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|They were, without a doubt, the two most beautiful men Bobby had ever seen. He couldn't believe his luck, although he was wondering what sort of luck he had. Bobby started working out only two weeks before, signing up at the 24-hour gym and coming in after his nightshift. He'd just moved to this town, having been kicked out of his house by his Dad after coming out to the family. Not the most auspicious beginning of his post-high school life.
The only work he could find was at the gas station out past the edge of town. The money he made there managed to pay for the room he had downtown, and even if everything else seemed to be going from bad to worse (and he thought coming out was supposed to be so liberating!) he'd decided that if this was now his life, he was going to live it the way he wanted to.
And that included improving his body. He'd been embarrassed that someone would notice his attentions at the school workout room and had avoided working out with weights even though he really wanted to look like those guys he worshiped and dreamed about. And even though this place was far from the shiny, clean gyms he expected, there was plenty of weights, it was cheap, and he could drop in any time without worrying that he couldn't measure up to the hardcore guys who were here at almost every other hour.
But he'd get there. He was determined.
Then, tonight, these two walk in. And all his self-doubts came screaming back. And even though he did realize that coming to grips with his feelings about guys - and in particular guys like these - made him a lot less ashamed of watching them so intently, he couldn't help but feel he was still the target of their derision, or else why would they keep looking at him like that?
"You're not straining enough, Blake."
David was smiling one of his patented smiles, filling his features with open joy and amusement. He nodded toward the little guy at the far bench. "He's going to know something's up if you don't grunt or sweat or something." His brow wrinkled. "It's not, y'know, natural."
Blake returned the groaning bar to the bench, sitting up and rubbing his thickly muscled arms. "And what gives you the impression he thinks something's up?" He raised his hand and brushed his hair from his face. He was wearing it jet black, and his eyes were ice blue. He'd stripped the hair from his huge and bulging frame, allowing his skin to darken to an olive Mediterranean hue. His lips were full, his nose slightly wide, and his lashes were long and thick. He'd shrunk down to a 'normal' 6-foot, 6-inch height that was sleek and hard and fat with brawn.
"He keeps looking at us. Like, weird." David had apparently found a look he liked and was sticking to it. His white-blonde hair was close-cropped to his head, and his eyes were sea green. His face was a sculpted collection of male beauty, with high cheek bones and a prominent chin with a deep cleft. A fuzz of blonde fur lightly shadowed his cheeks and chin, and he'd decided that the swarthy look was in, because a similar furry forest spread itself across his mammoth chest and down his rippled belly. But even though he and Blake agreed before they even left IGE that "smaller is better," he loved his size too much to let it all go. The guy defined huge, right down to the thick tube of man flesh curled inside his shorts.
It was Blake's turn to smile. "You weren't gay before the transformation, were you bud?"
David shook his head. "Straight as the day is... er, was long." He looked at the little guy again, and a light dawned in his eyes. "Oooooooh! I get it. He's looking because... Ooooooh!"
Blake laughed lightly. "That's eye contact, my friend." But as he looked over and allowed his gaze to linger on the only other young man in the room, he said, "he just isn't all that experienced, is all."
Bobby could feel the guy's stare. He wanted to look back, oh yes he did. But he wasn't sure if the guy was staring because he was interested (like that was going to happen, with that other god standing there with his incredible body and that overflowing basket down below) or angry. And he didn't feel like getting his ass kicked again, especially by a guy who looked like he could kick Bobby's ass all the way through the roof of his head.
But he couldn't help himself. Even out of the corner of his eye, the beauty was undeniable. "My God," he thought, "I didn't think guys like that really existed. And it'd be worth an ass kicking just to look, wouldn't it?"
So he did.
And the guy, that beautiful, unearthly man, smiled at him.
He felt like he was melting.
David and Blake traded off and Blake pretended to spot David. "Okay, remember, normal guys don't swell by the inch as they pump, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on - better yet, take your shirt off! Bet that'd get his attention."
"Later, later. We have his attention, but only because we're the only other guys in here."
"Oh sure," nodded David, ducking his head under the bar. "The fact that you look like an underwear model and I look like... what's his name?"
