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You and I Series

You and I: The hotel room

By Also Known As

Description In this tale of dual perspectives, when you seek out a man with godlike powers and a yearning to transform others (having already made himself the strongest and most beautiful man alive), you should expect your own agenda to be quickly forgotten. The only question is: will you become your fantasies—or his?

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AddedJuly 2016
Updated6 Jul 2016
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2 Parts tap bar to showtap bar to hide

Part 1

I approach the door to your room, wondering at my own bravery or cowardice about accepting this invitation, but your picture was too unbelievable to ignore. Did a real man—or a real human being—look like that? Was anyone that beautiful?

Curiosity, then, lead me here. You said you had seen me in the bar, and you wanted to meet me. You wanted us to meet. I was unsure about all of this, the text message from someone I had never met (how had you even gotten my number in the first place?) the promises of experiences beyond my wildest fantasies, and then that picture of Your body! I figured you must have been spending some serious time at the gym—or in front of a computer Photoshopping the living hell out of that image.

I usually had a strict rule about seeing someone’s face, but with a body like that, I made an exception. You looked flawless in that small image on my phone screen. I kept pinching and zooming in to look for seams in the image, or pixelated parts where you hadn’t been careful with his editing but I couldn’t find any.

If that was a real picture of a real guy, I had to see this in person. Even if nothing else happened, I wanted to look at this guy’s amazing physique and ask him how he’d accomplished such mind-blowing perfection of size and balance!

I lifted my hand to rap on the door when I heard a voice—absurdly deep, with a timbre that made somehow made my balls seem to tingle and the hairs on my arms stand on end—say “It’s open.” I put my hand on the knob and turned.

You were sitting in a chair at the far end of the room. There was a large, king-sized bed to the right and the room was bright. The curtains were open in front of you, spilling sunlight everywhere and casting your body into silhouette, making it hard for me to see you, initially.

Your back was to me, but already I realized that if nothing else, that image you had sent was not lying about your size. Even from across the room, it was clear that you were a huge—or beyond huge—individual.

Huge in every way, as well. As my eyes adjusted I could see your back, swollen with distinct muscles, spread a yard wide. You were sitting with the chair backwards, so that you were fully exposed to me as I suddenly realized you were naked.

You shifted slightly, jutting your butt out, and I think I even gasped. The spit left my mouth and my eyes probably grew two sizes larger.

That butt. It was…awesome. Amazing. Indescribable. I could not move, as if you had mesmerized me with your beautiful, perfect ass. In that moment, I wanted nothing more in the entire world than to worship you.

“You know who I am,” you said.

Of course! Of course I did! Why hadn’t I realized when I looked at your image? You were…the one! That guy! Who else would be that huge, that broad, that impossibly and improbably built? I knew who you were, and now I wondered why I had been the lucky one to be summoned int your godlike presence.

Then you spoke again, spoke in that voice that felt like sex, and you said, “I’m going to turn around.” My heart flipped in my chest and I tried to swallow. I could not move, I could not breathe.

I was going to be given the privilege of seeing you in person. Of being near you. “Yeah,” I managed to answer, a single syllable.

You turned your head slightly, so that I could almost see your face. Your handsome face. Your beautiful face. Your godlike face. “Are you gonna be okay?”

I was again shocked at the sound of your voice. It made me want to come. My dick was already swelling with heat and size. “What?”

You turned away again, perhaps understanding the impact the mere hint of your beauty was having on my body. “Are you gonna be okay? If I turn around?”

God, I wanted to look at you. There was now nothing more I wanted than that, to be able to look at you there, across the room. “Yeah.”

You stood up.

And up.

And up.

I knew who you were and I knew you were the most beautiful and powerful man on the planet, but your size was still shocking to me. My brain was spinning, or was it the room? My legs felt weak and I could not seem to catch my breath. “I’m going to turn around now,” you said. God, your voice. The power! “I should warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“Yes.”

You began to turn towards me, to reveal yourself to me, to allow my eyes to look upon your superhuman perfection. My heart was beating very fast and the world seemed to slow its pace as you turned your naked body and your handsome face towards me.

All at once, like lightning, I realized that any former description of you, any fantasy or dream that someone had of you, that I had about you, could not dare to touch the reality of you. My god. My god. Stars erupted in my eyes as I tried to look at you. My dick plumped with a suddenness I had never experienced, as if you had reached across the room and touched me there, at the core of my lust and desire, and pulled come from my balls to splatter and splash inside my pants.

Darkness enveloped me, but you seemed to glow. Your majesty and perfection was all I could see. Did you smile?

Did you smile for me?

I could not see for the beauty of you. You had blinded me to anything and everything else. So much power, so much strength. The lines of your perfect body, swollen with perfect muscle. Your arms, your chest, your stomach, your legs. Were you glowing? Was your strength so powerful that it emanated from you? Was your beauty so total that your mere physical presence could not contain it? You seemed to expand to fill the entire room. My eyes danced across the beauty of you, every inch of you, every millimeter. Naked before me.

And your face.

Your godlike face.

Perfection.


I was swimming in warm water. I was with someone, someone I couldn’t quite see or touch. But I knew who they were. I knew it was you, there in my dream with me, a man too perfect to look upon, a man possessed of such power and strength that being near you was like being near a lodestone that drew me towards you. Irresistible and undeniable.

I wanted to hear you speak, again. I wanted to experience that sensation of having some part of you inside me, doing things to me with your power, to hear your voice in my head and feel its power tug on my cock and lick my balls.

“Wake up.”

I was pulled from the warm water back into your room. I was on the bed, now, but I didn’t know how I had gotten there, or what had happened.

“You can look at me without fainting.”

That voice. Your voice. The power and beauty of it! I doubted that those words were true but I wanted to look at you. My god, I wanted it so badly. That was all I wanted to do, because the reality of your perfection was stronger than my memory of it. I forced my eyes open to look at you again.

