Description Rylan is enthralled as his roommate, Peter, seems to be growing all over—though Peter denies anything is happening, and no one else seems to notice either.
|Updated||02 May 2020|
Ryland got sick right after basketball practice. The room was spinning like a carousel, but he left the gym running flat-out, trying to get back to the dorm before he lost his lunch right in front of everyone on the quad. He crawled up the stairs of his 100-year-old brick building, his hands so sweaty they were slipping off as he tried to cling to the railing.
Fuck, is this food poisoning? Definitely. Fucking Pizza, he thought. He hated himself for not choosing the salad.
Ryland stumbled into a toilet stall and had a very unpleasant second encounter with his lunch. But at least the feeling of sickness receded.
When he entered his dorm room, he was still light-headed, the feeling of nausea like cold fog at the edge of his consciousness. He dumped his bag next to the closet, then realized he wasn’t alone—his roommate Peter was lying on his bed, looking even sicker than Ryland.
“Peter? What’s going—what’s wrong? Shit!”
Peter looked like he was in a lot of pain. His arms were folded over his chest, his fists clenched so hard that veins bulged out of his sleeves. He was grinding his teeth with enough force that Ryland worried he would shatter them. His legs stretched straight downward, like something was pulling them away from his body, his toes pressed against the wall at the end of his bed.
“I’ll go get help,” said Ryland. He went to stand, but Peter jerked him back down with surprising strength. He couldn’t speak, he was in too much pain, but it was obvious he wanted Ryland to stay. So Ryland knelt down next to the bed and waited as another wave of pain wracked Peter’s body, his muscles flexing even harder, the biceps of his crossed arms bulging.
Peter and Ryland didn’t have much in common except their shared dorm room. Peter wasn’t a small guy by any stretch of the imagination. He was big and bulky, a football player with a good shot at a pro career. Ryland, on the other hand, was rather small, drawn to design, and not interested in colliding with other guys in stadiums for competitive reasons. For sure, he envied his big roommate for his exceptional body, but he had no desire to put in the work to build himself a comparable physique. It would have taken years, anyway.
But they’d been living together a few months now, and looking at Peter now, Ryland couldn’t help thinking that his muscles looked bigger than he could ever remember them being.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Ryland said. Peter’s strong arms were shaking. With both hands, Ryland reached out to touch them.
Just as he made contact, Peter’s trembling stopped. The rhythm of his breath began to slow. His face lost its deep red color and the tension that had tightened his whole body seemed to be easing.
For a moment, Peter stared at his small friend. Then he jumped out of bed and ran off toward the bathroom, leaving Ryland to wonder what had just happened.
In the bathroom, Peter splashed some water on his face, then stared at himself in the mirror. Water was dripping off the cleft of his prominent chin and the top of his sweater was soaked with sweat.
He looked buffer than ever. Again. It seemed to be happening more and more often. Peter flexed his big bicep for the mirror. The sleeve of his white tee was close to ripping under the pressure. He was bigger, but the damage seemed more contained than usual.
Peter thought about Ryland again. The bulge inside his jeans was pressing hard against the edge of the sink. His dick was always rock hard after an attack, bigger than usual and eager for a handjob.
Not you, too, he thought. Don’t you get bigger, too.
As if acknowledging him, the muscles behind his groin clenched. He thrust his hips against the counter again. This felt too good. He had to stop.
It was hours before Peter returned to the dorm, and when he came back, it was clear to Ryland that Peter had no interest in talking about what had just happened. Ryland was dying to find out more about Peter’s strange attack, and he couldn’t help but notice, again, how buff Peter looked today. He had always looked like he had the potential to be a serious bodybuilder, but today he was on another level.
Peter loved to wear clothes that were, frankly, too tight. Every shirt and every pair of pants hugged the curves of his body just right, making him the envy of all the guys in his classes. The sleeves of his shirts clung to his massive bis and triceps. He liked the seams under his arms to be close to ripping from the size of his lats and pecs, and the middle seam at the back of his pants was always buried deep into his ass crack, a detail Ryland had noticed once and never been unable to unsee. He made sure Peter never noticed, but he couldn’t get enough of the sight of Peter’s muscular bubble butt shaking up and down in his tight, tight jeans as he walked around campus.
And Ryland hadn’t even thought yet about the hottest thing about Peter.
His horse cock.
Peter had hit the genetic jackpot, clearly. Ryland and Peter had always been good about giving each other their personal space. If one of them needed an hour or two alone, the other would leave and visit the library or the cafeteria. What the other did, alone in the dorm, was an open secret, and even though they kept it casual, Ryland could never keep his mind off what might have been going on when he wasn’t there.
When Peter woke up in the morning and got ready for class, Ryland dutifully averted his eyes. But that didn’t stop him imagining what was on display as Peter changed, unseen, from the underwear he’d slept in into his day clothes: pants (too tight) and a shirt (also too tight). Peter’s magnificent body was like a magnet for Ryland’s eyes. What was it about this guy he couldn’t resist?
Soon, they grew closer together, became friends; became something closer, Ryland thought.
Maybe it was the sports he played that were changing Peter. Not only his body, but his mind too. He sank deeper into “bro culture,” and his casual locker room attitude stayed even when he was alone with Ryland and he’d left the gym behind. Peter started hanging around the apartment in his boxer briefs, and even though Ryland tried never to look too closely at his friend’s crotch, he had to wonder what caused that round, proud bulge. Ryland also almost fainted whenever Peter bent down to pick something up from the ground and his underwear strained hard against his massive, hairy hams.
“You all right?” Peter asked with a cocky smile, standing and flexing his pecs to tease him a little more.
“Yeah. Just daydreaming.”
Ryland was gay, Peter knew that. Ryland had even told him about his boyfriend in another state and how difficult it was for them to meet. But even if Ryland had been single, Peter doubted Ryland would ever be interested in a man like him. Ryland probably was a little disgusted by his oversized muscles, intimidated by his increasing size—that was the reaction of many of the campus girls he overheard chatting about him behind his ever-widening back. And so Peter never worried about going too far with him. It was a good, platonic friendship.
And so Peter began to get bolder.
One day, Ryland came back from an especially long chemistry lecture and found Peter slouched on their little loveseat. He was almost naked, still sweaty and glistening from the gym, wearing only a well-worn pair of briefs. He held his phone right down between his oversized thighs, caressing his bulge playfully now and then in a way that sucked Ryland’s attention. And what a bulge it was. Holy fuck, Ryland had never seen anything like it before. When an average guy wears briefs, his cock and balls hang out in the front pouch with some room to move. But Peter wasn’t an average guy. First, his thighs were so overblown with muscle that his briefs were hiked up on both sides, so they were sitting tighter than usual. Second, and more importantly, his ball sack was big enough to fill the pouch of his underwear…twice! Ryland could make out the spherical shapes of both of Peter’s bull balls through the washed fabric, each one bigger than a clenched fist. If Ryland had been able to look from the side, he would have seen right into his underwear for sure—his sack was so big it was pulling his briefs open on both sides. And third (Ryland’s knees were starting to shake), Peter had to wear his cock under his waistband. It was his only option. It stretched clear to his hip bone that way. His cockhead was almost visible because of its thickness, but Peter seemed totally unconscious of it. He was just sitting there playing, just a totally unaware muscle bull.
“Hope you don’t mind me chilling here. The gym kicked my ass today.”
Ryland shook his head, trying not to stare at Peter’s overstuffed crotch.
“Mm, you’re right,” Peter said, even though Ryland hadn’t said anything. “I should clean up my shit.”
He was right: his gear was lying around the room like shrapnel. He stood up, faster than Ryland would have expected from a man his size. Ryland became conscious of the smell of dude funk in the room, especially when Peter was passing him—the bulge of Peter’s cockhead actually brushed his side for a split second. Peter’s package was bobbing up and down, dangerously powerful, with each step, to the point where Ryland was worried his cock would tumble out any second and he wouldn’t be able to ignore it anymore. But the briefs seemed to be holding up even though their best years lay far behind them. Ryland noticed that there was a huge hole at the back, showing a glimpse of the deep and hairy valley parting Peter’s two massive globes. Peter bent down to pick his stuff up and a few seams gave way as the hole stretched a little bit wider.
“Finished!” Peter announced a moment later, straightening up as the muscles in his arms twitched and bulged. “Ah, damn. I still need to shower.”
And then, as Ryland watched, he pulled his underwear down with one quick gesture and stepped out of it. His manhood was finally free! After slapping wetly against his thighs a few times, his cock came to rest.
Ryland couldn’t look away. He tried, but he wasn’t strong enough, and now it almost seemed like Peter wanted him to see it. Now he was using the underwear to wipe away the sweat between his ballsack and thighs, which caused his endowment to swing aggressively left and right. He grabbed a towel and walked out toward the showers, as if all of this were totally normal. Ryland watched his low-hanging balls swinging against his thighs as he left.
This was the first time Ryland had ever seen Peter in his full, uncensored glory, but it wasn’t the last. From that day on, Peter wore less and less around his friend, his wardrobe gradually reducing further and further until it consisted of mostly jockstraps. And even these, like everything else he wore, were too small, the straps burying themselves deep in his ass cheeks, his too-large ballsack ready to explode through the fabric.
Peter never mentioned his strange attack again. Ryland never brought it up, but seeing Peter in so much pain had left a strong impression on him, and he wanted to make sure everything was okay with him. Several times the words were on the tip of his tongue. But eventually it seemed like too much time had passed to have that conversation, and Ryland forgot about it until things began to change drastically.
In the following months, Ryland kept a closer eye on his roommate and he gradually realized that something major was going on with him. But it was weird, because it seemed like he was the only one to notice the changes in Peter. No one else ever pointed out that Peter seemed to be growing without effort, unnaturally large, relentlessly bigger and bigger. Peter was outgrowing his clothes, his shoes, some door frames, some cars…but no one saw it as anything worth commenting on. Whereas for Ryland it was fast becoming all he could think about.
Peter had become an astonishing hunk of masculinity. Soon he was six and a half feet tall, with the biggest muscles on campus—maybe the biggest in the state. But that was only Ryland’s guess. He had never seen a bodybuilder in real life.
Of course, everything he wore was too small. All his shirts strained at the back where his wide lats pressed against the thinning fabric. All his jeans were too tight around his quads and glutes—they all eventually developed holes between his massive thighs. And he couldn’t fully zip up his jackets anymore now that his pecs had gotten too big to pack inside them.
Peter was in denial about most of it.
“I’m not that big!”
“My ass isn’t that thick.”
“My guns aren’t that huge!”
But what bothered him most was the rumor that he had a gigantic penis. It was almost like something he didn’t want to be true. It was made worse by the fact that everyone on campus seemed to know about his massive endowment. It was obviously hard to hide in extremely tight jeans. Ryland couldn’t understand why Peter wouldn’t just give in and wear something that fit better, but he was deaf to every suggestion he made.