"Brad Pitt with a glandular condition probably has nothing to do with it."
"I said you could look like Brad Pitt, I didn't say you did." David frowned. "You look better." David grinned and hefted the barbell. "Okay, so, do a few pumps, and get yourself primed. I know this doesn't challenge you, it's only about 450 pounds, but make it look good."
"450? Shit, my dick weighs that." He started pressing the weight up and down.
Bobby watched the action out of the corner of his eye. The barbell was actually bending under the weight of the plates loaded on it. He'd never seen anything like it before. And the blonde guy was pressing it so easily and so fast you'd think it was a trick. He shook his head and turned his attention back to his bicep curls.
"Is he watching?"
"He's watching his arm. He's not watching you."
"Are you sure he's gay? Maybe I shoulda made my cock a little bigger."
"Your cock is plenty big, David. A horse in heat doesn't have what you're packing." Blake looked down at his friend, watching the guy's chest swell. David was allowing himself to grow in his shoulders, arms and chest as he pumped. His biceps looked like long, hard melons. His chest was two thick slabs. "Okay, that's good. Any bigger than that and he'll think something's up."
David rested the barbell back in on the bench. It clanged loudly. "I thought that was the point." David was wearing a ribbed tank, one of the pieces of clothing they 'borrowed' from a locker at the gym. It clung to him like a second skin, the wide armholes almost too small to contain his widening upper body. He was wearing a pair of loose shorts and his cock head was peaking out the leg hole.
"Tuck that in," instructed Blake, "and, yes, that's the point. But we don't want himn freaking out on us, right?" David shrugged and pushed the leg of his shorts down. He got up and they switched off again, Blake laying down on the bench and grasping the bar.
Bobby could see the blonde guy's prick peeking from his shorts. It looked like his prick, anyway. Something pink and huge lying next to his bulging thigh muscles. Fucking shit, that guy was big everywhere!
"Should I go over there and invite him over?"
Blake looked up at David, his face amused. "Like we're having a party?" He shook his head. "No, in this case it wouldn't be very smart to come on too strong. And looking the way you look? You're coming on strong just standing there."
"So, um, I mean, aren't we here to, you know... have some fun?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
Blake wiggled his back. "Mm hmm." He beckoned David to bend down toward him, wiggling his finger. "Let's give him an opening, shall we?" David looked bewildered until Blake reached his hand up, gently cupped his chin and leaned forward to kiss his lips.
"Whoa." Bobby said what he was thinking, although he didn't mean to. The kiss surprised him, but he could feel himself definitely getting warmer. And harder. So, fine, they were into each other. But where did that leave him? Were they just here for the attention? Some of that muscle worship junk - not that he was above that sort of thing at all, but if that's what they wanted, wouldn't it make more sense to come here when there was a bigger audience? And... whoa, that guy's dick can't really be that fucking big! Could it? From where Bobby was working out, it looked exactly like the guy's cock was literally crawling down his leg. Extending like a telescope, inch by inch, but it had to be a trick of the light, the way the guy's ample muscles lay against his thigh, no cock could extend that far, that quickly, down a guy's leg.
The head looked like it was glistening. Bobby swallowed thickly.
David was letting himself show how much he was enjoying Blake's sudden attention. His prick was filling up, getting firm, growing thicker and longer. He was more than happy to get things going and put the pedal to the metal, and Blake's hand on his crotch seemed to signal that Blake was ready too.
Until he squeezed a little too hard and whispered, "not yet."
Blake couldn't help but smile. Damn, but he liked this guy. David was always so cute and puppy-like, even when he was standing at his full 12-foot high, 6-foot wide frame. "You want to freak the poor guy out before we even get started?"
"I still don't get why we can't just unleash the beast. Let a little man stink loose on him and watch him grow. It's what he wants or he wouldn't be here."
"Patience is a virtue, David. And I assure you the rewards will be much greater if we do this my way."
"Prick teaser." But he was smiling as he said it. His voice was a deep, dark growl of suppressed sexual energy.
