Which, let's face it; meant he was the ideal candidate for me to test out the bullshit William was shoveling. If there was ever a guy who'd test the boundaries of the pleasure principle, Brian was it.

I'd like to tell you that I decided to wear the exact pair of cotton shorts that William was wearing the first time I saw him because of some deep, hidden meaning. But the bare fact of it was that after a week of having my brains fucked out by William's super-powered body, none of my clothes fit very well. I pulled a T-shirt over my head and ripped the sleeves straight out when I tried to push my fat muscled arms through them. Then I thought, eh, so what, sleeveless works, too. But when I got the skin-tight shirt across my chest, I ripped the side seams out as well. I didn't realize just how much bigger I'd gotten until then. I was literally tearing through my clothes.

It was hot!

But it was also annoying. I couldn't walk around naked no matter how great I looked. You can't get picked up for indecent exposure and try to plead innocence by explaining that a disciple of the ancient Greek god of pleasure had transformed you into a muscular fuck machine so none of your clothes fit anymore. I mean, I guess you could try that argument and then demonstrate what you meant by `fuck machine' by plugging the bailiff's ass with your monster cock while simultaneously sucking the judge's dick so completely that he blows a nut on your mammoth, hairy chest, but I didn't feel like going to all that trouble.

Besides, I looked fucking great in William's shorts. They rode up my ass crack and showed off my bubblebutt, my length of sexmeat lay along a crease in the crotch that seemed built just for that purpose (which, come to think of it, maybe it was!) they rode low on my hips so that the dark trail of hair that ran along the rippled masses of my abs spread across the waistband, hinting at the forest beneath and my new muscular thighs exploded from below all fat and hard and sexy.

I asked William whether there was anything I had to do to prepare. Did he pray to Dionysus before he ventured out? Did he get pumped, like before a big game, get all psyched about making guys happy? Did he use some special cologne that gave him that great smell he always had, and where did he buy it, and could he loan some to me? He rolled his eyes and said, "No, Jackson, there's nothing you'll need to do. Believe me, it'll come naturally. The scent is something you'll develop on your own. You smell that on me because...?" His eyebrows lifted.

"It gives me pleasure?"

He smiled. He looked gorgeous and for a second I didn't want to leave. "You're learning. And the more you... well, I'll save that answer until afterwards. I think you'll discover things on your own that'll surprise you once you're out of the shell, so to speak." Then he took me by the shoulders, kissed me full on the lips, spun me around and patted me on the ass.

And then I went to school.

Understand that I'd never seen these guys before. Different crowd, you know? These were the kind of guys who paraded around with enough macho testosterone to drown a construction worker. They had swagger down to a science and if they were caught dead looking at another guy with anything close to interest it was likely they'd beat the guy up for making them feel interested.

But I was a fucking hunk of sweet muscular sex. I stunk from it. I reeked of it. It was all over me, and they could smell it. So I made eye contact with two of them, I smiled, I acted cool as shit.

I had the both of them three minutes later behind the gym. And just like William said, I knew exactly what they wanted, exactly how they wanted it, exactly when they wanted it.

One guy was tall and lean and hard. He looked like his body was made of molded plastic, with his limbs lined with long, firm power. Maybe he never worked out, he wasn't bulging, but he was tight as hell. The other guy was dark, sort of dirty looking, with hair everywhere. His face was rough, he had a beard and mustache and I was sure that whatever could grow hair on him was doing so as he stood there.

They approached me together, eyes hard as iron, like they were hungry. I smiled, because I knew they wanted to see me smile -- or was it that I wanted to smile and I wanted them to like it? Not sure, really. "Hey, guys," I purred. I exchanged looks with them. "What's up?" My hand was absently brushing my chest. My fingers were playing with my nipple. It felt huge and hard.

"Hey," said the tall one. His voice was smooth, kinda high. I bet the dude could sing like George Michael if he wanted to. He could croon in my ear and tell me he loved me and I'd fucking believe him. His eyes finally left mine and headed due south. So I moved my gaze to the other guy, and I remembered what William said and wondered if he was seeing the same guy standing in front of him as his friend, or as I saw when I looked in the mirror. I nodded to him. He nodded back, a slim grin sliding across his lips.

I realized that this wasn't about seduction. I already had them. I could do whatever I wanted to with them, and whatever I did would be what they wanted, too. The feeling of power was amazing. So I said, "Who's first?" and the tall one took a step forward.

I shoved his pants off his hips and applied my mouth to his boner. He had a long thin one, cut and lean, and his balls hung low. I breathed him in like a perfume and sucked him harder still. I pushed his shirt up his thin torso and rubbed my grip against his pale, tight skin. He had a patch of hair on his flat chest and tiny nipples I caught between my tongue and teeth as my mouth moved up his hard torso, torturing him just enough to make his eyes roll up in his head.

I kissed him hard, forcing my tongue into his mouth and he welcomed me eagerly. His hand fumbled for my monster but I held him back, allowing him only to feel my firm, fat meat through the thin cotton of those shorts. I pressed my big, muscular hulk against his frail frame and pinned him to the wall, my hands planted on either side of his head as my mouth worked on his. Then I sunk down his body and swallowed him again, licking and stroking his hot cock until he came and I swallowed every drop.

The other dude already had his dick in his hand when I turned my attentions to him. That dude had a big fucking joint, let me tell you. Big and veined and red and juicy. He was a hairy little fucker and he smelled like cigarettes and cheap beer. He wore a wife beater and his nipples poked through the ribbed cotton signaling his body's readiness. "You want this," I asked, growling the question like a tiger, my hand digging under my shorts as my thumb rubbed the helmet and gathered a slick of precum. I painted my lips with my juices then kissed his, tasting my salty essence mingling with the taste of him in my mouth.

