visibly wider to accommodate, conveniently enough, a set of nice, thick pecs.
Kevin stared at the shirt, then dropped it back into the pile and rummaged through the rest of his clean clothes, examining all the shirts he came across. All of the tees and jerseys he wore regularly—and there weren’t that many, as he tended to wear the same six or seven tops over and over—were the same, expanded somehow to make room for his slowly expanding chest. Quickly he jumped up and ran to his dresser, moving underwear and balled socks aside until he came across a tee shirt, a pink Mister Bubble tee he never wore anymore because of a small, intractable coffee stain just below the mascot’s googly eyes. It had once fit him perfectly, but now he pulled it on and sure enough it was way, way too tight across his bulging chest, the bubble bath mascot stretched ridiculously out of proportion.
Kevin stared down at himself, allowing himself to think about how his growing pecs weren’t the only change he’d been experiencing. He knew, knew damn it, that Will had been a few inches taller than him when they’d met. But now—he wasn’t. These days he was almost, but not quite, looking Will straight in the eyes. Zach had joked in the locker room as they changed before their last game about him getting bigger so he could be a proper d-man, and Kevin had laughed it off; but now he had to admit that something weird was going on. He shook his head. Leaving his laundry and everything else be for the moment he headed out of his room toward the common bathroom to take a leak. When he felt his disheveled hair brush against the doorjamb of his room for the first time, a wild, excited tingle slid giddily up his spine.
In the bathroom he hauled his dick out of his sweats at one of the urinals and stared at it. He’d been pretending he hadn’t been noticing some prodigious growth there, too. He’d always had a big cock—he’d measured it once at 9 inches and 7 inches around when fully hard. But now, it had to be easily that big soft. He sighed and let loose with a torrent of urine even as his dick started trying to get hard again, as it was always trying to do these days when it wasn’t already hard as a frickin’ iron girder, and soon he was peeing slightly painfully through a raging boner he was barely able to shift downward enough with both hands to still splash his stream near the top of the urinal’s white porcelain. It was heavy, too, but his groin seemed strong enough to bear the weight, even if his brawny hands could only just shift it even a few inches. After a few moments the urine tailed off and he shook himself, then paused, feeling a little stupefied as he stood there in his too tight tee shirt, both hands clasped around his enormous erection as he wondered just what was going on in his life.
At that moment he heard an awestruck “Whoa,” and he turned quickly to see Shirtless Noah, the good-looking soccer jock from down the hall who always went around the dorm hallways wearing jeans only (with footwear only as necessary) as if that were the natural, purest state of man. He was staring in amazement at Kevin. Not wanting to give the impression he was standing there blithely jerking his tool at the urinals like a, well, tool, Kevin immediately dropped his hands. That, however, only served to expose just how huge and thick Kevin’s magnificent erection truly was.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Shirtless Noah gasped, eyes wide. Kevin watched as he actually licked his lips at the sight of the massive upended aircraft carrier of a wang currently jutting up from Kevin’s mighty crotch.
Kevin flushed, uncertain what to do. There was no way to hide it, obviously, and Shirtless Noah, whom he hadn’t pegged as gay before now, clearly didn’t mind the eyeful he was getting. Maybe when a dick gets big enough, he thought, it turns straight guys gay just by looking at it. Kevin cleared his throat. “I …think I’ll, um, finish up in my room,” he stammered lamely, moving awkwardly toward the door. It felt strange to walk with his towering boner pointing up and out in front of him, shifting and bobbing as he walked, and so he pulled up his arm and held it against his torso with a forearm as he hurried past the goggling half-naked jock.
“Can’t I watch?” Shirtless Noah called after him right as the bathroom door closed behind him.
For all the strangeness and the lingering questions, hanging out with Will was a dream, and Kevin shoved all his misgivings to the back of his mind. He tried to psych himself into overcome his natural barriers and the developing weirdness, hoping Will would respond by sharing what he had been holding back, but he told himself he wasn’t quite ready yet, keeping himself from pushing Will to give him more. Then one day at the start of March, as they were stopping in front of Will’s off-campus apartment building and staring straight into each other’s eyes, a switch flipped somewhere in Kevin’s guts. Before Will could turn away Kevin spontaneously curled a hand around Will’s neck and drew him in for a long, deep kiss. It was returned wholeheartedly, and Kevin’s raging boner surged relentlessly against the waistband of his jeans and boxers as Will let his very long tongue slide deep into Kevin’s mouth. They kissed like that for a while, Kevin finding that his own tongue was, unsurprisingly, a little longer than he’d thought it was, both of them twining their fingers together as a cool early-spring breeze wafted around their close-pressed forms.
Finally Will pulled back, cheeks flushed and eyes wide with want—but those same eyes looked apprehensive, too. Kevin stared at him wistfully, cheeks flushed and cock damp with pre, wondering if they could break through whatever reticence they both felt that was keeping them apart.
“See you later, Irish,” Will said at last. He disentangled himself and, unaware his monster erection had again liberated itself to thrust, purple and leaking, almost straight up out of his jeans, Will turned and trotted briskly up the walk toward the entrance of his building. Kevin watched him go, his own dick lusting once again after Will’s amazing hot ass.
The kiss stayed with him. It lingered in his senses and memory all that day, and that night too as he mercilessly brought himself to soaring orgasm over and over again, and in fact all that week. The kiss did not leave him. And the more he wallowed in it, the more he let it drift around him as he stumbled through that week and the next without his dick ever once getting soft, without every feeling anything less that completely aroused at the thought of Will kissing him, touching him, being with him, Kevin convinced himself that not only had he been right to push Will into that perfect moment, but also that he couldn’t stop there. He needed more. they both did, and it only had to be catalyzed by one more push.
Now, he sat here in Daly’s Tavern on St. Patrick’s Day, two weeks after the kiss, and as he watched the increasingly booze-addled crowd “get their Irish on” Kevin knew he’d reached a turning point. That very day at lunch over in Walker Cafeteria he’d laid it all on the line. “So,” he’d said, looking Will right in his bright green eyes once he’d swallowed the last of his turkey sub, “how are you liking the World Civ class?”
Will paused in the act of lifting his bottle of Coke Zero to his lips, gaze locked on Kevin’s. The whole time they’d known each other, Kevin had refrained from any mention of Will’s double life. He’d drawn a sharp line so he could enjoy the simple pleasure of hanging out with Will, from the rush of happiness that stole through him whenever they met up and Kevin got to see Will’s wide, wicked smile, to the little pang he felt when they went their separate ways. But Kevin needed to know all of Will, not just what Will was choosing to show him.
Kevin watched him closely. He was certain Will knew exactly what was going through Kevin’s head. Will took a long swig of his soda and set the bottle down, never breaking eye contact with Kevin. “It’s going great,” Will said finally. His eyes were dancing, and Kevin felt a sudden thrill at seeing that Will was glad Kevin had finally crossed that line he’d been so careful about all this time. “It’s a lot of reading and essays, but I think I’ve got a knack for it,” he went on, his gaze steady and unwavering.
“You must have a hell of a class schedule,” Kevin said. “Especially for a freshman.”
Will nodded, and Kevin noticed his lips were twitching at the corners, as if he were suppressing a smile. “The trick,” Will said, his voice a little quieter, making Kevin unconsciously shift toward him, “is to always work twice as hard as everyone else.”
Fuck, Kevin thought. This is it. This is it for real. His heart started pounding faster as he stared hard and determined into Will’s bright, twinkling eyes. “I’d like you to show me that trick sometime,” he said. Will teased his lower lip with his teeth, like he did when he was thinking hard about something, and Kevin forced himself to push further. “Tonight.”
“Why don’t we meet up at Daly’s?” Will offered. “Nine o’clock good?”
Was there a little extra emphasis on that “we”? Kevin wondered. “Can’t wait,” he said.
They separated shortly after that, Will heading to his Friday afternoon class and Kevin back to his empty dorm room where he spent the intervening hours valiantly fending off the temptation to jerk his huge, almost constantly erect wang with his big two hands over and over again, a need that seemed to consume him to the point of near irresistibility every moment he wasn’t actually with Will, and even sometimes when he was. Instead he played one of Xander’s games to occupy his brain, though in retrospect he wasn’t sure which one, or even how well he did at whatever his player was supposed to be doing, aware only of his hard monster cock twitching against the bare skin of his torso, and his heart thumping steadily at the thought of tonight’s meeting.
Finally it was time to go. After browsing the possibilities among his clean clothes he pulled on his loosest jeans, which these days were a little more close-fitting than he was used to, especially across the backside and around the thighs; the more green-themed of his argyle socks and favorite boots; and the long-sleeved dark-green baseball tee that Will seemed to like. His enormous erection, now pretty much his constant companion, he left thrusting straight up out of his jeans at its usual slight angle, listing toward the left so that it seemed to be straining to touch the thick nipple that was visible through the cozy fabric of the shirt. Kevin mused it wouldn’t be long until it reached its goal, and shook his head, not wanting to sidetrack himself with his amazing, oversized dick. He pulled on his boots and team jacket, which despite being left open obscured his towering dick from anyone who wasn’t standing right in front of him, and had just ducked under his doorjamb into the hall and was fishing for his keys when he noticed Xander standing there in the hall staring up at him. He seemed almost entranced, his own keys forgotten in his hands. “Hey,” Kevin said down to him, tossing him a friendly head-tilt.
“Hey,” Xander said, already blushing. He’d been having this effect on Xander lately, and Kevin thought it was kind of cute. He was pretty sure his theory about huger dicks turning guys gay for him was pretty much spot on, given how Xander, Shirtless Noah, and some of the other guys on his floor had been acting lately. But then, Xander seemed to be packing pretty decently himself these days, if the bulge he was currently sporting was any indication. Xander shifted his gaze to Kevin’s green shirt and smiled a crooked, half-smile. “You headed out to get your—” he started to ask in a joking tone, but Kevin cut him off.
“Just meeting up with Will,” he said, not feeling like being Mr. Irish on a day like today. He was going out to celebrate something much more important than some medieval saint with a snake phobia.
Xander nodded, looking faintly disappointed. Then he perked up and asked, “Hey, before you go, can I just—touch real quick?”
Kevin clicked his tongue in annoyance, running a hand through his long, loose, sandy hair—even that seemed to be growing fast these days. He looked down at Xander with exasperation, though it was as much for himself as for his unexpectedly randy roommate. Somehow, within the last week or so, he’d got caught up in this weird ritual thing where first Shirtless Noah, then Xander and then most of the other guys on the floor had demanded the right to give Kevin’s enormous dick a few strokes whenever he was “flaunting it”—that is, whenever he was hard and couldn’t put it away, which was lately pretty much 24/7. He’d protested about the coverage provided by the team jacket, but Shirtless Noah had insisted that since he seldom zipped it up (which was true, for reasons Kevin couldn’t quite identify about himself), his tool was still out in the open and therefore was still being “flaunted”. Sharing it was only fair, Shirtless Noah argued, with Xander backing him up. And unfortunately they did so in not-too-quiet voices and out in the hallway in front of most of the other guys, who’d come out of their dorm rooms, the doors of which were usually kept open when people were home in the afternoons, to hear what all the talk about “giant dick” was about. Kevin, giving in, allowed a rule of two quick strokes, maximum, of his exposed dick a day per person.
Kevin sighed. Knowing he had no choice, Kevin acceded reluctantly to Xander’s request. “Okay,” he said, “but hurry it up.”
Beaming, Xander reached out with both hands and, shifting the jacket aside so it fell again his forearm, reverently wrapped both of his cool hands around the enormous, nearly chest-high erection. His fingers and thumbs barely met on either side of the massive cock, and Kevin sucked in a breath as Xander dragged his hands slowly along the mighty shaft, first down toward the root hidden inside his tight jeans, then up, up, up, to the crown. This always made Kevin feel uncomfortably hot in his jacket as sensual pleasure cascaded through him from his supersensitive monster dick, but at least it was usually over quickly. He watched, fascinated, as a large dollop of mostly clear precum welled up out his thumb-wide piss slit. Xander saw it too, and reached to scoop it up with one hand, the other still slowly stroking him. Xander brought the goo-covered hand to his lips and began licking it clean, forcing a small moan out of Kevin. He hadn’t cum since that morning and he realized he was in danger of pushing past the point of no return for an orgasm if his roomie kept up his diligent ministrations, so he gently detached Xander’s stroking hand and tried to get a grip on himself (metaphorically speaking). Looking down at Xander, who was still licking Kevin’s pre of his hand, he noticed that his roommate’s own dick had wriggled free and he had a solid three or four inches of very fat, pale pink cock shoving up out of his own jeans. Apparently the recent distribution of gifts had been enjoyed not just by Kevin, but by his friends as well.
Xander finished with his hand and eyed Kevin’s cock with longing. “Are you ever going to let me suck you off?” he asked plaintively. He’d asked this before, and Kevin had said no without knowing quite why, but now he knew.
He shook his head slowly. “That’s a job I have in mind for—a special guy,” he said.
“That’s a job for a fucking team of guys,” Xander blurted, still drinking in Kevin’s huge tool.
This struck Kevin as funny, and after all the nervousness of the last few weeks, and especially this afternoon, he surprised himself with a snort of laughter. “You may be right,” he chuckled, and, impulsively kissing Xander on the top of his head, he turned and headed for the stairs.
As it turned out he didn’t have to wait long at Daly’s, though arriving a few minutes early meant the mug of lager he’d gotten was almost gone when he heard a cheery voice over his shoulder just after nine o’clock. “Hello, Irish,” the voice said, and Kevin swung around on his stool, his pulse already speeding up as he anticipated what he might see.
There, beaming down at him where he sat with his trademark impish smile, was Will, standing directly in front of him and looking good enough to eat. He’d packed himself into a body-hugging, dark green compression tee that looked fucking amazing on him, set off by soft, black jeans that looked just as tight. He must have removed the front left pocket liner, because Will’s wide, fourteen-inch erection was thrusting rude and naked out of his jeans pocket, looking for all the world like that was exactly what jeans pockets were for. He watched as a big drop of precum dripped right onto the floor, unmarked in the tavern’s dim light and hectic, churning holiday atmosphere. Kevin’s wide eyes jumped quickly up to Will’s handsome face, and Will wiggled his eyebrows at him.
“Fuck,” Kevin said, his eloquence completely abandoning him, along with every inhibition he’d ever had.
In response to Kevin’s oath another handsome, green and black clad, extra-tall hunk stepped out from behind Will and threw a nicely muscled arm around his apparent twin, casually caressing the first Will’s shoulders with the same six-fingered hand that Kevin had had many opportunities to admire and dream about. “Sounds like a great idea,” the other Will said, grinning cockily at him.
Kevin had more or less expected this, though seeing both Wills in the flesh was enough to drive his heart to a frantic pounding, his mind close to capsizing in a heaving, swirling flood of raw desire. But then something happened that took Kevin completely by surprise. As he watched, a third Will stepped out from behind the others and wrapped a long, strong arm around the nearest of his dapper doppelgängers. “Your place,” the third Will said, “or ours?”
“Christ, you guys,” Kevin hissed as he clambered unsteadily to his feet, suddenly sure he might have only seconds to get out of this very public place before he doused a hundred revelers in more hot seed than they’d likely see in a month. “Christ!” he said again, his accent thickening in his distress. “D’you want to be making me cum right here in the tavern?” He turned away from the heady sight as the three Wills laughed softly, just audible of the raucous music and shouting voices of the pub. Jerkily he dropped a twenty from his pocket onto the bar and hustled blindly out into the night air. He crossed the street into a little park that was across from Daly’s, bending over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. There was a crowd of revelers at the other end of the park a hundred feet away, but here it was dark and quiet.