You were there, over me, looking at me. I nearly came again. How was it possible that such a man existed? But of course you did exist, because there you were. All I had to do was reach my hand forward to touch you and prove the reality of you, the impossible reality of your perfection.

“Your eyes are blue,” you said. “Bright blue, like the sky.” Were they? Of course they were! People often remarked on my eyes, wondering at their unnatural color. I nodded slightly, tongue-tied by your handsome face. “You are naked like me,” you said. Yes. Naked. I want to be naked with you. “We are always naked, because everyone expects it. No one wishes us to hide our perfection. Not a single inch of it.”

My perfection. It could not match his, of course, but I was proud of the way I looked, and the way others reacted to me. No one objected to my state of constant nudity, at my exposed cock and balls, at my bare ass, because I was beautiful. Like a work of art made flesh. Like a beautiful statue carved by an Italian master.

Even so, I could not compare to him. No matter how beautiful I was, he was perfect.

“How much do you weigh?” you asked me. I opened my mouth, almost embarrassed to report my weight to you, because you were so massive and so powerful, but I told you because you asked me.

You smiled, then, repeating my weight back to me. “You weigh two hundred and seventy-five pounds.” Yes, I was very big by most standards. “Nearly all of it is muscle.” I loved my body. I loved its muscle. I could feel it now, its weight and hardness and strength, feel it along my arms and legs. “You have 8% body fat.” I was proud that I had worked so hard to achieve this level of development. I had won contests. I was stronger than anyone I knew—except for you. No one was as strong as you.

“How tall are you?” I told you to the inch. You smiled (almost causing me to come again) and nodded. “You’re six feet nine inches tall.” You said. I usually towered over everyone I met. I entered a room head and shoulders above everyone else. I loved being tall and powerful. I wanted more. “Do you like being that tall?”

“I… I wish I was taller.”

“Six ten?”

“Even taller,” I admitted. I could deny you nothing. “Seven feet tall.”

“You are seven feet tall,” you said. Something shifted or snapped. God, I loved being this gigantic muscular god. I loved being naked all the time. I loved to show off my power and my beauty. Your lips were moving again. I loved watching you speak. I loved hearing your voice. “And you weigh…”

“Three hundred pounds,” I said. I had been so proud—so excited!—when I finally surpassed that milestone. Seven feet tall and three hundred pounds, but still an insignificant insect in the presence of this god of might and beauty.

“Yes. You do. You weigh three hundred pounds.” You moved your hand to my head and brushed back some stray hair, looking intently into my bright blue eyes. “Your face,” you said. “Have you always been so handsome?”

My heart swelled with love and happiness. I could hardly believe the words you were saying to me. “Am I?”

“Yes,” you repeated, “you are.” My dick, proudly exposed in its glory for all to see, began to throb and swell with pride and love. I wanted your approval. I wanted your attention. And now you were complimenting me—me!—when your own physical perfection was unsurpassed. “The way your blue eyes are set off by the short, jet black hair on your head. Your strong, squared jawline gives you such a masculine demeanor. And I like the way you maintain that shadow of stubble, the way it enhances your intense beauty.”

I blushed. “I always thought I had large ears,” I said, because it was quite true. I remembered looking at my handsome face in mirrors and scowling at those ears.

“No,” you said, “they’re beautiful. They stick out slightly,” you agreed, “but that gives me something to hold on to when you’re sucking my cock.”

At the mention of it, the mention of your beautiful and magnificent prick, my own pulsed and swelled with recognition and desire. My god, I loved your cock, and I loved to feel it swelling and hot inside my mouth as I sucked you with earnest lust. I loved it in my hand, to stroke it and squeeze it and marvel at its beauty and masculine power.

“You love to suck cock,” you said matter-of-factly, because it was true. It was undeniable. I loved to suck cock! “You’re an expert. It’s as if you were born to do it, the way we fit together. I’m often amazed at the ease with which you can accommodate me all the way to the root of my cock. Every foot of me.” Every foot. Your massive, amazing cock! “And then when I come, when my magic balls finally pump the thick, hot flood of cream I can produce in endless supply, you swallow every drop.”

Now I wanted him very badly. My whole body heated up with desire. My muscles, mighty and powerful, flexed and tensed. I moved to sit up on the bed to gaze upon it, the object of my sudden, unquenchable desire. It was true, I had some marvelous innate talent for blowing other guys. There was nothing I enjoyed more than sucking on cock. As I walked this world in my naked glory, as I met men of every variety, I would suck their cocks and they would come inside my mouth and gasp and scream and shout because no one—no one on the entire planet—was as good as I was.

But no one’s cock could possibly compare to yours. And no one could deliver the massive loads of hot cream for me to guzzle like you could. I was insatiable for your come. I wanted to suck your dick until you started blasting fat ropes of salty, delicious spunk down my throat.

“Every drop,” you said. “No matter how much we do it, or how much I come, you can take it all.”

“I can,” I agreed proudly, anxiously. My hands curled into fists to stop myself from reaching forward and taking your cock without your permission. I looked down at it and could imagine its taste—your taste—your musky, masculine essence inside my mouth. “How big is it?” I asked.

“Sixteen inches long,” you said. “Thicker than any other man’s cock in the world.”

I knew it to be true. “Sixteen…” I watched your cock swell.

“Soft,” you added needlessly. Because of course when you became hard, when your majestic and impossible and beautiful cock finally revealed itself, you were feet long. “But when I am aroused—particularly by you, because we are lovers and you are my perfect match—I grow inches longer. Inches thicker.”

“Inches,” I repeated, remembering the sensation of swallowing your monster with ease and lust, and the feeling of your hard heat inside me.

“And you swallow every inch.” You placed your warm hand against my broad, naked chest, rubbing your thumb against my nipple. “You’ve always told me that your nipples are very sensitive.” Sudden hard thunderous eruptions of pure sex emanated now from your touch and rumbled throughout my entire muscular form, zeroing in on my dick and sending erotic pulses of heavy sexual power into it.