“If someone has a problem with my ‘big fucking dick’ being on display all the time, they can come to me. I’ll show them what a tight fit is.”
“All right, calm down. It was just a joke.”
It wasn’t, but Ryland knew how closed-minded Peter could be. Especially when it came to his expanding body.
Another two months after that, Ryland was woken up by Peter returning from a night out. It was three in the morning, completely dark, and Peter seemed to be having an unusual amount of trouble undressing. Peter was swearing as he tried to get his shirt off in the dark, until a loud ripping sound stopped him. Ryland feigned sleep, but he was still listening closer than ever.
Yeah, sure. You haven’t been growing like crazy and I’m the stupid one, Ryland thought.
The next ripping noise was more violent. Peter must have ripped the shirt right off his body. Ryland heard the shreds piling on the ground. Peter’s belt followed with a heavy clunk, and Peter tripped against the couch a second time.
He’s really drunk, Ryland thought. I’ve never seen him drunk before.
Peter dropped his jeans onto his bed and stepped out of his jockstrap. To Ryland, the snap of the overstretched waistband was like the crack of a whip in their silent room.
But he really wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Instead of lying down in his own bed, Peter seemed to be getting closer to Ryland’s, and with every step, he swore he could hear his fat soft swinging cock slapping his thighs: left, right, left, right…
“Ry? Are you awake? Hey, Ry?”
Ryland turned in his bed, and even though the moon was the only light source, the scene in front of his eyes was clear as day. Peter, the 6 foot 8 giant, stood right in front of his bed, his hairy Mr. Olympia thighs and his impossible whale cock only inches away from his nose. He had grown since he’d last seen him fully naked. A lot!
“Yeah,” Ryland answered, his throat dry.
“I don’t feel good. Can I lay down with you for a second?”
Ryland thought about it, but it seemed to already be happening faster than he could react. The growing muscle bull first laid a hand on Ryland’s mattress, followed by one leg, then the other. Loudly protesting, the bed accepted his astronomical body weight, and before Ryland could say a word, Peter was huddling with him under the same blanket. Ryland felt like he was pressed between two walls, the literal one behind him and the mass of Peter right in front of him. Peter’s arm was pressing heavily against his belly, until his friend lifted out of the way.
“Mm … sorry about that.”
Fuck, that wasn’t his arm. Holy shit!
“Peter! You know how insanely big you’ve been getting over the last year?”
Peter’s answer sounded very serious and very drunk: “Shit, yeah, I know. It just doesn’t stop.”
It was the first time Peter had admitted it to Ryland.
“Bro, what is happening to you? What is going on?”
“Shit, I need someone to talk to! You can see it too, right?”
“See what? Your size?”
“This,” Peter groaned, and Ryland could feel the massive cock pressing against his sternum, as firm as a meaty fist against him.
“Fuck, your dick is enormous!”
Peter’s breath was hot and wet, but full of worry. “It’s almost 15 inches soft now. I don’t know what to do.”
Jesus … 15 inches.
“How is that possible, Peter? Last time you talked to me about it, you already weighed 290 pounds. I haven’t seen you lifting in months.” Ryland grabbed him by his cannonball shoulder to try to console him. He truly was built like a brick wall.
Peter took a deep breath.
“That was last month. I’m already over 320. Fuck, I’m so big. My body is getting so fucking huge and I don’t know what to do. Every doc I’ve seen is clueless. They… fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think they can’t even see it. Not like us.”
The room went silent.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m like, one of the most massive guys the world has ever seen, but no one gives it a second thought. Shit, for a while even I thought it wasn’t happening. The sudden growth, the nonstop increase in size, my penis dropping lower and lower, my balls swelling.” He said the last word as if he was still feeling the growth right there and then.
“Is that why you’re always wearing these super tight clothes?! You mean… I… I’m the only other guy who can see it?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. All I know is that you’re the only one who’s ever commented on it.”
“Yeah, because you don’t stop growing the fuck bigger!”
“I know, I know!” he said, suddenly sounding very small and drunk again.
“Hey, big guy. Look, I’m sorry.” Ryland put his hand on his friend’s cheek in the dark, the stubble tickling his palm. He suddenly realized that he’d never touched Peter like this before. “I’m really sorry. It’s just that I’m worried about you. I mean, this isn’t natural, right? It can’t be. At least I’ve never heard of anything like it. But… even though I know it freaks you out, I have to admit that the size you’ve put on… really suits you.”
It took Peter a moment to find his voice.
“You’re not just saying that to cheer me up?”
Ryland summoned all his courage. “Listen, big guy. I’ve been watching you grow these last few months, and…” Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was saying this! “All I can say is: I think you get sexier with every pound you gain.”
Ryland wasn’t prepared for Peter’s way of saying thank you. A second later, he found himself sharing a deep kiss with his best friend. To help him find Ryland’s lips in the dark, Peter framed his friend’s face with his huge hands.
Ryland was shaking. The biggest guy in the state was kissing him! Ryland’s dick was ready to explode already; he could feel a big wet spot growing on his pants where his boner ended. The kiss lasted 5 seconds, then 10, and they felt like the longest seconds of Ryland’s life. What should he do? He was so damn horny for his roommate, but Peter was drunk, and this was probably a mistake.
But Peter wasn’t finished with Ryland yet. He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue against Ryland’s, emptying Ryland’s brain.
“Fuck, I’m feeling so hot.” Peter’s voice was nothing more than a warm breath on Ryland’s cheeks.
“Dude, even your tongue is massive.”
Ryland could feel his friend smile in the dark, then they were kissing again, and this time, Peter used all of his size to kiss him.
Fuck, everything about Peter is just massive! His tongue is bigger than my boyfriend’s fucking dick! His boyfriend. Ryland stopped for a second and Peter stopped kissing him too.
Already out of breath, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
Don’t think about him now…you’ve already crossed the line and you know it. You want more…from Peter.
“Nothing. Come here, big guy!”
And he dove back into the kiss.
In rising disbelief, they could both feel Peter’s cock growing hard between them. At first, Ryland tried not to pay attention to the swelling, rock-hard monster between them, but when it didn’t stop getting bigger, it became impossible to ignore. It was actually pushing him out of the way!
“Peter?! When is this thing gonna be done growing?”
This was the first time Peter seemed to realize how genuinely gigantic his appendage was.
“It’s too big, I know, bro.”
Ryland gasped, “You really don’t know how much I’m obsessed with your size, do you?”
Peter wanted to immediately kiss his roommate again, but instead he accidentally pushed his fat horse cock against his chin.
“Ouch! Bro, really, how big is it?”
Ryland leaned over and turned the lamp next to his bed. They both needed a second to get used to the light, but then…
“Peter! Holy fuck, this is impossible!”
The wet spot in Ryland’s pants grew bigger.
Lying on his side, Peter was as big as a mountain range. Every pound of muscled flesh seemed to be fighting for space on his bulging frame. His hairy chest swelled forward, crowding me against the wall. Below was a bloated cobblestone road of muscle bricks leading down toward his surreal horse cock. But his cock was blocking most of the view. Not only was it thicker than a two-liter coke bottle, it was also much longer than Ryland would have expected. It reached up to Peter’s collarbone, which was buried under dozens of pounds of pec muscle. His dick pulsed now in midair, straining toward Peter’s chin, only a few inches away.
“How…how big is it?”
“Probably 20 inches already. Maybe 21?”
“I never would have pegged you for—”
“A grower?” Peter had to laugh. “Yeah, nobody is thinking that when they see me swinging it around soft.”
“How do you hide it when you get a hard-on? In class?”
“Sometimes I can cool it down by thinking about something else. But when I’m in the back of the room, I can just put it under my shirt and let it go upward, like now. It calms down in half an hour or so most of the time.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Under your shirt?”
“As long as it’s covered, nobody notices how massive I am, remember?”
“Right. Except me,” Ryland sighed.
As they continued to make out, Ryland paused to take in Peter’s body: how it moved, how powerful every contraction of his muscles was, how insanely strong he was. He tried to guess how big he was, groping every inch of his hot body even as his lips never left Peter’s. With every body part his fingers encountered, his mind was blown again.
Forearms, 18 inches.
Biceps, 23 inches.
Shoulders, 66 inches.
Chest, 60 inches.
Waist, 34 inches.
Calves, 21 inches
Quads, 34 inches!
Cock, 14¾’’ soft, 21+’’ hard?
Suddenly, Peter took the lead, swinging his massively thick thigh over Ryland’s tiny body and sitting on top of his crotch. Peter’s cock was an inch away from his roommate’s mouth as it bobbed in midair, gasping for Ryland’s touch.
Ryland couldn’t hold back. The orgasm shaking his body almost knocked him out. Peter was so heavy on top of him, he couldn’t move.
“Fuck, bro,” said Peter, almost speechless. “You really are into this.”
He gave his tiny friend a gun show. 24 inches, definitely 24, Ryland thought, revising his estimate upward. He almost came again.
Ryland was finally ready to take Peter’s cock in his mouth. He leaned forward a little and moved his tongue along the massive slit. Fuck, I could probably fit my whole cock in there. Holy shit…
“Mmm, yeah, that’s good. Don’t stop.”
Ryland put his hands on both sides of the shaft and started jerking him slowly. It was a lot of work. He buried his face deeper into the spongy mass of Peter’s cock head. In no time, Ryland’s face was covered in precum.
“This always happens when I get excited …”
“Probably eases the way.”
“The way for what? Wait. You think this cock has ever seen the inside of anything but my own paws?”
“Fuck, yes, I’m a virgin. Biggest virgin in the fucking world.”
“No one’s ever wanted a taste?”
“Very funny. Have you seen this thing?”
He pushed it deep into Ryland’s face. Ryland moaned. “So big,” he murmured dreamily.
“Yeah,” Peter groaned. “Scares the shit out of people.”
“But you haven’t always been this big.”
Suddenly Peter gave away a wide cocky grin. “I haven’t always been this gigantic. But I’ve always been huge down there. Ever since as I can remember I’ve been way bigger than everyone else. The first time I measured it, it was already 7 and a half inches long. And you know it’s only gone up from there.”
A good part of him is still enjoying this!
As Ryland continued to jack the cock on his chest, he failed to realize that Peter was doing more than groaning and moaning in pleasure. His eyes were closed, his mouth wide open, enjoying his handjob loudly…until he suddenly collapsed on top of Ryland. Buried under 340 pounds of muscle, Ryland was trapped.
“Peter? Peter, you have to stand up! Please! I can’t breathe!”
And then Ryland realized that Peter was having another attack. He was in the same position Ryland had found him in on the bed months before. Arms and legs stretched all the way out, every muscle contracted to the limit.
He couldn’t hear him.
And then he felt it.
Peter was getting even heavier.