As soon as he straightened up, Kevin found himself surrounded by Wills. As he looked into their grinning faces and dancing eyes, Kevin realized for the first time that he was now a good three inches taller than his triplicate friend and sexy-as-fuck obsession.
They took up stroking him all over right there in the darkened park—ass, arms, pecs, cock. Kevin cleared his throat and asked, “So there were three of you all along, then?”
The Will that was more or less in front of him shook his head as he moved in to nuzzle the right side of Kevin’s neck. “There were two of us all along,” he corrected, lips brushing against Kevin’s warm skin.
The Will behind him moved in closer too, snaking arms around Kevin’s waist as he pressed himself hard against Kevin’s back and ass. He leaned up to whisper in Kevin’s ear, “I’m new.”
“Fu- u- u-ck,” Kevin shuddered. “You—you just grew another one of you?” he asked, his gigantic dick surging and swelling as they all wrapped their arms around him, holding him close as they slid their dry lips along his neck, his cheeks, his stubbly jawline. He wrapped his own arms around the two in front he could reach, wishing he could do more, even as a thrill of intense arousal roared though his body.
“That’s right,” the Will who hadn’t spoken yet murmured against his jaw. “We knew you’d guessed about there being two of us—” he went on, and the first Will finished, “—and we decided to surprise you.”
“Surprise,” the new Will behind him added, smiling against his earlobe. Kevin felt a light flick of a tongue and, knowing how talented that long, thick tongue could be, that alone almost sent Kevin into the throes of cascading, unstoppable orgasm.
“It’s been crazy hot being around you,” the Will nuzzling the right side of his neck said. His hands had snuck inside Kevin’s jacket and he was stroking Kevin’s long, tapered back with one multifingered hand and his enormous erection with the other. “There’s something about you that’s just—fucking irresistible.” He said this last with a little moan that almost made him sound drunk with desire.
“I knew it from the day I saw you in class,” the Will kissing under his left jawline said. “I knew I wanted to—do things to you. That I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”
“And then I had to see you for myself,” the one on his right said.
Kevin could barely think. “You—you’ve been trading off with me,” he said, connecting what the Wills had just told him. “I wasn’t sure.” He succumbed to his own desires and let himself grab a handful of ass from both of the Wills in front of him, jerking them closer to him as he did so, while the Will behind him ground his hard fourteen-inch hard-on needily into Kevin’s own round, recently perfected muscle butt. “So you don’t have the same mind,” he said, trying to get all the bits and pieces he’d collected to line up.
“Nope,” said one as he stroked Kevin’s chest. “But we share our memories back and forth with each other,” said another.
The Will behind him pressed his lips to Kevin’s ear and said, “I’m the new guy, and I remember ev-e-ry-thing.” He drew out the word as if Kevin had been personally driving him crazy for six long weeks.
Kevin closed his eyes, trying to fight through the tsunami of stimulation he was experiencing as the Wills upped their game. All three of them had a six-fingered hand on his monstrous cock, slick now and ready to blow at any second, while the other hand roamed his torso under his jacket as if he wasn’t wearing any clothes at all. “So did you really make a third, you know, one of you guys just to …surprise me?”
At this the third Will slipped around to the front, wrapping his arms around his fellow Wills’ bulging shoulders, and Kevin was faced once again with three of those beautiful faces, staring intently at him with lust-darkened eyes that were, as always, full of mischief. They were all aiming identical crooked grins up at him—Kevin found that he loved being just a bit taller than the supertall hunk he’d been falling for for weeks. The sight of the three Wills all looking straight into his eyes with naked desire and devious plans almost pushed him over the edge, his colossal dick and huge churning balls barely willing to be held back, straining as Kevin made himself wait, panting, heart pounding, for what they had to say next. A tickle in the back of his brain told him he thought he knew, and that it might be the most awesome idea ever proposed to him, but he had to hear it. He had to hear them say it.
“We had another motive,” one said. Kevin watched their full, oh-so-kissable lips move as they spoke, noticing for the first time that they all had a very slight bit of dark stubble tonight dusting their upper lips, chins, and jaws. Like Kevin, they liked the brush of stubble during kissing, he knew, and so like him they hadn’t shaved before coming out tonight to this meet-up that would inevitably change everything.
“We were thinking about how awesome it would be to have you between us,” another said, taking up the explanation. “Obsessing,” another put in.
“But then we thought,” said yet another Will, “if there were three of us, then we could have you between us and maybe, well—”
“—Maybe another, um, someone could be between us as well,” finished one of the other Wills.
Kevin looked at each of the Wills in turn, his heart clanging against his chest. He wasn’t sure he was even breathing. They were so cocky, he thought, but about this they were suddenly nervous, and it was fucking hot as hell.
“You know,” another Will said hurriedly, “it would be like, me, you, me,” he paused a fraction of a second as if he’d considered laying it out by saying “you” again, before amending, “er, someone, me,” he finished lamely.
Kevin’s heart nearly broke with the earnestness of the Wills’ aching desire to fold themselves around him. He gathered the three of them close in his arms and kissed them, once each and then two at a time, breaking away from the passionate kisses only when his still-pending orgasm threatened to finally sweep him and his lovers straight over the cliff.
He felt flushed and more aroused than he’d ever been in his life as he gave them his answer. “I’d,” he started to say, then swallowed, trying to push down the lump in his throat. He started again. “I’d …like to apply for that position,” he said, meeting each of their gazes in turn.
The three Wills grinned huge and pounced, drowning him in an orgy of two-, three-, and four-way kisses until suddenly Kevin couldn’t hold back anymore. An orgasm of prodigious size seemed to gather momentum at the base of his spine and expand outward, tearing through him like a supernova, and they all freed his colossal dick from behind his jacket and into the open air just in time for geysers of cum to rocket up out of his massive iron-hard wang. Kevin shuddered and shook, feeling more pleasure than he’d ever dreamed possible from the euphoric explosion and all the hands and lips and bodies pressed greedily against him, and he shot volley after ginormous volley of hot, white jism straight up into the air where it arced up two or three feet over their heads before gravity brought it back down, pelting them with what seemed like gallons of thick, warm cum. They laughed in delight and giddy relief as Kevin’s copious seed rained down on them. The Wills were cumming too, their fat oversized cocks shooting spurt after spurt of their own pent-up jizz as they groped and kissed him and each other, and Kevin knew that because somehow he could feel the edge of it, the fringes of their intermingled ecstasy blurring wondrously into his own. Kevin took a shuddering breath and they wrapped their arms tight around each other, holding each other up as the pleasure washed through them again and again, like a rolling, relentless tide.
“Fuck,” Kevin panted, “what you guys do to me.”
One of the Wills snickered at that, and his felt his cum-slick pole being fondly caressed by several hands again as the four of them languidly licked the warm cum off each other’s faces with their extra-long tongues. Kevin shivered, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was ready to go again, and maybe, that next time, it would be in a way he now wanted more than anything.
“Let’s go home and clean up properly,” one of the Wills said, and they started moving together as a group in the general direction of Will’s apartment building. He met Kevin’s lust-filled gaze as he continued, “We’ve got a big night ahead of us.”
The Wills’ saucy grins almost made him want to cum again, and laughed and bent to kiss the Will that was cheekily walking backwards in front of him, as if he couldn’t stop staring mischievously at their Kevin. Then he turned the Will around so that they all walk there as quickly and directly as humanly possible. “I can’t fucking wait,” he said. “I’ve got plans for you guys, too.”
Kevin had never been inside Will’s apartment building, and now he knew why—presumably, as few people as possible were aware that more than one Will Braddock lived at this address, and not until tonight had Kevin become officially in the know. Was he the only one that knew—or had figured it out? Kevin had no idea.
He stood on the walkway in front of the antique-white three-story townhouse, the bay window to the right of the front door warmly lit behind gauzy curtains, the upper two stories dark and strangely enticing. Kevin almost forgot for a moment that he was surrounded by tally, muscled, passionate Wills as he looked up at those tall, black-trimmed New England-style windows. Ever since he’d broken the ice a few weeks back and they’d kissed for the first time, right where they were now standing, a five or ten minute make-out session, before Will disappeared behind that big, brick-red door, had quickly become one of the things they did together. Like they way they’d held hands almost from the start, or the way Will tended to absently lick his lips with the tip of his long, pink tongue whenever Kevin’s gaze trapped his. Had the other Will ever stood at one of those windows, watching them kiss, his own fourteen-inch raging boner just as hard as theirs? Had the Will saying goodbye to Kevin then rushed up upstairs so they could make long, slow love to each other in private, sharing memories of their latest kiss with Kevin as they did so?
“I promise there’s no more of us up there,” one of the Wills said, bringing Kevin back to his surroundings. Two of the Wills were holding hands with him on either side, but they’d curled around toward him, each caressing one of his heavy pecs through his shirt with their free hands. The third Will was behind him, his arms wrapped around his waist now that they’d stopped, one hand stroking his chiseled abs under the tee. A cool breeze whipped around them, a little wintry still but not at all frigid, and Kevin found himself thinking he was grateful they’d come to this point after the gloves had been stowed away and he could feel those warm hands against him. They all seemed to be carefully avoiding his twitching monster cock, and Kevin guessed that was not from lack of interest so much as a fervent desire to save their ministrations until they had privacy.
Kevin wrapped his arms around the two Wills in front of him, wishing he could enfold them all in his strong embrace. “Too bad,” he shot back, winking at the Will stroking his left pec. His pulse sped up as their gazes met. He wasn’t used to looking down into those eyes. Once, back at the very beginning, Will had been the taller one, but now their positions were reversed, and Kevin could not get enough of Will’s sweet face tilted up to smile at him with devilish desire.
It was a dark evening, but a streetlight behind him was picking up the green in them so intensely they looked like bright, glittering emeralds. He felt the force of the Wills’ identical green-lit eyes watching him avidly, and when he flicked his gaze between them a shiver of pleasure and desire fluttered through him. He’d suspected—no, he’d known. But knowing, and then seeing… This was real. He was looking down at two identical Wills, amazingly cute and yet, at the same time, artful and knowing, lips quirked in exactly the same innocent-but-coy expression, each mind racing, he knew, with their long-brewing plans for what they’d do once revelation day had finally come—fuck, it took Kevin’s breath away, even as it made his over-generously expanded dick throb hard against his torso behind his jacket, freshly slicking Kevin’s already damp tee with more precum than he’d had for his whole load only a few short months ago.
Suddenly he felt the Will behind him press himself tighter against Kevin’s back, and a long erection ground gently against his round, tight ass. Kevin gasped. “Are we going to go inside?” the Will behind him said into his neck, just behind his ear. “We really want you, Kev, and really we can’t wait any longer.”
“They kind of frown on public sex out in this town,” right Will said.
“And there are things we want to do that are just for the four of us,” left Will added.
“Four of us… for now, that is,” right Will added, eyes sparkling with fantasies as yet unfulfilled.
Kevin remembered the part of their plans they’d shared with him back in the park—the “position” they wanted him to fill—and he felt as though he were getting a sudden and violent hard-on, despite the fact that he was already as rigidly boned as he could possibly be. His heart pounded as he looked down at the Wills in front of him, at the same time feeling the Will behind him pushing his own hard cock against Kevin’s perfect ass while caressing his tight abs. His gaze drilled into theirs. “I have to kiss you, right now,” he said. “Because that’s the start. And I sure as fuck can’t start it here.”
Before he’d even opened his tight embrace enough to let the guys free they’d grinned and turned to race each other up the walk toward the big brick-red set almost flush against the left side of the townhouse, the third Will bolting out from behind him and sprinting to catch up, all of them with identical key-rings out, building key at the ready. In seconds there was a scrum at the door as they each tried to push their own key into the lock.
Kevin laughed, covering the distance quickly at a fast lope. “I hope that’s not how you plan to fuck me,” he teased, even as one of the grinning Wills managed to get the lock open and pushed the door in.
“We’ll go up and get everything ready,” one or two of them said as they bundled into the house. Kevin only had time to notice that the door opened onto a large parlor lined with shelves packed with books in a million colors, shapes, and sizes before the Wills were pounding up the stairs laughing, still trying to push each other out of the way and get ahead of each other like they’d been brothers all their lives.
Kevin was grinning up after them, ready to sprint up the steps and catch up with them, maybe pushing them all over to make a rolling giggling pile of man, muscle and cock at the top of the stairs. He was just about to move when a voice from his right said, “They seem jazzed.”
Kevin turned, surprised. In one of the old-fashioned but comfortable-looking green-upholstered wing chairs by the bay window sat a young man with long, thick chestnut-brown hair and an acoustic guitar in his lap. His vivid, cerulean blue eyes were aimed up the narrow steps that the Wills had thundered up a second before, a crease between his brows. “Wait,” the stranger said, sounding confused, “I thought there were only two of them.”
Kevin blinked at him, unthinkingly brushing his own longer-than-usual sandy hair back with his fingers. The guy was very, very good looking, almost as though someone had set out to try to create the most stunningly handsome 20-year-old supermodel-slash-boy-next-door possible. His face was planed and sculpted, with a nice, firm stubble-dusted jawline, a not-too-long nose, dark eyebrows, and high cheekbones, and yet every line was gentle and clean, as the classic desirable proportions and features had been one-upped with an infusion of elegance and sweet simplicity. Thin-framed glasses only added to his perfection. Behind then, his dark lashes were long, and though it was hard to tell in this light his skin seemed to have a warm amber tone, maybe from being mixed race, that seemed to enhance the smooth beauty of his features and make those rich blue eyes seem almost subtly backlit, they way they stood out from his beautiful visage. His red lips were just full enough to quietly scream the word kissable. He was dressed neatly in a dark green blazer, a black tee, and jeans, and his hands were poised over the guitar, right hand over the strings near the sound hole, left hand on the neck ready to finger a chord—though he looked somehow as though he hadn’t been actually playing when he and the Wills had burst into the house like a boy-hurricane.
Kevin realized he should probably do his bit to keep up the Wills’ twinly “cover”. “He’s visiting,” Kevin extemporized, tilting his head toward the stairs. The prospect of a third twin, or, rather, triplet who’d gone to another school for some reason and just happened to be in town for the weekend had to be, he figured, a more plausible story than “no, there’s always been three of us” or “what do you mean, three?” or whatever joke response he half-anticipated the Wills coming up with, if only to troll their comely housemate. Then, to properly distract the other boy Kevin stepped forward and offered a hand. “Hi, I’m Kevin,” he said. He realized he probably still smelled of spunk, but there was nothing he could do about that now.
“Eli,” the handsome stranger said, reaching up and taking Kevin’s hand, eyebrows stretched high as he abruptly took in just how tall Kevin was as he loomed over him. “I, uh, have the third floor apartment.” Their hands clasped, and Kevin’s breath hitched. He knew the feeling he was presently experiencing. It was the feeling of shaking hands with someone whose hands were not quite the same as everyone else’s—and he knew even before he looked down what he’d see.
Except… he wasn’t quite on target. He’d expected to see the five-fingers-and-a-thumb configuration that had filled Kevin’s day-dreams and fantasies since that first Tuesday afternoon in anthro. And he was right, Eli definitely was definitely sporting extra fingers. More specifically, Eli was sporting six fingers and a thumb, all wrapped around Kevin’s hand like they were made to wrap around all kinds of things. Kevin’s towering cock spasmed involuntarily, and Kevin hoped his team jacket was doing its job of hiding his equipment and that Eli, who seemed pretty observant, wasn’t as aware of its all-commanding presence as Kevin himself was.
Eli had noticed Kevin’s surprised gaze drop to their joined hands, and considered their hands himself as well, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah,” he said slowly, as if contemplating a puzzle that Kevin had just noticed and that Eli had spent a lot of time thinking about. “I kinda grew a few extra fingers this semester.” He let go of Kevin’s hand so he wiggle his many fingers at him, before letting his paw drop onto the worn knees of his jeans, close to where his guitar rested across his lap.