"Look at it this way, David; I have a bit more experience in these matters than you do. At IGE, of course every guy you meet wants to do you. But out here in the real world, and especially in these Podunk towns, you can still get strung up for even looking at another guy in a way they take as a little too attentive."
David looked over at the young guy. He had dirty blonde hair that hung to his shoulders. His frame was slight, but he was beautiful. He wore a T-shirt that was too large for him, and his sweatpants looked like they hadn't been washed in a month. But his face was angelic, and David wanted to kiss him badly, put his large hands all over the guy's body, pull out his dick and jerk him off, lick and suck on him. Man, he loved feeling like this. He had to admit that maybe Blake was right. Not having everything be automatically a given was a rush. The tease and play of attracting the guy, reeling him in, feeling those glances in his direction. It was a real turn-on. "What's next?"
"Well, turn off the tiger, buddy. Nobody's prick extends inch by inch like that. Hell, nobody's prick is that long to begin with. And if my guess is right, what we have over there is a cherry for the picking. I'd bet that boy's been jacking off to bodybuilders on ESPN and sneaking peeks at Muscle and Fitness when no one was looking. We're going to teach him that there's nothing wrong with his feelings, and give him everything he ever dreamed of." He started to stand up, and pulled his shirt off over his head slowly. A cascade of midnight fell across his shoulders and he tossed the shirt aside.
Bobby nearly dropped the dumbbell he was using. He found himself now openly staring at the guys across the room. One of them, the dark one who looked like a blue-eyed Banderas on a serious 'roid bender, was taking off his shirt. His torso was deeply etched with power. Thick slabs of muscle were mounted on his chest, and a dark furry forest dipped into the deep crevasses and valleys of his powerful body. As his arms lowered, the incredible definition of his abdominals bloomed into a cobblestone street. And the whole time, the guy's eyes were locked on Bobby, and the killer smile - not one of teasing but one that seemed to invite his attention, to invite him to the guy - stayed on his full lips. Then the other guy, the blonde monster with the incredible face, was looking over, too.
Bobby smiled back. He nodded slightly, very slightly, trying not to be misinterpreted.
Blake thought, "Bingo," and he stepped around the weight bench and started walking toward where the young man was now frozen. He turned slightly, eyeing David to let him know he should follow. David's great smile grew wider, and he actually seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet.
"Shit," Bobby said silently. "Shit, shit, shit." He wasn't sure what to do. He suddenly realized he'd grown stiff in his sweats, could feel a cold spot on his crotch that he hoped wasn't visible. The blonde guy was so thickly hung that it looked like he had a foot-long pendulum in his shorts that swung as he walked. His shorts went to mid-thigh, and so did his package apparently. Maybe he was seeing things before, it was obvious no guy's dick could reach that far. Still, the whole package when put together was an awesome site. He was slightly taller than his "friend," or whatever they were, with a flattop of pale blonde hair, as thick as a brush. The sides of his head were almost shaven clean away, so that if you weren't looking closely you'd think he was in the military, especially given what could only be called an impossibly muscular build. His skin was pale, made the more so when he was next to the other guy's dark tan. Somebody would think the guy worked years on that body to get it that huge and that defined, but his face made him look no older than Bobby. And he probably wasn't in the military since the fuzz on the sides of his head continued onto his face, where his chiseled chin and cheeks were also fuzzy with more of that almost silver blonde hair. His eyes, even from here, were clearly deep green. And, good god what a smile he wore. Bobby should have been awestruck at the man's beauty.
But then all he had to do was look at the other guy, and his breath did leave his body. Since taking off his shirt, it was evident that the guy might not be quite as bulky as his partner, but what there was of him was perfection. His sun-kissed skin shone like silk as he walked. He had a taper to his torso that was so pronounced, Bobby wondered that he could keep upright. Probably that rippling stomach helped. He had a trail of darkness coming out of his navel leading down and down into the hidden treasures of his sweat pants. And those, this guy wore so far down his body that it was obvious that he had no tan line. His hips swayed with sensual promise as he walked over, and the wealth of his pubes curled over the waistband like the entrance to a glistening forest. And if the other guy was hung, this guy was super hung. Either that or he was packing a salami down there just to compete with his friend. Whatever it was he had in his pants, it was thick and long and ample.