But his roommate couldn’t hear him anymore. Whatever was happening to him, it was wracking his entire body, every muscle painfully contorted, contracted to the limit, flexing, swelling.
Only seconds from passing out under Peter’s colossal weight, Ryland’s hands found his friend’s back—the inner edge of his huge lats, really—and the attack suddenly subsided. Peter stopped grunting, his breath slowed.
When he realized that he was crushing Ryland, he quickly pushed himself up to all fours.
“Are you okay?”
Ryland was still catching his breath.
“That was close, holy shit. I underestimated how heavy you are now.”
Peter’s face was flushed with concern. “I’m so sorry, Ryland! I almost crushed you, but luckily—wait. You stopped it!”
“It was you! Whatever that was, it wasn’t over yet; it lasts longer, usually. You touched me and the feeling just went away. How did you do that?”
“I swear to God I didn’t do anything!”
“Maybe one touch is all it takes.”
Peter’s brow furrowed. He was still on all fours above Ryland, not noticing that his full ball sack was resting on top of his friend’s raging hard-on. His two orange-sized orbs looked capable of blowing a tsunami of a load.
Peter looked down and followed Ryland’s gaze.
“They get especially full after I grow.”
“So you are bigger now?”
“A little, yeah. I guess less than usual since you stopped it. Thanks for that.”
Ryland was having trouble paying attention; his gaze was still riveted on the gentle swaying of massive balls as he moved. Peter rose to his feet and stood on the scale on the other side of the room.
“Just another pound and a half,” he reported with a wide smile. “I’ve never gained so little! Looks like you could really help me out here, Ry!”
“Happy to lend a hand however I can…” Ryland said, not taking his eyes from Peter’s colossal soft cock. It had to be 15 inches in length, still wet and glistening.
The 321 and a half-pound mountain of man drew close to Ryland on the bed again, a cocky grin on his face, his swagger even a little wider than before. He leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on Ryland’s lips. “What do you say to this,” he whispered. “You help me keep this growth under control…and I let you do whatever you want with me.”
“You want to stop growing?”
“I didn’t say that.. I don’t wanna stop…yet. I just wanna be in control of it. So, what do you say?”
A verbal answer wasn’t even necessary. Ryland’s cock was hard and leaking again just from kissing Peter on his full lips.
In no time Peter was lying next to him on the bed again, grinding their size-mismatched dicks together, spraying everything with precum in the process. By the time Peter was close to coming, Ryland had already shot several times. Feeling drunk with luck, he put his lips close to Peter’s left ear and whispered, “So, you probably know by now how much I like big guys…especially guys with size like yours.”
Peter groaned, “Mmm, yeah, for sure—keep rubbing my cock like that. Aww, yeah.” And then, all of a sudden he grinned and added, “Tell me how big I am!”
Holy shit, he’s really into being this gigantic.
Ryland started going faster on Peter’s prodigious cock. He would have the big guy eating right out of his hand.
“You’re the biggest man I’ve ever seen, Peter. And getting so much bigger every week! You’re the most jacked and most hung stud I have ever met. You’re bursting with muscles on muscles. Bloated to the max. I’ve seen the way you waddle, how you can’t even reach your back anymore.”
Peter’s breath was running shorter. His broad face turned even redder. He was close.
“Together we’re gonna tame this beast inside of you. Learn to control it. Help you grow exactly the way you want.”
“Oh, fuck yeah, Ryland! Don’t stop, keep going! How big would you want me to be?”
Fuck it, thought Ryland. He should know the truth.
“The way you’re going, you’re gonna be the most massive guy on the planet! I’m picturing you at 600 pounds of pure muscle…plus an extra hundred pounds between your fat hams down here.”
He gave Peter’s cock a hard jerk. In response, Peter’s big paws dug deep into the sheets and he let out an ecstatic moan, his deep voice shaking the walls.
“You’ll learn to live the 700-pound life with my help. I’ll be there for you every step of the way and, bro, it’s gonna be the best thing that ever happened to you. All that strength and size, all that power, it’ll all be yours.”
“Fuck, I’m close. Don’t stop! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“You know, all I have to do is touch you and we can stop anytime you want…but I think we both know you should save that little ability for later. Much later. In the meantime, your need for mass is gonna take over.”
“Beyond 1,000 pounds!”
“Ngh, Ryland! Stop, mmmm, Fuck!”
“Maybe we’ll make it over 1,200. That’s four times what you weigh now. Imagine how big your cock will be then!”
“2,000—3,000—4,000 pounds—or beyond—”
But Ryland never made it to what would happen after 4,000 pounds. The next thing he knew, Peter had grabbed him and pressed his mouth onto his rigid 21-inch cock just as it was starting to unload his massively swollen balls. Ryland felt like he’d been fastened to a fire hose unstoppably shooting warm gel down his throat.
“Fuck, I’m so big! There’s so much cum! Drink it all, Ry.”
Ryland tried to. A few spurts escaped his mouth because of the tremendous pressure, but most went straight down. A warm sensation began to spread outward from Ryland’s belly. By the time it ended, he was sure that he had just downed half a gallon of Peter’s cum like it was nothing. Now they really were connected in more ways than one.
Peter collapsed to the bed. His thick, hairy pecs were covered in a solid sheen of sweat and his breath was coming in huge gulps. His erection was prodigious and showed no sign of going down.
“This will take a while. A long while,” he said, lifting his monster with one hand to check his balls. They had shrunk down to the size of overgrown lemons. “That felt incredible. Thanks, Ry! You’re amazing!…Ry?”
His roommate had passed out. His face was covered in white juice, eyes closed, breathing peacefully. Peter put his hand on Ryland’s swollen belly. He had had a cute 4-pack a few minutes before, but was now the owner of a gurgling ball belly almost the size of a basketball.
“Shit. Filled you right up,” he said with satisfaction. He turned off the lights and lay down to sleep beside Ryland, dreaming of the year ahead.
Ryland and Peter had been very good friends before, but after that night, they came together like brothers. They were united in pursuit of the same goal: to help Peter become the best version of himself. And as it turned out, they both agreed that his best version was huge—even bigger than he already was.
“So it all probably started about two years ago. It’s kinda hard to pinpoint the exact moment because I didn’t realize I was growing at first.”
It was a sunny day. A stream of light was playing along Peter’s fine jawline as he sat on his bed in shorts and shirt, his package tenting obscenely, his sleeves close to ripping. Per usual.
“When did you first notice that something was off?”
“When my cock started growing nonstop—haha, love your face, bro! It’s priceless. It’s true, though. I loved the muscle mass I was packing on, and I just thought that the gym was paying off nicely. But over the summer, it started being hard to ignore that things down there were escalating quickly. Even when the school year ended, guys on the football team were calling me ‘Big D.’ I was packing a lot where it mattered, more than anyone else. Almost 9 inches soft; the guys would stare. Then summer came along and these, like, attacks started. We had all this time off and I just started to grow in every direction. When I got back on the field in September I was just enormous. Like, serious mass. I got a lot of compliments on the gains, and that was with my clothes still on. And it was a whole other story in the shower. They went speechless when they saw my junk.”
Ryland licked his lips. “How big were you back then?”
“Almost 11 inches soft for sure. With two big low-hangers to match, of course.”
“What did they call you after that? Stallion, Muscle Pete, Giant, Horse-Prick Peter…?”
“No! That was the confusing part. Everyone seemed to pretty much take it in stride. Like, at first I’d wait to have the showers all to myself—I thought the guys would mock me for being so much bigger—but nobody gave a shit. And eventually I got used to them not noticing. Which is why I wear just jockstraps most of the time now. You already know, when I try to cover up…”
“…People can’t really see you steadily growing bigger. So…even if you’re standing in the locker room, your monstrous dick exploding out of your too-tight jockstrap, one of your balls peeking out, your muscles on full display and way bigger than anyone our age has ever been…they can’t see that?”
“Want me to demonstrate?”
Peter went to the door and poked his head into the hallway. One of his teammates had just left his room on his way to the library.
“Hey, Jesse, come here for a second.”
A cute, buff dude with a buzzcut appeared in the doorframe. “What’s up?”
“I was just having a discussion with little Ryland here. He thinks my scale is broken. As a fellow athlete…how heavy would you guess I am?”
Jesse took his time appraising Peter’s body for a second, as if he were pricing a stallion on a farm. Peter put his hands on his hips.
That shirt looks painted on his body, Ryland thought. If he squats in those shorts, the center seam would blow out instantly. I’ve never seen a bubble butt that enormous. Damn, I’m getting hard already.
Jesse was finally ready with his verdict.
“255? Maybe 260 after a good dinner?”
“That’s what I thought. Thanks, Bud.” Peter closed the door and turned back to Ryland. “I weighed myself on an empty stomach this morning. 338 pounds.”
“Holy fuck,” Ryland whispered. “They really can’t see how massive you are.”
“Nope,” said Peter, smiling widely. “They can’t.”
If the world can’t see his true size, he can gain as much as he wants without worrying about it. And now he’s got me, so if he ever wants to stop, I can be there to help him.
“So what was your plan before I came into the picture?”
“I don’t know—these last few weeks I got pretty desperate. My cock grew another inch and I put on 15 pounds of muscles in just 14 days. I mean, you know me, I loved every single ounce. But it made me nervous. What if it didn’t stop? At some point I wouldn’t be able to live my normal life anymore.”
“When? I mean, you outweigh some Mr. Olympias as it is.”
Instead of answering Ryland’s question, Peter grinned and flexed his biceps for him. Ryland covered his raging hard-on with his hands, fighting the urge to touch his friend’s massive arms without asking first.
“You saw me a few nights ago,” Peter said when the gun show was over. “How I enjoyed your touch and your words. That was one of the most amazing sessions I’ve ever had. Nobody gets me like you, Ryland.”
Ryland blushed, too shy to answer. Peter continued, “So let’s see where the wind blows us. These next few weeks are gonna be fun. I know you know how big a deal this is for me, to have you here. And I don’t know how long it’s gonna last…so I need you, Ryland.”
“I’m here for you…I promise.”
Peter smiled from ear to ear. He gave his 200-pounds-lighter friend a deep kiss.
Fuck. I think I might be falling for this big guy.
A lot changed after Peter invited Ryland to be part of his little project. Most noticeably, his growth sped up—dramatically.
Given how much Peter’s growth had terrified him before, it amazed Ryland how much Peter wanted to grow now that he knew he could stop anytime—even when he wasn’t growing, they talked about nothing but his size and how much bigger he was going to get. And when they weren’t talking about it, they were thinking about it.
Peter was going back to the gym on a regular basis, and his appetite ballooned—suddenly at every meal he was eating enough for four grown men. And it still wasn’t enough. They would be at a burger joint, Peter surrounded by empty wrappers, his bloated gut on full display, and he would say, “I gotta make more gains, Ryland, seriously. You have to bring me more to eat. For real!”