Kevin wondered if Eli had any idea where those extras might have come from. Resisting an urge to look toward the stairs, he instead asked casually, “You like it?”
“Sure,” Eli shrugged. He was passing it off as no big thing, but Kevin had already gotten the impression that Eli kept his true feelings pretty close to the vest when he could. He probably liked the augmentation more than he’d be willing to let on, Kevin thought. “I have to relearn the guitar, which is a bitch and a half,” Eli admitted, frowning down at his instrument, “but then… I dunno, maybe there are some new possibilities there, too. And it… comes in handy sometimes,” he added with a glance up at Kevin with a half-smile. Then he winced. “No pun intended,” he added.
Kevin grinned at the ‘handy’ comment. “I can imagine,” he said. And he could imagine, very vividly.
“I’ll bet,” Eli said, blue eyes flicking toward Kevin’s jacket for the first time before falling again to consider his own hands. “If I had a behemoth like yours I’d want as much… coverage as possible,” he added, almost to himself.
Kevin blinked down at him and could not think of what to say. He thought about how he’d run into Xander before he’d left for the tavern and found himself hoping Eli wouldn’t ask to stroke it, too, they way guys apparently felt they had a right to these days. The truth was, Kevin was so keyed up from the building anticipation about the meet-up with the Wills and everything that had happened tonight already that there was a very real possibility even a caress or two from Eli would send him cumming into the stratosphere… again. And Kevin very, very much wanted his next orgasm—and, fuck, all future orgasms—to be the exclusive, sole purview of one Will Braddock… or rather, however many Will Braddocks there might be.
Eli papered over the awkward moment by playing a few chords, then abruptly changed the subject. “So,” he said cheerily, “you Irish for real, or just for St. Paddy’s Day?” He quirked his lips as he said it—more of Eli’s dry sense of humor.
“Irish for real,” he responded proudly, playing up his brogue.
“Nice.” Eli smiled a little wider. “You must be cleaning up tonight,” he added, casting a quick but appreciative look down and back up Kevin’s extra-tall, thick-muscled frame.
A noise behind him made Kevin turn to see all three Wills clustered near the foot of the stairs. They were shirtless now, their tanned, tightly muscled torsos almost glowing in the warm, soft light of the parlor, and barefoot too. Seeing them there, in a group, all wanting him, Kevin’s stomach fluttered with raw appreciation. They were watching him hungrily, obviously waiting with barely concealed impatience for their man—and Kevin was, unmistakably, their man—to come to them and spend the night making sweet, sweet love.
“Yeah, I guess you are,” Eli answered himself wryly in a low, quiet voice.
Kevin tore his eyes away from the Wills long enough to smile down at Eli. “It was nice to meet you, Eli,” he said, offering him a genuine if distracted smile before turning and hurrying toward his men. He barely heard the amused “You too, Kevin” before he was halfway up the stairs, and by the time he reached the landing he had more or less forgotten Eli completely.
The Wills’ apartment was the whole second floor—not huge, but grand enough compared to his dorm room. Fortunately the ceilings were pretty high so that Kevin didn’t feel vertically crowded once he’d ducked under the doorjamb and entered the small living room at the front of the house behind his three dates for the evening. Standing in the park surrounded by the tall, lanky Wills, whose eyes he now had to gaze down into, had got him thinking about his new, lofty height, and he’d already reckoned that if Will was about three inches taller than the six foot three he’d been at the start of the semester, and he now had three inches or so on him, that had to mean he was something like, jeez, six foot nine now. He remembered seeing a seven-foot-tall guy once in a YouTube video wearing a tee shirt that said “The weather up here is great, thanks for asking,” and he realized as he closed the apartment door behind him that he might need to track down some of that kind of stuff that for himself.
The living room clearly doubled as a study area—the sofa and both small desks were strewn with textbooks, paperbacks, notebooks, crumpled paper, and various pieces of technology including a couple of laptops, a tablet computer, and who knew what else—but Kevin had no time to look around as he was immediately and unceremoniously dragged out of the room and through the wide archway opposite the apartment door. He barely had a chance to glimpse a quaint-looking kitchen and adjoining breakfast nook before he was bundled into the big, square bedroom in the back. The walls were papered with a subtle paisley pattern in dark greens with a pale green trim for the baseboards and crown molding and the loose, gauzy curtains, which were drawn to reveal more of those tall windows that reached from knee-height nearly to the ceilings. They were dark now, with only a massive moonlit oak faintly visible out the tall window on the right, but Kevin had a vision of cascades of light from those windows filling this big, open space on a bright spring morning or a blustery autumn afternoon, and he very much hoped he’d have a chance to experience days like that here with Will, and the nights that went with them, too.
In pointed contrast to the careless clutter of the front room, the bedroom was neat and tidy enough for a magazine ad. Not only were there no clothes or belongings tossed haphazardly about on the gleaming hardwood floor, there was hardly anything in the room at all: just a antique-looking walnut bureau just to his right by a closet door, a couple of matching nightstands… and an enormous king-sized bed, flush against the right-hand wall and dressed in hunter-green sheets, onto which all three shirtless Wills were piling eagerly like overexcited puppies, indulging in a little impromptu wrestling while they watched Kevin take it all in.
“You ready for us, Irish?” one of them said as they collapsed against the pillows and each other, all of them flushed and grinning.
“C’mon, give us a show,” another said.
“We’ve been waiting for this forever,” complained a third with a huge grin.
Kevin grinned back at them, a little crookedly. He’d half figured that the Wills, with all their playful aggression—not to mention numerical superiority—would take charge of everything, and he’d just have to let himself be pulled through and follow instructions. Their fourteen-inch cocks were all still thrust out through their cut-out pockets and exposed, leaking onto the sheets and each other, but they valiantly kept their hands away from them, stroking their own torsos or the chest and tight abs of whichever Will was sprawled across him. The gorgeous pile of Wills made Kevin almost ready to burst.
He felt a little nervous under those three sets of laughing, glittering eyes. Something in him wanted to pull back, to not take this road, because this was the moment of truly committing to whatever he and the Wills would be together. Could he be what the Wills wanted him to be? He hadn’t been out of the closet that long and didn’t have that much experience with guys, and his confidence stuttered. In that moment he almost quailed, part of him telling him to back away, out the door, to keep himself to what was safe and knowable.
But he knew that wasn’t what he wanted. This was Will. Kevin wanted the thrill of skirting the unknown with him. More than that, he wanted Will. This was way beyond that the powerful attraction they’d had for each other since day one. What he felt for Will was more potent, more intense, than any connection he could ever have imagined.
Kevin brushed his overlong sandy hair behind his ears and eyed his boys with a wry grin. “I see your game,” he drawled. He grabbed the edge of his jacket—the right side, which was not the side his massive erection was snuggling behind—and teasingly fluttered it open and closed a few times for his audience, letting them see where he tee clung to his muscular torso. “I’m just a big slab of meat to you guys, aren’t I?”
They hooted and cheered appreciatively. “Take it off!” one of then sang out.
Kevin dramatically flicked his dark blue team jacket completely off his shoulders, exposing his bulging traps and delts, and the guys whistled and cheered. Throwing his hands behind him he let the weight of the jacket slide down his arms, and a moment later it hit the hardwood behind him with a soft lumpf. He stood there in just his skin-tight, deep-green, slightly stretchy, long-sleeved, jizz-and-precum-stained tee, those loose-cut jeans that were nonetheless a good bit tighter than they should be, socks, boots, and a mighty, red-flushed, damp-tipped erection thrusting obscenely up out of his waistband and straining up and to the left, stretching desperately to touch that pert, pebbled nipple poking out the thin fabric of his tee.
The Wills clung to each other as if to hold themselves back, agape and staring with sheer adulation. “Hurry the fuck up, Irish,” one of them said impatiently.
“We can’t keep our hands off you much longer,” added another.
Kevin gave them a predatory smile. “You’ll touch me when I let you,” he said, not sure where the impulse to take charge had come from. The Wills oooed at him and bit their lips, obviously delighted, keeping hold of each other as they watched him with rapt concentration. To emphasize his admonition he took one pointed step back. But he wanted to give them something too. He moved his right hand very deliberately behind his head and, firmly grabbing the fabric below the nape of his neck, he hauled the tee shirt off his hard-muscled, bulging torso in one swift movement. Yanking it the rest of the way off his wrists he flung the shirt aside as if such garments were all behind him now forever.
“Holy fuck,” one of the Wills said. They were all positively vibrating with barely contained desire. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the three lanky hunks in the bed, Kevin bent and drew off first one boot, then the other, his huge cock painting curves across his torso and up onto his weighty pecs as he bent and shifted. Then he straightened up and stood before them in just his jeans and argyle socks. He wiggled his toes, unexpectedly aware of just how big his feet were these days.
“What do you think, guys?” he asked, one eyebrow arched. “Should I leave the socks on?”
“Naked,” one of the Wills said immediately, eyes wide and dark with lust. “Buck naked,” another seconded firmly, and a third added, “Bare ass fucking naked.”
Kevin beamed salaciously at them. The three Wills were practically straining as they held themselves back, loving the show but wanting to touch and feel and lick the vision of masculinity before them. “Your wish… is my pleasure,” he said, pitching his voice low and rough. “But you guys—you’re leaving those jeans on until I’m done with you.” One of the Wills breathed out a barely audible fuuu-u-u-uuuck at that.
The room was quiet, the soft whipping of the cool evening breeze around the backyard oak and across the surfaces of the house barely masking the hard, heavy breathing of the three men unable to look anywhere but at the pale giant standing before them, at Kevin’s giant, muscled, overendowed form, their shared commitment to each other written into the intensity of the Wills’ stares as he rose before them like a monolith, and in Kevin’s stare back, drawing them in like lust written on the motes of air filling the room between them, seeping into every corner and every space, crackling through Kevin’s body. The Wills were watching him like they could see only him, and it was right there, palpable between them—a fierce longing in their dark emerald eyes.
Kevin was taken by the wonder of it. To have this—to be able to touch, to hold to kiss—and to go places he could go with no one else on Earth. His heart swelled, and his cock seemed to wrench itself into a new level of uncanny, soul-buzzing arousal. Kevin licked his lips with his long, wet tongue and reached for the button on his jeans.
He was still giving them the show, but things had gotten more intense now, more serious, and he released the button and opened the fly in a motion that was almost solemn. It occurred to him that they already knew his cock, had seen it as it grew into the large, unwieldy and unhideable colossus it was now even if they’d never touched it before tonight—but they had never seen his big, hairy balls. For some reason that struck Kevin as funny, and he smiled slightly, a lopsided, crooked thing, as he slowly eased his jeans down, inch by inch, past his hips, off his ass, past his thick, mostly hairless thighs, and let them drop to pool around his ankles. Still without taking his eyes off the staring, quivering, lust-flushed triplicate of Wills snuggling each other close in the bed, Kevin pulled one sock-clad foot free, then kicked the jeans away, in the opposite direction from where he’d tossed the shirt, in the other.
The room smelled of crisp March chill and imminent sex.
One final pair of moves to make. He and the Wills watched each other as Kevin bent and, as with the boots, slowly drew off first one sock, then the other, flinging them both away toward the jeans. Then he stood, huge and, he knew, beautiful in the Wills’ eyes. “Here I am, guys,” he said. “Naked… buck naked… bare ass fucking naked. And all yours.”
The Will that was closest to Kevin, the one that had been leaning back against the other two, sat forward and twisted back—making room for him, Kevin realized with a quickening of his already tripping pulse. His green eyes glinted as he said, “Come here.”
Xander Copeland stood across the street from the narrow white townhouse, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He’d always rubbed his neck when he was conflicted, and if his brothers were here they’d razz him for it like they always did, but now the familiar gesture felt eerily different, like finding yourself in an alternate universe where everything’s the same except here Abraham Lincoln really was a vampire hunter. What was throwing him off was the bunching of his biceps as he shifted his hand back and forth. They weren’t big, certainly not like Kevin’s or even Kev’s sexy friend Will’s, but Xander had always felt comfortable in his skinny gamer-nerd body. He’d been firming up, defined muscles swelling gently on his neglected frame, and Xander was finding it a little weird. Nice, especially the way the cute, goth-lite work-study cashier he had a slight crush on at the dining hall seemed to be noticing him lately; but still… weird.
Of course that was nothing compared to what was happening to his magnetically gorgeous roommate Kevin. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be noticing or not—especially as Kevin himself seemed barely aware of it at first, at least until he’d progressed to actively pretending nothing was going on—but over the last two and a half months Kevin had been getting bigger. And bigger. Xander spent a fair amount of time with him, studying separately in their room, playing the latest multiplayer shooters on Xander’s state-of-the-art Kaleidoscope 2 system, even heading to the dining hall for dinner together a few times a week, and Xander was no dope. You can’t be a good gamer if you’re not detail-oriented, and Kevin’s details had been building up in leaps and bounds. From the beginning Kev had had a good six or seven inches on Xander’s admittedly runty five foot eight and a half, but these days—fuck, Kevin had to be a whole foot taller than him, at least. A six-inch growth spurt? In your sophomore year in college? Fuck, just the thought of how strange and awesome it was made Xander’s dick hard. And then, all that muscle—it was like it was packed on by some godly sculptor who was slowly tweaking and augmenting Kevin to be the most ridiculously hot guy that could possibly exist.
And that dick. Fuck. Xander stopped stroking his neck and let his arm just hang there, thinking in awe about the first time he had seen that big, hard, damp cock of Kevin’s pushing rudely out of his pants. And then how it seemed that it was always shoving out of his pants, unwilling to stay hidden, too big to remain cloistered behind shorts and jeans. How it had kept growing, even faster than Kevin himself it seemed, while Xander had to try not to notice, not to stare at it, salivating, every hour of every day. Now it was there all the time, so huge and so intensely present in the room it was like a third roommate. It was always hard now, or at least so it seemed to Xander, and radiating so much heat Xander longed for a snowy day so he could curl up with it, Kevin’s arms wrapped around him indulgently as he snuggled Kev’s supercock. It was also usually flushed and wet at the tip with eruptions of pre as it shoved ridiculously tall and proud out of whatever pants Kevin was wearing. Kevin seemed to be trying to ignore it, and Xander tried to do the same, but it was almost impossible. He wanted to touch it all the time, to rub the long, thick shaft against his cheek, to lick every fucking inch of it. Thank god Shirtless Noah had come up with those “rules” about the guys on the floor getting to stroke it a few times if he was “flaunting” it—and fuck, Kevin was always flaunting it because with that thing he had no choice.
Xander had had a chance to run his hands along its fat length just a few hours earlier. Fuck, he’d even risked stealing a dollop of Kev’s sweet-smelling pre and tasted it. The memory made him shiver all over, and pushed his own cock back into the full and almost uncomfortably rigid erection he’d been weaving in and out of for days. It flexed against his waistband and under his shirt, wanting release. Xander wanted his mouth around it in the worst way.
That was another thing. Most people didn’t know it, but Xander was at the far end of the scale in terms of flexibility—enough so that he could have been a gymnast, or even a contortionist, if he’d wanted to bother with the training involved. Once he’d tried that move where you lie on your chest and arch your legs all the way around over your head so that your feet are planted on the ground next to your shoulders, and he found he could do it pretty easily; more than that, he’d been crossing his ankles behind his head and shoulders since he was a kid, though his brothers gave him so much friendly teasing that he started only doing it when he was alone. Of course, they’d given him hell about how he was only going to use his freaky ability to suck his own dick 24/7 as soon as he was old enough—and when he was old enough, Xander tried, but no matter how tight he twisted himself, his boner just… wouldn’t… reach.
