A New Kind of Vampire
|I had been feeling tired and strange ever since that probe search two weeks before. None of the other guys seemed to feel anything, but then none of them had found the pieces of the probe and sealed them in the bags for further investigation. I began to think it must have been something I came in contact with, because no matter what I did, I couldn't shake it.
I noticed it most when I was putting in my workout time. The company demands we work out a couple hours every day to keep us in top condition, and they provide us with the best equipment, and it had been part of the job I really liked. Since my years in school as a swimmer and gymnast had left me with a well developed, cut, hard body, I enjoyed keeping it up. In fact, I have to admit I had always been pretty vain about my looks. But just since that probe job, I had started feeling different, somehow.
At first it seemed that I was just tired and was suffering from some vague depression or dissatisfaction because of it. Working out had always worked to energize me, to make me feel strong, buff, and ready for anything. But now, it began to feel like I couldn't get a decent pump, that no matter how hard I worked, I wasn't getting to some place deep in my body that needed more. I couldn't seem to get enough energy up. I began to look at myself in the mirrors, and instead of thinking I looked fairly well developed, I started thinking that I was looking pretty puny, and feeling that way, too.
I began looking at the other guys who worked out at the company facility, and, strangely, the guys who were more into bodybuilding, the ones with the real thick, big muscles, the ones I had always told myself were overdeveloped, started to look good to me. Something that was coming from my own body, my own muscles, was saying to me that that was what I needed. I couldn't understand this feeling, but more and more I would look at those guys and find myself pumping harder and heavier and still not getting to that feeling. It was like not getting enough air when I breathed, or not being able to satisfy my hunger when I ate.
Then, one day when I had stayed late, trying harder than ever to work deep to get to that weird feeling, one of those guys came over to me. Everyone else had left. He said he had noticed how hard I was working. He had also noticed how I kept looking at him work out. God. He saw me. Was I staring? This guy was one of the bigger bodybuilders, and I had found myself lusting for his muscles. Not just to touch them, to see what that kind of muscle felt like, but to have them myself, to see what it felt like on my own body. It had nothing to do with sex, I thought. It was just a male thing. But I had this drive, this need to be bigger, to be more like him.
Anyway, he comes over and offers to help me, give me some pointers. I say OK, and I feel kind of strange when he gets close to me. I feel charged. He comes around behind me to show me some tips about my form in standing curls, and I figure by the way he gets so close behind me that he's gay and he's coming on to me, but his closeness feels so good that I don't care and I don't move away. When he makes contact, standing so close that I can feel his thick pecs against my back, the contact of his flesh is like a jolt of electricity. he places the length of his thick arm beneath mine, showing me his moves, and I can feel the bulge of his rock hard bicep under my triceps, and the surge gets stronger. It seems to be reaching a place in me, in my body, my muscles, that no amount of working out was able to reach. I get this overwhelming urge to make more contact. It feels like oxygen to a person with pneumonia. I lean into him until I am in contact all the way down my thighs. I can feel his groin pressing against my butt, the bulge of his cock, and I realize it is not totally soft. He stays that way, tight against me, while he shows me how to work both arms, and I'm feeling more and more charged by the sensation. I realize my own dick, of which I am very proud because of its length and thickness, is starting to come to life in my shorts.
Then this guy says maybe we shouldn't continue this here. Maybe we should go over to his place. He said he had some more he'd like to show me, and besides, all of a sudden, he was feeling kind of tired and wanted to sit down and relax a bit.
"That's fine," I told him. I'd love to come over to his place for a while.
We didn't even bother to shower. He said why bother, we can both shower at my place when we're done.
I said sounds good to me. So I followed him.
As soon as we get to his place, he tells me he's been watching me the last week or so, and he's noticed that I'm working so much harder, and also that I'm spending a lot more time looking at the bodies of the guys with the serious muscle mass. He says he figured for some reason I had decided to make a move from an International Male model type of body to something more along the lines of "Muscle and Fitness."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," I say. Seems like all of a sudden I have this real strong feeling that I need to get some real muscle on my body.
He suggests we get more comfortable, give ourselves more freedom, and he takes off his T-shirt and his shorts. He's wearing some very thin, very brief bikini underwear that barely cover him and clearly show what he's got under them, which is growing by the second.