Ryland’s mind was blown by his friend’s insane progress. The shirt Peter wore that day wasn’t even long enough to cover his bloated gut. Most of it was stuck under his juicy pecs, making it look more like a crop top. As usual, the two of them were the only ones who thought anything of it. Peter’s abs were still there, but his belly was swollen to the max, revealing the stretch marks he had accumulated stuffing himself with food like crazy for three weeks straight.
“You’d better slow down, big guy, before you pop,” Ryland joked.
Before he’d even swallowed his previous bite, Peter stuffed another burger into his gaping maw and started to chew noisily.
“Mmm, it’s so good. Really fueling the gains. I can eat whatever I want now. And as much as I want. It’s only gonna make me”—a loud belch interrupted him mid-sentence—”bigger!”
And just a few minutes after that, still in public, in the middle of the day, Peter had one of his growth attacks while he was still eating. Ryland watched as Peter stretched his legs and arms, making loud cracking sounds that Ryland recognized.
“Everything all right?” Ryland asked.
Peter just nodded and smiled, then grimaced. Even though he assured Ryland it was worth it, the growth actually entailed a lot of pain. Ryland noticed that most of today’s growth seemed to be flowing directly into his gigantic friend’s already-oversized pecs. They ballooned bigger in their shirt, exposing more and more of Peter’s bloated gut.
“Uff, seems like these puppies can never be big enough,” Peter grinned, his teeth clenched. He danced them for Ryland, his shirt now so tight that it barely covered anything else. The whole time, Peter just kept on eating, even as the hard-on that always accompanied his growth spurts kept rising in his way-too-tight pants.
“I think I have to rearrange here a bit.” Peter’s hands disappeared under the table. He looked left and right, unsnapped his pants, and manhandled his cock up before snapping his pants again. Now vertical under his shirt, his cock easily reached high enough to nestle between his pecs, swelling as it continued pushing its way higher still.
“Your cock sure looks bigger.”
“I know, right? 24 inches already. I’m getting to be kind of a stallion.”
Due to the shortness of his shirt, several inches of his thick shaft was now visible. At the beginning of their journey, Ryland had been shocked at how blind people could be to Peter’s massive size. Even now, with a good portion of his prick hanging out of his pants and snaking up into his shirt, no one seemed to mind. A worker came by, wiped down the table next to theirs, glanced directly at Peter and his stretched-out body, the contour of his cock visibly swelling upward under his way-too-tight shirt—and the guy just gave them a nod and walked away.
“I will never get used to this.”
“Trust me, you will,” Peter said, just as his cock popped out of his collar.
“Look at that fucking beast you’re packing!”
“I know. I think all that junk food must be going straight to my cock!”
Peter bent his head down, opened his mouth, and actually started sucking his cock in public for a minute. In response, his prick swelled another inch or two in length, and suddenly he was having trouble blowing it by himself.
He laughed out loud. “Dude, are you seeing this? I’m even outgrowing myself!”
“You’re gonna need me more than ever, then, looks like.”
“For sure, little fella.”
By the time they left the restaurant, Peter was at least five pounds heavier than when he’d arrived, rounding out nicely, his cock beginning to drench his entire outfit in precum. No one gave him a second glance.
It wasn’t until they were in the elevator down to the parking garage that Peter’s dick finally calmed down. Eventually, his soft cock flopped right out of his shirt, and he leisurely tucked it back into his pants.
“Have you measured your height lately, bro?” Ryland asked. “I feel like I’m having to crane my neck up more than ever.”
“Last night, actually. I’m 6’10’’ now. Really getting into giant territory!” Peter said with a wide smile, his fat bulge jiggling as he patted his distorted muscle gut. Ryland adored how much Peter could indulge himself without consequences; within hours, his belly would slim down to his usual chiseled ten-pack, which would stay until he started his next ludicrous stuffing session.
Since Peter didn’t fit well in cars anymore. Ryland was the designated chauffeur. Peter had jammed the passenger seat of Ryland’s little Toyota all the way back, but the space was still too small for him. Soon they were going to have to find another way to get the giant from place to place.
Peter looked the most massive in the smallest spaces, and Ryland often had trouble concentrating on the road. If it got to be too much, they would stop in a deserted rest area for a quickie to tame their lust again. It wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes. Peter’s massive balls were good for a full quart of cum every half hour. Even more, if he ate well.
Peter was enjoying feeding his loads to his small friend, and Ryland loved taking them, but both of them soon realized that these sessions were coming with a price. Ryland was putting on a little bit of weight, too.
“How do you think you’re going to end up, if I keep feeding you like this?” Peter asked one time after filling Ryland up in his car.
“I could ask you the same question,” Ryland groaned. He reached into the side pocket of the car and gave the protein shake he found there to his big friend.
Ryland walked toward the playing field with Peter’s monster protein shake. The big guy was busy hauling weights down the field; while some of his teammates were having trouble with their weight sleighs, Peter was pulling his with two students on top without breaking a sweat. When he saw Ryland, he grinned and went to meet him at the fence.
Connor, one of the defenders, shouted: “We wanna start again in two minutes!”
“I’ll be there.” He turned to Ryland and smiled. “Hey, little guy. Nice to see you. I was so excited for this drink.”
“Extra thick, just how you like ‘em!”
“Just how you like ‘em,” said Peter with a wink. “You know me so well.”
Peter raised the big bottle to his lips with two meaty hands. The uniform he was wearing had fit him a month before; today it looked like he’d stolen it from one of the freshmen. The legs didn’t even reach his knees anymore and his ten-pack was on full display. Following the treasure trail down, Ryland realized that the base of Peter’s fat shaft was peeking out now, too. He just had to smile.
“Boy, you are getting big. And the guys don’t even see that?”
“Nope, they don’t. I asked Connor before we started practice, and all he said was he thought Coach should get a bigger uniform for me. To be honest, though, I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna be able to play at all…”
“Why? You’re so good at it. Everyone says so.”
“That’s nice of you, Ry. But I’m getting really slow. An extra hundred pounds takes its toll, go figure.” He gulped down the rest of his shake and leaned over the top of the fence.
“Well, I love the new weight,” said Ryland. “You look better every day.”
Peter’s bulge was pressed hard against the holes in the fence, the pattern digging deep into the thin fabric of his uniform. Ryland did a double take as he realized that the package in front of him was swelling as he watched. More and more of Peter’s pubes went on display as his prick grew up and out of his pants even as the head burrowed deeper.
“Peter! Come on!” Connor shouted from the field.
“I have to go back,” Peter said, his deep, bearlike voice just a rumble. “Oh, and I’m probably gonna need a trim again tonight. Just so you know.”
“You got it.”
Ryland hung out to watch his big man in the scrimmage. If the others could have seen Peter’s magnificent manhood bouncing up and down the way he could, there would have been no game, that was for sure. At one point, one of his football-sized testicles actually popped out of his overstretched girdle and slapped his thigh loud enough for Ryland to hear from the sidelines.
“Why so slow, Peter? Get it together!”
He grabbed his melon and plunged it back into his pants where it continued to bulge obscenely. He threw Ryland a wink, and the game continued.
Peter was still sweaty from practice when he arrived back at the dorm, his shoulders brushing the frame on both sides as he entered.
“What an afternoon,” he said, rubbing his crotch as he dropped his smelly gym bag. “The boys were out of control! Popping out left and right.” But he was smiling—it sounded like it was anything but a problem for him. “I’ve got to get some new gear. The old uniform is so stretched out now it can’t hold me anymore. I need something tight.”
“We should go shopping this weekend. You need some new shirts, too, bro. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most of your clothes have rips and tears everywhere. I love seeing you in tight clothes, but the holes are a little much.”
“Aww, man, I wanted to see how far I can push it!”
They both had to laugh.
“All right, you ready to give me a little trim? My hair has grown back so thick everywhere.”
“Your wish is my command, mister.”
They headed for the dorm showers, making sure they were alone before they undressed. As always, the sight of Peter’s body rendered Ryland speechless. Peter freed his mountains of muscles from their confines, unveiling more mass than Ryland had ever seen in one place. When his swinging cock was free at last, he gave Ryland a smile. “What?”
“I, uh, brought a measuring tape too.”
“You horny bastard,” Peter laughed. “You wanna know how much bigger I am? That’s fine with me!”
They both knew that reading Peter’s stats out loud would make him hard in no time, so Ryland began with his gigantic soft cock.
“Jeez, it really is a monster, isn’t it?” Peter teased.
“Stop being so cocky, big guy!”
“So what are we working with? Let’s hear the numbers!”
“Holy shit, bro, have you been pumping this thing?”
“Nope, just eating right. It’s all natural.”
It took Ryland some time to measure the behemoth. With so much cock on his hands, his fingers were unsteady. Peter noticed that Ryland was already sporting a raging hard-on, too.
“You better hurry, little guy. Doesn’t look like you’re gonna last long.”
“Fuck, okay. Your massive prick is now 18 and a half inches soft! Diameter is almost 5 inches.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of those numbers,” the giant growled.
Ryland almost dropped his measuring tape.
“19 inches…20…21 inches! Bro, I’ve never seen you get hard this fast.”
“Hearing you talk about it is chubbing me up like crazy! How big is it now?”
Ryland had to stand up. The dick in front of him wasn’t just pulsing bigger and bigger; it was also rising higher.
“24 inches…holy…already 5 and a half in diameter…25 inches. 26! God, can you hold your precum in for two more seconds? It’s getting real slippery here.”
“Mmm,” Peter growled, and smiled innocently. He shoved his hips forward and a wide stream of pre erupted from his cock onto Ryland’s face. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Ryland wiped his brow. “Okay, I think this is your final size. Are you ready?”
“Yes! Tell me how big I’m getting!”
“27 and a half by 6 inches. Congratulations, this isn’t even a third leg anymore. It’s a fucking tree trunk.”
“Fuck, it is looking really big. Even to me! Come on, do the rest of me.”
Slowly, Ryland made the rounds of Peter’s body. Every new stat left him dumbfounded.
“Peter, you’ve outdone yourself this week, holy shit.”
“Okay, your forearms are 21 inches now, and way veinier than I remember. Biceps have grown to 26 inches already! That’s unheard of.”
“For a natural!”
“For a natural,” Ryland amended. “Shoulders: 75 inches. Chest: a whopping 72 inches! Quite the rack you’re growing there, big guy.”
“Mmm, that would be awesome, don’t you think, if I had real moobs? Some nice big spheres to crush you with?”
There was a splash. Peter’s precum was hitting the floor.
“Sure, grow those puppies right out, Peter! Where were we? Waist: 33 inches! You actually lost an inch there.”
“Haven’t been stuffing myself today. Guess I wanted to look good for you and your measuring tape!”
“Calves are now 24 inches, and your quads are…just a second…39 and a half! No wonder you’re starting to waddle so much.”