Until now, that is. Now, he could get almost four inches of what had somehow turned into a long, extra-thick, way-way-bigger-than-average cock into his hot, eager mouth. Which meant that these days the only thing that got his mind off of Kevin’s huge, expanded dick was the craving he felt nearly all the time now for the taste of his own fat, delicious cock.
His dick twitched just at the idea as he stood there in the cool evening on that mostly deserted street, making a small wet spot that was just visible a quarter of the way up his midnight blue Prisoners of Tyrannos VII tee shirt under his insulated windbreaker. His mouth watered, and for the umpteenth time he considered going home and taking advantage of what was clearly going to be a night with the dorm room to himself to have a huge, decadent, marathon autofellatio session that lasted so long he’d never be able to unbend himself and would just have to live the rest of his life with his legs behind his back and his newly huge dick in his mouth. But he resisted the impulse. He had had a hunch he should follow Kevin, and his hunches when he was gaming were almost always on point. Something was going to happen tonight that would mean he’d finally find out why Kevin was turning into a gorgeous, smiling sex giant and why Xander himself had managed to get the junior buff-up and cock upgrade package along the way.
Usually Xander’s natural curiosity was vented into tirelessly exploring the hidden secrets of all the video games he played, old and new. But the way Xander’s body wasn’t the same anymore kind of felt like he was a player in someone else’s game—and as much as he liked it, he needed to know what he was, either accidentally or deliberately, being made a part of.
After their encounter in the hall as Xander returned from a Friday afternoon study session at the library (because getting your studying and assignments done during the day left nights blessedly free for slaughtering demons and machine-gunning zombies), Xander had dithered only a moment, watching Kevin’s retreating back, before impulsively deciding to act on that hunch and follow him to Daly’s. He’d taken a spot in an inconspicuous corner amid the boisterous, hilarious revelers in line of sight to where Kevin perched on the end of a stool at the bar, just in time to spot Kev’s friend Will emerge from the back. Right on his heels, following him out of the back corridor and grinning just as wide as Will, was—Will’s identical twin brother. It had to be. And then, just behind him, a third brother, exactly identical to the other two down to the clothes, the hair, the way they moved, and most of all the mischievous, shit-eating grin.
Xander knew a little about identical twins, seeing as how two of his older brothers were of that rarified ilk; and not only had Luke and Logan grown up to be very different people, but their divergent personalities made them look perceptibly different from each other despite everything that was genetically the same. Even if they dressed alike as a joke and matched up their hair and so on, even a stranger could see differences between them thanks to the subtle variations created by demeanor, attitude, habits, different life experiences, and all the other intangibles that separated one person from another. But as Xander watched these guys move toward a so-far unsuspecting Kevin, obviously having conspired to conceal the third brother behind the first two for maximum impact, he was struck by how uncannily indistinguishable the three of them were. He’d hung out with Will and Kevin on several occasions at the dorm and out for meals, and he was absolutely sure he wouldn’t be able to pick Will out of that triple line-up—and even as he was thinking that the thought came to him unbidden that maybe Will himself couldn’t either.
The shock revelation of the third brother had the desired effect in spades, evidently—so much so that Kevin, overwhelmed by the sight of what looked like three copies of the tall, hunky trouble-maker Kevin had been slowly falling for all these weeks, suddenly jumped up off the edge of his stool and bolted for the door, Will and his brothers hot on his heels. By the time Xander had shouldered his way past a cluster of drunken oafs and—distractingly—the cashier guy from the dining hall (who gave him a surprised smile) and gotten out into the cool night air outside the tavern, Kevin and the three brothers had assembled in the park across the street where his giant, megahung roommate was——Xander froze, astonished and mesmerized, as he watched Kevin releasing his climax so spectacularly that huge gouts of cum were rocketing up over Kevin’s head, painting the four of them in a literal shower of what looked like gallons of Kevin’s prodigious, hot spunk. It was all Xander could do not to cum himself. This was not just live, in-person porn—this was the fantasy man he’d been living with, the man who’d been getting him hard all the time just from the proximity of his amazing, towering muscle-bod and his incredible oversized tool, not mention all the pheromones somebody that hot was probably pouring out all the time; and Xander had just had a front-row seat as three smirking, super-hot hunks had gotten him off like an exploding supernova. Xander’s cream was screaming to get out and was probably backed up all the way to Albuquerque.
In a daze he watched them as they laughingly cleaned each other up and made some kind of plans, though he couldn’t hear most of it—afraid of being spotted stalking his roommate, Xander was lurking just out of earshot. Still the chill night air carried sporadic words over to him, mostly coming from the slightly higher-pitched voice Will and his brothers had… words like “memories” and “obsessing” and (gulp) “… between us”. Then they started moving off together, presumably to find someplace private to try out that “between us” thing, and Xander couldn’t help but follow them. He’d trailed after them as they’d walked and smiled and flirted, until finally he’d stopped where he was now, in the spot across the street from where the four men had laughingly disappeared behind a large, friendly-looking, dark-red door only a moment or two before.
He was psyching himself up. He felt a part of this now, and he wanted to know more; and something told him that the answers he was looking for were inside that white townhouse. He trusted his instincts. He brushed his fast-growing, once-lanky but now lush jet-black hair out of his eyes and firmed his resolve.
He was going to go knock on that door. And what happened after that, happened.
Will felt his eyes roll back into his head as Kevin, crouching over them in glorious nudity, let his big, hot, luscious mouth close slowly around the head and the top five inches of Will’s extra-large and very sensitive cock. Pleasure crackled through him, almost more pleasure than he thought he could handle, and he had to force himself back from the edge of climax. He had left his jeans on as instructed, and he was lying on his side now, half his thick, towering tool erupting up into the air and at an angle out of the cut-out pocket—or at least it had been before Kevin had engulfed it in moist heat and had started working it with passionate diligence using lips, suction, and that devilish extra-long tongue. Behind him, another Will ground into him hard, though he knew his double’s cock was trapped in place by the pocket-hole and was angled toward where the wall joined the ceiling like a fat, fleshly howitzer. The Will behind him growled as he kissed and licked Will’s neck where it met his nicely bulging traps even as Kevin took him in deeper, and Will shuddered with pleasure. At the edge of his sensations he could feel what his “brothers” were feeling, especially when it was this intense, and he knew that the euphoria he was feeling as Kevin masterfully sucked him was bleeding uncontrollably over into what the other two Wills were feeling, sending them soaring as dizzyingly high as he was. He reached down and behind him and took hold of the other Will’s thick, slick cock, shivering with overlapping joy as he felt the rock-hard, pulsing manhood fill his hand while, at the same time, experiencing the same cock being grabbed and lovingly stroked while Kevin fellated them into oblivion.
The third Will was underneath Kevin, engaged in stroking Kevin’s mammoth dick with both hands, and Kevin was making little noises that said Kevin was very pleased with what was going on down there. Will was immersed in the magnificent blow job Kevin was giving him, but he let the periphery of his sensations drift to the feeling of Kevin’s huge cock in his hands—and it felt so amazing he gasped aloud, and again had to force himself back from a wild, unrestrained climax. He’d only just gotten himself under control when the other Will began mouthing the head of Kevin’s cock. With a grunt Kevin yanked himself up off Will’s dick and panted, “I’m not going to be able to hold back if you keep doing that.” By way of answer the other Will leaned forward and took all of Kevin’s pre-slick, salty head into his mouth, and suddenly, instantly, all three Wills were thrown against the very edge of orgasm.
Kevin moaned so loudly it was almost a scream. “Guys! Guys! I’m gonna—I’m gonna——”
“Us too!” Will said, and suddenly he was releasing, exploding cum, and Kevin bent and took it, and he was cumming into Kevin’s mouth, and cumming as his hand held his cock, and cumming untouched out of yet a third cock, and Kevin was cumming in his mouth, and the massive, shared orgasm was beyond anything Will had experienced in all the playing around he’d done with himselves. And even has he rocketed into new levels of cosmic ecstasy, more orgasms hitting them and cascading through their connected minds, Will felt it happening. He wanted the next step. He wanted the vision he’d had for he wasn’t sure how long—two Kevins, fucking, being fucked, Wills on every side of them. The power welled up in them, stronger than ever before… a replication wave unlike anything he’d ever released—a giddy orgasm of magic that sent them rolling backwards into a deep, blissed-out blankness.
The long-haired, caramel-skinned student with the blazer and glasses who answered the door sure wasn’t Will or Kevin, but he did qualify as the most almost-unbearably beautiful man Xander had ever seen. Without even thinking about it he reached up and cupped that perfect jaw, sliding his little finger under the jawline and his thumb along his smooth, sweet cheek. “Sorry,” he apologized, but he didn’t move his hand away. “Guys must do this to you all the time.”
Xander realized the beautiful man’s dark blue eyes were locked on his, seemingly registering surprise and… something else. “Only if I like what I see,” the man said softly. “And if they don’t have someone else.”
Xander swallowed and nodded. He thought his dick was hard before, but it turned out he didn’t know from hard. He stared hard into those deep blue eyes, their color so rich it almost seemed luminescent, while keeping up the little caresses on the stranger’s cheek with his thumb.
Almost diffidently, the beautiful man said, “I, uh, don’t know you, but… if you came inside for a minute, would you let me hug you and maybe kiss you for a while?”
Xander spoke before the other man had a chance to second-guess his tentative request. “Yes,” he said. And then, “Fuck yes.”
Without taking his hand from the other man’s face Xander moved carefully into the front room of the house and closed the door behind him. The too-handsome stranger slid strong arms around Xander’s lithe frame, drawing their heated crotches within barely an inch of each other.
“I’m Eli,” the stranger said, lips unexpectedly close to Xander’s, though their eyes were still locked on each other’s, so that glinting blue was almost all Xander could see.
“Xander,” breathed Xander. And then Xander’s hand was slipping around Eli’s neck and their lips and bodies were crashing together, as if the exchange of names was all that had kept them from a lifetime of kissing and holding each other. Xander snaked his arm around Eli’s back, wanting to get under that blazer but knowing he could wait as he pulled their bodies even closer. His heart pounded hard as they kissed like long-separated lovers, Eli opening for him easily and letting his tongue twine around Xander’s; while down below their equally huge erections mashed together in carnal pleasure, Xander’s fat tool finding deep delight at pushing against—fuck, was that two huge, wide cocks Eli was hiding down there under his jeans and shirt?
Xander groaned and kissed harder, like his life depended on it. And then, after they’d been making out for minutes, or hours, or he didn’t know how many eternities, a strange euphoric sensation came over him, like an orgasm that seemed to be filling the air. And he was cumming, and so was Eli, but it was like the whole house was erupting in climax, and Xander felt a strange kind of pleasure like nothing he’d ever known before…
Kevin was laughing. “I don’t believe you guys,” he said, staring down at the Wills in awed bemusement. “I thought you were just going to dupe me?”
“We got carried away,” one of the Wills said.
Kevin was crouching at the end of the king-sized bed, and he didn’t have to look to his left and his right to know the other two Kevins were sporting the same expression of amused disbelief that he was. “You duped me twice!” he said, as if wondering out loud to the waitress about how he’d ended up with a double helping of those amazing Cajun fries at the Wednesday Diner.
“We didn’t mean to,” another Will said. They were sweaty and sex-rumpled and completely adorable, and Kevin just wanted to take them in his arms and do unspeakable things to them.
“And you duped our cocks!” put in the Kevin to his right, not at all complaining. As if in confirmation, both of his impossible erections tapped wetly against the middle of his gargantuan left pec, one after the other, making the equally gargantuan right pec look weirdly bereft of cock. All three of them had two behemoth erections—but then, so did the Wills, crowding uncomfortably out of those cut-out pockets and looking, like his, considerably bigger than before.
“It got out of hand,” defended of the Wills said.
“But—” sputtered the Kevin to his left, sounding as sexily befuddled as he and the other Kevin were, “why did you dupe yourselves?”
The hot, flushed pile of six Wills gazed up at the Kevins in wonder and adulation. As Kevin watched they clambered gracefully to their knees, moving together in easy interaction, like there had been six of them forever. Kevin felt a giddy rush of anticipation as they moved closer to the three giants, two to a Kevin, looking up at them with hungry green eyes.
“We don’t quite know how it happened,” said one of the Wills directly in front of him, firm pecs still glistening with sweat.
“But we’re glad it did,” said another Will, gazing up almost reverently at the Kevin to his right. And then the time for talking was over, as all six Wills took a Kevin-cock for himself and, with mouth, hands, arms, and torso, began devoting themselves to driving the Kevins gradually and unstoppably into soul-wrenching bliss that would make him forget what it had ever been like before he’d met the man of his dreams.
And even as the Wills and Kevins fell into what would only be another in an endless succession of lovemaking bouts punctuated by heart-shattering, explosive orgasms magnified across multiple connected minds, down in the parlor two sets of Elis and Xanders carried on with their urgent make-out sessions, barely aware of their twinned bodies, their doubled erections, or any of the other, more subtle changes that the Wills’ increasingly advanced and triple-reinforced magic had spread, without their knowing, well beyond the privacy of their bed.
Boneless, sweaty, and sated, the Kevins slumped back onto the big king-sized mattress more or less lengthwise, though pale, muscled arms, legs, and shoulders overlapped each other willy-nilly in the open, moonlit bedroom as they settled heavily into positions they hoped never to have the move from again. The Wills, meanwhile, though just as submerged in the lush, drowsy transports of post-coital euphoria, were making a languid game of piling on top of the Kevins as if their brawny, overgrown and overcocked Irish boyfriends were the bed, snuggling their tanned, lanky, stretched-gymnast bodies into their cushy stratum of muscle hunks with lots of happy hmmms and contented sighs. The Wills smiled indulgently, eyes closed and drifting on simple gratification edged with the flaring remains of orgasmic pleasure the likes of which they’d never imagined possible.
The Kevin in the middle was feeling especially fortunate, as he got to the one most surrounded by firm, wonderful maleness as they floated on their blissful cloud of sweet, carnal intimacy. Both of the other Kevins were overlapping with him, the one on his right had his shoulder across his, his head turned on the pillow so that his face was close enough he could feel his warm, steady breaths across his cheek, and the Will on his left had both legs draped across his. At least four Wills were curled up either on him or near enough to feel some part of them resting heavily against him. Two of them were spooning more or less on top of him, arms around each other, their tousled heads nuzzling his thick, spunk-smeared pecs; the little spoon had his hand splayed along the lower edge of the hefty pec-meat he was using as a pillow, two of his many fingers drifting idly across the much-abused nipple they found there. A third Will was lying mostly on the half-dozing Kevin to his left, but he’s laid his head and chest across Kevin’s shoulder and upper arm—and Kevin’s hand had somehow ended in exactly the right position to be cupping that Will’s billiard-ball-sized nuts, while the Will’s heavy cocks slumbered fitfully along Kevin’s wrist and forearm.
All of this wonderful and reassuring contact was giving him enough of a horny, man-loving buzz that his own too-big cocks were improbably twitching as if they might actually find their way to a—would it be a fourth? fifth?—erection and earth-shattering climax that night, his balls churning sympathetically as if to say they’d be game if their tubular compatriots were. He smiled at his junk’s indomitable optimism and settled into the feeling of pleasure to be had surrounded by muscle, cocks, and the man he… had… really strong feelings for.