“Yes,” I whispered. “They are.” I could almost not withstand this attention. You continued to play with one nipple—just one—but the sensational eruptions of sexual bliss continued to rock my naked form.

“Probably because your chest is so large.”

I looked down where you were rubbing my nipple to look at my massive pecs. “It is.” Some had said my chest was outsized, that it was so massive that it looked ludicrous on my body, but I wanted it that way. I wanted a huge chest—two massive globes of powerful muscle, like bands of steel under my skin—because you wanted me that way. You began to describe my chest, and I swelled with pride that I could please you. My chest was a swollen mass of muscle, gifted with two intensely sensitive nipples nestled among the manly fur.

“I can make you come if I play with your nipples.” I swooned and closed my eyes, feeling a sudden urge to pump a fat fountain of cream all over my chest. I could feel my prick swell and lengthen. “Your twelve-inch cock,” you said.

Was it twelve? Did I own a foot-long length of meat? That didn’t seem right. I would remember something like that. “Twelve…?”

“No,” you corrected. “Your fourteen-inch cock.”

Yes. That was what I owned. That was what swelled up from between my thickly muscled thighs. A fourteen-inch prick, that I showed off with pride as I wandered the world in naked, unashamed glory. My fourteen-inch cock that was even now plumping and pushing as you continued to twist and rub and pinch my nipple.

“I want to suck your cock,” I told you, because I did. I always did. It was all I ever dreamed of, and all I ever wanted. I was the world’s champion cocksucker, and you owned the world’s champion cock.

“I understand,” you said, and I was bathed in your approval, “but first I want you to stand up.”

I agreed and moved to obey, wanting nothing more than to please you, my god of sex and power. My body felt very heavy, but strong. I remembered that I was seven feet tall and weighed three hundred pounds, all of it muscle, with my heavy, massive chest and my fourteen-inch cock. I leaned up and stood on my feet before you, in awe of your massive size and incomparable beauty. I nearly came again, being this close to you, and felt pride and lust surge inside me as you looked at me.

“Eight-pack abs,” you said. Yes. I owned an eight-pack, in perfect rows on my belly. My cock swelled and a sizzle of pre erupted up its length and poured forth from me in sheer joy at your attentions. “Turn around, please,” you asked, and I moved to obey, overwhelmed with bliss at my ability to please you.

I could practically feel your gaze upon my naked body. I could feel it move across my back and down and zero in on my butt, like you were pouring warm water on my skin. “Your ass is beautiful,” you said, and I felt chills of joy at the sound of your voice.

You touched me, then, and my cock plumped up even harder, if that’s possible. You cupped your wide, strong hands against the meat of my ass and said, “Your ass is round and thick and hard. Your ass may be the only thing on your body as large as your chest.”

I thought of all the work I had done, the thousands of squats and the tonnage of weight that I used to push mass into my butt. I knew that it was huge, two large, round balls of muscle I paraded in my naked splendor like awards of achievement. Yes, I thought, my ass is glorious.

You moved your warm touch to the outer edges of each rounded hump, remarking, “I love these deep dimples on the side, which attest to the power your ass possesses.” I tensed the muscle and made the masses plump and jut, two engines built for thrusting. “It’s a powerful ass, made for fucking.”

Yes! Yes. For fucking. When I fuck someone, I fuck them hard and deep. I shove my fourteen-inch python inside their ass and pump them until they scream with pleasure. My ass is a fuck machine. My ass is amazing.

“But this,” you said, moving your hands back together over the meat of my buttocks, sliding your powerful touch between the bulbous engines, “is the true miracle of your ass. Here,” you said, pushing the knob of your finger at the soft, wet, hungry hole at the center of my ass, “where you welcome me inside, the velvet grip of your ass, the control you finesse over our fuck, the way you’re able to control every inch, every millimeter as I push inside you and deliver thunderous throbbing erotic pulses of pure, unending sexual bliss until I release the flood of hot cream into your welcoming guts and you experience an orgasm so powerful that you nearly pass out—this is the most amazing part of your entire body.”

My god was paying tribute to me. My god praised me and I was washed in his praise like sunlight. Yes, I thought, my heart exploding, my cock swelling bigger still, yes, you inside me, you fucking me, your perfect and beautiful cock sliding into my body where I could show how much I loved you, make manifest my love for you, worship the perfect tool of your perfect masculine power and suck on your sex with my talented and hungry ass.

I can remember every fuck I have ever had from you, and each one was more glorious and perfect than the last. Other men may fuck me, for my ass is a tool of perfect pleasure, a velvet vise that welcomes men inside and provides unending tides of bliss as I massage and grip and stroke and fuck. My ass, the ass you gave me, but made only for you.

You rubbed your digit against me and I opened myself to you and pulled your touch inside me. No matter what part of your perfection touched me, it was always the same. I groaned with deep sexual bliss and wanted to pull your whole body into mine, to show you how much I worship you, to give you all the pleasure it is possible for my body to give.

“Thank you,” I managed to say. My god, my lover, my only.

“Do you love me?” you asked.

If it were possible for me to explode with love, I would have done so in that moment.

“Yes,” I said, “I love you.” Of course I love you. I love you like I love no other. I love you with my soul and my life, and worship you with my eyes and my body.

You bent your lips and pressed your mouth to mine. I felt you push your tongue inside my mouth, as long and thick and hot as a pliable prick, pushing yourself deeply inside me.

I groaned again. I could not help it. You pulled me around, taking me into your powerful arms and pressed your naked body against mine. Your skin was like nothing I had ever felt, and I ached at the sensation of its perfection against mine.

My fat cock surged with heat and I felt a fresh flow of honey erupt between us as we kissed, a kiss of perfect passion and deep desire and eternal love. I felt your hands stroke my body, and I tensed and flexed to display for you all the strength that was swelling in every ounce.

Our mouths parted after some minutes, and you said, “I love you, too.”