His eyes were mesmerizing, because they had to be to vie for attention with every other feature of his face. His shoulders were a mile wide, made of thick power that flexed and bulged with thinly restrained strength. His arms and chest, pumped from his just-ended session, were fat and veined with strength.
Bobby tried to keep his own face neutral. He knew that sometimes guys like this would lead guys like him on, only to get their jollies later by taunting or embarrassing him... or worse.
But that kiss...
"Hello," said the dark one. Bobby's cock pulsed with pleasure in his sweats at the tone, the inflection, the very sound of that voice. It was deep, tender, smooth, smoky and sexy all at the same time. "My name's Blake, and this is David."
The blonde guy - David - nodded with that smile stuck on his lips. Bobby noticed David glance down toward his crotch. It had to be perfectly obvious, even if he didn't have an outward wet spot, that he was tenting the material. "Bobby," he said as he set the dumbbell down. He tried to control his Southern accent, since the guy towering over him didn't have one. He was too self-conscious sometimes about everything. Why be embarrassed about the way you talked?
"We don't mean to bother you. If you'd rather be alone to work out, we can go back over there and..."
"No, no." Bobby started thinking fast. He wanted anything else in the world but for these guys to walk away - unless that meant a look at their asses, that is. "From the looks of you two, you could give me some pointers about getting big. I'm just starting in on this weight thing and any advice or help would be appreciated."
Blake's pleasant smile grew to an honest and open one, as if he were meeting a good friend again he hadn't seen for a long time. It was warm, inviting, and extremely attractive. "I think we could probably help you out better than just about anyone, wouldn't you say so, David?"
The blonde mountain of muscle nodded. "Oh, yeah. We're perfect for that job."
Bobby licked his lips. David's voice was just as deeply masculine and affecting as Blake's. And between the two of them, they seemed to be putting out some smell that was a little like sweat, but more musky, more spicy and deeply arousing. Probably some expensive cologne. He could feel himself getting warmer just sitting there, looking up at these two relief maps of male perfection. "I'm also new in town," he ventured, "and I'm not really, um, familiar with where a guy like me, that is, I was wondering if you guys knew where, uh, where guys, um, go."
Blake's brow wrinkled, but his open smile never budged. "We're not really from around here, either. You're looking for a gay bar?"
Bobby felt a cold chill run up his spine, dousing his flame of desire with the ice of fear. But he was determined not to hide anymore, he didn't want to be uncomfortable, to be ashamed of who he was. He pursed his lips, and nodded once almost cringing as he thought, "here it comes."
Blake opened his hands and shrugged his huge shoulders. "Wish I could help you out." He hung one heavily muscled arm across David's mountainous shoulders as his other hand reached across the blonde man's body, his hand crawling under the tight white tank top, pulling it up to reveal that the shirt wasn't lying about the guy's mass of rippled power mounded on his abs, and up onto his mammoth chest. He caressed his friend's smooth, luscious flesh and grabbed his nipple, tugging it slightly and twisting the erect, obvious cap. David's ample appendage flexed in his pants, and his white teeth gritted in his smile. "David and I are always up for a little fun." Blake's hand traveled down David's rippled torso, dancing across his firm six-pack, his fingers digging under the man's shorts, pushing the waist down slightly as his nails dug through a furry forest of blonde pubes. "Aren't we, David?"
The other man rose up slightly on his toes. Bobby watched the hand under the shorts grasp something that made David suck in a breath. "Always," he agreed. He growled the word, his eyes stayed on Bobby the whole time.
Blake spoke again, drawing Bobby's eyes back to his dark features and bright blue eyes. His hand stayed down in those shorts, however. "Anyway, you were asking about some help?"
"With the weights?"
"Oh? Oh. Oh, yeah. Um, well, um, yeah."