He wasn’t really in doubt about what he felt for Will, or, rather, the Wills. He was drawn to them, not just physically but emotionally. There was a driving need for them that seemed to originate in his balls, of course, and the idea of fucking them again, of getting fucked by them again, gave him a warm feeling, like the future was nothing but warm sunny fields… assuming those field were full of guys fucking. But he didn’t just need to fuck the Wills. He needed to be with them. To hold them, to feel firm, warm contact with them, holding their tall, lithe, tight-muscled bodies, touching their tan skin, kissing their full, eager lips. His heart ached at just the idea of not being near them, seeing their saucy, knowing smile and the glint in those mischievous green eyes. He wanted to spend all his time with them and talk with them about anything and everything. He wanted to eat with them and sleep with them and go on long motorcycle trips through redwood forests with them. There was something about the unpredictability of the Wills, that playful X-factor, that Kevin felt oddly reassuring, like a promise that life wasn’t just what it appeared to be. He wanted that in his life. He wanted it so much, in fact, that it was painful to imagine it not being there. Instead he let himself enjoy the feel of the Wills curled up against him, and the faint cool breeze wafting around them from the partially opened window at the far end of the big bedroom. The Will resting on his left pec dipped his head a little to kiss the sweat-damp and cum-coated bristle of hair along his sternum, in what was becoming a bit of actual cleavage, as he snuggled more firmly against the Will in front of him, and a satisfied smile settled on Kevin’s lips.
He felt as though he should be thinking about the other Kevins, and how weird it should be for there to be two more of him—but he just wasn’t feeling it. He didn’t understand why, but having the other Kevins with him, especially close to him, physically touching him so that their hard muscles pressed against each other, felt fundamentally right and altogether normal. There was, it had to be said, the faintest existential twinge at the thought that he wasn’t sure he was the “original” Kevin, but he was also absolutely certain it didn’t matter. There was a tacit feeling of likeness with the two Kevins on either side of him, as though even as separate being with their own minds and motivations they were part of the same idea, like risen dough that’s been separated into three separate lumps and baked into three loaves of the same kind of bread.
There was a latent connection, too, that lapped on the shores of his mind, ready for him to wade in when he was ready. He could feel a remote sense of the others’ “Kevinness”—their thoughts and reactions that were very much like his own, the sheer languid contentment they were all experiencing, and their shared, intense desire for the Wills, all as if through layers of pallid, gauzy curtains like the ones gently rippling over the Wills’ bedroom windows. He knew that the Wills themselves had lived more or less separately, even attending different classes, but that they could then share their experiences, so that they all knew and in a sense had lived through the same things. After years of living as “twins” they seemed to do it instinctively, maybe even subconsciously, and maybe Kevin would get to that point too—but for now he was enjoying being one of the Kevins, feeling their comforting presence with him as part of himself.
Kevin’s practical side was tugging at him to think about the future, and Kevin suspected it wanted him in particular to start mulling over the logistics of living as three people. Kevin couldn’t be bothered, though. Contentment was sinking deep into him, like it was being taken into his nature and being made a part of him. Still… he couldn’t help but muse that while this was a perfect moment of simple, masculine bliss, maybe nine people should have more room to spread out in if any of them wanted to get some actual, restful sleep as they all curled up together.
The Kevin whose face was turned toward his, so that he could feel his warm breaths, squirmed a little under his heavy blanket of Wills and settled into a new position, sighing happily. “We’re going to need a bigger bed,” he said muzzily.
Kevin smiled, and though he kept his eyes closed he could feel the other Kevins were smiling gently too. “I was just thinking that,” he murmured. Maybe the Wills could do something about the… bed thing, he thought vaguely. After all, if they could make Kevin bigger, why not the bed?
“Yeah, get on that, guys, would ye?” the third Kevin said from his other side, as if following up on the same line of thought, or picking up on Kevin’s. Kevin was distracted from the extent of their porous mentalities by the sound of his own voice, or, rather, the sound of the other Kevins’ voices. Even to Kevin his own voice sounded languid and sexy, and the Wills on top of them stirred, reacting to something they found pleasingly stimulating about their hot, Irish boyfriends.
“Mmm, it’s too late,” one of the Wills said. “There’s no stores open,” said another. “And we’re totally not going anywhere anytime soon,” said a third.
Kevin listened to the tenor of their voices, intrigued. He’d been in the States since he was a boy and had long gotten used to the flatter American way of speaking, though his own Irish lilt had clung to him like a birthmark. But hearing his fellow Kevins speak out loud with his own gentle brogue followed by the very American-sounding Wills highlighted the pleasant contrast between the two, like the way spending time with his immense rogues’ gallery of brothers reattuned his ears to the Emerald Isle and made the Mid-Atlantic accents of his friends, teammates, and professors sound engagingly foreign all over again on his return. There was no denying Kevin liked the way his own voice sounded, but he liked listening to the Wills’ warm, sweet timbres even more, even now when all of them were so tired and happy they were slurring their words and barely making sense.
“No, I mean…” the Will on his left argued, “just… make th’ bed bigger.”
“Yeah,” Kevin seconded. That’s what he’d been thinking too. He sure wasn’t going anywhere tonight, much less to a furniture store. “Just make the bed bigger.”
“Like you did us,” the Kevin on his right said. His shifting had brought their faces close enough that their noses were touching, and this made Kevin wonder if it would be very long before he had the energy to move in for a long, luscious kiss with his fellow self. He felt his sleepy dicks surge a little at the thought, and he rubbed his nose gently against the other Kevin’s in open-ended invitation.
“It duzzen work like that,” one of the Wills murmured, semi-coherently.
“It’s like… we replicate organic stuff,” said another into someone’s arm—his own, Kevin realized belatedly. Man, he couldn’t think. His brains felt like pancake batter.
“Cells,” mumbled a third. “Like that microscope slide.” Kevin had been following so farm, but he wasn’t sure what Will meant by that bit. Had they discovered their abilities duping cells on a slide in science lab? Maybe, or maybe Will was having an interesting half-asleep dream.
“No cells in a Posturepedic,” concluded one of the first to speak.
“‘Cept the ones we soaked it with tonight,” added another, and some of the Wills giggled.
“No, can’t be,” objected a fourth abruptly after a moment. It was the one whose head was resting on Kevin’s right pec, the one whose fingers were toying drowsily with his still-slightly-sore nipple. Kevin could feel his lips moving against the dense flesh of his chest. “‘Member from bio? Human body’s not all cells.”
There was beat, as if the Wills were being forced to realize a minor but significant aspect of their abilities they hadn’t quite absorbed before—a challenge in their present state. “Right,” said one of the Wills to Kevin’s right at length. “Bones and stuff. Cartilage.”
“Collagen,” corrected another.
“Colgen,” agreed the other Will.
“Righ’,” slurred the Kevin on his left. “So get to it, ye…” Even as he spoke, though, Kevin could feel his other self sliding happily into unconsciousness, and the instruction went unfinished.
“Yeah, all right,” mumbled one of the Wills.
“We’ll get right on that,” said another.
A moment or two later they were all blessedly asleep.
Xander had been making out with the heart-poundingly gorgeous and almost irresistibly magnetic long-haired caramel boy—Eli, he said his name was Eli, he reminded himself—for an unguessably long time before he started to sense that they weren’t alone in the softly lit living room of the house he’d followed Kevin to. There were more of the wet, smacking noises you make when you’re kissing (even if you pretend you don’t) than was accounted for by just them. And though his eyes were closed in the profoundly deep satisfaction that came from kissing someone you needed to kiss and holding their hard body close against yours, wrapping your arms around each other like they belonged there, something was nonetheless registering to him in a way that felt like peripheral vision—like there was that sense of motion and presence where your sixth sense tried to warn you about things your eyes hadn’t seen yet.
And there was something else, too, some kind of… commonality, like a…
Xander couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something going on in this room, outside his perfect embrace with Eli, that he was a part of, or that was a part of him.
He broke the kiss again, gasping, and offered the left side of his neck for Eli’s mouth and lips and tongue to savage, as the other side had already been treated to similar intense ministrations. He shifted his buttcheeks where Eli was groping them (with hands that were very good at covering a lot of area), hearing him moan gently as he mauled the sensitive place where Xander’s neck and shoulders met. He held Eli tight against him, stroking his long, nicely V-shaped back under his dark blazer, their cocks grinding mercilessly together between them. Well immersed in these multivariate pleasures, with the idea sinking in that he might never be willing to let Eli go (possibly literally), Xander nonetheless let his eyes flutter open, allowing, as he’d subconsciously known would happen, his gaze to lock on to an identical one of his own, barely two feet away.
“Fuck, Eli,” he managed to say, his voice breathless and thin from the energetic makeout. “Fuck, he did it to us.”
“Mmm?” Eli hummed distractedly into his neck. One of his deft hands was remaining on Xander’s ass, but the other was creeping up his spine, perhaps intending to hold Xander in place as Eli explored Xander’s favorite erogenous zone.
Xander’s eyes were still locked on the other Xander’s. Those dark eyes, half hidden by the same fast-growing jet-black hair that Xander himself had, were a minefield of emotions—curiosity, fear, amazement, lust… but most discernible of all of them was the same feeling firing through every inch of Xander: the suspicious, possessive challenge of someone who wants no one else to have a chance at the object of his desire. That Xander didn’t want him anywhere near the Eli that was currently mouthing his neck, any more than Xander wanted the other Xander near his own too-gorgeous makeout partner.
“Eli, look up,” Xander said to Eli, even as the other Xander whispered in his Eli’s ear, “Heads up. We’re not alone.”
Both Elis lifted their heads at the same time. When their eyes met, they both jumped, as shocked by what they saw as if they’d plugged a fork in an outlet. Instinctively, as if acting out some animalistic face-off, both Xanders moved with the jump, the two couples taking a step back from each other at the same time, arms still tight around each other. They were two units wary of each other, like unknown players on a battlefield, or two magnets still uncertain of their respective polarities.
“Whoa,” his Eli said. “What the fuck.”
“What the fuck,” the other Eli reiterated. They were staring at each other, and then at the opposite Xanders. Then each Eli looked at his own Xander. Xander looked into his Eli’s almost luminous blue eyes. He saw alarm there, and confusion—the kind of confusion that came from having unconsciously guessed at something without putting it all together, only to have a new parameter dropped into the middle of it all like a buzzing, live electrical cable. To Xander’s immense satisfaction Eli moved a many-fingered hand from Xander’s back directly onto his chest, right against his thumping heart, his open insulated windbreaker leaving only the soft, thin material of his skintight Prisoners of Tyrannos VII tee shirt to separate Eli’s touch from his heated skin. The other Eli did the same, though Xander only had eyes, and senses, for his own pulse-poundingly beautiful Eli.
Xander had played a lot of fantasy video games, and watched a lot of sci-fi. He knew his tropes. Now that the initial shock was wearing off the truth of what he’d seen wasn’t that big a leap. He had started to put the pierces together the way Eli must have, little changes adding up; but he’d also been thinking about this pretty hard going back the last few weeks. Plus he knew Will, had hung out with him, and had seen what drew his playful, glinting eye about Kevin’s body, and Xander’s too, and some of the other guys on the floor. Those were the things that had changed slowly changed over days and weeks that Will had dated Kevin.
And now he had a lot more data to work with, after tonight’s escapade at the bar, and the park across the street, and finally following the Wills home and meeting the incredibly hot Eli, who he just wanted to wrap himself around like a vast dragon tattoo in a way that was very unlike his nerdy, unsocial gamer self… even if it did feel so natural it was like coming home.
The backstory of this moment was feeling pretty clear to him. He just needed to walk through it with Eli, and make sure both that Xander understood it and that they were understanding it together.
“It’s Will,” Xander began. Eli nodded slightly, confirming that he had indeed gotten this far, even if he hadn’t consciously realized it. He didn’t know exactly what playful, erotic messing around Eli’s housemate might have done with him, though he could guess the throbbing pillars he’d felt rutting against his own augmented cock-tower through the thin fabric of their respective shirts was probably exhibit A—and there was something about a few extra fingers, he was pretty sure, too. But awareness of being subtly upgraded, here and there, week after week, must have started to started to accumulate for Eli the way it had for Xander, even if Xander had had the extra added clue of watching the much more impressive changes in Will’s actual boyfriend, Xander’s roommate, over the last several weeks. That man had very poor impulse control.
The other Xander spoke, ostensibly to his own Eli, though Xander’s Eli was of course close enough to hear as well. “There’s three of him now,” the other Xander said, just a split second before Xander had been planning to say the same thing. He looked over at his double sharply, and saw the same challenge there as before.
“Wh—?” both Elis started to say. But Xander, glancing back into his compelling eyes, saw he must have seen the three Wills coming home tonight. The way the other Xander had said it, though—”three of him”—seemed to hit home.
Instead Eli said slowly, “He… cloned… himself?”
“… And us?” added the other Eli, the two of them exchanging nervous glances again.
Xander nodded. “I… I think he can’t help making the guys around him… more,” he said, shrugging slightly.
“Hotter,” the other Xander said. “Sexier.”
“More of the stuff that turns him on,” Xander said. “He’s been dialing up the guys around him.”
“Guys he sees a lot and can’t resist… tinkering with. You… Kevin…” the other Xander put in. “Me…”
Eli looked into Xander’s eyes for confirmation of what the other him had said. Xander nodded, offering him a slightly embarrassed crooked grin. “He made you hotter?” Eli asked softly.
Xander wanted to reply with a confession, something along the lines of “I didn’t used to be able to suck myself”; only it sounded really cheesy when he sounded it out in his head, and anyway he wanted to share that kind of thing in private, when it it was just them. Him and Eli—his Eli. Instead he just nodded again. “I think—I think it’s gotten easy for him,” he said.
“Maybe hard for him not to,” the other Xander suggested.
“Yeah, maybe,” Xander conceded. “And I think… the ultimate expression of that is making twins,” Xander said.
“He likes making guys hotter,” the other Xander concluded, “and the logical extreme of that—of adding more of the stuff that turns him on—is a whole extra guy.”
“I bet he’s done it before,” the other Xander said, and Xander agreed, “Probably a bunch of times.” If he was right, the Wills probably had a conditioned way of doing it now, like a macro. That would explain Xander and Eli, who’d apparently been unintended targets. Collateral twinnage.
“Wow,” the other Eli said, and his Eli said, “Yeah, wow.” He blinked, reminding Xander of those long lashes that accentuated his beauty.
A moment passed with both Xanders watching their Elis closely. “Are you okay?” the Xanders both said quietly at the same time. They exchanged a harried glance before looking back into their respective Elis’ bright blue eyes. Xander was still stroking up and down Eli’s back, under the blazer, and he was already looking past this conversation to where the blazer might be taken off, and more of that delectable skin revealed.
“I think so,” his Eli said cautiously, looking steadily back into Xander’s and brushing back some hair to get a better view. “Yeah, I think so,” said the other Eli to his Xander. “Twins. Huh.” He kept his eyes on his Xander, and his Eli did the same, like they weren’t sure about looking at another version of themself. Maybe they weren’t used to being as hot as they were.
“Twinning guys,” his Eli said. “Twinning them… because it’s hot.”
“He must be kind of narcissistic, then, if he’s been making twins of himself,” the other Eli mused, but in a way that said he wasn’t quite sure that was the right interpretation.
Xander remembered the three Wills swarming around Kevin at the bar and then at the park across the street. The other Xander got there first, though. “No,” he said, just as Xander was about to. “I think he cloned himself again because it turned Kevin on.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “He loves the idea, whether it’s a rush for him or someone else.” He wondered if he’d twinned himself the first time for some other guy, some first crush before he’d ever come to Grant. Where was the guy now? Had Will twinned him? That was kind of hot, too.
“So what, he just cloned us, too? Without asking?” the other Eli said. He was shaking his head as he looked between the four of them, not understanding.
“Maybe… he didn’t mean to,” Xander’s Eli said uncertainly. “I mean, how would he know that you’re—that you both—are even here?” he corrected himself uncomfortably.