“I love having to walk like that; my stance is getting wider every day.”
“That’s what I like to hear, muscle man. You might have to help me with your height.”
Peter held one end of the tape at the top of his head. Ryland had to correct him because he wanted to cheat and hold it an inch too high. Ryland pulled the other end down and made the announcement. “Drumroll, please! You…fuck! You did it, big guy! 7 feet! You’re an official giant now!”
Peter swung around to give his little friend a hug, but instead his cock almost knocked him over.
“Whoa, mind the beast!”
“I’m sorry, it’s just so big! I’m still getting used to it.”
“Well, get used to it quick. It’s growing so fast it might be even bigger by the end of the night.”
“That’s the plan,” Peter said, giving Ryland a wink, followed by a deep, passionate kiss.
As they both stood naked together in the shower area, Ryland went to work on Peter’s forest of body hair. They were doing this once a week now—ever since Peter had started his new lifting and eating regimen, the body hair situation had been escalating out of control.
“I’ll miss your fur,” Ryland said, pouting a little.
“I’ll look even bigger without it, though.”
Ryland raised an eyebrow. “Is that why I have to do this every week? So you don’t look small?”
“Yeah, and so I don’t turn into a werewolf!”
Ryland was in the middle of trimming Peter’s back when the big guy suddenly slammed his hands against the wall, well above showerhead height. He arched his back and pushed his massive hairy ass out, catching Ryland’s cock in the valley between his chiseled cheeks. Ryland looked up to see Peter staring back at him over his shoulder, breathing heavily.
“Put it in. And don’t be gentle. I really need this from you today.”
“You sure, big guy? We’ve never done it before.”
“I know you’ve wanted to do it since the first time we met….because so have I. I know it’s hard to believe, but I was too shy to ask you. Because I’m like this super big, strong guy, and everyone expects I’m gonna be an alpha top or some shit like that…but the truth is, I’ve been desperate for cock in my ass for a while now. Even a growing body needs to be roughed up once in a while.”
Ryland spat in his hand and slicked his dick up.
“Sure as anything.”
Ryland pressed the head of his cock against Peter’s hole. He was surprised to see Peter’s knees shaking. He actually needed a second to get used to Ryland’s seven-incher. But he rallied in no time.
Ryland didn’t hold back. He grabbed Peter by his hips and started to pound. His bottom was three times as wide as he was, but after just one minute Ryland was close to coming.
“Fuck, you’re so big, Peter. I can’t hold it!”
“Fuck, yeah! Let it happen.”
Peter was moaning so loudly that Ryland began to worry someone would hear them.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah! That feels so good, little guy!”
Ryland’s balls rose and tightened, and he felt his load firing into Peter’s gigantic body. Peter came at the same time, but with very different results. Like an erupting geyser, he fired his load against the bathroom wall. The torrent of cum sounded like a waterfall, crashing to the ground in a torrent. The floor was covered in no time.
By the time Ryland pulled out, his dick was red and swollen. And then he found himself cradled in Peter’s hugely muscular arms.
“Thanks, man,” Peter whispered huskily. “That was the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Peter and Ryland had to say goodbye at the start of the summer break. They had both thought about staying on campus to be with each other, but their families wanted them home and couldn’t be talked into having a guest for the summer.
“See you again in the fall?”
“Fuck, I don’t wanna say goodbye. I miss you already.”
Ryland had never seen his big friend so sad. “You sure you’re not just missing my cock?” he tried.
“I’m sorry, bad joke. I’m a wreck and I don’t know how to handle this. I’m not ready to go all summer without seeing you.”
“You’re not gonna be ready for my return, either!” Peter finally smiled again. “My parents’ farmhouse is the best place to gain! Infinite food, milk, and work are gonna do this body good!”
“Honestly, I can’t wait to see you again. Don’t get too big without me!”
“You know I don’t have a choice. I need you for that.”
“Right. Stay in touch, then.”
In spite of everything, their contact mostly ended once summer started. As it turned out, Peter’s farmhouse was in the middle of nowhere and his parents had no intention of getting a better internet connection. They tried Facetiming a couple times, but as soon as someone activated the camera, the connection broke and the call would drop. In the end, they just talked on the phone once a week, and Ryland couldn’t help noticing that his friend’s voice was dropping lower and lower each time they spoke.
“I can’t wait to see you next week, big guy!”
“I don’t know if ‘big guy’ does me justice anymore,” said Peter, his voice like a roll of thunder. Ryland found he was actually trembling, head to toe.
“No spoilers! If our parents are gonna keep us away from each other, I at least wanna be surprised.”
“I could tell you everything, and you’d still be surprised seeing me on Sunday.”
Jesus, how big IS he? The voice alone is almost killing me!
“I gotta go,” Peter boomed. “Time to eat. Again.” For the first time, Ryland noticed a little worry in his friend’s voice.
“Everything all right, big guy?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m just feeling…a little out of control right now. I think you might have to start moderating the growth a little when we meet up again.”
“Already? I never thought I’d hear you say you might be starting to get too big.”
“Yeah, well, me neither. You aren’t even gonna believe the amount of weight I put on these last few months. Next week, we’re just gonna have to be a little more careful.”
“I can’t wait,” Ryland said nervously.
Ryland moved back into the dorm a few hours before Peter. He waited restlessly for his best friend’s return. To kill time, he looked at some of the photos they’d taken together before the break. Their size difference was incredibly conspicuous, and Ryland couldn’t stop wondering what other people saw when they looked at these photos. Just him and an average-looking football player he happened to be rooming with?
Ryland heard Peter before he saw him. The steps coming down the hall toward their room were too loud to be anyone else, and when he heard the voice greeting someone outside, Ryland was sure. No one had a voice as deep as Peter’s. The rumbling sounds he made were deep enough to penetrate the walls easily.
And then, just like that, the door flew open and Peter was back, as if summer had never happened. But looking at Peter for the first time, it was very obvious that time had passed. There was so much to look at, Ryland had trouble taking it all in at once.
When the door opened, only about half of Peter was visible through the open doorway. He used one of his colossal arms to throw his huge duffel bag into the room—it was the size of a small car, and it crashed deafeningly as it collided with the bed. And then Ryland realized why Peter had done that: there wasn’t room for him and his bag to enter the room at the same time.
When Ryland’s parents had moved into their current house, Ryland had watched the movers bring in their dining room table. To get it into the room, they’d had to flip it on its side, bring two legs in, maneuver the top in, and then flip it again to get the other legs through the frame. If the table is built for ten people or more, there’s no other way.
That table was what Ryland thought of as he watched Peter entering the dorm room.
The frame creaked as Peter grabbed the head of the doorway, bent his head, and pushed one massive bicep and tricep into the room, followed by his head and the right side of his body. He was already breathing like a marathon runner. His other hand was on his waistband, supporting the weight of his package so that his skintight 5XL sweatpants wouldn’t tear from the pressure of his titanic endowment.
As he continued to twist through the doorway, his other hand reached down to pull his bulge out of the way so it wouldn’t be trapped between his massive legs and the door. Meanwhile, a good few inches of the doorframe and the wall were trapped between the massive globes of his ass. With a soft pop, his package audibly arrived in the room, and the other half of Peter’s body clambered in after it.
“Hey, little buddy,” Peter said with a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head. “Looks like my surprise worked.”
Ryland looked down and saw his own cock peeking out of the waistband of his jeans, a small pool of cum covering the bottom half of his shirt.
Peter let go of his worn-out waistband and his package dropped inside his sweats, slumping heavily to collide with his kneecaps. Ryland’s eyes bugged out.
Peter was wearing a pair of size-20 sand-colored Timberlands, sweatpants that looked new but were clearly struggling with the volume of manhood they had to contain, and a sleeveless shirt that clung for dear life to his sweaty body. Peter had also grown an impressive beard, which looked incredible on him. Peter had always claimed not to be a big fan of facial hair, but Ryland guessed that the relentless pace of Peter’s hair growth had finally gotten the upper hand. A glance further down his body seemed to confirm this—Peter was covered in thick dark brown hair, and not just on his chest. The hair under his arms was thick enough to be visible under his jacked guns, and there was also plenty on display around the (visible) base of his cock, and at the top of his (visible) ass crack. Their next shaving session was going to take hours.
He didn’t actually seem to be that much bigger in height, but Ryland couldn’t believe the sheer amount of weight he’d managed to pack on. He remembered how they’d joked about Peter weighing 700 pounds by Christmas. That was still months away, and he almost looked bigger than that already. The only thing Ryland had to do now was get his hands on every single inch of Peter’s overgrown body.
Ryland ran into his absurdly massive arms and they kissed.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you, big guy. And look at you now! You’re majestic! Holy …”
“I’m glad you like it. For a second I was worried I was too big for you already.”
Peter raised one of his massive arms in a monstrous flex. Ryland was having a hard time wrapping his head around his friend’s new body. Peter smiled down at him, clearly enjoying his reaction. Then he said something that made Ryland’s heart skip a beat.
“Close the door. I wanna show you how big I got.”
Ryland swallowed. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He locked the door and turned around to see Peter grabbing the lower half of his tank top. He pulled it over his head, whipping the sweat away from his glistening muscles, and tossed it onto the bed. It looked more like a bedsheet than a shirt.
Peter had grown even more dramatically than Ryland had thought—his body totally filled their little space. One step was all it took for him to cross the room. In no time, Ryland was pinned against the door and his head was engulfed by Peter’s mountainous chest muscles. Peter came in closer, and Ryland felt his swollen package against his lower body like a warm, heavy cushion.
“Speechless, Ry? Bigger than you thought?”
Ryland looked up, grinning peacefully. He closed his eyes and plunged his head deep into the valley.
“You’ve gotten so fucking thick everywhere. And hairy! Jeez!”
The forest of hair on the big man’s chest was already amazing, but when Peter raised one of his arms, Ryland realized it wasn’t just Peter’s muscle size that had changed. The once-small patch of hair under his arm was now bigger than Ryland’s head, each hair thick and black as pitch. Peter went to grab Ryland’s head to press it into his armpit, but his own muscle mass actually blocked him. His colliding biceps and chest muscles stopped him from crossing his arms the way he’d been able to the year before.
“You see that? Can’t even reach my own pits anymore.”
“I guess that kind of thing will happen a lot more as you get bigger.”
Peter whispered, “I can’t wait!”
Ryland buried his face in Peter’s massive, hairy pit. He actually had to take a step to the left to get there—that was how wide Peter was getting. Ryland sank deep into the dark sea of hair, immersing himself in the heavy musk he found there.
“Fuck, Peter, you smell so good! Mmm, fuck, I’ve missed that smell so much.”
Down below, he could feel his own cock pressing hard into Peter’s powerful thighs, spreading the wetness of his dick against them. There it was again, the familiar sensation of being close to orgasm in the presence of Peter’s body.