I say sure, and I take off my tank top and my stretch shorts. I'm not wearing any underwear, and as soon as I drop my shorts, my own dick starts to get hard. But I just laugh as it grows to its wonderful, outrageous proportions and say I hope he doesn't mind that I'm not wearing any underwear.
"So you've decided you like big muscle, huh? I bet you're dying to feel this, aren't you?" And he starts to flex for me, showing me his huge biceps, his massive thighs, his gigantic pecs.
He's right. I am dying to touch his body, to feel those muscles. I take him up on the invitation. I start feeling both his arms, their hard, bulging thickness. As soon as I touch him, I get that surge-of-power feeling again. It's like some kind of mind link happening body to body, cell to cell. I touch his arms and I can feel the strength, the power, the size of his muscles in my own arms. God, does it feel good. I move my hands over his shoulders, and my own shoulders are flooded with the feeling of their mass, and my pecs feel his huge pecs inside them when I move my hands over them, slowly, feeling their rounded, hard contours.
"God, you're a sexy fuck," he tells me. "I always thought you were a good looking dude, but I had no idea you would be so hot. I didn't even think you were gay."
"Neither did I," I tell him.
"Well, I'm glad you decided to give it a try. Christ, you are making me feel weak in the knees. I've never felt like this with anyone before."
Meanwhile, I'm feeling so charged and so hot and full of amazing energy from just touching him I can't believe it. Every cell in my body wants more contact. Touch him more. So I hear myself telling him, why don't you just let me help hold you up, and I put my arms under his, around his thick, flared back and make solid contact all the way down, pressing my cock against him. The feeling of hot energy grows so strong, I can't believe it. I feel so strong, for the first time in days. I can feel it in my own muscles. My pecs feel more solid, harder, bigger against his. And then, my mind reeling with the realization, I see that THEY ARE! My God, they are GROWING!! That feeling isn't just a feeling. I'm practically holding him up, now, and I can feel my lats widening against my own upper arms, I can feel my arms swelling with solid muscle. God, it feels so good, I am lost in the feeling, and then I hear him say he has to sit down.
As I help him to the sofa, I see to my shock that he had lost some of his muscle size. He still is very muscular, but he is definitely smaller, and I suddenly grasp what must be happening. I must be absorbing his vital energy, the male energy that went into creating those muscles, and along with the energy some kind of cellular transfer is taking place. I am actually absorbing his muscle mass right out of him.
He appears dazed, weakened, but his cock is hard as a rock. I say to him, "Why don't we just get rid of these," and I pull down down his tiny briefs. His dick springs out, bouncing with hot jerks and spasms against his belly.
"Jesus, man, what are you doing to me? I feel like I could pass out."
"Hold on a while," I tell him, "you look like you need some attention," and I straddle him, grabbing both our cocks together in my right hand while I lean on his chest with the other. Now I can feel the energy transfer. I feel strong, alive, pulsating with a profound sense of growing masculinity. Growing! I can see it! My pecs are swelling, massing up, rounding out. My arms are becoming thicker, my muscles bulging. I can feel my back widening. My abs are becoming hard ridges. I can actually feel the energy transferring between us everywhere we are in flesh to flesh contact. God, it feels so hot!
When I look at him, pulling my eyes from my own muscular body, I see again that he is smaller, thinner than he was. He can hardly lift his head. I throw his legs over my shoulders and he has no strength or will to resist me as I shove my throbbing cock into his tight asshole. God, the transfer is stronger still. I thrust hard, deep, pummeling his butt, and even as I am feeling my own power growing I can see him shrinking. He is barely even moaning as I pump him with my own big cock. OH, YES!!! It feels even bigger that it usually does. When I finally cum, it feels like a nuclear explosion that starts in my groin and shoots to every extremity.