I could feel you between us, your heat and strength, centered on the tool of your ultimate power. I needed to show you how much I loved you. I needed to display my love for you, to deliver all the perfect bliss I was capable of giving, and to do so in the most perfect manner I knew. “Can I suck your dick?”

You smiled. Your face was too beautiful to withstand. “I have a better idea,” you said. I wondered what you would ask of me, and I was only too eager to provide it. We stood in that room, our naked perfect bodies pressed against each other, my dick throbbing and pulsing and pumping sweet deliveries of warm honey in worship of you.

“Let’s fuck.”

“Yes.” God, yes. My asshole trembled and tingled with fear and anticipation. I wanted you inside me, but you were so huge. Would it hurt? Why did I doubt this? Had you ever hurt me?

“But remember what happened last time,” you said.

“Last time?” I could not remember the last time, but surely there had been a last time. I searched my memory of us together.

You bent your lips to my ear, I could feel your warm breath against my skin and I closed my eyes and swooned, and you whispered, “Last time I fucked you…I fucked you so good, you gained twenty-five more pounds of muscle.”

You smiled. “I remember,” I said. Of course. How could I have forgotten? The strange and amazing sensation of swelling with power as you pushed yourself inside me, as if every pump of your massive cock was pushing muscle along my limbs and making me bigger and stronger.

I looked down at my massive chest. I controlled its muscle, made myself bulge and dance for you, made the mass of power display its control, flexing the impossible amount of thick muscle bulging from my upper body. “I think it was all here,” I joked. I pushed my pecs towards each other, flexing hard. The depth of the valley between my chest muscles increased by inches.

Now you smiled, as well. “Maybe it was,” you agreed.

“Do you think that’ll happen again?” I was hopeful to relive that experience. I could feel the sensation of growth and the increase of mass in my mind, the memory of it, but I longed to actually feel it again.

“There’s an easy way to find out.”

I felt your monster stretch to its full, awesome, impossible extents. Your mastery over it was total. You had but to desire it to grow and it obeyed, just as I obeyed, just as everyone obeyed in the presence of your perfect beauty and power.

I dropped to my knees before you, moving my hands to hold your impossible and beautiful prick and began to lap against its inches, bathing you with spit. Though you had not allowed me to fully pleasure you, to take you inside me and bring you to eruption, I was determined to show you just what I could do even given this simple task. I knew that I would have to prepare you as fully as possible, so that I could be prepared for you as well. I gave your meat a tongue bath that you would never forget, slathering warm spit across every inch of your rock-hard erection as I stroked and worshiped you with my strong hands.

Your prick glistened, dripping with my spit. I looked up at your perfect face and licked my lips, finally satisfied with my preparations. “I think you’re ready,” I said. I tried grasping the fat shank of your incredible cock in my hand. I squeezed hard. You tensed against me and grew even larger. I could not dent your massive cock with all my strength.

“Are you?” you answered. Did you read the trepidation I was feeling on my face? Your massive meat rose before me—I was literally faced with your size and power. I could smell you, though, which made the heat of desire rise inside me and made my ass tingle and throb. There was no other cock in the world to compare to yours. No other man had its size, its power, its strength, and its ability to push so far inside me that I would scream from sheer pleasure as you found something that no other man could.

“You know what I always admire about you?” you asked me.

I stood up, attempting to match his bravado. “My overwhelming charm?” I joked. I moved my hand over the massive muscle of my chest, across my eight-pack abs, through the thick forest of my pubic bush and grasped my own thick hard-on.

“Your…unique flexibility.”

Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten? My body was large and powerful, yes, but also magically supple and elastic. Even with muscles so large and a frame so tall, it was amazing what I could do.

I moved back to the bed and lay upon it facing him. Then I reached down to grasp an ankle in each hand and slowly, effortlessly, split myself apart before your watchful and admiring gaze.

I felt my muscles stretch and pull, reveling in the feeling of this massive body obeying my desires without effort. I pulled my legs apart, wider and wider, opening my hole to your lustful gaze and welcoming your throbbing meat inside where I knew it would deliver its mind-blowing thrusts of pure sex over and over until I could take it no more.

And then I would grow for you. Somehow, I knew it would happen.

You smiled at me and moved one hand onto your hard-on. I watched the muscles lining the limb flare and bulge as you used your unrelenting strength to point your steel rod towards me. A fat gob of honey swelled at the eye of your massive snake and grew thick and heavy until it drooled from you onto me, dropping perfectly onto my hungry hole.

My god, the feeling. It was just the slightest kiss of your sexual prowess, but it sizzled and tingled and throbbed like a hundred cocks. I felt my cock pulsing hard, constant throbs against my belly. I was drooling my own supply of honey that dripped across my massive chest and drained into the deep valley like a river. “Fuck me,” I said, I asked, I begged you. “I need you to fuck me.”

I was beyond need. I was beyond lust. I would’ve paid any price, now, to feel you inside me.

You moved your hands along the length of my outstretched legs. I trembled at your touch. “Your skin is so smooth and warm, so supple and sensual, like silk.” Others had said that to me, surprised that a man so big and rough had such soft and supple skin. I groaned pleasure at your praises and tried not to explode with cream.

You bent closer and I felt the fat knob of your steel-hard erection kiss my ass. You moved yourself inside me with slow finesse, wanting to draw out this meeting and allow me to feel every fat inch as you entered. But I was anxious, I tried to pull you in. My ass was made for fucking. Made to fuck and to be fucked. I knew how to control it with ease and my own finesse, and I pulled against you with all my strength.

Your cock became surrounded by the tight, velvet glove of my muscular body and I stroked you, sucked on you, licked you with tongues where no tongues existed. I looked up and watched you close your eyes and sigh before you finally began to thrust yourself all the way inside me, to the thick hilt of your massive meat.

I could feel every fucking millimeter of your magical, massive prick as you effortlessly and perfectly pleasured me as no other man could.