Peter was enjoying Ryland’s impromptu worship. When he grinned cockily down at Ryland, even his jawline looked wider than before.
“Do you have a cup or a glass or something, little guy? I have to show you something,” he said, his voice rolling like thunder.
Ryland freed himself from Peter’s embrace and gave Peter the water glass from his bedside table. It looked much smaller in Peter’s mighty paws.
“Look what I learned to do this summer,” Peter growled. He pressed the lip of the glass against one of his thick, meaty nipples. Even by Peter standards they looked big. His areola was as wide as the diameter of the glass—was that what Peter wanted to show him?
Peter let out a little grunt and flexed his pec hard. The prodigious muscle mass contracted up, then released heavily—and audibly.
What is that sound? Ryland asked himself. He was suddenly aware of how sweaty his hands were. Are his pecs…churning?!
The glass rang softly as a stream of white liquid splashed into the bottom of the glass. Peter moaned and flexed again, harder, and even more milk shot from his chest. His other nipple was starting to leak, too, as if in anticipation.
“Fuck, Peter, that is so hot.”
“Drink it!” Peter ordered, passing him the glass. There were two fingers of milk in it now, a really big shot’s worth.
Slightly nervous, Ryland raised the glass and started to drink. Peter’s milk was sweet and left a tingling sensation on his lips and tongue when he swallowed.
“Just so you know, you might get really horny in the next couple of minutes. Man milk is a real aphrodisiac.”
“I think I can feel it already,” Ryland said, tugging on his hard-on. It looked a little bigger than usual.
“There might be some effects I don’t even know about yet.” Peter laughed and his whole body shook, making his pecs drip onto his 12-pack. Ryland counted again. 12 muscles, holy…
“Let me drink some more of your milk. Let’s see what it does!”
“Whoa! Not so fast, little buddy. Don’t you wanna explore the rest of the house first?”
He gave his package a slap, making it bounce mesmerizingly.
The base of Peter’s cock was already visible because of the monstrous weight of his package pulling his pants down. Ryland stepped back as Peter took off his shoes and pulled his pants down the rest of the way. He had gotten too big to even bend down properly—he had to use his hands to pull the waistband down a few inches, then shuffle his feet back and forth to get them the rest of the way off. Throughout this little performance, inch after inch of his manhood was swelling out of its former prison. The meaty anaconda looked even bigger free than it had clothed. It fell beyond his knees, just ahead of his low-hanging sack with its two basketball-sized orbs, one lower than the other. Ryland felt like he could actually hear the cum sloshing around.
Peter’s balls were as hairy as the rest of him. As Ryland turned his gaze to Peter’s enlarged cock for the first time, a shiver ran down his spine and he came without warning, a quick shot of cum spurting to the ground. Ryland began to shake; it was too much.
“What do you think? I think I became a real man over the summer!”
“Impossible,” Ryland whispered and watched the head of Peter’s cock hovering inches from the floor. Already it looked bigger than it had a few seconds ago…and Peter was a grower. This beast was still sleeping.
“Grab your tape. These muscles haven’t been measured in months. They’ve been waiting for you.”
Ryland didn’t need to be told twice; he was already halfway to the desk. He was so nervous that he fumbled the tape measure twice, unable to tear his eyes away from his prize, Peter’s magnificent cock.
“Hope you won’t be disappointed that I already know my weight. Weighed myself at my parents’ place this morning. They have a big scale for the farm animals, you know.” He paused for effect, letting the suspense build. “537 pounds. On an empty stomach.”
Ryland almost fainted. Peter had gained 199 pounds.
“I knew that it might be a little much to take in, hahaha.”
“Fuck, Peter, it’s just—you have so much power over me. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love it, but all you have to do is say the number and it’s almost enough for me to come again without even fucking touching myself!”
“I know, Ry. I try not to tease you with it too much. But I kind of love the way everything about me feels like it’s just a little too much sometimes. And I see how much you love it, too, so it’s nice to have someone to share it with.”
Peter bent down to Ryland and kissed him.
“And if you like numbers…there’s a lot more where that one came from. Let’s get going.”
Ryland took Peter’s outstretched hand and the measuring began.
“Forearms, 25 inches—wow, these bad boys are almost bigger than your biceps were the last time I saw you! What did you do this summer, Peter?”
“It’s amazing what hard work and good food can do. Let’s find out how tall I am. Doesn’t seem that much different.”
He was right. He now stood 7’2’’ tall—just two inches taller. It was still impressive, but he had grown a lot more in width than in height.
He lumbered slowly down to one knee. His massive cock was now resting on the ground, like the fattest anaconda on earth.
“This should be easier for you now,” he said with a wink. “Continue.”
Peter presented his massive guns. As he flexed them, they swelled to epic proportions.
“Biceps, 42 inches!” Ryland spread his fingers and tried to reach around the mountain rising in the middle of Peter’s upper arm. The monster was now bigger around than a basketball.
“42? Mm. Music to my ears.”
“Next: shoulders, 136 inches.”
“Oh, shit. These are some real man numbers now, huh?” Peter couldn’t stop laughing—his size was so astronomical it was blowing his mind as much as Ryland’s. He raised both arms so Ryland could measure his chest—it took a while. Ryland was really struggling with the tape. He was breathing heavily, and with Peter’s pits exposed the familiar musk was making it hard for Ryland to think.
“Chest, 122 inches.”
“I started a new chest workout and I think it’s really paying off nicely. Wait, before you go further down…could you measure these, too?”
He pointed at his erect nipples.
“Are they growing too?”
“Kind of—ever since I started making the milk.”
“Nipples: three quarters of an inch.”
Peter just smiled. He powered back up to his feet; his thighs bulging with the effort of hoisting his weight.
“Waist, 34 inches—your waistline hasn’t changed.”
“The weight is going to all the right places, huh?”
“Quads, 66 inches! Calves, 35 inches!”
“Yeah, if these hams get too much bigger, I’m gonna start having trouble walking. I’m gonna need help putting lotion on them every night now. They rub against each other all day when I walk. Oh, you haven’t seen the way I waddle now. It’s a hot mess! I love it.”
“I’ll see it every day now! And now…help me with the beast here,” Ryland said, kneading his roommate’s dick.
“Hope you’re ready for this. This is where I grew the most.”
Peter held the tape steady at the base of the insane elephant dong, right where his incredibly dense bush began, as Ryland pulled the measure down to where his cock head rested. A line of dribbling precum connected it to the floor, now just two inches away.
“Tell me my new size, Ry. Before I left it was how big? 16 inches soft? Damn, I was little back then.”
“What? Come on, tell me. How big can it be? It was 27 and a half inches hard back then, right?”
“Fuck, Peter, how did you get so big?!”
“Hey! Numbers! Is it over two feet soft already?”He was drooling a little onto his chest.
“You really have no clue how big you are anymore, do you? Fuck Peter, your soft cock is 38 inches long.”
“Fuck! That’s already over three feet! Three feet of fucking elephant cock! And it’s only gonna get bigger! That beast will be dragging on the ground by the end of next week!” A spasm went down his cock as he spoke. “Tell me how fat it is!”
“It’s double its old width. 10 inches!”
“Mmm, yeah, I really like to hear that.”
“I can tell,” said Ryland. “Wow, buddy, slow down!”
Peter’s hardening cock hit the ground with a wet thunk. The speed at which it was growing was hypnotic. Veins were growing on its surface as it became thicker, longer and longer every second, until it levitated itself off the ground again, rising higher and higher off the floor. Just as it reached a horizontal angle, it collided with the room’s only window, leaving wet stains as it smacked against the glass. Ryland was aghast. He put a hand on Peter’s mammoth cock and felt his heartbeat throbbing through it. Stepping back, Peter pushed his basketball-sized nuts behind him to give his cock more room to grow, resting them softly against the backside of his massive thighs.
“Getting hard has been throwing me off-balance for the last couple weeks. Moving them behind my hams helps me counterweight it.”
“For now, Peter! If this keeps up, soon there won’t be any balancing this beast! Every time I think you won’t be able to get any hotter, you prove that there’s no ceiling. You just keep on pushing the limits—bigger and bigger!”
A huge glob of cum hit the window. Peter let out a deep groan. “I wish I could grow even faster. Just a little more, you know. I know we have to get it under control soon, but for now I could get just a little bigger, right?”
Ryland started to measure Peter’s cock. Peter had to assist; his ballooning pecs prevented him from seeing much of what Ryland was doing.
Ryland pulled the tape measure further along the length of the pulsing whale cock. As he reached the end, the tape measure did too, creaking slightly.
“Okay, tell me the measurement that matters most!”
“You’ve outgrown my tape measure…almost. Exactly 60 inches—that’s 5 fucking feet! This thing is gonna be bigger than me in no time! You’ve outdone yourself, Peter!”
But the only word Peter heard was “almost.”
His face grew red as he flexed every muscle in his body at once. He pressed his hands into his hips, straining until he started to shake from the effort.
“Peter? What are you doing?”
“Almost? Almost? I’ve gotta…” He pressed the words out through clenched teeth.
Suddenly Ryland looked down and realized what was happening. Peter was trying to outgrow the end of Ryland’s tape measure. “Almost” wasn’t enough for him anymore. In astonishment, Ryland realized that Peter’s cock was thickening all over as he flexed all of his body at once—and then it actually began to get longer. One inch. Then two.
“Fuck, Peter! You did it! You made yourself grow!”
Peter stopped flexing and immediately collapsed to his knees, out of breath, his humongous cock crashing into the ground. 62 inches long now.
Sweating like a pig, all of his muscles pumped, his skin red, his hair damp and clinging to his face, Peter gasped, “Seems like I’ve learned a new trick.”
Life with hyper Peter—as Ryland had started calling him—was bliss for both of them. Ryland had never cum so much in his life, and Peter didn’t have to do much to set him off—just a quick flex was enough to start the show. More and more often, Peter was taking advantage of everyone else’s indifference to tease Ryland with his massive body in public. It hadn’t taken him long to become a living oxymoron—Ryland couldn’t get over the fact that he was living with a 500-plus-pound stud whose size no one else could appreciate, even though he was the biggest man in the tri-state area.
In his newly enhanced state, Peter didn’t have a lot of clothing options left. They tried ordering custom garments, but they were insanely expensive and took days or sometimes weeks to create and ship. Peter made the best of it, putting the world’s obliviousness to work for him. Around the dorm he mostly wore jockstraps, size XXL, one ball in the pouch and the other hanging out, with his cock sprouting out of the top and arcing several feet in front of him before curving heavily toward the floor. He completed the look with a pair of white socks. That was the full extent of his wardrobe on days where he didn’t have to leave the building—he would even walk through the halls like that, his manhood swinging in full view, nobody noticing it but Peter and Ryland.
