Growing for the Team


By musclpkg

Coach Dan spun around, wild-eyed, at the sound of Hal's voice. He had been alone in the gym, he thought, but now he found Hal and JD standing almost directly behind him – or rather, Hal standing and JD kneeling on the floor with a worshipful look in his eyes. Jesus, why hadn't he seen them behind him in the mirror? He was suddenly extremely self-conscious, with his shirt hanging in tatters from his now-massive arms and torso, and his unnaturally huge dick tenting his maroon nylon shorts. Fuck, they'd seen him, he realized all at once – they'd watched him split out of his own shirt, watched him flex for himself in the mirror, watched him grope his own exquisitely sensitive dick. There was nothing he could do now to hide, or undo what had happened. He felt completely exposed. He tried to stammer an excuse: "I… I…"

But Hal stepped closer and shut Dan up. He reached out, took what was left of Dan's shirt in his fist, and twisted it off, the remaining tatters giving easily under the force of his pull. Dan was silenced. There was no need to explain anything.

Hal dropped the shreds of shirt on the floor and then reached out with his right hand and put it on Dan's chest. "Fuck. Nice pecs, Coach," he said. It was then that Dan realized that Hal was completely nude, his tight-muscled 18-year-old wrestler's body sheened with sweat from his recent workout, his thick 9-inch boner pulsing at the horizontal. How had he gotten his workout clothes off so fast? But then that thought was gone in an instant as Dan took Hal in with his eyes and felt his hot hand against the hard muscle of his chest. He looked – damn, he looked hot. Golden-blond, tight- bodied, with a strange, deep, knowing look in his eye. But since when was he attracted to – again, the thought left him almost before it was finished.

And at the boy's compliment, Dan felt an inexplicable surge in his cock. Yeah. He did have nice pecs, he thought, looking down. Fucking awesome, shirt-splitting pecmeat. He twitched the thick slabs of muscle, first one, then the other, and felt the whole huge weight of each pec heave as it first contracted, mounding up high, and then relaxed, falling back under its own weight to drape in thick luxury above his ripped-brick eightpack. Must be a good four-inch overhang, he marveled. The thought made his dick even harder. But how the fuck had he gotten so huge without even realizing it? Again though, the thought was gone in an instant. Dan saw Hal's sexy- looking cock twitch up another notch in hardness at his pec display, arching above the horizontal now, and starting to leak a long thread of pre-cum toward the floor.

"Fuck yeah. Do that again, Coach," said Hal. He placed his left hand on the other pec. Dan did as he was told, dancing his huge slabs of chest beef under Hal's squeezing, probing hands. This kid has experience, Dan thought to himself. He's felt up muscle before. His hands felt so fucking good against his hard flesh, his fingers playing over the sensitive surface. He seemed to know just how to touch the muscles to elicit the next flex, where to get the maximum results out of Dan's newly discovered musculature. He pumped the halves of his chest alternately over and over, first looking down at them, watching their huge mass undulate under Hal's hands, and then looking up at Hal's face, watching his worshipful reaction. Dan didn't know which he liked more.

Now Hal stepped back a bit, taking all of Dan in. Dan's nude, sweat- gleaming torso, glowing with a golden tan, the inhuman width of his chest and lats veeing down to the almost impossibly narrow, ripped waist, his shorts far too small now, overflowing with his bowling- ball glutes and obscenely tented with the straining column of his dick.

"God damn it, you are so fucking hot," said Hal. "One awesome fucking muscle machine." Dan only stared at him. The smirk on Hal's face and the sparkle in his eye spoke of endless hours of intensely hot, nasty musclesex. Dan's rational mind was gone now; he wasn't even thinking anymore about how fucking weird this was, how he was suddenly huge and how the co-captain of his team was now seducing him with his own muscles. He only stared at Hal, waiting for the next compliment, or the next command.

He looked down at himself, and back up at Hal. Now he had the same sparkle in his eye. "I am so fucking hot," he echoed. "I am one awesome fucking muscle machine." He felt his cock pulsing in his shorts, trapped, oozing, and wished that Hal would suck it. He needed to cum.