Finally, I pull out. He is limp. He lays on the sofa barely able to speak or move, and his massive muscles are now gone. He looks like a rail-thin, weak, tired boy. What did you do to me? he barely whispers, and I tell him I don't know, but I do. It's something from that probe, something that came from some other time and space in the universe, something that has made me a sponge, able to absorb the masculine energy, the vitality, the very muscle from another person. As I stand up to dress, I see myself in a mirror hanging in the living room. I'm big. All of a sudden, I have got a muscular body. My whole shape is different. Bigger butt, thicker thighs, wider back and shoulders, thicker upper torso, muscular arms. I can't help but flex to see how these muscles bulge, and I love the way it feels. Yeah. This is what I needed, what I was so hungry for. I can only think that I need to get dressed, find another source to feed this phenomenon. I want more, need more. I need to see more muscle piled on top of this muscle, feel myself get huge. I remember that I hadn't showered yet, so I leave him lying there and go into his bathroom. The feeling of soaping up my newly muscular body is such a turn on and I am feeling so hot anyway, that my cock is immediately hard again. I could swear it feels bigger than before. And my balls, too. I pull back the shower curtain and watch myself jack off in the mirror. What a beautiful body. The muscle looks as hot to me as it feels. As I stroke my big dick, I'm feeling the new mass of my pecs, hard and rounded and cut, and the big, hard ridges of my abs. Yeah, I definitely need more of this. I pull my stretch shorts and my tank top back on. God, do I look different in them now. They are so tight, clinging like skin. Every muscle and bulge is clearly outlined. I feel so sexy, so hot, I can't believe it. I've got to get out of here. I've got to get more!!
Back out on the street, I start to head for my car, but something, that feeling of needing more air than I can breathe in, is so intense it seems to drive me. It's like this insatiable hunger, but it isn't my stomach that's craving, it's my muscles, deep down inside their tissue. At the same time, I am feeling so hot and sexy, I know that I'm projecting irresistible male appeal. I'm acutely aware of each muscle twitching, bouncing, bulging with every contraction I make as I walk. I am extremely aware of the way my shorts are emphasizing the shape and size of my basket. I feel like I'm still getting bigger, bulkier as I walk, as though there was a residual of his maleforce still catching up with me.
I see people look me up and down as they pass by. I know I'm giving them a show. Then I notice this real good looking kid, probably about nineteen, drive past me slowly, turn around in a driveway, park in the parking lot of a grocery store that's open across the street. He gets out of his car and stands there a minute, just looking me over, obviously cruising me. He's got on a pair of nylon running shorts, running shoes, and a beautiful, short but thick coat of silky, dark hair all over his pecs, swirling all the way up to his shoulders and throat, down his tight belly making a heavy line that plunges down into his shorts. He's no heavy duty bodybuilder, but he's got a good, pumped up shape. Like a lot of the gay guys in this area. He knows I see him watching, and he lets me see him watching me, and then he goes into the store. I cross the street and follow him in.
He's at the magazine rack, looking at a bodybuilding magazine. I walk up next to him and pick up another bodybuilding magazine. I'm flipping through it; I pause on a page of pictures of guys like Paul DeMayo, Craig Titus, and for a minute I'm transfixed. I look at their mass and I want to consume it, I have to have those muscles on me, feel them when I move. I'm keenly aware of what is happening to me now, and I have no wish to fight it.
The kid breaks my reverie, says all that muscle is hot, isn't it?
"Yeah, it really is."
"You're looking pretty hot yourself," he says.
"Yeah? You think so?" And I realize I'm grinning this cocky smile, and while I'm holding the magazine with my left hand, I'm rubbing my pecs with my right one, flexing my bicep as I do. I can tell I've gotten bigger. He's watching.
Yeah. Real hot.
Thanks, I say. I can feel my cock getting hard, straining against the material of my shorts, stretching it. My shorts are tighter. I glance down and see that my thighs are thicker, and my butt must be too because of the way the fabric is stretched so tight and thin across my groin, clearly outlining my cock and balls. When I glance down, so does he, and he sees my hard-on, then glances at his own shorts, which are showing a definite rise at the crotch. He looks back up and smiles a seductive little smile. I'm still rubbing my big, hard tits. They feel so good to me.
"You know, I could do that for you," he says.
"I bet you could," I answer.
I was just going to pick up some beer and my place is just down the street. "Can I offer you a beer?"
"Sure man," I tell him, "I'd be just real pleased to take what you have to offer."
I ride with him in his car to his apartment building. On the way, he reaches over and puts his hand on my arm. As soon as he touches me, I can feel the surge of energy. Not all that strong, and I figure it's because the point of contact is so small. I decide to check that out. I put my hand on his thigh, up real close to his basket, where his hard-on is showing in his tissue thin shorts. As soon as I make contact, the feeling gets stronger. I can also tell he's feeling something unusual, too, by the way he takes in his breath.
By the time we park in the underground lot, he says we'd better go up the back stairs, that he doesn't want to run into anyone right now, and he glances down at his shorts which are draped over his totally hard cock. Looks like a nice one.