You leaned down over me, continually fucking my perfect ass, supporting your weight on your powerful arms and pushed your mouth against mine. You were hungry with lust, and I felt our twin tongues of unbelievable length and talent dance inside our mouths.

You fucked me deeply and truly as we shared that kiss, and I lifted my arms to wrap them around your wide, muscular torso, lifting my body to your body. I wanted—needed—to feel the mind-blowing sensation of your skin against mine.

We fucked and we fucked, minutes or hours or days, and then you suddenly shoved yourself home without preamble or announcement and exploded inside me! I could feel my guts warmed as you began to pump heavy fountains of hot cream over and over, pushing inside then pulling fat inches of your meat from my hungry and eager ass before shoving back in and exploding again.

And again.

And again.

You came inside me. “Remember what happened last time,” you had warned. But I wanted this. I wanted to grow for you, to become more powerful still, bigger and stronger for you.

And then I felt it. I felt it begin. A surging heat inside my arms and legs, wrapped around you as you fucked me, pushing your come inside me. I felt it in my butt and my chest. I felt my body begin to change.

I looked at your handsome face, your godlike face, and smiled, and grinned, and laughed. “I can feel it,” I told you, wanting you to know what you had done to me.

You smiled back, never stopping your magical fuck for a moment. “I can see it,” you said. I was swelling with fresh muscle. New fibers were multiplying into new bands, stretching across the mammoth expanse of my superhuman, outsized chest, growing fatter cables of thick power. My nipples, sensitive as pricks, tingled and throbbed.

You were watching me grow with fascination and wonder, and you leaned down and extended your tongue, long and wet and warm, and licked my nipple.

I had to groan with sheer bliss and I felt a sudden, overwhelming flash of sex explode inside me and I started to come, sending a fat, hot splash that splattered against your body.

You welcomed it as we came together. “Come for me,” you said. “Come gallons of hot cream.”

I gasped as I felt the dam break and my balls hurt and felt heavy. My cock grew hot, hotter than the sun, and felt tight and thick and I was suddenly exploding with cream. My cock shot my undeniable load all over both of us in thick ropes, again and again.

You came inside me and your magical, muscle-building seed spilled hotly from my hungry ass as my cock kept erupting like some volcanic hose filled with cream. Overwhelmed with the power of the sexual eruption, I moaned and gasped and held onto your massive frame as my uncontrollable orgasm reached new heights, ascending peak after peak, growing stronger with every blast from my prick.

“Yes,” you said, you whispered, you comforted, perhaps sensing my fear as the sensation of the orgasmic explosion threatened to overtake me entirely, “this is the most amazing experience of your entire life. You have never felt so perfect, so good, so pure, so masculine and powerful.”

“Oh, my god.” I came gain.

“How big will you grow?” you asked me. You kept pumping more cream inside me, hot and powerful, to make me swell with size and power and beauty.

“Bigger,” I said. Yes. Bigger. That was all I wanted. You smiled with love and pride and watched me grow. “Bigger and bigger.”

Part 2

When you entered my room on that day, you still looked ordinary. I had my back to you so you could see my butt. I had probably spent too much time on my ass if we’re being honest, making sure it was perfect, making absolutely sure it was the most beautiful ass that it was possible for a man to own, but as long as it was there I might as well start with the good stuff, right?

You stopped dead in your tracks—like most people do when they meet me. I was sitting in a chair that I’d turned around, with my chest pressed against the back of the chair so I could afford you an unencumbered gaze at my perfect ass.

I was also naked. Maybe that’s what stopped you initially, seeing a naked guy in that room in that hotel. But I’m pretty sure it was my ass that kept you immobile.

“You know who I am,” I said. I’d modulated my voice so you didn’t automatically cream your jeans. That was a problem initially, but I’d finessed things so my voice was no longer so sexually powerful that I would inadvertently cause a man to spontaneously ejaculate. Now they would only do that if I wished it to happen. But that was never as much fun as more direct involvement.

I kept my back to you. No need to make you pass out until I was ready for you—or until I had the chance to prepare you for me. You knew who I was, but that rarely fully prepared someone for the full power of my presence.

You didn’t answer initially. Shocked, probably, at my appearance. Even from behind, I’m pretty amazing. I was anxious to get started on you—filling in some details. It helps if I can watch it happen. It helps me get things right, without my imagination running too wild and making me go back in to rewrite some of it later.

It’s much harder to rewrite it than the initial suggestions. I’m not certain why, but I assume it has to do with all the connections that occur as a result of my manipulations. Some of them—most of them, really—I can’t predict with certainty.

“I’m going to turn around,” I said.

“Yeah,” you answered. There was a flutter to your voice. Uncertainty, maybe. Uncertainty about your own feelings at that moment, seeing me. Even if you’ve been aroused by another guy, it was certainly never to the extent that you were feeling it now.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

I think you swallowed deeply. “What?”

I had to smile, and then I had to erase that from my lips. Smiling would almost certainly make your dick explode. “Are you gonna be okay?” I repeated. “If I turn around?”

“Yeah,” you said, though there was doubt in your voice. Probably half bravado, half machismo. I could use that. It was always easier to amplify something that already existed instead of inventing it.

I stood up, then, and I heard you gasp or swoon. Maybe even groan. I tried to keep my face neutral so I didn’t overwhelm you too much. My body is perfect, but for some reason it’s always my face that makes them really lose their shit. I should probably tone it down, reduce my superhuman beauty and allow them to look at me without popping an instant boner and pumping out fat ropes of cum, but I can’t help myself. I’ve spent too much time and energy getting where I am now to start pulling back from the peak of physical perfection.

It’s all so intricate. No one really understands that part. A brushstroke out of place will ruin a masterpiece. There were millions of brushstrokes involved in the construction of my perfection, and I was a bit scared that if I started trying to erase one piece, another might start to fall apart.

Like I said, everything’s connected.