Almost no sooner had he had the thought, than Hal sank to his knees in front of him. He yanked the too-tight leg of the nylon shorts upward, ripping the inseam against the unbelievable circumference of Dan's upper quad, and freed the dripping, straining meat from its confines. Dan thought he had been wearing his jock, but now he felt his egg-sized balls drop freely into Hal's palm and his wrist-thick shaft spring to its full, upward-curved hardness in the gym's humid air. His fist-sized cockhead was a shade of red that screamed of sexual need and frustration. No sooner was it free, though, than Hal forced his mouth down over it, onto the footlong shaft, mercilessly, choking himself, jamming it into his throat, opening, deepening, until in one long thrust Hal was throat-milking Dan's newly massive, ultra-sensitive meat.

Dan had forgotten about JD, who had knelt quietly to one side during the whole scene, but now, as the cum began to churn up and out of his balls, Dan noticed him again. The short, muscular stud with straight black hair was kneeling with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing only Dan's jockstrap, his sturdy hard dick straining untouched inside the pouch. How did he get my… Dan began to think, but then the thought was gone. JD was watching the action orchestrated by Hal with an expression that told of unimagined pleasure. As Hal's tight, massaging throat worked its magic on Dan's newly-grown bulldick, as the orgasm he needed so badly built to an unavoidable explosion, Dan locked eyes with JD and saw that he was about to cum as well, kneeling there, without even touching himself. He saw the look in JD's eyes of deep worshipful lust and need… a need that he suddenly understood. On an impulse that now seemed completely natural, he raised his arms for JD into a huge, lat- spreading double-bicep pose.

As he hit the pose and then hardened it, as he felt the peaks of his biceps mound up to touch the insides of his wrists, as he felt his cobra-hood lats spread and harden into a massive wall, a deep surge of power and realization went through Dan's body. He knew suddenly that his biceps were even huger than they had been when he had split the shirt open, insane double-peaked boulders ridged with countless veins and striations, balanced by thick, ham-like tris and spreading, batwing lats. And this was not by accident. It was the boy fastened onto his cock. It was Hal. Hal was making him grow. Hal was making him grow for JD's pleasure.

At this realization the cum rocketed up and out the tip of Dan's dick, to spurt forcefully into the hot confines of Hal's throat with long, deep-pumping strokes of male ecstasy. Each single jet of hot juice felt like ten regular orgasms in length and intensity, and they just kept coming, kept coming, mindblowingly, unrelentingly. He could only try to hold on, widening the stance of his huge spread quads, straining his double-bi even bigger, harder, thicker for JD, as he experienced deep jolts of pleasure he had never even dreamed of imagining. Hal grunted out his satisfaction at being the vessel for Dan's seed, swallowing greedily, as though it was his last meal. His fingers dug into Dan's hard unyielding glutes and he jammed his nose into Dan's dark pubes, clamping down with his throat, forcing Dan's thick meat deeper into the tight massaging tunnel. And at the same instant, JD let out a deeply sexual groan that made Dan cum even harder, as he realized that his pleasure was also JD's… that JD was filling his jock with cum spurt-for-spurt, just from watching, his hands still desperately clasped behind his back, tears streaming down his young goodlooking face. He bucked his hips, jock pouch dripping with the overflow, cum pooling between his spread knees, wailing out his pleasure into the echoing gym as though it were the only thing he had ever lived for.

Finally, Hal pulled off of Dan's cock as it twitched out the last drooling spurts of cum. Dan relaxed his upraised arms, their huge loads of muscle slumping to relaxation. The orgasm had lasted – minutes? Hours? He looked down at Hal. "You did this to me," Dan said. It was all he could think of. "You."

Hal licked the last drip of cum from Dan's softening dicktip. He did not answer Dan's observation. What Dan couldn't see was that Hal had cum as well, in long, spurting jets onto the gym floor behind him. And what he also couldn't see, and would not see, was that the color of Hal's cum was a glistening, jet black. •

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