“He was probably aiming for his boyfriend,” Xander said, looking up at the ceiling, toward the second-floor apartment where the Wills and his roommate Kevin must have disappeared. “I bet that’s what they had planned for tonight. They probably don’t know anything else is going on in the world right now,” he added, a little enviously.
“And so… what, the twin bomb was bigger that they expected?” the other Xander said, sounding amused.
Xander shrugged. “There’s three of them now,” he said. “I dunno, maybe they don’t know their own strength anymore. They’re so used to twinning after doing it for so long, maybe it’s hard to control.”
There was another quiet, digestive moment, just the Xanders stroking their Elis’ backs, each Eli with his hand pressed firmly against his Xander’s chest.
“I have to admit, I can… see the appeal,” his Eli put in unexpectedly at length, chancing a glance at the other Xander and biting his lip adorably.
Xander huffed. “Hey,” he said, gently turning his perfect, stubble-dusted chin back toward him. Eli was giving him a rakish grin that he hadn’t thought the soft-spoken guitar-player capable of, and it just about melted his heart. He clasped his hand over where Eli’s was still pressed firmly against his chest. His heart was still racing, and he wondered if Eli could feel it. “Hey,” he repeated, softer this time, but serious. “Eyes on me, okay? Just me.” He slid his hand up and began sliding it through Eli’s dark, lush hair.
The other Xander said, “Likewise, Eli. Just you, just me.”
Eli’s wicked grin turned gentle, and he said, “Just you,” more or less at the same time as the other Eli.
A moment later they were kissing, not hard and passionate but sweet and soft, like they’d just sealed the connection they’d made only a little earlier that night.
Abruptly the other Eli broke free, and Xander’s Eli did too. “Wait, wait,” the other Eli said. “If you two have all the answers—how do we do this?”
“Yeah!” his Eli said. “What about classes? And registration…”
“IDs!” put in the other Eli. “And money, and…”
The Xanders exchanged another glance. “You know what? I’m making that Will’s problem.”
“That’s right,” the other Xander said. “He twinned us, he has to make it right. In fact,” he went on meaningfully, “I think there’s only one question we have to answer tonight.”
“What’s that?” both Elis said, their dark, sexy eyebrows rising slightly.
Xander bent and gave his Eli a brief kiss, and the other Xander, watching him, did the same. Then they both said, “How big is your bed?”
Xander’s Eli did the lip-biting thing again, and a glint appeared in his eye. “Actually…” he started, and the other picked up, “The third floor apartment has an extra room.” “I was going to sublet it out.” “It’s all ready to rent out, but I haven’t—”
“Wait, wait,” Xander interrupted them. “There’s two beds?” the other Xander broke in, just before Xander could ask the same.
“There’s two beds,” both Elis confirmed, each looking at their Xanders with undisguised lust.
Each Xander took a shuddering breath.
Being pretty sure of what was going on, especially after having screwed himself up earlier that day to follow Kevin and find out what was going on in the first place, had given him a lot of confidence. But now importance of the moment was hitting him. Here was this… this impossibly beautiful man, the very epitome of everything Xander could have imagined in a hot guy and then some… a guy whose sexual appeal seemed to seep into him, curling up his heart and his balls and saturating every brain cell and muscle fiber and every goddamned centimeter of his now seemingly permanent raging hard-on. Xander was holding him, and he was clinging hard to Xander, too, like they both found something meaningful in each other’s embrace. But—fuck, even if he was a little taller and buffer now thanks to Will, and bigger in the dick department too, he was still good old cute-gamer-nerd Xander. In the movies he was the best friend of someone who got laid by compellingly hot guys like Eli.
He took another deep breath to steady himself. “Eli,” he began hesitantly, and once again he was surprised and slightly perturbed to hear the same thing from his other self, who stood there wrapped in the same embrace a couple feet to his right. He shared an exasperated look with the other Xander, momentarily stymied. He’d been working himself up to asking politely, and not quite apologetically, if Eli would let him come up with him to his room… but he really couldn’t face doing it in stereo.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to. Both of the beautiful caramel men wrapped a many-fingered hand around his cute gamer-nerd’s neck and pulled him in for a deep, reassuring kiss, before grabbing his hand and pulling him, grinning wide, up the narrow stairs to the beds that awaited them.
Saturday dawned bright and clear, though the sun was well up in the vivid blue sky by the time the Kevins and Wills showed any sign of serious alertness. Kevin surfaced languidly from very strange and pleasant dreams to the welcome sensation of two handsome Wills methodically kissing him awake, their morning bristle rubbing enticingly against his lips and skin. He opened his eyes to drink in the sight, meeting a double helping of those mischievous green eyes, and his mighty cocks urgently tried to get even harder than they already were, throbbing and straining as they jumped all along the torso of the leftmost of his Wills, the curve of his dicks making it seem like they were both gravitating toward him in particular. He could feel the Wills’ thinner, straighter monster-cocks thrusting gently against him as well, and the three of them must have been at it a while as all the skin between them was slick with copious slatherings of precum.
Feeling a need to balance things out, Kevin moved to properly kiss the Will on his right, while the one on his left used the interlude to lick along Kevin’s more sparsely stubbled jaw with a very long tongue. Their impressive tongues were at the top of the list of the hottest, most dick-pumping things about making out with the Wills, though Kevin was pretty sure his own tongue had been getting longer lately too. That was fine with him—he wanted the Wills to love kissing him just as much as he loved kissing them.
His already redlined arousal was amplified by the awareness of two more of him to his right, each similarly engaged with two long-limbed, lanky Wills of their own. Their surging, deep-burning want flooded through him as his did through them. His senses opened a little further to the other hims, allowing him to feel all of their kisses, all of their rigid, aching cocks hungry for hands, mouth, and ass, for spectacular, heart-stopping release shared with the men he loved. He lifted his arms and wrapped them tight around his two Wills, and the Kevin in the middle moaned into his three-way kiss and did the same, exactly at the same moment as the Kevin on the end. There was more room now somehow and the Kevins were no longer crowded together, overlapping shoulders, limb, and muscle, but Kevin no longer had to touch his other selves to feel what they were feeling and, maybe more importantly, to share the bliss of clasping tall, hard-bodied, randy and raging-hard Wills, arms around each other’s sexy, stretched-out backs, firm and strong against his own magnificently improved and Will-hungry physique.
He could cum like this, he realized as they kissed ferociously, his cocks and the Wills’ all thrusting and stabbing amongst each other in the tight, slippery space he’d created between their closely held torsos, their endless legs all tangled below. He wanted everything they’d done last night again and more: two Wills sucking him off at once, even the horny magicians barely able to take the majestic size of their creation; one Will fucking him, with one cock at first and then with both massive, ruler-straight (and, in another sense, ruler-defying) cocks while five Wills body worshipped him, kissing him, caressing him, and attacking both nips at once while the other two Kevins drank in the sensations through their shared connection and gave back with a make-out session of their own that led to a devoted 69 that was almost unbearably wonderful on top of the mind-blowing sensation of the best and most beautiful, core-shaking fuck and body-worship of his life (had that been him? He wasn’t even sure which Kevin he’d been by the end); and finally, the inevitable try at fucking two Wills at once. With chest-high dicks he could do it, watching avidly as the Wills stared up at him with dark, lust-drunk emerald eyes, their mouths wrapping around their own dicks turn by turn as he slid his too-large meat into their tight, ready bodies. He couldn’t go down to the root on two separate asses at once—he kept his slick hands around the bases of his cocks, not that he needed more stimulation even than the sight of the Wills sharing the heady pleasure of making love with him together, and the tidal pleasure coursing through him from the other Kevins feeling the same world-encompassing pleasure; though he smirked at the thought that he still could push more thick, hungry, adamantine cock into them than any other man could do with one dick buried to the balls. Except—there wouldn’t be any other men. Not because the Kevins had more to offer than any other guy, but because he knew, he knew, that the Wills wanted no one but him. Them. The Kevins were theirs, and there was no denying they belonged to the Wills, too.
So—yes, he wanted all of that again, and as often as possible and forever. But this… He used his strength to hold the three of them in a tight cocoon, muscle sliding against muscle, cocks against cocks, lubricated friction against washboard abs, hard chests, and harder hard-ons. They kissed with a desperation born of fathomless desire, the same sensations rolling through him thrice over as they exposed their blinding pleasure fully to each other. He wanted this now, just this.
He was kissing them both again, but one of them slipped free to mouth along his neck, moving up to whisper in his ear, “Hold me like this. Hold us… keep holding us… don’t stop…”
Faintly, through the sparking of his rapidly building climax, he heard similar murmurs through the ears of his other selves. “Keep holding onto us…” “Don’t ever let us go…” “We want you so bad…”
Kevin let the want through him as he switch his passionate kisses to the one who was murmuring to him, and as the other one took it up they were thrusting harder into the tight, slick space between them, Kevin’s extra-sensitive, needy cocks rubbing against thick pecs and long torso and his Wills’ bone-hard, slippery erections as the faint brush of cool air absorbed the heat radiating from them. He thought of how big he was, his dicks, his body, how the Wills were so keen for him that they couldn’t keep their magic off his bod, like they had to keep touching him not just with their actual hands but with what they could do. He was already close, his heavy balls seeming already to tighten in anticipation of a truly geyser-like eruption, as the Will whispering in his ear moved back up to rejoin his fellow “twin” in a new frenzied, sex-mad, climax-inducing kiss. The feeling of pleasure from his own kiss and the overflowing raw stimulus from the other Kevins was hurtling him unstoppably toward eruption when he realized he was kissing the two Wills at once with his hot, flat, over-long tongue in both their mouths, overlapping and writhing with the two Wills’ extra-long, aggressively eager tongues, their three mouths right on top of each other, to form a mutual kiss so beyond awesome that he instantly shooting massive amounts of jizz, the ecstatic bolts of raw pleasure hurtling through him like lightning as he shot over and over again, gasping into the Wills’ mouths as his seed spattered hard against his cheeks and ear, the pillows, and the wall behind them with loud smacks barely audible over the pounding of his heart. The other Kevins came together with him, whether from a chain reaction or a shared build-up of unrelenting stimulation like he’d been having, and the shared explosion was so huge the world seemed to white out a little, reality phasing for a moment into simple ecstasy.
He didn’t lose awareness of the Wills—he didn’t think he could—and they were cumming too, hard. And since they weren’t curved like his the repeated, generous ejaculations were pelting all their of their faces with hot, tasty spunk. Kevin and both Wills were gasping with giddy laughter. The Wills started licking cum from his cheeks, forehead, and hose, and Kevin, grinning, followed suit, seeing how well he could control licking jizz from two bristly Will-cheeks at once. It was easier doing either side of one face than two different Wills at once, he decided, enjoying the sound of the Wills laughing at his antics, but he resolved to practice and see just what he could do with them when he next got the chance.
He met their eyes, feeling deeply the love for them he had admitted to himself during their lovemaking. He wanted to say something to them, something along the lines of, “You changed me, again!” But he didn’t need to. He saw in their dancing, still lust-dark eyes the answer they would give, a playful pretense of innocence (“Who, us?”); and he knew it didn’t matter. He was their, however they wanted, and the alternative of not having them was already simply impossible to imagine.
Instead he said, “I hope your shower fits three.” He spoke carefully, listening for his own articulation. It was strange talking with two tongues, and would take some practice, but the feeling of them sliding against each other was somehow almost as erotic, in its own subtle way, as the intense stimulation of his newly doubled cocks brushing together every time he moved.
His two Wills were grinning, and he guessed the others were as well. He glanced over, taking in all the Kevins and Wills sharing a bed—which, yes, did seem bigger than before, not just the mattress but the sheets and even the pillows. Had the Wills woken up to pee and had a go at growing it in the night? Maybe. He could just as easily believe they did it in their sleep, though the ramifications of that… It didn’t matter. God, he loved the sight of them. They’d been hot by streetlight and moonlight, and now, in the gentle morning light of a brisk March morning, they looked like primeval man-gods. They were a spectacle of beauty, and it was a shame to hide all that away.
“We should go out today,” the Kevin in the middle said, mirroring his thought.
“Totally. Like… there’s that huge street fair over in Shelbyville today,” the third Kevin said.
Kevin nodded, turned to look up at the two Wills he was still holding close and tight against him—exactly where they belonged. He let his fingers brush along their backs, feeling the knots of their vertebrae, liking simply that he could touch them as much as he wanted. “So… what do you think?” he asked.
Both Wills wiggled their eyebrows, making Kevin’s still-hard and very sensitive cocks twitch in reaction. Fuck, they were sexy. “You sure you guys are ready for all that?” one of them asked, though he wasn’t sure which one—he was drowning a little in their eyes and their boyish sex appeal.
Kevin grinned, but it was the Kevin next to him that said, “We just want to show off our six amazingly hot boyfriends!”
The Wills grinned back. “Back atcha,” they said, and all six of them dove in for hot, three-way kisses that lasted for quite a long time as the sun drifted up the deep blue sky.
When Craig slowly woke to find dark, knowing eyes just like his inches away in the soft morning light, finding his own and fixing on them like they were snapping in place, like those eyes would be locked with his forever, his stomach fluttered madly; but he didn’t flinch, or jump out of the bed, or even move at all. He lay there, quiet and still, and watched. He took in the face he knew, handsome enough but attractive most of all through what he knew about it. Sweet lips. A talented and stimulus-hungry mouth. Soft stubble that lined his defined jaw, dark against mahogany skin. He knew how more than nice it would feel against his own. And above were eyes that shared everything with him, including the impulse to wait.
He savored the slow, steady cadence of warm, soft gusts of breath on his own lips, appreciating how they measured the start of their time together even as they caressed him in what seemed increasingly like infinitely subtle foreplay. He was conscious of everything about his body, and the body opposite him. His heart quickened, and his skin heated from head to toes. Blood rushed in his ears. Everything about him was becoming aroused and inflamed, so that his roiling balls and his rapidly swelling cock, twitching and growing along his belly, were merely symptoms of the fever that was building within him; but Craig kept his breaths long and even, in and out, in and out, reciprocating the gentle stimulation he was enjoying so much. They eyed each other, sharing this moment of watching arousal and burning anticipation. Their cocks brushed shyly against each other as they grew to massive hardness between them, making them both draw in a sharp breath. Then their lips curved, just out of sync, and the light in those deep, dark eyes opposite him flared from smoldering embers to roaring flames.
Craig had known something like this might happen.
He’d been living in this apartment, a narrow but sunny second-floor walkup in a quiet, converted three-story townhouse close to campus, for more than a year and a half now, since he’d first fled the noise and crudity of the dorms at the start of his sophomore year. He’d never looked back. No roommates, no loud music, no stink of beer or vomit (usually vomited beer)—bliss. No demeaning pretty-boy boyfriend insisting all their time together be about him, either. He could study, and not just in the sense of getting his homework and readings done but actually studying, making sense of bio and organic chem and the rest of his course-load and steadily bringing up his grades from B’s into A’s. For the first time he had real confidence his premed would turn into a med, and he poured his time into studying, prepping, and committing himself to his education and future career ahead of all other things.
Then came this semester, and the weird stuff started happening. At first he hadn’t really connected the dots. He’d noticed, brushing his teeth one morning early in the semester, that his reflection was more defined than he remembered—he actually looked fit, not like a bodybuilder but like someone who kept himself toned and in shape. But he’d shrugged and spat, figuring he was finally reaping the rewards of his junior-year food maturity commitment, laying off all the pizza and junk food he’d drowned in when he’d started studying so single-mindedly last year. Now he was eating like an adult, and it looked like it was starting to pay off. The next week, brushing his teeth again, he noticed his abs were starting to emerge, which was nice. A little odd, as he hadn’t done any sit-ups since P.E. class in high school, but nice. Now in the mornings he found his eyes drifting to them as he did his morning routine, so he noticed a few days later when his abs had shifted, as if through some weird form of muscular mitosis, from a softly defined six-pack to a stone-carved eight-pack. He met his eyes in the mirror, and noticed that the crown of his head was just off the mirror’s top edge. He snorted, staring at his long, limber, and apparently lengthened torso. Somehow his abs had been ratcheted up like a car jack, and Craig actually took some comfort in knowing how biologically impossible it was: at least that meant there was no point in trying to figure it out.