We walk into his apartment, and he sets down the six-pack, takes out two, opens them, hands me one, chugs deeply on his. I'm letting my own cock get hard and I can feel it pressing more against the thin, stretchy fabric. I'm looking at his body, lusting after his muscle, even though it isn't that developed. It's still some, it's nice, and I want it. He's looking very delicious, especially with that hot body hair disappearing into his shorts. I reach over, trace the dark line down his abdomen to the elastic of his shorts, saying, now where do you suppose this leads? When I touch him, his stomach involuntarily pulls in. I see his cock jerk. I pull the shorts down onto his thighs. His cock jumps free, standing straight out from a dense, thick, bush of pubic hair that spreads out over his groin, around his large balls, onto his upper thighs, framing his genitals. Very hot. He reaches over and strips off my tank top, then pulls down my shorts, peeling them off like skin. When he sees my thick, long cock jutting toward him and the size of my balls hanging against my thighs, he sucks in his breath.
"Jesus, man," he says.
"You like what you see? Why don't you come over here and get close to it?" And I pull him over, wrap my arms around him so that he's pressed hard against my body from the top of our chests down to our knees.
"Oh, God!!" he gasps, as I feel the surge of energy transfer magnify. So it does increase with the amount of body contact. I hold him tight and close, and I close my eyes and feel the maleforce, the power, the strength moving directly from him into me, into my body. I can feel it filling deep in my muscles, feeding them. God, it feels so incredibly good. He seems to be getting almost limp in my arms.
"Christ, man, I feel so weak. What the fuck are you doing to me?" He tries to laugh.
"Why don't we go lie down, then. Is the bedroom in there?" He nods.
He lets me lead him in, almost like he is slipping into a trance, losing his will and his function. Shit, I think to myself. I was going to get him to fuck me first. Oh, well, next time I'll have to remember. And as I direct him down on the bed, I notice that not only has he lost most of his muscle, not only is his dick, still hard, not nearly as thick and big as it was before, but I also see that he isn't anywhere near as hairy as he was before. He is looking more like a young kid that hasn't really started to develop yet. But he's too much into his haze to notice.
When I see all that, I look down at myself for the first time, and I can clearly see that my muscles have grown again. I'm starting to look like a serious bodybuilder. I see that my cock and balls have grown again, too. My dick is huge. Really thick with a swollen head, and it feels so wonderfully heavy. My balls are looking as big as a couple of lemons or something. And all around them, my own pubic hair has grown darker, denser and amazingly thick, like his was just a few minutes ago, maybe even more so. It spreads out much more on my groin and my upper thighs the way his did. And it's growing into a line that goes all the way up the hard, heavy, hairy ridges of my abs to the center of my chest where it loses itself in a dark, silky, swirling coat of new hair that's sprouting all over my thick, huge pecs. Oh, man, this is so hot. I look down at the kid, who is still looking at me, uncomprehending, but with a hard on. I've got to get the rest of what he has to give me. I lie down on him, full body length. The surge isn't as strong as before. I lift him up and lower him onto my cock. Just feeling his tight ass engulf my enormous dick is so intense I nearly cum, but I hold off because I can feel what's left of his energy, his vitality, his very essence of maleness surging into me through my cock. I know that this is the place of ultimate contact. The thinnest, most vulnerable membrane, the spot of contact where the richest essence is to be sucked out. My mind is reeling with this knowledge as my body is reeling with sensation. I watch as the last of his body hair disappears and mine grows thicker. His cock becomes that of a very young boy. His body is as thin as a child before puberty. All the sensations come together, growing stronger, more erotic. Pure male sexual energy. I feel like I could explode with the power, and I do, cumming so strongly that my whole body goes into uncontrollable contractions, shooting what feels like a quart of hot cream into this child.