I stood to my full height, and my head would’ve been brushing the ceiling if I had not already altered the room’s dimensions to accommodate me. I could have easily lifted my muscle-swollen arms and pressed against the room’s limits to allow myself more room, but it was easier to make the adjustments in my head than clean up the mess of deconstructing a building for my personal benefit after the fact. I’d been tempering my strength measurements for a long time, trying hard to find the balance between being able to do whatever I wanted with these muscles of nearly limitless power without accidentally destroying things because I wasn’t cautious enough. Then there was the question of weight, of course. That much physical power and development required some pretty dense muscle fiber, and that all added to my overall weight. No sense in creating so much power in my body if I was cracking concrete with every step.

“I’m going to turn around now,” I announced. “I should warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“Yes,” I said, and then I turned.

At first I tried changing outward things, but that proved to be too hard. Making things better for me from the outside had too many variables I couldn’t control, but when I turned the changes on myself, I began to understand how powerful great beauty was. Then, as I improved myself, incrementally at first and then with larger, wholesale changes to every aspect of my physical being, I understood that I could do these things to myself and others would adjust partially anyway, because they wanted so badly to look at me, or hear me speak, or watch me move, or be with me.

Then I started making myself over into the man I was now—but there were still adjustments required. Small ones, now, rather than large ones. Constant tinkering had brought me to this level of perfection and power.

Initially I thought it would be great to be famous. “Everyone in the world knows who I am,” I said, and then it was true. But that proved to be more trouble than it was worth, so I reversed that and limited it down so I could function among others. “You know who I am,” was usually the first thing I told someone, and it eased our relations and helped them cope with who I was now. Or, “everyone here knows who I am,” and then I could walk around the city and not be causing accidents and fainting spells.

Still, people could never be fully prepared for me. I tried being literal like that, saying “people are fully prepared for me,” but that’s not a precise statement. What did it mean, really? I guess free will had something to do with things occasionally going crazy, and I did what I could to resolve those problems.

I turned around slowly, because I know that I can cause someone to have a heart attack if they see all of me too fast. My body is perfect. Maybe more than perfect, if there is such a thing. I wonder if everyone sees what I see in the mirror, or if they see their own version of masculine perfection when they look at me. Hard to say, of course, because I can’t see through their eyes.

I tried that once, but it doesn’t work. I can change everything, it seems, but I can only be me. That’s a small price to pay, I think.

I turned around. I used to say something like “You’re not going to come,” or “you’re not going to faint,” but the result was that their body refused to do the thing it needed to do very badly, causing pain or madness, so now I just turn around. Weird how things work sometimes.

Your body shuddered visibly and your eyes rolled up in their sockets. You came, suddenly and ferociously…and then you fainted.

I couldn’t help but smile.

I lifted you into my arms and placed you on the bed. You were large for an average man, but quite small compared to me. Everyone was, now. Size, like beauty, is another way of overcoming boundaries in others. Sometimes they fear me. Sometimes they worship me. Sometimes both. I knew that your reaction would be swift and powerful, but I had hoped you could withstand the sight of me for longer than a moment.

I looked down at my body and felt a strong pulse of sexual desire. I turned myself on, as well. After all, I was only human. My cock throbbed with a sudden, hard pulse of sex. The pulse grew hard and fast and ricocheted through me, as I had designed it to do. Sexual impulses were the most powerful sensation in me, now, and whenever I felt them they would swell to overwhelm every other sensation. I looked down at you and lowered myself to one knee to look more closely at you.

I could change you now, of course. All I had to do was speak the words to change anything I wanted to about you. But it was always more…satisfying to do it when you were aware, to watch the initial disbelief melt into realization, and watch your attitude change as your body changed.

“Wake up,” I said. Your eyes fluttered slightly as I called you back to reality. “You can look at me without fainting,” I instructed. It was more a suggestion than a command, allowing you to do something rather than requiring it. It works better. I could do nothing to mitigate your intense sexual attraction to me. That was unavoidable.

Your eyes opened. “Your eyes are blue,” I said. I watched the ordinary color drain away and be replaced. “Bright blue, like the sky.” Your eyes were azure, almost turquoise now. “You are naked like me,” I observed, and you were, your clothing gone from your body from one moment to the next. “We are always naked, because everyone expects it. No one wishes us to hide our perfection. Not a single inch of it.”

“My god,” you whispered, as you looked at my face.

“How much do you weigh?” I asked.

You blinked slowly, sleepily, and told me. You were still dazed by my beauty.

“You weigh two hundred and seventy-five pounds.” Your body began to swell. “Nearly all of it is muscle.” The swelling altered as I spoke the words. “You have 8% body fat.” I cast my gaze along your frame and watched my words become reality. Your legs developed heavy, distinct wedges of muscle. It swelled up under your skin, which suctioned itself against the quickly developing brawn. Your soft belly hardened into a six-pack. Your shoulders stretched wider to accommodate the lobes of fresh, hard power. I watched your body as it continued to swell with power. “How tall are you?”

You answered.

I nodded. “You’re six feet nine inches tall.” Your frame began to stretch. “Do you like being that tall?”

“I… I wish I was taller.”

“Six ten?”

“Even taller. Seven feet tall.” Your words were groggy. I heard your voice lower as your neck and vocal cords stretched.

“You are seven feet tall,” I agreed. You groaned with obvious pleasure as your body changed. “And you weigh…”

“Three hundred pounds.”

“Yes. You do. You weigh three hundred pounds.” My heart was beating as your dreams turned real. You had a hunger for this, perhaps after seeing me, and my size and power and beauty. I had chosen well.

Your body was changing moment by moment, swelling larger and larger. “Your face,” I said. “Have you always been so handsome?”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” I said, “you are. The way your blue eyes are set off by the short, jet black hair on your head. Your strong, squared jawline gives you such a masculine demeanor. And I like the way you maintain that shadow of stubble, the way it enhances your intense beauty.”

“I always thought I had large ears,” you said, quietly, looking at my perfect ears.