As it turned out his height increase wasn’t all in the abs, a fact revealed when he pulled on his favorite baggy jeans that morning and discovered they were now “floods” that bared his ankles. He grimaced. He hadn’t had to deal with this since middle school, when he’d shot up from 5’9” to 6’1” so fast his mom couldn’t keep him in jeans and the jerks at school were constantly snickering at his exposed white socks. Now he was nearly old enough to drink, and he was getting—what, a second puberty? At least that would explain why his dick and balls had been feeling so heavy. He pulled on a polo shirt and sneakers without socks and stood, looking down at himself and shaking his head. An inch or so of brown skin between the cuffs on his jeans and his sneaks, and a clear separation between the bottom of his polo and his waistband where before there had definitely been an overlap. The polo was just a bit snug across the shoulders and chest as well. He sighed, making a mental note to go clothes shopping. If he was going to have an impossible growth spurt, he thought wryly, couldn’t it at least have come with impossible wardrobe adjustment as well? Or at least a gift card for Target?
As soon as he thought about it, though, Craig knew that even if he could take the body weirdness more or less in stride, clothing changes to match would definitely freak him out. That would mean deliberate intent, right? His shirts and pants actually keeping pace with his height bump would only happen if there were an unknown, conscious will behind the changes. Bodies changed all the time. That he could deal with.
He was a little less sanguine when it happened again, a little less than a week later. He’d stayed up late making copious notes on his organic chem text and lectures, trying to get it under his skin. He stumbled in, picked up his toothbrush and toothpaste, looked up into the mirror, and dropped them both clattering into the sink. His eight-pack had ratcheted up again into a ten-pack. And it wasn’t as though five rows were crammed into the same space where there had been four before, like extra people shoving into a back seat. No, this was like that car had suddenly stretched backwards and added an extra back seat behind the original. His torso was longer by the measure of one row of hard, chiseled mahogany abs. His legs were probably longer, too, if his pajama bottoms were any guide. Straightening, Craig checked the mirror and saw he could no longer see his eyes in the reflection. The top of his head was cut off like a badly framed tourist photograph, leaving half a nose, half an ear with the little steel and black stud earring he wore on his right side. Faintly stubbled jawline, chin, and mouth. Mouth and lips. Those lips of his drew his gaze, and a rush of warmth flooded through him as he fixed on them. He wondered what it would be like to kiss them. It wasn’t the first time, not that he’d have admitted it. His lips were sexy, at least to him, and his mouth craved in real life the stimulation it received only in dreams and wishes.
His dick started to twitch and swell. Heady arousal welled up within him at the idea of being tall—being taller—and, even hotter, of there being an equally tall, slightly freaky him right there in the bathroom mirror. He grabbed the elastic waist of his pajama bottoms and pushed them off his hips, and they fell down his legs, pooling around his big feet. Craig stared and, feeling hot, he succumbed to temptation. He hardly ever touched himself—he’d coached himself into thinking it was a distraction, so successfully that by last semester he’d barely felt the need to take care of himself more than a couple of times or so a month, on lazy Sunday mornings or late at night in the shower, cleaning the pipes after a long week. Now, though, his fingers were drawn to this preposterous, unbelievable, eye-catchingly sexy stone-hard abs, and he raised his hand as if hypnotized, watching it in the mirror as he stroked along the elegant rounds, counting each row of firm, tight muscle. One… two… three, four… five…
His fat, hard dick smacked against the underside of the sink. Craig blinked and looked down. His dick looked… so big. He’d always had a nice one, long and fat with a swell in the middle in a way that filled his palm nicely and enough foreskin that the dark-red head only pushed out unless he was really hard. But evidently that car jack had come with a bicycle pump, because his shuddering, aching tool had gone from hero to superhero. Had it been growing this whole time, and he was only just now noticing? Or had it gotten an overnight upgrade like his abs? Maybe both. It didn’t matter. All this was impossible. So was a second puberty, at least one like this, but his brain was done thinking. Taking his mighty tool in his left hand, then adding the right on top of it, he shifted it around the sink and, watching himself in the mirror, slowly started to jack.
He could see it now in the mirror, but as amazing as his too-big dick was to look at, even enveloped in both his long-fingered hands, what caught his eyes were the slight bunching and rippling of his new, extra-long ten-pack as he ministered to his fat, hard, leaking tool. A drop of sweat appeared, and he watched it with fascination as it slid over the shallow crest of one ab muscle, down into the cut and then over the low ridge again, then back down until it suddenly slipped into the central valley and rolled slowly down toward his belly button and his thin, dark treasure trail. He realized his tongue had pushed out of his mouth, wanting to lick that drop of sweat away, and then keep licking right up those sweet, beautiful abs. A shiver of lightning shot up his spine, and he stroked himself harder, faster, tightening his grip with both hands as he pushed his fat, blunt cock into two eager fists. He watched it for a second, feeling his orgasm building rapidly toward release, but he remembered his tongue was still out, and he wanted to see it.
He lifted his eyes up, up, up his jacked-up torso, up the delicious sculpted abs, up the firm, square, thickening-by-the-day pecs with their dark nipples and scuff of chest hair, to his throat where his adam’s apple jumped with excitement, and then… his mouth. Fuck. The fact that the reflection stopped there made his mouth and lips stand out even more, like it was okay to ogle them—impossible not to ogle them, to imagine kissing them, to want to plunder that mouth with his own. But what really arrested him was the tongue lolling out of his kiss-hungry mouth. It was long. Too long. Long enough to be brushing his chin. He moved it, watching it shift around in the reflection, and suddenly his huge balls tightened up and a swell of white-hot release erupted from the base of his spine. He jerked himself feverishly, and then all at once he exploded. Thick ropes of hot cum rocketed from his massive wang again and again as he came hard, so hard, his hot, tight grip pushing him to a fourth jet of cum and a fifth. And the whole time he kept his eyes on that tongue—the tongue he wanted to taste more than anything.
After he’d gotten himself mostly under control, and had cleaned up all the crazy amount of cum from the sink, faucets, and even the mirror, he finally managed to get dressed so he could go to his mid-morning class. It was a total farce. He went for his loose red sweats instead of pants, figuring sweats that stopped at mid-calf were almost like something someone would wear, and he knew the brick red looked good against his exposed reddish-brown skin; but the russet-brown “BaCoN” tee-shirt he pulled on (like all his “funny” tees a gift from his brother, who lived for stupid jokes and puns) now exposed nearly a whole row of abs, and his shoes were almost too small to wear.
Clothes. Today. And… okay, he’d better get stuff that was bigger than what he needed. Did Amazon have a ten-pack abs store? The thought made his half-hard dick jump in his straining boxer-briefs. He rolled his long, stretchy tongue around in his mouth, yearning for a kiss he couldn’t have. Shaking his head as if to dislodge all of this he yanked on his formerly knee-length coat, picked up his bookbag, and headed out.
He was distracted with a hundred swirling thoughts as he trotted down the porch stairs, bookbag over one shoulder, and turned on the sidewalk heading for campus—so much so he almost ran into one his neighbors. It was the long-haired, caramel-skinned guitar-player with the glasses who had an apartment in the white townhouse abutting his, heading home with a couple of bags of early morning necessities from the all-hours bodega on the corner. Craig had noticed him before and had thought he was pretty good-looking, but now, as he grabbed the man’s shoulders in order to keep from bowling him over, he saw that his neighbor was not just handsome—he was incredibly attractive, almost literally, like he was drawing Craig in to him with some sort of carnal gravity, a blazing sun of mesmeric beaty barely hidden deep inside him. Craig felt his grip tightening slightly on the firm shoulders under that green blazer he habitually wore, as if something inside him wanted to hold onto him. The thought was so odd that he consciously made himself loosen his hands, though he kept them resting on the vision’s shoulders as he stared into potent blue eyes. Then his gaze fell to dark red lips, and Craig’s pulse started to race.
He had to force a few breaths before he could speak. “Sorry,” he said at last. “Should have looked where I was going.” He was still staring at those lips. His dick was trying to get hard, and Craig imagined his stretchy boxer-briefs and thin sweats wouldn’t present much resistance.
“It’s all right,” the attractive man said, flashing Craig a smile that squeezed his heart. “I was deep in my own head, too.” He was looking up at Craig, and something in his expression forced Craig to wrench his eyes away from the neighbor’s smiling mouth and meet his deep blue eyes again. The other man seemed to be looking at him with a kind of recognition. “You live next door, right?”
“Yeah.” Those lips were moving, and that drew Craig’s eyes back down to them. “Right next door.”
“You want to kiss me, don’t you?” the lips said, gently, his voice momentarily seeming to come from someplace inside Craig’s desires and wants. He stared at those lips. For a quick flash, Craig saw his own lips, the ones he’d fixated on the reflection that morning, but he blinked, and the neighbor’s full red lips returned.
“Doesn’t everyone?” Craig asked them half-dreamily, speaking without really meaning to.
The lips widened in a smile again, and Craig’s dick fought harder to inflate to full hardness. “Seems like it lately,” the neighbor said, a little ruefully.
With a serious effort Craig squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them he met the neighbor’s gaze. “I want to,” he told the man honestly, “but it would be tough to stop. And I’ve got lab,” he added with a crooked grin, as if only his premed commitments could possibly prevent him from macking on this relative stranger right here in the street from now until nightfall.
The neighbor nodded, his eyes drifting to Craig’s own lips. “It would be tough for me to stop too, I think,” he said distractedly. He cleared his throat and took a step back, and Craig let his hands fall from the man’s shoulders. But then he shifted both bags to his left hand and offered his right hand to shake. “Eli Shaffer,” he said.
Craig took the hand. “Craig Pierce,” he replied. “I’m…” His voice fell away, though, as he turned the hand he was shaking over to get a better look at it. His lips parted as he blinked at it. Eli’s warm, solid hand looked and felt wider than usual, and there was a good reason for that—it had five of his long, dexterous fingers, plus the thumb.
“Yeah,” Eli said, sounding sheepish and resigned at the same time, “I’ve been popping out a few extra of those lately.”
Craig’s eyes jerked up. Popping out a few extra of those. The world around them seem to shift in Craig’s mind. Holding Eli’s gaze along with his hand, Craig mutely lifted up his inadequately long tee with his free hand, revealing the extended torso he’d gotten by way of his jacked-up abdominals.
Eli looked them over and whistled softly, then looked up at Craig. “I’m guessing…?”
“Yeah.” New, like the fingers. Popped out. Craig realized he was still gripping Eli’s warm, strong, extra-fingered hand and let it go reluctantly. If this was happening to someone else, maybe it was something that needed to be figured out after all. He could pretend he was imagining all this, but another person experiencing it too—that made it more real. And this other person seemed like he was already… used to it? Reconciled? He met Eli’s gaze. “What is all this?” he asked. “Do you know?”
Eli shook his head. Even baffled he was too beautiful. Craig pictured his own hand sliding around that perfect neck and drawing him close to let Eli share Craig’s enhanced tongue, and maybe Craig could find out if Eli was similarly equipped. His hand actually started to move, but he shouldered the impulse aside. “It started in late January, I think,” Eli said. “At least, that’s when I started noticing things.”
Craig nodded. “Me too.” Craig had thought he was dealing with something supernatural or inexplicable that was focused on him, or maybe un-focused on him, considering how almost accidental and… arhythmic it had all felt. But now—what was this? Some sort of… transformative, freakifying gas leak? He huffed at the thought—it sounded like something a supervillain would do to distract the populace as he secretly executed his real, insidiously devious plan. There weren’t many other answers, though.
“I keep meaning to ask the twins who moved in downstairs from me if they’ve noticed anything happening with them,” Eli said as he pulled his phone out of a back pocket. “I mean, they’re really hot, but I haven’t noticed anything change about them. Here,” Eli said with abrupt decision, “let’s trade numbers, and I can text you if I find out anything.”
Eli’s curiosity seemed to have been prodded by an encounter with someone else experiencing something similar, like Craig. Craig’s mind, admittedly, was still stuck on the sexy hot twins living downstairs from Eli as he took the phone and entered his contact info. Craig had seen the dark-haired identical hunks in question, usually one at a time but occasionally together, and Eli was right—they were tall, rangy, cocksure, and made of sex in a way completely different from the beautiful, calm, introverted Eli. Had the twins changed, too? Eli hadn’t seen anything, but maybe the changes weren’t where you could see them. He thought of his still-straining, suddenly huge dick, and had to force his attention back to the moment. He saved his info and handed the phone back, and Eli sent him a quick text so Craig would have his number. At first Craig watched his extra-fingered hands as he worked—he wanted to see him play guitar like this, and it occurred to him to wonder if he was having to retrain himself after “popping out” the extra fingers—but it wasn’t long before his eyes drifted up to those red lips again.
Eli put his phone away, and when he looked up the two of them were unaccountably closer than before. Then suddenly Eli was pulling him into a long, sweet kiss. Craig gratefully let his tongue unfurl in Eli’s warm, willing mouth, eliciting a soft moan from the other man that riffled around in Craig’s heated insides as Eli’s own none-too-small counterpart stroked all along the side of Craig’s in a maneuver Craig wanted to practice endlessly. Before either of them could deepen the kiss, however, they both pulled back at the same time, Eli evidently as leery as Craig of the abyss of awesome but meaningless pleasure they might fall into. Eli was beaming, though, and to Craig the very sight of it was almost literally intoxicating. “That was nice,” Eli said simply, still grinning.
“Yeah,” Craig said roughly. He quirked his lips into a half-smile. “So, that’s out of the way, now we can do the friend thing.” The truth was, the kiss was amazing and his body was still reacting to it, but after that morning he was still feeling the edge of that momentary obsession—the one that was for the kiss Eli had received, rather than the one he’d given.
“I’d like that,” Eli said sincerely. Then he patted Craig’s tight abs through his too-short tee-shirt. “Get to lab, Ten-Pack.” He headed up the walkway to his own porch with his groceries, and Craig turned to watch him go, mostly because he wanted to catch sight of Eli’s ass, just to see if it was as eerily compelling as the rest of him. Of course it was, high and round and as firm-looking as two honeydews in his thick but clingy sand-colored chinos, and Craig’s hands twitched with an automatic desire to cup and grope the tight, perfect orbs, and maybe probe what lay between them with fingers, and cock, and maybe an extra-long tongue.
Adjusting the strap on his bookbag, Craig turned and headed down the sidewalk toward campus. He thought of the kiss with Eli, and the kiss with the mouth in the mirror that he’d been masochistically building up a hunger for. So much was changing, and every bit of it was feeding a libido Craig had worked so had to suppress. Suddenly it occurred to him to wonder what his own ass looked like these days, what with all the low-key but cumulatively significant improvements to his overall physique outside of the business with his abs. Was his own ass something he’d be turned on by these days?
Craig’s majorly chubbed dick, wadded up as it was in his shorts, shivered and flexed at the thought, and a new flush of exactly the wrong kind of chemistry flooded through him. Grunting in annoyance, Craig forced his trouble-making dick into the most inconspicuous configuration he could manage and tromped resolutely toward where he was supposed to be.