When I finish cumming, I lift him off my cock. Jesus, it's huge. I set him back down on the bed, and he barely has the strength to move. His eyes flutter, his breathing is shallow but steady. I look at the kid, such a hot young man a few minutes ago, now drained of every bit of his male energy and growth. Will he start over when he recovers and grow back to his normal self, or is this permanent, what I've done to him? I feel strange, because I think I should feel badly about what I've just done, but I don't. All I feel is hot, sexy, muscular, and almost satisfied. Almost. But not quite. I clean myself up in front of the mirror. It's funny, and it feels very erotic to me, how much more cleaning up, toweling off is necessary with all this new hair on my body. I pull on my shorts again, and this time they are so tight I can barely get into them. The seams strain. I adjust my cock and balls, but now my thighs are so thick that they have no space between them at all. They squeeze together tightly, and my basket sits in front of them, propped out, pushed forward, completely, clearly outlined. The rim of the head of my cock is distinctly showing, and the bulge of the whole package outrageous. I look at how the seam in back pulls tight into the crack of my ass making my buns look like two boulders. Talk about a bubble-butt! My torso is heavy, thick, bulging with still-growing muscle. Muscle now covered with intensely masculine hair. I let the shorts ride low on my hips, low enough to let a little of my pubic bush show, just a healthy hint, for a good tease. I feel so erotic, so unbelievably sexy. I pull the legs of the shorts up high on my thighs, which I can feel still getting thicker. Even my arms and legs have grown his hair. I start to pull on my tank top, and then, even though it feels great the way it stretches against my pecs and exaggerates how wide and thick my lats have grown, I decide not to wear it. He wasn't wearing any shirt. Why not show off as much as I can get away with?!
I walk back to my car, my awareness of how I look, and how all this muscle feels, extremely acute. God, what I wouldn't do for more!! Now I realize that my drive is not only not satisfied, it has grown stronger. It isn't dark yet, and my mind races to where to find the next one. God, I feel like a fucking vampire. But, I tell myself, I'm not killing anyone. And I don't fucking care. Where could I go, fast, to find a source of real muscle. I'm conscious of a feeling, like an instinct, that now I need someone with as much muscle mass as I can find. I know that the more they have, the more I can take, and now I want to get myself as huge as I can. I don't care if I become a total freak, a muscle monster. I need it. I want to feel myself massed up, stacked with more muscle that I can imagine. I flash on the beach. Muscle beach.
It takes fifteen minutes to get there. All the way, people who see me are staring at me. I love this. I give them a show when I can, pushing back my hair to show off my arms. When I get there, it's getting late, and most people have started to leave the beach, but there's a guy still doing curls by himself in the pen. He's not the most handsome guy. Not bad looking or anything, just kind of average, kind of Clark Kentish. But he is huge. He is working out in the tiniest posing brief, and he obviously hasn't shaved his crotch, because he is showing some pubic hair, too, which excites the shit out of me. I go in, do some heavy flyes, and when I'm lying back on the bench, I can feel how my cock and balls are making this huge bulge. I know he is watching me.
When I sit up, he says, "Hi, how you doin'?"
"Fine. Just great."
"Haven't seen you here before."
"Nope. Never worked out here before. Not sure I'm really in the mood to work out now, either . . . although watching you could inspire me. You're a really big guy. How'd you do it? You do 'roids?"
He says, "Yeah, I've done some. Trying to get some real mass goin'."
"Well, I'd say it looks like it's working real well."
"Thanks," he says.
"In fact," I tell him, "you've got what I want."
"Yeah?" he laughs, then he pauses for a minute, like he's not sure if he should say what's on his mind.
"What?" I say.
"Nah," he says.
"Come on, what were you going to say?"
"Well," he says, "muscle isn't everything. It looks like you've got something I'd like to have, too." And he makes an obvious glance and nod at my basket.
"Oh, yeah? You like that? Well, I gotta confess, I like it, too. It's kind of a heavy load to carry around, and it sure doesn't allow me to be subtle. But who cares? I just have to accept people staring at me. To be honest, it turns me on."
"Well, I sure wouldn't mind people staring at me for that reason," he says. "Wonder if all that would fit into a pair of these?" He pulls at his briefs right in the front so that they fall a little lower, show a little more of his pubic hair. That sure would feel hot.
"Don't know," I say. "Never tried any on."
"You're kidding. You would look so hot. You want to try?"
"Here?" I say.
Shit, there's hardly anyone around. We could go over there to the john. I'd just love to see that package of yours . . . I mean how it would look in trunks like these.
My hunger is building to a lustful frenzy. Sure. Why the fuck not?
So we go into the john. No one is in there, and no one was looking when we went in. He strips off his briefs, and says, Come on, get out of those. Let's see. I pull off my shorts, or rather I peel them off. His eyes bulge. Christ, man. That is fucking amazing.