But he didn't get to see all of me, either. I mimicked William's first manipulations of me, spitting into my palm and jerking the guy off as I continued to kiss his mouth and neck. My tongue pushed into his ear and his deeply satisfied moans told me all my instincts were honed to his needs. It was just like William said. It all came naturally. I knew what he wanted, and I gave it to him. I pressed my hardness against him so he knew what he wouldn't be getting, that I was even bigger than him, but it fed his fantasy and when he finally came I licked his seed off my hand and sucked his cock clean.

I said all the right things, pushed all the right buttons and wore them out before settling my big daddy into the crotch of my shorts and resuming my Brian hunt, walking away from them and displaying my fine, fine ass. They were so juiced up by me that I left them going at each other. I was pretty sure their moaning and groaning was going to draw somebody's attention, and if their friends weren't aware of their homo lust they were sure going to be. Them boys was hungry!

Shit, I got so much eye contact that I felt like lava was pouring over my body. I could feel who wanted me, I could tell what they wanted to do, I could practically hear them moaning because they needed to be with me so fucking bad. Curiously, I only got this from other guys. Girls were certainly paying close attention to me, but I wasn't tuned to them or something. Which was fucking fine by me.

The coolest and most surprising thing was when I felt something like a laser hit my prick, and when I looked for the source of that attention it was none other than fucking Brett Summers, our own big man on campus (which rumor had it was more than a nickname and well- earned, if you know what I mean) and football captain.

I know, can you believe that name? Brett Summers. Pure soap opera, but this guy defined beautiful. I mean, he was the whole package - tall, dark, handsome, thick as a brick and wide as the tide. And the fact that I was getting something that strong from him meant... something. What, was he "extra gay" whatever the hell that meant? I mean, if he was gay he was so far back in the closet he was the polyester shiny shirt your dad wore to the disco. I wasn't sure what it meant, but man I wanted to find out.

As I looked at him and felt his attention drift over every inch of my prime meat, I was waiting for our eyes to meet because if the heat of his attention on my bod was that intense, would our heads explode when his blue-eyed gaze met mine? Everyone else faded out in those seconds, my whole world became him. In my head, I was stripping him clean, breathing in his pit stink, running my hand over the hump of his ass, pulling his body to mine, pushing my mouth over his, sucking on his tongue. And our eyes met.

Something went off in my whole body. I felt an explosion of something, a thunder that shook me so hard and deep it was like everything went white. I saw his mouth drop open and he licked his lips, and he smiled at me, and I smiled back. I was feeling drawn to him, felt my heart speed up, felt my ass tingle, my cock swell, my balls drop. Jesus, what was this guy? Everything I was made of, everything I'd become seemed to climb a notch, to grow even more powerful, more sexual, stronger and bigger. Something was happening to me.

He looked at me like he was in shock, then he moved away. I watched him leave, and he turned to look at me again and I felt a sort of echo of that shock again. Fuck, it was great and weird and I wanted more of whatever it was. He went around a corner and I sort of came to and Brian was standing next to me. I looked over and he was staring at my crotch. Like I said, he was a physical kind of guy. But then I felt a draft and looked down to note that my prick had, at some point, grown fully erect and nine of my thick, fat inches were pulsing above my shorts. A thick trail of precum was drizzled along my shaft like a warm honey drip, making the beauty glisten. Luckily, at some point the hallway had emptied out. Still, it was annoying to find out that I wasn't as in control as I thought I was.

I sort of laughed, though, and looked back at Brian as his eyes rose and met my gaze. "What?" He looked lost for words. So I kissed him and wrapped my muscles around his and pressed my hot dick to his tight belly, leaving a slime trail on his shirt. After a second of shock, he started kissing me back, his arms wound around me tightly and he was really feeling the sex pouring through his blood. His kissing became anxious and greedy, his hand found my still-stiff dick and he stroked my hardness.

I pulled my mouth from his, and his lips practically reached out from his face to try to recapture mine. "Slow down, Brian. We've got time."

His eyes opened and then went wide. "Jackson?"

So I hadn't changed as much as William. Not yet anyway. I was bigger, definitely, but still recognizable. "In the flesh."

"Fuckin' A, you look like... you look... fuckin' a..."

Like I said, he was quite the conversationalist. "Yeah, I do." I let my hand crawl under his shirt to feel his bulging muscularity. My body was taking over and any thoughts I had about pursuing Brett disappeared almost as quickly as he had. "You're going to be late for class," I said.

"Fuck class."

"Fuck me," I said, pinching his nipple hard. He grinned a sudden hungry grin, which made his face look a lot more appealing to me, and kissed me hard again.

"Where?"

I was pulling his shirt off his amazing body. He was built like a motherfucking shithouse. Muscle everywhere on his tight, young body. It was all primed and pumped and hard as a rock. His skin was buffed and bronzed and smooth and silky. He shaved his chest, pretending to be a bodybuilder but lacking the definition and paper-thin skin for competition. No, he was built for pleasure, a faggot onto worship who was going to learn what worship was all about. I sucked his tit into my mouth, he sucked back a breath. "Teacher's lounge," I said, wagging my eyebrows.

"Fuck, Jackson, what if someone...?" He seemed to have already forgotten that I was about 30 pounds heavier, three inches taller and three inches longer than a week ago. He wasn't dazzled by my beauty and size, he was simply dazzled that this was happening at all.

I kissed the words from his lips. "What if they do?" He started to think about it. I knew it would excite him. The danger, the possibility of exposure, the thought that the hunky new gym teacher might open the door and find my huge cock fucking his muscular ass. It was all coming to him slowly but surely, just like I knew it would, and he was getting hotter by the second. •