Sometimes Ryland would see Peter in the hallway, talking to other guys from the football team, and his cock would actually be brushing against their thighs as it swayed back and forth. Even then, they didn’t react.
When he had class, it was time for Peter to put on what was left of his shirts and pants. He didn’t bother zipping anything up since there was no hope of getting the two halves of any zipper together anymore. He just let everything hang as it was. Sometimes, to spice things up, he would dress his cock upward, under his too-tight shirt and nestling between his pecs, but none of his shirts could withstand a hard-on anymore. Ryland watched Peter get hard in class once, from a few rows behind. His five-foot cock grew right out of his collar, pressed Peter’s head to the side a little, and ended a few inches over his head.
Ryland texted him, “Looking real big today, big guy.”
“Fuck, I’ve never been this hard in my life. Why now? Meet me in the bathroom in 10”
But Ryland knew why. They had made the mistake of not fucking that morning, and his gigantic body needed release.
They both got up every morning around seven. Sometimes they woke up naturally. Sometimes they woke because Peter’s massive muscle gut was roaring for a king-sized breakfast. Sometimes they woke because Peter had rolled over one too many times and crushed Ryland under his massive frame. And sometimes they woke because they hadn’t found the time to milk Peter the evening before and he had started to leak heavily by sunrise. Those mornings were especially exciting. Peter actually had the feeling that Ryland sometimes purposely avoided milking him at night for that reason—but he didn’t mind; he actually enjoyed waking up full and ready.
On those days, Peter’s eyes would open first. His mammoth five-foot cock would already be pulsing up and down on the swollen muscle pillows of his chest. By then the head of his cock had already been leaking for a while and his torso was already smothered in precum; some had already even gotten on Ryland, who was usually lying between his midsection and his arm. Carefully, Peter tried to push himself up to a sitting position, but he always had trouble doing so. His head was trapped and engulfed by muscles, which made it hard to see what he was doing. He practically had no neck anymore, and when he looked down these days, the beard he’d grown overnight would already be brushing his constantly-swelling pectoral muscles.
Ryland had been milking him regularly for the two weeks they’d been back. A few things had changed in those 14 days.
1. Peter’s body was becoming more and more sensitive to Ryland’s touch. A little flick to his full nipple was enough to make his cock tear right through whatever pants he was wearing.
2. The more regularly they milked Peter to release the pressure from his system, the more regularly they had to milk him. It was a downward spiral they found they both enjoyed.
3. Due to the heavy milking sessions, Peter’s chest and especially his nipples were sore a lot of the time—but in a good way, because then Ryland had to apply lotion, and often as not that ended up turning into another milking session.
4. Peter’s nipples had done some growing since they’d started handling him like a true muscle bull. When he was completely full and ready to go, his nipples could get to almost an inch and a half long, and as thick as a soda bottle cap.
5. Peter’s milk was the strongest aphrodisiac known to man, and every milking session ended with Ryland pounding Peter, his personal muscle mountain, until they both came. In those moments they both felt like two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together perfectly—it was a symbiosis that nobody wanted to change.
6. Ryland had started to grow. They didn’t know if it was the cum Peter was shooting down his throat almost every day now—sometimes twice—or the half a gallon a day he got from Peter’s chest, but it didn’t matter since they had no intention of giving up either. Ryland was already up to 180 pounds of lean muscle, including the taut muscle gut he’d gotten from drinking all of Peter’s round-the-clock offerings. And, unlike with Peter, people actually seemed to notice the difference—he was catching a lot of attention around the dorm as his shirts started to ride up his tight belly.
7. His endowment had developed nicely too. His good-looking six-incher had gained almost two inches seemingly in no time. It had also gotten disproportionately thick, which Peter loved. His hungry bottom needed the bigger size desperately, and Ryland was happy to give him all he had.
8. Because other people could actually see the way Ryland was changing, he enjoyed the compliments he was getting on his bigger body, even when they took the form of negative comments about his swelling muscle belly. He still enjoyed the attention. The comments, the tighter clothes, the bulge in his jeans—it all reminded him of the connection he had to Peter.
This morning, Peter’s hands searched for his nipples, but it took him a while to find them because he’d gained so much mass the night before. He was up to 588 pounds now.
It would be his last growth spurt for a long while, they’d decided.
The day before, entering their shrinking dorm room, Peter had damaged the door frame to a dangerous degree just by walking through it. A guy from facilities summoned to survey the damage had wondered what could have caused so much destruction. In the end they decided there must have been a structural weakness in the wall that had made the doorframe collapse. The doorway was beyond repair, so they widened it and reinforced the frame to make it stronger—luckily for Peter.
Peter sat there watching them work, a mountain of muscle that no one acknowledged. He was slightly aroused by having just destroyed a doorway, but he also understood what it meant. He was outgrowing his room dangerously fast.
Which was how they came up with the plan to finally make use of Ryland’s magic hands. Now, whenever Peter felt the growth urge rising in his body, he had to get to Ryland as fast as possible.
Peter hadn’t grown at all for four days now, but he felt the signs of an attack coming on this morning. He woke Ryland up.
“It’s time again.”
Still sleepy, Ryland mumbled, “They’re sure coming more often now. Something must really be going on inside of you.”
He placed his relatively small hand on Peter’s brick-wall-like 12-pack, and immediately Peter felt the churning in his core calming until it disappeared.
“Thanks, man—again. While you’re up—think you could you help me with something else here?”
Peter was still leaning against the wall behind their bed. He flexed his pillow-sized pecs a few times as a hint.
“Are they full again, too? You’re spoiling me, big guy.”
Still half-asleep, Ryland clambered onto Peter’s mid-section and used his fingers to squeeze Peter’s nipples hard. A loud “Uhhh!” flew from the big man’s mouth, and he started to leak again. With practiced deftness, Ryland put his mouth over one of his friend’s big nipples and started sucking. As every morning, he was surprised how warm and sweet the milk from Peter was…and how much of it there was, day after day. As Ryland’s belly started to fill, his cock began to harden, drawing Peter’s attention as it pressed against the underside of his distended chest muscles. He searched it with his big paws, flying blind until he grunted in surprise as he found it.
“Jesus, your meat is getting heftier every day, Ry.”
“Look who’s talking,” his friend answered, pulling his mouth away from the swollen nipple just long enough to talk. He gave Peter’s hovering monster cock a sideways glance before he went back to milking.
“At least mine hasn’t grown for days! Mmmm…you’re getting better and better at this. I think it’s time to switch,” he added, noticing that the swallowing sounds from Ryland’s throat had quieted.
He was right. Even after the right side had run dry, Ryland had kept sucking for his own pleasure. As he switched over, he could actually see the difference between the empty and the full halves of his chest. Both looked thick and grabbable, but the full one was more swollen and tighter than the other one. The areola was bigger, the tip pointing more forward than down, with a tiny, inviting vein pulsing around the nipple. Ryland played along it with his tongue, and the second side was empty in no time as Peter loudly moaned his approval. It felt like a continuous little orgasm that started in his chest before spreading slowly through every inch of his hugely thick body.
Ryland looked up as he finished drinking.
“Now look at that gut!” Peter said.
Ryland looked as though he’d swallowed a basketball; the muscles of his midsection were still clearly visible, but there was no hiding his newly developed ball belly. Peter gave Ryland’s brown treasure trail a little flick.
“Oof! I feel so heavy!” Ryland stumbled away from the bed, the milk in his gut sloshing around as his exposed hard-on bobbed up and down. It looked like it had grown past 8 inches already. Peter was drooling at the sight. He’d been growing his boy really nicely the last few days, and he wasn’t sure which of them was enjoying it more.
To their amazement, the new routine of maintaining Peter at his current level worked surprisingly well. Peter had been worried that keeping his size would be an impossible task if Ryland couldn’t be around him all the time. But the campus was small, and if he needed him a quick text was all it took to bring Ryland to his side within a couple minutes.
They liked to meet in the cafeteria where Ryland could discreetly wrap his hand around Peter’s strong arms, and in the library where he could brush his fingertips against his, and on the practice field where he could grab the base of his exposed shaft. They started arranging little trysts every day, even when Peter couldn’t sense a new wave rolling closer.
It got even easier after Ryland started playing football too. Before, he’d been interested in the sport but had never had the body—but once he got up to 195 pounds, the coach asked him why he was just standing on the sidelines watching Peter struggle when he could be participating.
“Sure, I can try it.”
After proving his potential in a little scrimmage, the coach gave him his very own uniform—helmet, jersey, and all.
“You’re also gonna need a little protection down there,” the coach said absently. Giving Ryland’s bulge a lingering glance, he added, “Maybe something a little bigger, am I right?”
“Right,” Ryland answered, blushing. Was it already that obvious?
Back in the locker room, trying everything on for the first time, he had his answer: it really was that obvious. Unlike Peter, Ryland was a shower, not a grower. When he started playing football, his cock was already 8 and a half inches long and fully as thick as a can of soda—at its smallest. The outfit would be able to handle another inch or two, but nothing beyond that. And unlike Peter, he couldn’t hide it. Everyone was able to see his gains, and more importantly, they were already paying attention.
“So maybe we might have to find another way to milk you soon,” Ryland said one evening, lying with his arms around Peter’s majestic hard cock as he nuzzled it softly.
“But I like it when you milk me with your mouth, little guy,” he growled, suddenly very sad. “Well…even if you’re not that little anymore.”
To prove his point, Ryland raised one of his 18-inch guns and flexed them for him.
“That’s my boy!” Peter said dreamily, his head almost disappearing into his mountainous muscles as he lay back on the bed. “How about one last round?” He shimmyed his chest a little, demonstrating that he was full to the brim again.
“Damn, I don’t know if I’ll be able to say no to this ever.”
He climbed his big bro’s chest and began to drink again.
Not long after Ryland started playing football, Peter quit the team. Football just wasn’t his sport anymore—he was simply too big and heavy to maneuver on the field quickly enough. The coach had been constantly complaining about his falling speed, unable to see how much the big man was still developing.
Peter wasn’t mad about it—he got a kick out of knowing he was too big and strong for football. He’d been wanting to try out the school’s other offerings for a long time anyway. He talked to the baseball coach—his batting arm was the biggest in the world for sure, but he realized he would have the same running speed issues. Not to mention the tight outfits those guys had to wear.
In the end he decided to give wrestling a chance. He tried his 4XL singlet on for the first time one night in their dorm room.
“What do you think?”
“I mean, I don’t know if I could ever watch you wrestle in that thing. It’s just too hot.”
“Sure, but the others won’t see what you see!”
Gleefully, he started to dance, shaking his whole body, his basketball-sized balls slapping his thighs and almost exploding out of his pouch, his cock lodged between his juicy, hairy pecs and twitching slightly. His package was big enough to pull his cleavage down to his pubes.
“Turn around for me, Peter.”