Blake's hand was sliding up and down in David's shorts. The muscles on his arm, the engorged bicep and tricep, his thick huge forearm, it was all flexing and bulging as he stroked. "Were you going for strength or size," Blake asked calmly, "because there are different methods for each. For strength," he said, his head tilting slightly as he adjusted his grip in some fashion and slowed his strokes to take in the whole hidden tool - it made his partner close his eyes for a moment, "you do fewer reps but with more weight. For size," he paused, looking over at David as if in illustration of what 'size' really meant, his hand traveling deeper into that cotton cave of wonder, "you do lots of reps to wear down the muscle, force it to... grow." He looked back at Bobby as his other hand left David's shoulder and crept down his back, moving under the waistband and onto David's smooth, firm ass. The blonde man's shorts slipped further down his hips as he did so. The shorts material at the base of the hidden prick getting all that attention was dark and shiny with wetness. Bobby's eyes widened. It seemed to just appear all the sudden, like he was leaking a flow of what Bobby felt in his own pants - but his wasn't showing through.
"Size," he said softly, "I think." His mouth had no spit in it.
Blake nodded. "Size it is, then." He drew his hand from the front of David's shorts. Silver threads of precum snapped loose from his glistening fingertips as he drew them to his mouth, painting his lips with a glossy coat of the essence of the muscle monster he was pleasuring. His tongue slipped between his teeth and licked the shine off. He wiped his fingers across his chest, painting his skin with long glimmering trails, his ring finger lingered at one nipple which he circled softly, gleaming his quarter-sized dark brown areola until it looked like chocolate.
"Whoa." It was all Bobby could think of to say. This wasn't really happening, was it? Things like this never really happened. Even in all the porn he'd rented, nothing even close to this great ever happened. He stood up and felt smaller than ever. The two men stood a head taller than he did, but when he was sitting it wasn't as noticeable. The scent was even stronger now, and he recognized it as the smell of sex. The funky scent of men, of their sweat and cum. He recognized this like some innate knowledge, because nothing in his life ever approached the deeply satisfying sense of that smell. It entered his head and swam through his blood, calling him, pulling him, something so strong it could not be denied.
"Are you ready, Bobby?"
"Yes." His brain was spinning. His prick was hard as steel, pulsing a steady rhythm against his sweats. It felt hot. It was so hard it hurt.
"Do you want to be big?"
"I want it."
"How big?" Blake raised his arm, bent the elbow. The ball of his bicep swelled into existence. The fibers of the muscle bulged fat and strong.
Blake's bicep bulged fatter, grew in front of Bobby's widening eyes, bulging outward and upward, swelling with brawn all by itself.
The muscle grew again, as if he was commanding it. Bobby watched the man's bicep inflate. The tricep on the underside was swelling, now. Visibly growing. Thick plates of muscle expanded across Blake's chest. His shoulder muscles grew swollen and split, huge fat wedges of raw power. "Bigger. Get bigger."
Blake's lats fanned outward, thickened, widened. The bicep was still developing, swelling and expanding. The scent was like a fog, a thick mist of sensuality and sexuality and masculinity that circled Bobby and sank through his skin. He breathed it in, felt strong, vital, powerful. Something felt tight. Something on his arm, around his neck. Something across his chest. Tight and constricting.
"Bigger," he whispered.
Blake's huge hand met Bobby's neck, the fingers caressing his skin. They dug under the neck of his T-shirt and tugged. There was a ripping sound. Someone was touching his belly. Someone's hand was on his belly, the fingers moving down his body. Everywhere it touched felt alive, hard, powerful. He watched Blake's face, his smile, his eyes. Suddenly they were kissing. He felt a surging rush of heat from his lips, across his scalp, down his neck, across his shoulders. A tingling heat, a pulsing heat, a growing heat that spread down his back, across his chest, under his arms, down to his elbows, his wrists, out the tips of his fingers. Tighter and tighter, like his skin was constricting, like he was growing.
The hand was holding his cock, the fingers gripping his hardness. He felt the touch around the whole of him, and then the touch was moving down his length, but no, that wasn't it. The touch was staying on his cock, at the root, in his pubic hair, the fingers going all the way around him, then not quite around him. His sex growing from the grip, expanding, lengthening, getting bigger, fatter, even harder. He could feel every inch of himself, then more than that, then heaviness, and the heat again, stronger, down there, spreading up his length, down into his balls, his balls were on fire, his balls were like lead, then the heat was on his legs, on his thighs, moving up his belly and under and across his ass, spreading out from his asshole, the heat, growing stronger, even stronger, and inside, and building.