For almost two weeks not much happened apart from ongoing and almost unnoticeable bumps to the firmness and definition of his muscles and the size of his now-prodigious cock, as if the supernatural transformative “gas leak” or whatever it was had a constant, low-lying preoccupation with the beauty of the male form and the possibilities for its constant, minute improvement. Craig now jerked himself off every morning in front of the mirror, watching everything: his massive tool as he stroked it in his hands; his slowly lengthening, subtly thickening arms; his shifting, stone-carved ten-pack abs; and the mouth and tongue-licked lips he wanted more than anything.
He spent the rest of the day keeping his focus on his schoolwork as much as he could, trying hard to compartmentalize his soaring libido into those moments alone with himself in the bathroom at the start of the day, and he was having some success, though one day he caught himself in the mirrored wall in the campus center lobby—all tall and buff, with loose pants and boots that fit now, but an old tee-shirt under his open coat that revealed a tantalizing couple inches of midriff (because he just could not help himself when he was dressing most mornings, still flush fron jerking off)—and he all but ran into a men’s room stall and jerked himself as quietly as he could. It was then that he realized, worried about the mess even as he stroked, that between the massive size of his dong and the flexibility of his extra-long torso it was a snap for him to bend over and take the head and top few inches of shaft into his eager, stimulation-loving mouth. He came almost the instant he started wrapping his way-long tongue around his blunt, salty cockhead, and the ensuing orgasm was so intense and so body-shakingly awesome that he sat there panting, still hard and ready, for several long minutes before he did it again. And again. That night, when he got home, he did it in front of the mirror, and from then on he had two sessions of self-appreciation every day to try to keep separate from actual college and his mounting coursework.
Then, a few days into March, he woke up knowing something was different, and rushing naked and already mostly hard into the bathroom he instantly saw that his uncanny torso had once again been cranked up even taller by the addition another beautiful, tight, tantalizingly lickable row of abs. He stared at his mirror-filling twelve-pack in heart-pounding awe, running fingers up and down them to match touch to vision even his dick inflated to massive, rigid hardness over the sink. With a pang he realized that his mouth was gone from the reflection—with the extra abs and the increase in the length of his legs that seemed to always come with them, Craig knew he had to be a good four inches taller than when he’d gone to bed. He missed the sight of his mouth, lips, and tongue almost achingly. But he could still feel them, and with his newly jacked-up torso against his similarly expanded dick he needed to see if he could still merge the sensations of cock and mouth in one soul-twisting combination.
As he started to reach for his flexing, leaking aircraft carrier of a dick, though, Craig noticed something in the mirror and froze. Slowly he brought his right hand back to his abs, and, one by one, he pressed first his thumb and then his fingers in turn against each tight, sculpted row of abs. He gasped slightly when they matched. Six, and six. He had five fingers and thumb. Like Eli, he thought, though for all he knew Eli had more than that now.
Shivering with arousal, Craig wrapped his hands deliberately around his fat, sized-up dick, and the sheer knowledge that the strong hands he was curling around his aching tool had been leveled up as well caused his dick to lurch in his grip, a huge spurt of pre spewing from the tip. No—it wasa two spurts. What the—?
Heart thundering in his chest, Craig grasped his massive hard-on in both hands and raised it to the vertical, and he stared down at it in renewed wonder as he took in the impossible sight of two desperate, pre-weeping, blood-red cockheads pushing free of the foreskin instead of one. Oh, you beauties, he thought.
No time at all passed between the sight of his twin cockblunts staring up at him and them being deep in his hot, dick-loving mouth, and as with the session in the campus center men’s room the week before Craig knew it would be mere seconds before the feel of his even longer tongue around his so-sensitive cockheads and extra-wide upper shaft made him blow a colossal load, and sure enough he’d barely begun pleasuring his newly configured cockheads before he was shooting hard, like a double-headed firehouse, right at the back of his throat. He had to pull off to avoid choking, earning himself a facefull of hot spooge as he shot again and again, and then he dove hungrily back onto the cock and took the last few gouts of cum and swallowed them with body-wracking joy. Then, again as at the campus center, he did it all over again not once but twice, only managing to get himself to three-quarters hard and sated in every fiber and bone with wondrous pleasure that both slaked his desire and stoked even more before he reluctantly turned away from the mirror for a quick shower before his morning biochem lecture.
In the bedroom, he pulled on sweat socks over his big (bigger?) feet—shit, there were six toes, too. His dick reacted almost instantly, but he was already risking being late for class, and no way could he live with blowing off lecture just so he could sit in his apartment and suck himself off all morning. Extra toes, extra fingers, extra goddamn cockheads—all that would have to wait. He tugged black boxer-briefs a size larger than he was used to over his enlarged junk, wrapping his reluctantly bendy half-hardon around his hip, then started to reach for his usual jeans—the ones he’d cast over the chair in his rush to strip and get to the bathroom mirror the night before. He stopped in mid-step toward the chair as, with a flip of his stomach, he realized that he’d need to pull out the just-in-case jeans he’d bought online, the ones with the 40-inch inseams instead of the 38s he’d been wearing. He pulled open the lowest dresser drawer and lifted them out with shaking hands, shaking them out to their full length. “This is…” he muttered to himself, but didn’t finish the sentence. Nuts? Awesome? Awesomely nuts? His heavy, tomato-sized balls seemed to squeeze at the word “nuts”, and yeah, this was all about hormones, and spunk, and the reaction of a man appreciating the make form in all its glory—and possibilities.
He pulled on the pants, his definitely bigger feet giving him a little trouble even with these loose-fit tall-guy jeans. He zipped up and buttoned the waistband with a bit of difficulty, not because his super-trim waist was any bigger but because his fat, half-inflated cock took up serious volume around his lower waist. Zipped up it made a very obvious bulge, like he was hiding a short boa constructor against his hip, though he’d bought really dark jeans to help mitigate that kind of problem.
Now he was in jeans and shirtless, and he wanted to start counting his abs again. Thank heavens he hadn’t had a full-length mirror in here, and had resisted the urge to buy one—he’d never leave the room. Quickly he shut the bottom dresser drawer and opened the one up from it with all his shirts. He grabbed the one on top, another joke shirt from his bro that read “Forget Lab Safety—I Want Superpowers”, and hauled it on. He looked down at himself, his breath getting rough. Two rows of exposed abs under the hem of the charcoal-gray shirt. He kept meaning to get new shirts, except the truth was he only told himself he meant to, because—this. This what what he wanted to see. This was hot as fuck.
His dick jumped again. No! He told himself. School. Go. Now. Ripping his gaze away from his bared lower midriff he finished getting ready, yanking on boots, snatching up keys, wallet and phone, and pulling on his coat and bookbag. He ducked under the doorway—something he’d been having to do all the time lately—and headed out.
Thumping hurriedly down the internal stairs he pulled out his phone and texted Eli, trying to ignore his augmented finger count as he typed. “You’ll have to find a new nickname for me,” he texted. He and Eli had had lunch a couple times once they’d realized their Thursday 11 a.m. classes were in the same building, and Eli always left with the same nickname and pat on the abs as on that first day. So far there had been no more kissing, but that didn’t mean Craig hadn’t thought about it.
“No longer a Ten-Pack?” came Eli’s reply.
“Got an upgrade last night,” Craig texted back.
Eli sent him a goggle-eyed emoji. Then he added, “I got a few last night too.”
Craig was on the porch now. He stopped and stared at the words, his heart quickening at Eli getting even more attractive. He swallowed and typed, “More fingers, right?”
“Yeah. And something with my hair. It’s more lush now. Or something. Couple other things. More private things.”
Wow. Craig’s dick fought against his jeans, but it wasn’t going anywhere. “I got the fingers too,” he typed. “And toes.”
“Fuck,” Eli typed after a moment. He sent the wide-eyed emoji again, then sent another. Then he sent, “I want to see.”
“Likewise,” Craig texted back. He smiled and added, “But if I see you right now I won’t get anything but kissing done all day. You’re too hot, man.” He sent a grin emoji to indicate he was teasing, though he was in fact half-serious.
Eli sent a blush emoji. “Thanks.”
Craig checked the time and groaned. “Late for class,” he sent. “Text later?’
Craig tucked the phone away just as a cool breeze ruffled his shirt and slipped up his abs thanks to his open coat. He headed down the steps half unsure who he even was, this guy with the skyrocketing libido and augmented everything, but he knew one thing—he was looking forward to warmer weather, and the prospect of audaciously showing off his extra abs everywhere he went.
Craig had dreamed all night about the self-kisses he’d never lost his obsession with. A buddy of his from high school lived in the dorms but usually crashed at his place when he went out drinking since it was closer, and sure enough he’d shown up after celebrating St. Patrick’s Day like a true devotee. As he’d settled into the couch, downing the water and aspirin Craig had given him with all the indulgent patience of a drunk guy who insists he never gets hangovers, his buddy had been telling him how he’d been topping the night off at Daly’s with his bros and how he’d spotted this amazingly hot and colossally hung guy he knew there whose super-hot tall-’n-lanky boyfriend turned out to be “identical triplets, dude!” His buddy had drifted off shortly after that, mumbling happily and semi-coherently about having had to blow a load in a urinal from how hot the whole hunk-and-trips tableau had been, and Craig had gone back to his room, pulled off all his clothes, and gotten into bed unable not to think about that story and how excited he was by it.
Identical boyfriends. His dick was super-hard in seconds, and for once he blew himself in bed rather than at the bathroom mirror, not wanting to be awkwardly interrupted in case his buddy needed another epic whiz. The whole time, though, he was stuck not on having identical boyfriends but on the idea of being his own identical boyfriend.
After cumming like a geyser in his mouth—he’d mastered swallowing his mighty climaxes, which in itself turned him on immensely—he fell asleep dreaming about the possibilities. He found himself wandering and shifting through scenario after scenario of him tightly embracing himself on a seashore… kissing himself with mounting passion in a cobbled public square… lustily fellating himself in the heart of a dark, fragrant forest. Driving his bone deep into his own ass, face to face, in a pale void full of faint visual echoes of themselves. Sleeping cuddled with himself on a sunny, bird-chirpy morning. Walking through a campus crowded with every student and professor ever, holding hands with himself and stealing the occasional kiss for literally all to see. Loving himself… It would be the hottest possible reality shift out of any of the crazy-hot and totally impossible things that had happened to him so far and that might still happen to him in the future, for as long as this freakiness lasted.
And that night it seemed that the mystical, maleness-loving, interdimensional “gas leak”, or whatever it was that was affecting him and his neighbors in the white townhouse next door, finally agreed with him. Because when he finally woke up in the early morning light of a cool, bright Saturday it was to the sight of his eyes… his face… and his sweet, sexy mouth.
Their cocks were hard between them within moments, reaching toward their thumping hearts as if drawn to them by the sound and rhythm. The two of them were close enough under the covers that their chest-high, extra-wide, double-headed dicks jostled each other as they grew to full, raging erection, smearing lines of pre on each other’s firm, square, and perceptibly thickened chests as they jumped and flexed against each other. Craig, meanwhile, stolidly met his own gaze, knowing lust and jubilation were building within them both as he let his steady, warm breaths gust across his other self’s full, inviting mouth, while feeling him do the same.
Soon they shifted, moving slightly toward each other. Their cocks pressed hard against each other’s pecs as both Craigs lifted a hand and cupped the cheek opposite him. Craig noted distractedly that he had new fingers on each hand, feeling them against his cheek even as he saw them on his own hand, caressing the other Craig’s jaw. It occurred to him that he might have gotten other upgrades, too. Probably he did, the way he was feeling, all jazzed with residual transformation energy. His feet were off the bed, protruding past the blankets, though that had been happening the last few days anyway, if on a slightly smaller scale, but he sensed there was more to him, and more of him, than another him getting riled up and as cock-hungry as he was in bed with him. He saw the thought of more changes light his other self’s dark, covetous eyes as well, and Craig’s all-consuming desire to explore their evolving bodies together grew from building summer storm to howling temptest. He resolved then and there to find out just how many abs his other self had this morning by counting them with his tongue.
His tongue. The pink tip of other Craig’s tongue slipped between his full lips as if his mouth couldn’t quite contain it, and Craig stared at it, wanting it bad. He felt his own tongue in his mouth—it was big, and stretchy, and had been seeming especially big when he was hard and aroused lately. He slipped his own tongue out, mirroring of his other self, and the other Craig fixed on it, eyes ravenous.
Suddenly they were kissing, hard and brutal. Sensual and sweet could come later, but right now he needed that tongue in his mouth more than anything in the world. Their lips mashed together as both Craigs dipped their extra-long tongues deep into the other’s hot, elated mouths, sucking passionately and sliding and writhing their tongues around each other like two muscle hotties having sex on the dance floor with their clothes on. Their strong, thick arms snaked around each other’s hard, bare, and increasingly sweaty torsos, clasping their bodies tight together and crushing their thrilled, monster cocks between them, their abnormally long legs and extra-large feet braiding automatically as their kiss built in explosive, sun-hot intensity. Before Craig knew it he was cumming, his release bursting from him as if his body had suddenly become all pleasure and ecstasy, and of course other Craig was cumming too—and he could feel it, he could feel other Craig’s mind-blowing orgasm, and experiencing it pushed his own release to even greater heights just as it did for his other self, the euphoric chain reaction rocketing him—them—into the outer atmosphere as they shot load after load after load across each other’s chest and faces and splattered jets of spunk all over the pillows and onto the headboard behind them.
Craig used a thumb to clear his other self’s eyes of jizz, and received the same treatment. Both of them were grinning like fools. Their eyes met, and no words were needed. They’d only just gotten started. They would be doing this, just this, all day. All month, all eternity. Just kissing and licking and sucking and fucking and holding each other and kissing and kissing and kissing kissing kissing. Still grinning, Craig moved to lick some of the cooling jizz of his other self’s handsome face, and the other Craig laughed and started doing the same, both of them stretching their tongues as long as they could to see just how far they could reach.
They’d been doing this for a minute when he heard a masculine voice say “Holy shit!”—only it was two masculine voices, almost but not quite together. Both Craigs looked up with a start. In the bedroom doorway was a tousle-haired, well-built, classically proportioned and smolderingly-handsome soccer jock with dark, wicked eyebrows and a black smudge of morning stubble, wearing just a beat up pair of boot-cut jeans and nothing else; and behind him, one six-fingered hand on the first one’s shoulder, was an identical duplicate of same. The muscles of their lean, highly prized torsos were all amplified compared with the night before: rounder delts, bulgier traps, tighter eight-pack abs; but the real joy had gone into the hair-dusted pecs, which were easily twice as big as before and jutted out like a little shelf in front of him. Pointing down from them were oversized nipples that seemed to be dripping some kind of precum, and erupting from each of the two men’s jeans were no fewer than four flat, surfboard-shaped cocks that had to be a foot long easy, topping out above their navels and dropping steady rivulets of pre down dusky treasure trails.
“Fuck, you guys too,” said one of the copies of his buddy, the guy everyone knew as Shirtless Noah. There was a little awe in his voice, for what had happened to Craig and probably even more for what had happened to him.
“I don’t know if I’m dreaming right now,” the other said, as they both grew widening grins, their glinting eyes raking Craig’s elongated bodies with obvious lustful intent. Then they said together, “But I sure as fuck don’t want to wake up.”
Craig exchanged a glance with his other self, a reluctant smile emerging on both their faces. He’d wanted nothing more than to spend time with himself, but at the same time his libido was so sky-high right now, especially the way his own arousal was feeding into other Craig’s and vice versa, that even the planet-explosion-sized orgasm they’d just experienced had barely put a dent in it. “Shuck those jeans and get in here,” he said. There’d be lots of chances for alone time later. A little mutual appreciation while he made out with himself wouldn’t hurt… and he might need help counting those abs after all.