So are these, I say, and I reach over and put both my hands on his pecs. I am almost rocked back by the power of the surge I feel. So does he, and he reacts like the others, like he is drawn to my power, my force, the moth to the flame. And these, and I put my hands on his arms. I can feel the surge so strong that I instantly feel my arms and my own pecs begin to tremble and pulsate deep inside. And this back, so thick and wide, and I reach around him under his arms from the front and pull him against me. The surge of power becomes so strong, I almost need to push him away, but I feel it feeding my strength. I remember that I want him to fuck me before he's too weak to do it. Already he's dazed to the point that he doesn't realize he's losing some of his muscle. I direct him, and he complies, and he's hot, but growing weak. When he is inside me, I feel like I've got the direct link up going now. He's lying against me as he fills me, and I'm absorbing his essence like a car filling with gasoline, and I feel it filling my muscles with his mass, erotic, so intense. He finally comes, and he's so depleted that he nearly falls off me.
I catch him, turn him around, and tell him now I'm going to give him the thing he wanted. I lift him and set him down on my cock. As I put its head against his hole, I see how much bigger my cock has grown. I'm sure it will rip him open, but I push him down on it, and, maybe because he has no resistance, he slides down its whole length. He moans weakly and grimaces, but his little cock is hard and what's left of his energy is still turned on. He's no longer big. His muscles are like a teenage swimmer. And as I fuck him, pulling what is left of his maleness out, and finally explode in a nuclear orgasm in him, he grows thinner and more boyish. He is completely dazed. When I'm finished with him, I lean him against the wall so I can pull my shorts onto him. I have put on so much bulk that it feels strange, a little difficult to move. When I get him dressed in my shorts, I set him on a toilet, leaning against the back wall.
Then I pick up his posing brief. I stand in front of the mirror so I can look at my body, to watch myself as I put them on. But before I can do it, I have to deal with my hard on again. Because when I see myself, when I see and feel how unbelievably massive I have become, I have to jack off, I have to cum again. My arms must be 26 inches. My chest must be 60 inches, maybe bigger! My back is so thick and wide that my arms are propped way out, resting on the mass of my lats. My pecs are so huge they overlap my ribs like a shelf of hairy muscle, unbelievably thick. My legs are so massive that I can't get my knees close to each other. My thighs must be at least 36 inches. When I walk, which I do in front of the mirror just to see how it looks and feels, they roll around each other like tree trunks attached to my hips. Finally, I pull on the briefs. I try to stuff myself into them. My balls stretch the fabric nearly to splitting. I shove my cock in the best I can, letting it lie horizontally along my groin, where it reaches all the way to my hipbone. Where the suit gets skinny near the side, it can barely cover its big, thick head. The material is strained to its limit. I fill the crotch so completely that all the rest of my groin is exposed, all that delicious hair, and now I'm even hairier that I was before. I look like a fucking animal, a freaky monster of muscle and impossibly intense male sexuality. And still my muscles are getting thicker, denser, bigger. Still my cock is getting thicker, longer, my balls bigger, stretching the crotch of the trunks more, exposing more. It feels unbelievable.
I look at myself for a minute. What would happen if I do this again? With this huge guy, I grew so much more than before. I'm bigger that he was, bigger than any bodybuilder I have ever seen. And still I have that hunger, that need for more. What would I become if I found another guy like him? Could I even appear in public? But I realized I didn't care. It felt so amazing. All I could think of or feel was a deep, profound drive to grow more, absorb more, get bigger and bigger until the need was satisfied, and if it was never satisfied until I got so huge that I couldn't move or exploded with the size of my muscles, well, I didn't care about that either.
I walked out of the john onto the beach. I started to head back to my car, and the beach was almost deserted. And then this guy appeared, walking along down by the water. This beach was definitely the right place to come. This guy is gorgeous, with long, dark hair, stunning looks, like a Chippendales guy or daytime soap star, and he's an amazingly built bodybuilder. As big as the guy I just left. Maybe bigger. He's got some real sexy hair on his chest and his abs, and he's also wearing a very brief, very revealing bikini and strutting to show himself off. I know he's seen me looking at him, and as he walks, he flexes for me, like he's just finished pumping and he's checking himself out. So I break into a run toward the water. God, does it feel incredible to run with all this muscle on me and my gigantic basket bouncing back and forth at my crotch. I run past him into the water, dive under a wave, and then I come up facing him, letting the water pull the suit down. The head of my cock pops out, and he's watching, and I kind of shrug and laugh as I make a show of trying to stuff it back into the suit. He wades toward me a couple of steps.
"How's the water?" he asks . . . . .
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