Peter turned. The singlet was too small around his ass, cutting deep into the valley between his meaty spheres, separating and emphasizing them even more.
“Holy shit…” Ryland began to drool, his hard-on pressing against his hip bone. “Take that thing off and get over here.”
It turned out that wrestling was a great fit for Peter. His opponents went to the boards in no time, and they always wondered why they had so much trouble getting up again when Peter was pinning them. If they could have seen the enormous mass of Peter’s full balls and monster dick covering their entire backs, the games would probably have ended differently.
In one game, Peter came close to being totally exposed. He was paired against the biggest opponent he’d ever encountered—still hundreds of pounds below Peter’s actual weight, but thick and heavily muscled. The two wrestlers kept close to the ground for the whole 40-second fight. Peter could feel his opponent’s hands as they searched for leverage. What they found, without realizing it, was Peter’s hardening cock, which was always chubbing up in his most intense matches. The guy caught his cock in a firm grip and Peter had to restrain himself from groaning in pleasure. He had to turn the match around quickly before things got dire. As the other wrestler swung his thick quads around Peter’s midsection, he turned Peter’s singlet, and suddenly Peter’s ballsack was free and slapping the mat with a loud smack.
“Holy shit,” Ryland whispered from his seat in the stands. Nobody had noticed.
They twisted and turned, and before long Peter’s cock was also free—all 62 inches of it. Every time his opponent squeezed his legs together, a stream of pre oozed from Peter’s shaft. One strap of his singlet ripped. He was seconds away from his entire body being on display.
You have to win—now! Ryland thought.
Luckily, Peter’s expanding monster cock had begun to bury the wrestler below him, and didn’t have to add much force to finally win the match. The sound of the whistle ended the bout.
They shook hands and Peter heard the other guy say, “Close one! Incredible technique.”
Peter wasn’t sure to what extent the wrestler actually realized what had happened. Could he actually have come that close to his body without knowing what he was touching? In the end, the only clue Peter had that the other guy might have suspected something was the fact that he had a raging hard-on, too.
While he was enjoying his new sport, Peter also had to learn that sadly he couldn’t eat everything he wanted when he wasn’t growing in spurts like he used to.
Two months after he stopped sprinting in football practice, he had jumped from his lean weight of 588 pounds to a whopping 641—they could only guess at his body fat percentage but it looked like he had ballooned from a nicely defined 7% to a bulging 22%—he looked so much bigger in his off-season mode that he and Ryland were actually scared they might have missed a growth spurt. But Ryland figured out what the problem was when he saw the fat, rich meals Peter was constantly stuffing himself with.
“Looks like the freshman 15 finally caught up with you, muscle bull!”
“Tell that to your cock, stallion,” Peter joked, stuffing another triple cheeseburger into his maw in just two bites. “Mmm, so good…but I know. I know I have to cut back a little. Back to the gym tomorrow.”
As they enjoyed their last night of Peter’s off-season physique, Ryland actually thought about asking Peter to keep the weight. He enjoyed the massive projections of his bloated chest and the extraordinary width of his softer shoulders, and even the slight love handles he had grown around his bulging roid gut. But Peter wanted to lose a few pounds again, and so he accepted it.
Peter was a man of his word, and over the next few weeks he steadily trimmed most of the new weight. But when he got down around 600 pounds, Ryland screwed up his courage and asked him to stop cutting.
“Your pecs just look so much juicier with a little padding.”
“Oh, you like them bigger?”
“Come on, you know the answer to that.”
In order to show his gratitude for Peter, Ryland milked him thoroughly with his mouth again. “One last time,” he always said, even though they both knew it wouldn’t be. Ryland couldn’t get enough of Peter’s muscle milk, even though the consequences of the feedings were becoming more and more apparent.
One afternoon, as they were sharing some quality time together in the dorm, Ryland was lying on top of his gigantic friend when a tearing sound made them both look up.
“What was that?” Peter asked. His head was dwarfed by the mass of his traps. “I haven’t grown, have I?”
“Nope, that was me,” Ryland said, sighing. He got back to his feet and they both saw what the problem was. He had gotten hard, and his cock had torn through the center seam of his pants. The third pair that week.
“We should have stopped doing this a week ago,” Ryland said.
“Hey! I wanted to try out the breast pump thing you bought. You kept sucking me dry, bro!”
“All right, all right. It’s just…fuck, look at this thing! I would have never thought I would have a cock like this myself one day!”
He grabbed his 11-and-a-half-inch hard-on and slapped it against his other hand. The sound was like the crack of a whip. Peter could already feel his ass twitching slightly. Ryland was now 220 pounds of solid muscle, with a big gut that grew every time he milked him, and with every pound he gained Peter fell more and more in love with him.
“What do the guys on the team say?” Ever since he’d dropped football, Peter was seeing his former teammates way less often.
“They’re basically losing their minds over how big I’m getting. They keep asking me what I’m on.”
“And what do you say?” Peter smirked.
“I tell them I suck my boyfriend’s muscle tits dry every morning and every night, sometimes with a little cum for good measure.” They both laughed. “Nah, I just tell them I’m juicing.”
“And they believe it?”
Ryland paused to think. “I think they want to believe it.”
“What do you mean?”
“They ask me if I’ll share with them. Not as a group, but one after the other they keep coming to me and asking if I can make them huge, too. It’s weird to see all these muscle heads kinda shy all of a sudden. A couple of them even asked if they could hold my cock for a few seconds, to feel the weight of it. The more time I spend with them, the more fascinated they are with how big I’m getting—they get more curious every day. Lately I’ve even caught one or two of them jerking off, watching me. They’re obsessed!”
Jesse was the star player of the current lineup. He was big but not bulky, with dark skin, strong eyebrows, a chiseled jawline and a perfect smile. Before Peter had joined the ranks, he’d also been known as the stallion of the team. Ryland thought it was fascinating that someone like Jesse, who was already blessed with perfect genetics, could still dream of having more—way more—and be so open about it.
“I think he’s as into it as we are…I have a feeling he’s been fantasizing about it ever since he noticed I was growing right in front of his eyes.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve known Jesse a long time. The way he looks at himself in the mirror, the amount of time he puts in at the gym—not to mention all the shit he’s been injecting the last year or two. By the way, Ry, can you give me a hand? Another growth spurt has been coming for a little while.”
Casually, Ryland put his hand on his giant friend and the tension in Peter’s body immediately relaxed.
“No prob. So, what do you say? Should we do it? Should we grow our football team into a squad of hyper-dicked muscle freaks?”
Peter giggled, setting the whole room shaking. “Do we have a choice? They’re basically crying out for help! Hell, I wanna see Jesse trip over his own horse cock!”
“I don’t think it would take much for that to happen.”
“Then let’s do it.”
From then on, they pumped Peter’s pecs empty every morning and every evening. The mechanical pump worked almost as well as Ryland’s mouth. They stored the milk in a small water tank that Peter carried to the field the next day. It was hard work, but the thought of his juice growing an entire team of football stars spurred him onward.
“What is this?” one of the players wanted to know when he saw the tank.
Ryland lowered his voice. “You asked me about my secret a few days ago,” he said, grabbing his fat bulge and looking around the room. “I’m just here to help. Don’t tell Coach. This can stay between us, right?” He knocked on the top of the milk tank and winked.
The players exchanged looks. Then someone grabbed a cup, and the others followed in seconds.
“Mmm, this actually tastes decent!”
“Yeah, what’s that flavor?”
Ryland had to smile. “Just plain milk, I’d say.”
“It’s delicious,” Jesse said, licking his full lips. He came closer to Ryland and whispered in his ear, “Thanks for sharing it with us. It means a lot to me. If you ever need anything, you know, just hit me up. And keep the milk coming.”
The milk became a team ritual in no time. Peter carried a new tank to the field every day and watched the guys’ progress from the sidelines, a cocky smile on his lips.
Ryland left practice for a few minutes to join him. A few months ago the situation had been the other way around, they both realized with a smile.
“How’s the team doing?”
Ryland wiped his sweat away. “Amazing. They just enjoy your milk so much! They can hardly wait for practice to end.”
“Some of them already seem bigger, don’t they?”
“Hell, yeah. Brian is already 15 pounds heavier, Jeremy 8 or 10 pounds … and you should see Jesse’s massive balls! They’re already as big as tennis balls!”
“And his cock? Stallion level?”
“Hanging lower every day! And he’s so damn cocky about it! Forget us—I think he’s the real stud around here.”
They turned to the field and watched the guys play for a few minutes. Some of their bulges were already obscene, and more than one of them would be needing a bigger uniform within a few days.
Ryland discovered another side effect of their little experiment about a month later. He was enjoying a shower in the locker room, his hands resting on the wall, his cock hanging low and heavy as the water rolled down his back. He daydreamed about Peter and his full chest, of his teammates who were swelling bigger with every passing day. How big would they get?
“Hey Ry, do you mind if I join?”
Jesse was right behind him. The 275-pound quarterback was naked, his brown skin shining almost bluish in the warm light of the bathroom.
“Hey Jesse, what—” he stopped short as his eyes landed on the length of Jesse’s manhood.
“Yeah, get a good look at this beast. I’ve been enjoying your milk more than anyone.”
“Holy shit, Jesse, you’re outgrowing horses now.”
“Looks good, doesn’t it? A few of the guys stopped partaking so I started drinking their share. Guess they thought they were big enough. But I think growing feels so good!”
“I can see that.”
Jesse’s monster cock was cut and hung down to his knees. It was covered in thick veins, as if keeping blood flowing to a beast like that was hard work. In his sack churned two orange-sized balls.
“18 and a half inches now. You changed my life, bro. The least I can do is help you with that.”
Without another word, Jesse dropped to his knees, opened wide, and started sucking on Ryland’s cock.
“Fuck, Jesse, I didn’t know you liked me!”
“I’m craving some real size, what else can I say.”
“Fuck, you’re good!”
“It gets easier once you can practice on your own dick.”
“Mmm, yeah, put it all in,” Ryland said, even though he knew there was no chance Jesse could take it. But it didn’t stop him trying.
“Fuck, we’re all getting so biiig,” Ryland moaned, leaning against the warm shower wall now. “Some of the other guys are over 300 pounds already. Huge-dicked studs everywhere you look! And you! Getting so fucking hung!”
“Tell me I’m the biggest stud you know.”
Ryland couldn’t answer truthfully. There would always be someone bigger than Jesse in his life. Which was why he just ended up saying, “You’re a fucking stallion! Fuck—fuck, I’m coming!”
In a dozen heavy spurts, he covered Jesse’s face in no time. And then Jesse was gone, as fast as he’d arrived.
Ryland was still drying his hair when he got back to his locker. He took fresh boxer briefs out of his bag and stuffed his foot-long manhood into them (yes, he’d been drinking a little more). As he put his pants and a sleeveless shirt on, he found his phone.
17 unread messages from Peter.