“No,” I said, “they’re beautiful. They stick out slightly, but that gives me something to hold on to when you’re sucking my cock.”

“Your cock?”

I nodded. “You love to suck cock. You’re an expert. It’s as if you were born to do it, the way we fit together. I’m often amazed at the ease with which you can accommodate me all the way to the root of my cock. Every foot of me. And then when I come, when my magic balls finally pump the thick, hot flood of cream I can produce in endless supply, you swallow every drop.”

“Every…?” You sat up onto your elbows, your six-pack of strong abs swelling suddenly, and looked down at my prick. My perfect, beautiful, thick, long, gorgeous cock.

“Every drop,” I repeated. “No matter how much we do it, or how much I come, you can take it all.”

“I can,” you said. You looked at my face and offered me a smile. I watched the lines of your visage alter to please me. I watched your brow harden, and your cheeks lift, and your nose become proud. Your chiseled features perfected themselves to please me.

You looked again at my prodigious equipment. “How big is it?”

“Sixteen inches long,” I said. “Thicker than any other man’s cock in the world.”

“Sixteen…”

“Soft.” My prick matched my stated dimensions perfectly, lengthening from its former length because I had said so. Swelling to expand beyond any other man’s prick. “But when I am aroused—particularly by you, because we are lovers and you are my perfect match—I grow inches longer. Inches thicker.”

“Inches,” you repeated, mesmerized.

“And you swallow every inch.” I placed my hand on your chest, the pad of my thumb against your dark, prominent nipple, and rubbed it. “You’ve always told me that your nipples are very sensitive.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “They are.”

“Probably because your chest is so large.”

“It is.” You looked down with pride in your muscular accomplishments as each mound swelled forward with muscle.

“It is thick and hard, like two heavy globes of power, swollen with might.” It continued growing, the cleavage increasing as the twin pectoral plates grew fatter with muscle. “I can make you come if I play with your nipples.” Your cock jumped, arching up suddenly. “Your twelve-inch cock,” I added, and I watched it unfurl and swell, the head plumping and ripening.

“Twelve…?”

“No. Your fourteen-inch cock,” I amended. My heart skipped a beat as the head of your beast reached up to rub its weeping mouth against the back of my hand as I teased your fat nipple. It felt hot against my skin, pumped thick and hard with your blood.

“I want to suck your cock,” you reported. Your eyes were closed and your handsome jaw was clenched as you attempted to withhold the massive orgasm I was building, just by tenderly rubbing the stiffening tips of your silver dollar-sized nipples.

“I understand,” I said, “but first I want you to stand up.”

“Okay,” you said, and I removed my touch from the rubbery point of your supple nipple and stood myself, taking a step back to allow you some room.

You moved your legs over the edge of the bed, which was ludicrously small now for your seven-foot frame, and you pitched forward and stood on your powerful legs. I watched your cobblestone belly collapse and the weight of your massive chest hang forward as you gained your feet.

Your fourteen-inch prick was rock-hard and wagged like another limb on your majestic and beautiful body. Your six-pack abs, “Eight-pack abs,” I said, watching two new ones swell into existence, inflated and receded as you pulled air into your larger lungs, and I watched your arousal and desire make itself physically manifest when your angry red erection started to drool a flow of pre-cum.

“Turn around, please,” I instructed, and you pivoted where you were. “Your ass is beautiful,” I said. I moved my hands onto each rounded hump and gave instruction to you. “Your ass is round and thick and hard. Your ass may be the only thing on your body as large as your chest.” It plumped out into my large hands. The warmth filled my palms. “I love these deep dimples on the side, which attest to the power your ass possesses.” The roundness was deeply offset now by those divots on the side of each protruding muscular mass. “It’s a powerful ass, made for fucking.”

“But this,” I said, moving my fingers in between the mounds of your mouth-watering butt, “is the true miracle of your ass. Here,” I said, touching the deep, wet heat of your hole, “where you welcome me inside, the velvet grip of your ass, the control you finesse over our fuck, the way you’re able to control every inch, every millimeter as I push inside you and deliver thunderous throbbing erotic pulses of pure, unending sexual bliss until I release the flood of hot cream into your welcoming guts and you experience an orgasm so powerful that you nearly pass out—this is the most amazing part of your entire body.”

I rubbed my finger against you and felt you open to welcome me inside. I realized you were showing me the control I had just described. You groaned and cooed and twisted your head around on your powerful neck to look at me. “Thank you,” you said.

“Do you love me?” I asked. This was something I could never control. The physical parts were always easy. The emotional parts, well, that was something no one controlled.

“Yes,” you said, “I love you.”

I bent my lips and pressed my mouth to yours. I pushed my tongue inside your mouth, as long and thick and hot as a pliable prick, pushing myself deeply inside you. You groaned again. I pulled you around, taking you into my powerful arms and pressed your naked body against mine. My skin was like nothing you had ever felt before. Smooth and warm, and you would never again feel anything as sensual as that. Your fat cock surged with heat and a fresh flow of honey erupted between us as we kissed, a kiss of perfect passion and deep desire and eternal love. I stroked your beautiful body, feeling the strength that was now swelling in every ounce of you.

Our mouths parted after some minutes, and I said, “I love you, too.”

“Can I suck your dick?”

“I have a better idea,” I said. Your elegant and masculine eyebrow arched and your blue, blue eyes sparkled. “Let’s fuck.”

“Yes.”

“But remember what happened last time,” I said.

“Last time?”

I bent my lips to your ear, the ear that stuck out slightly in a way I always found so attractive, and whispered, “Last time I fucked you…I fucked you so good, you gained twenty-five more pounds of muscle.”

You smiled. “I remember,” you agreed, and you looked down at that massive chest of yours and made it bulge and dance, flexing the impossible amount of thick power attached to your upper body. “I think it was all here.” The depth of the valley between your pecs increased by inches.

Now I smiled, too. “Maybe it was,” I agreed.

“Do you think that’ll happen again?”