He was being kissed. He was kissing. It felt so good, so right, so hot. Then another mouth, on his neck. On his shoulder. More ripping, but not forced, His shirt was being ripped open. He was ripping the shirt open. His hands were at his side, but he was ripping the shirt off. He could feel the heat inside and outside. It was the heat of passion, of desire, of lust. He was growing. Getting bigger. He was getting bigger. Much bigger. He could feel it everywhere. Everything was growing.
And the power. The strength. Huge. Immense. Overwhelming. Growing, too. Bigger and bigger. Everywhere. Everything.
His hands reached up and found Blake's face. He was eye to eye with Blake. His hands, his hands looked powerful, huge. His fingers reached into Blake's mane of midnight, so soft, so cool under the heat of his touch, hot everywhere, hot and hard and strong and getting stronger. Bigger. He pulled Blake to him and kissed his mouth, opening his lips to Blake's lips and pushing his tongue inside. His tongue was another prick. He could feel it, firm and long. Fingers on his nipples. On his chest. His huge and powerful chest. Muscles growing, expanding, swelling out and across, heavy and huge and amazing.
He was naked. Everything was tingling. It seemed like hands were all over him, dozens of hands touching him, caressing him, fondling him, pleasuring him. He was swollen with pleasure, engorged with it, hard and ready to burst from it. He heard something. A sound. Some deep feral growl, like thunder from a distance, like the earth moving. It was him, his sound, he was moaning, the pleasure so intense, the growth so deep, so overwhelming, so powerful. He was growing stronger. Still stronger.
Someone said, softly, "more?"
Someone else. "All the way."
And suddenly the heat returned, hotter than ever, filling him up, deep and satisfying, He could feel it everywhere. So much power, such strength, undeniable, unbelievable. He was huge, getting even more huge. He felt skin against his skin. He was kissing and being kissed. Hand, hands, on his cock. How big was he? How big would he become? He was growing, still growing. Bigger. Still bigger. Someone was sucking his dick. He was growing inside their mouth. They were swallowing him. His balls ached. He wanted to cum, was ready to cum, but couldn't yet. Not yet.
Hands massaging his balls. Hands caressing his chest. Fingers in his ass. Pleasure everywhere. Strength and bliss and sex and beauty. He was beautiful. He felt it. He knew it. Then something else, something more. Pressure building, intense and incredible, like needing to cum, like having to cum, building pressure and then something else again. Another pleasure. Another thickness between his legs. His dick was being sucked, but his dick was being stroked. Slick, wet, hot, thick, long, ready. His dicks. He could feel them. Both of them. Two dicks down there. Oh, god, the feeling! So much! So much! Bigger! Bigger, still! Bigger!
And then he was cumming, It was blasting out of him, his pleasure intensified a hundred fold, a thousand fold. Orgasm on top of orgasm, dozens of them, hundreds, so deep and wide and thick and hot. Cumming and cumming, the pressure releasing and building and releasing and building. He couldn't stop cumming, didn't want to, couldn't stop. He was a fountain, a hydrant, two swollen cocks blasting his load, his tide of cum, hot and thick and sticky. That smell, the smell of men, of sweat and sex and men, he was coated with it, saturated, giving it off, now, filling the room with it. Someone spoke, Not him. Not his voice, he knew. A deeper voice. Resounding. Huge. Powerful. "Fuck," it said. The word filled his head. He was that word. Oh, god, he was huge and hard and cumming gallons. Filling a lake with his cum. His huge balls emptying themselves at last, shoving his load from him. He could feel it escape up his inches, his thick fat inches, the hugeness of his pricks. His hands were on them. His eyes were open. He saw Blake. Blake was there, but not Blake. A better Blake. Even better, bigger, more beautiful, impossibly beautiful. And David. Huge. Mountainous. Thick and wide, packed hard with muscle, so much muscle, bulging and flexing and huge. Both smiling, looking at him, eye to eye. Impossible. "Welcome," he heard Blake say, "to the team."
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