“There’s an easy way to find out.” My cock stretched to its full, awesome, impossible extents and you dropped to your knees to lubed up the monster with your talented tongue. Even though it was not a true blow job and you did not swallow me and pleasure me in the manner that I knew you could, I was still in awe of your talents and wondered what you could accomplish. Sometimes I am surprised by the results of my manipulations.

My prick was bathed in spit and glistening. You looked up at my perfect face and licked your lips. “I think you’re ready,” you reported, attempting to grasp the fat shank of my incredible cock in your hand and squeeze against me, though I was hard as diamond and thicker than your muscled forearm.

“Are you?” I challenged. I must confess that I had my doubts that you would be able to accommodate all of me, even though I had specified that you could—and what it would feel like for both of us. “You know what I always admire about you?”

“My overwhelming charm?” you asked, your voice was a sexy growl that reached to my loins and stroked me.

“Your…unique flexibility.”

You nodded and moved onto the bed, onto your back, grasping your ankles in your hands and pulling your long, thickly muscled legs apart with effortless ease. I watched the muscle stretch and flex and your cock pulsed and throbbed against your abs, showing how intently you enjoyed displaying this aspect I had just given to you.

I smiled for you, to show how pleased I was that this was how you imagined us joining together. your body in this position, with your arms and legs stretched wide and your pink, perfect pucker presented like a gift to me, was beyond beautiful.

I grabbed my impossibly huge erection and pushed it downward, something no other force on the planet could have accomplished. The mouth of my gleaming wet cock opened and a spill of pre-cum drizzled out like honey, drooling onto the center of your entrance and kissing you with wet heat. You grunted intense pleasure as my essence touched him, tingling like a million fingers and tongues at the tight pucker.

I moved myself towards you and touched the tip of my cock to your back door. You opened yourself with incredible finesse like an invitation. “Fuck me,” you said, you asked, you begged. “I need you to fuck me.” I moved my large hands along your muscular legs, so long and powerful, and said, “Your skin is so smooth and warm, so supple and sensual, like silk,” because it was, or it was now.

I could feel the pulse of you under my hands. I watched blood pumping along the fat veins that lined your enormous limbs, swollen with strength. I looked down at your ass, your perfect ass, and the tight pink mouth that awaited me.

We were two enormous muscular naked men on the bed in that room. You were seven feet high, and I was bigger than that, because I would always be bigger. The door behind me, behind my naked butt, was wide open and anyone who wanted to could stop and watch us, watch me pushing this monster inside of you, watch you groan and cry and whimper, watch my perfect and marvelous ass pump and flex as I thrust myself inside you, deep and true, delivering impossibly powerful pulses of overwhelming sexual bliss that no other man could possibly withstand. They could stand and witness this perfection.

I had made you for me, and we were perfect together.

I moved myself inside you slowly, and felt you seemingly pulling me with the power of your ass. It was, of course, exactly as I had described it. My cock was surrounded by the tight, beautiful glove of your body and you stroked me, sucked on me, licked me with tongues where no tongues existed. I closed my eyes and sighed in perfect pleasure and began to thrust myself all the way into you, to the thick hilt of my massive meat, feeling every millimeter of my magical, massive prick being effortlessly and perfectly pleasured as no other man could.

I leaned down over you, keeping my hips in motion, supporting my weight on my powerful arms and pushing my mouth against yours, hungry with lust, feeling our twin tongues of unbelievable length and talent dance inside our mouths. I fucked you deeply and truly as we shared that kiss, and you lifted your arms and wrapped them around my wide, muscular torso and lifted yourself to my body, wanting to feel the mind-blowing sensation of my skin against yours.

We fucked and we fucked and then I decided to come and I shoved myself home and exploded inside you, releasing heavy fountains of hot cream over and over, pushing inside and flooding your guts, then pulling inches of my meat from your hungry and eager ass before shoving back in and exploding again.

And again.

And again.

I came inside you and felt you begin to grow. You looked at my face and smiled, and grinned, and laughed. “I can feel it,” you said, your voice already deepening as your masculine power and muscular strength began to swell even more pronounced and powerful.

“I can see it,” I said, because I could. I could see you swelling with fresh muscle. I could see the fibers multiplying into new bands, stretching across the mammoth expanse of your already superhuman chest and growing fatter cables of thick power. yYour nipples spread like ink stains as you grew, and I knew they would be even more sensitive.

I leaned down and extended my tongue, long and wet and warm, and licked your widening nipple. You groaned and a fat, hot splash of cum splattered on my body as you erupted, unable to hold back for one more second, the truest expression of your love and desire for me. “Come for me,” I told you. “Come gallons of hot cream.”

You gasped and your eyes widened and your cock turned purple and shiny as you suddenly exploded. Your cock became a veritable hose that shot its load all over both of us in thick ropes, again and again.

Gallons, I had said, so gallons it would be.

Gallons of come from your magical ball sack. Swelling with the milk you produced now until I made you stop.

Just like me.

I came inside you and my magical, muscle-building seed spilled from your velvet vice as your cock kept erupting like some volcanic hose filled with cream. You moaned and gasped and held onto my massive frame as your uncontrollable orgasm reached new heights, ascending peak after peak, growing stronger with every blast from your prick.

“Yes,” I said, “this is the most amazing experience of your entire life. You have never felt so perfect, so good, so pure, so masculineå and powerful.”

“Oh, god,” you whispered. You came gain.

“How big will you grow?” I whispered. I pumped more cream inside you, more come to make you swell with size and power and beauty.

“Bigger,” you said. I smiled and watched your muscles expand. “Bigger and bigger.”

I smiled and leaned over you. “You can do this, too.”

“What?” you asked. “What can I do?”

Description In this tale of dual perspectives, when you seek out a man with godlike powers and a yearning to transform others (having already made himself the strongest and most beautiful man alive), you should expect your own agenda to be quickly forgotten. The only question is: will you become your fantasies—or his?

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